Can't Escape 3

Fifteen

Long chapter ahead so don't forget to comment and vote:

Days passed slowly, each one blurring into the next. The once unrelenting ache in Y/n's body had dulled, her bruises fading into pale yellow marks before disappearing entirely. Her wounds were healing, at least on the surface. Taehyung had been... softer during this time, his touch gentler, his voice quieter, as though he were trying to sew her back together after ripping her apart.

And in moments like these, when he leaned over to adjust her blanket or whispered a tender, "Are you okay?" before leaving for the day, Y/n felt a flicker of hope. Maybe he was changing. Maybe she had been right all along, her love could heal him.

But beneath the surface, the unease lingered. The weight of his presence, the way his eyes followed her every move, the way he seemed to know her thoughts before she even voiced them.

That night, the house was quiet. Y/n sat on the sofa, legs curled beneath her as she hugged a cushion to her chest. Taehyung was beside her, his laptop perched on his thighs as his fingers glided across the keyboard. The soft glow of the screen illuminated his face, his features calm and focused.

Y/n's eyes lingered on him, studying the slight furrow of his brows, the way his lips pressed into a thin line when he concentrated. There were moments like this when he looked... normal. As though the darkness she'd seen in him was just a figment of her imagination.

"Taehyung," she said softly, breaking the silence.

His fingers stilled for a moment before resuming their rhythm. "Hmm?"

She hesitated, her fingers tightening around the cushion. "Can I ask you something?"

He glanced at her briefly, his expression unreadable. "What is it?"

Y/n shifted slightly, her voice tentative. "When... When you get angry, it's like you're someone else. I just... I was wondering if it's because of... your father?"

The words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. For a moment, Taehyung didn't move, his fingers frozen over the keyboard. Then, slowly, he closed the laptop with a deliberate, almost menacing calm.

The soft click of the laptop shutting sounded louder than it should have, echoing in Y/n's ears. Her heart began to race as she watched him place the laptop on the coffee table, his movements controlled but brimming with a tension that made her stomach twist.

When he turned to her, his eyes were dark, his jaw clenched. The warmth she had seen in his expression earlier was gone, replaced by something colder, something dangerous.

"What did you just say?" he asked, his voice low and steady, but laced with an edge that sent a shiver down her spine.

Y/n's grip on the cushion tightened, her pulse quickening. "I-I didn't mean to upset you. I was just—"

"You were just what?" he interrupted, his tone sharp as a blade. "Trying to psychoanalyze me? Trying to fix me like some kind of project?"

Her mouth opened, but no words came out.

Taehyung leaned closer, his eyes narrowing as he stared her down. "You think you understand me?" he hissed. "You think you have the right to bring up my past like it's some kind of excuse for your nosy little questions?"

"I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

His lips curled into a bitter smile, but there was no humor in it. "Sorry," he repeated mockingly, his hand gripping the edge of the coffee table so tightly his knuckles turned white. "Do you think 'sorry' will fix everything? Huh?"