Forbidden Threads Of Fate | TaeKook

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Jungkook didn’t know when he fell asleep.

But what he saw in his dream—no, nightmare—was anything but restful.

It was the same dream again.
Taehyung, covered in blood.
Lying limp in his arms.
Lifeless.
As Jungkook screamed, cried, begged the heavens not to take him away.

But this time…
This time, it was different.
Taehyung was smiling.

Smiling, even as death claimed him.
He gently cupped Jungkook’s face with trembling, bloodstained fingers, and whispered,
“I never regretted loving you.”

---

Jungkook gasped for breath as he jolted awake.
His chest heaved, eyes glassy, skin clammy.
It took a few moments to realize it wasn’t real. Just a dream.
Just the same tormenting nightmare—only crueler this time.

He ran a hand through his damp hair, over his face.
It hurt. God, it hurt.
And yet… it felt a little less painful too. Why?

Because for the first time, Taehyung smiled in the dream.
Because even in death, Taehyung said he didn’t regret loving him.

---

Jungkook hadn't recovered from his fight with Yoongi. His words still rang in his ears like an unwelcome prophecy.
He had been selfish—he knew it.
But he was selfish for a reason.

Because he couldn't bear to watch Taehyung die.
Because the thought of living in a world where Taehyung didn’t exist tore him apart.

And while those thoughts ravaged his mind, he suddenly smelled it—
A scent that twisted in his chest and knotted his throat:

Hyacinth.

Sweet. Addicting. Undeniably familiar.
Taehyung.

He was here.
Right outside his room.
Jungkook froze.
He wanted to disappear. He couldn’t face him.
Not right now.

But before he could vanish, the door creaked open.
And there he stood.

Taehyung.

"Were you trying to run away?"
His voice was laced with a scoff, but underneath was something fragile.

Jungkook didn’t respond.

“Whenever something’s wrong, why is it always me who comes to you?”
Taehyung asked, stepping inside.
“Why don’t you ever come to me? It’s boring… you know.”

He was trying—desperately—to hold the conversation together, to stop Jungkook from slipping away.
But he was failing.

Jungkook opened his mouth, trying to say something—anything.

But Taehyung didn’t let him.

“Don’t.”
His voice cracked.
“Don’t you dare tell me to leave.”

Jungkook’s throat tightened. He couldn’t swallow.

“Tell me, Jungkook… are you okay with me marrying Namjoon?”

That question was a dagger to the chest.
Jungkook flinched—but tried to stay composed.

“I was the one who arranged it, so…”
He forced the words out, eyes fixed anywhere but on him.
Because he knew—he knew—that if he looked into those purple eyes, he’d crumble.