Right One

𝐒𝐢𝐱𝐭𝐲 𝐎𝐧𝐞

A/n: Bish is sick, yet she's still writing! Y'all better vote and comment or else I'm Sueing y'all.. :( I'm also having kind of a writer's block but- meh.. imma still try, cause why not? Ima fairy afterall ️🧚‍♀️
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A/n pov

There was big lump on the bed, a small figure sat there cocooned with a soft duvet wrapped around him, his small frame trembling and shaking as he rocked himself back and forth, trying to assure himself and forget about what he witnessed this morning. It was not an easy scene to absorb and get used to. It was everything that can traumatize any tough person and Jungkook was not any tough stoic persona with a ruthless demeanour.

He was soft. He is soft. He might be the most kindest person on the earth itself if you minus the innocent and harmless animals.

For someone like him—so innocent, kind, pure, caring, soft hearted and fragile—the sight of his own husband, the one who claimed to love him, to care for him, the one who vowed to cherish him for forever, kill an innocent man just because he fell in love with someone from his rival gang woke completing his mission, was not an easy pill to swallow.

Doesn't matter how many times he tried to make himself believe that whatever he saw was just an illusion, trying to eat him up alive and make him hate Taehyung, the loud screams of the tied person and emotionless face of Taehyung— which was lit after he slit the tied person's neck, making the tied man cut in half— told him otherwise. It didn't let him believe in his mind. It was a mess. A whole mess that his very own husband has created by showing him how his underground business, hidden beneath the cold and hardworking CEO of the most recognized company, works.

Remembering how Taehyung stabbed that man again and again, made cuts on his body, hit him, he felt something heavy in his chest that it physically pained him.

The image of  blood sprawled out everywhere, tainting Taehyung's face and body, his shirt getting crimson with drops of blood sprinkling on to it, churned his stomach, his chest twisting painfully. He felt a big lump in his throat, a strong urge to puke everything he ate, and he sprinted towards the bathroom, vomiting, emptying his stomach, and washed his face.

Still, he couldn't calm himself down.

He wondered, what made Taehyung act in such monstrous way? Is falling in love a sin? If so- does Taehyung thinks loving jungkook is a sin too? He asked to himself but there was no answer to his questions.

He tried to remember every moment he'd spent with Taehyung, to find any hints of hesitance, resistance— anything that sort.

But all he could remember was how loving and caring Taehyung had been throughout the months they'd been married. The countless dates, whispered words of affection, fond eyes, adoration filled gaze, and passionate touches were the only thing he could remember.

But now as he thinks about it, after the accident, his memory loss and getting memories back, Taehyung had changed.

The change was not that prominent to others but to him, it was there, subtle but there.

The way Taehyung's gaze burned his skin, always trying to seep into his mind, stripping him off his sanity, those touches seething, firm, not rough nor gentle, his presence commanding. His words twisted, puzzled, his moves, calculated, a complicated equation so hard to solve, it was all so subtle but still so obvious to him.

He wasn't sure if others noticed it- not like they had the opportunity to see it as Taehyung was barely going outside to office or anywhere else. Nowadays, he was mostly in his home study or else headquarters, or whatever they name it for their Mafia business.