Fear | K.th [Editing]

Leaving [25°]

a/n: this book is in the process of being edited. you will notice from here that the pov shifts to first person and the protagonist, evangline, is suddenly (y/n) (please disregard that and just insert evangeline's name).

also, the chapter numbers will look a little wonky as i discard chapters that don't particularly relate to the rest of the storyline—don't worry, i am making changes that will keep the storyline running smoothly, so you are not missing out on anything cannon.

i first began writing this story when i was 13, now i am 23 and pursing a masters degree in professional writing lol—so, my writing has definitely improved since. i finished this story in 2021 and haven't looked back on it until June 2026. if you decide to continue reading forward, thank you, and i apologize for any cringey writing you may come across before i do.

keeping storytelling alive,

author.

I push open the door to the dining room, scanning the room until they land on a pair of equally as dark eyes staring back at me with as much hatred. His hands were folded in front of his face, elbows placed on the table. The scene of him just sitting there with his long dark bangs hiding most of his face was almost chilling, and kind of felt exciting.

I gradually step in more, closing the door behind me and looking around. I was cautious, unsure of what he had planned. Since we had a fight, god knows what he's thinking of doing toward me despite already punishing the shit out of me.

I click my tongue and decide that I shouldn't disobey him anymore as I wait for his order. The small smirk that rises on one side of his mouth doesn't go unnoticed. He lets out a small sigh, holding one of his hands out and gesturing toward the seat in front of him.

"Take a seat." He says, keeping his fearful gaze set on me. I study his facial expression as I gingerly walk toward the seat all the way at the end of the table. He had certain things that were missing in his emotions, per usual. Its always hard to figure out what he's thinking because he hides it so well. I sit down, my back pressing against the chair as I scoot forward, crossing my leg over the other as my arms mimic the same action. I glance toward the door, not caring if Taehyung caught on to my shifty eyes.

I know what that pose means from him; he means business and I'm a bit scared to hear what he has to say as I wait for someone to walk in so he can postpone whatever is going to be discussed between us.

I advert my gaze onto him when he stirs in his movements, startling me. He notices this and chuckles at my tense body, his deep voice eradicates my nerves.

Even after his short lived amusement, he doesn't say anything, only circling his slender index finger around his wine glass filled with red wine as his other arm supports his head in the palm of his large hand. His heavy gaze having yet to leave me, anchoring me down further into my hidden worries.

I slightly jump when the double doors to the kitchen swing open, servants rushing in to feed us for the afternoon. We were eating pretty late because of what happened earlier, the events putting a setback in other activities.

I thank the maid when she places a plate filled with delicious looking food in front of me before also pouring wine into my glass, but she gets stopped by Taehyung who yells out his complaint, dismissing her immediately. I frown slightly, looking over at him. The grip on the fork in my hand tightens. Was this more punishment? Not allowing me to drink. This son of a bitch really irks me sometimes.

He effortlessly ignores my sharp glare as he fixes his napkin, blanketing the cloth onto his lap and signaling for me to do the same. I sigh and give in, not wanting to deal with an angry Taehyung.