Can't Escape 3

Thirteen

The room was dimly lit, the soft hum of the heater filling the silence. Taehyung sat on the edge of the bed, watching Y/n as she folded the laundry on the other side of the room. Her movements were quiet, careful, as though she was trying not to disturb the fragile air between them. It was exactly what he wanted.

Her silence, her submission, it was his symphony.

"Y/n," he called softly, his voice a perfect blend of tenderness and exhaustion.

She looked up immediately, her eyes wide with concern. "Yes?"

He patted the space beside him, and after a brief hesitation, she obeyed, sitting down with her hands folded neatly in her lap. Her gaze flickered to him, nervous yet willing, like a lamb waiting to be led.

He sighed deeply, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. His hands rubbed together, as though he were struggling to find the right words. It was an act he had perfected—a pause here, a slight quiver in his voice there. He had rehearsed this in his head countless times, and it always worked.

"I've been thinking," he began, his voice low and laced with vulnerability. "About what I told you last night. About my mother."

Y/n stiffened slightly beside him, her fingers curling into her palms.

"I didn't mean to burden you with that," he continued, turning his head to look at her. His expression was soft, regretful. "You've already done so much for me, more than I deserve."

Her lips parted, but before she could speak, he reached out and gently took her hand in his.

"I don't know how you put up with me, Y/n," he said, his thumb lightly brushing the back of her hand. "I'm not easy to deal with. I know that. But you... You've stayed."

She looked down at their joined hands, her throat bobbing as she swallowed. "Because I care about you, Taehyung," she whispered.

His chest swelled at her words, but not with gratitude—with triumph. It was so simple to reel her in. All he had to do was dangle a thread of vulnerability, and she latched onto it like it was her lifeline.

"I don't deserve you," he murmured, his voice cracking just enough to sound authentic.

"You do," she said quickly, her free hand lightly resting on his arm. "You've just been through so much. I understand."

There it was—the validation he craved. The reassurance that she would stay, that she would endure, no matter how much he chipped away at her spirit.

He turned his body toward her, his hand cupping her cheek. She flinched ever so slightly, but he pretended not to notice.

"You're too good for me," he said, his tone so soft it was almost a whisper. "And I'm terrified of losing you. I don't think I could survive it, Y/n. You're the only thing keeping me sane."

Her eyes welled with tears, and she shook her head. "You're not going to lose me, Taehyung. I promise."

He smiled faintly, brushing a tear from her cheek with his thumb. "You're all I have," he murmured. "I can't lose you."

The guilt in her eyes was almost too satisfying to bear. She was trapped now, tangled in the web he had spun so carefully around her. Every touch, every word, was designed to make her believe she was his savior, the only person capable of healing the broken man he pretended to be.

And when the storms came—when his temper flared and his words turned sharp—she would stay. She would rationalize it, blame the shadows of his past, and convince herself that her love could fix him.

Because that was the masterpiece of his manipulation.

He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. "I don't know what I'd do without you," he said, the words dripping with sincerity.

But deep inside, he knew exactly what he'd do. He'd keep her in his arms, keep her under his control, and ensure that the world saw only the version of him he wanted them to see.

And when she finally broke, he would make sure she believed it was her fault.

To be continued..