Saved || A Jungkook fanfic

10.

That was hard, but I felt lighter.

I hadn't realized just how much I needed to talk to someone, how desperately I had been holding everything in, suffocating under the weight of it all. That night changed everything—the way I saw Taehyung, the way I saw his pain, and the way I saw our relationship crumbling beneath the pressure of things neither of us could fix.

Since his parents' deaths, it was like he had shut down completely. Alcohol became his solace, replacing everything he once loved, including me.

Jungkook helped me to my feet, and I wiped the remaining tears from my cheeks, grateful that he hadn't interrupted. Not that he could have if he tried—once I started talking, the words had poured out like a dam breaking. He simply listened.

He took my wrist gently, guiding me further down the hall until we stepped into a part of his enormous house I hadn't seen before. The room was an extravagant entertainment space, designed with indulgence in mind. The sleek, modern bar lined one wall, its glass shelves stocked with top-shelf liquors that glowed under ambient blue lighting. Plush leather seating surrounded a low, marble coffee table, and the far wall hosted a massive flat-screen television, flanked by state-of-the-art speakers. A pool table sat off to the side, its felt surface a deep shade of emerald, and beyond that, a grand piano gleamed under the dimmed lights, untouched but waiting. The air smelled of faint cologne, expensive leather, and the remnants of liquor. This part of his house was clearly off limits to party goers down stairs. It was an intimate space for fun, a stark contrast to the suffocating sorrow I carried within me.

"He doesn't have any remaining family?" Jungkook asked quietly, stepping into the small kitchenette attached to the room. He opened the fridge, retrieved a bottle of water, and offered it to me with an unreadable expression.

I accepted it, my movements sluggish, exhaustion seeping into my bones. I bent over the island, twisting off the cap. "Only Joon, but he was never really around. I mean, he left as soon as he turned eighteen. After... everything... he quit his job to move back with Tae."

I took a long sip, gulping down half the bottle before glancing up. Jungkook mirrored my stance, leaning back on his elbows, his dark eyes scanning my face as though searching for something he couldn't quite name.

"Has he refused therapy?"

I nodded. "Jimin and I have tried to convince him so many times. He won't go."

Jungkook exhaled sharply, looking away. A muscle in his jaw tensed, and for a brief moment, I saw something flicker in his eyes—real, genuine concern. It caught me off guard.

I reached out, brushing my fingers against his arm, pulling his attention back to me. "Thanks for listening. I really needed that."

His gaze softened as he looked down at my hand on his bicep. Slowly, he smiled, revealing his signature bunny-like grin. "I'll always be here to listen to you from now on, okay?"

Relief washed over me, warm and comforting.

I inhaled deeply, steadying myself. "Let's head back. I think I'm actually in the mood to dance for once."

With a comforting hand on my back, Jungkook led me out of the room. The party was still in full swing, the music pulsing through the air. He cracked a joke about the time a guy tried to surf down the staircase, and I almost laughed.

Almost.

Until I saw him.

The world blurred. The sounds dulled. My body went numb as my pulse thundered in my ears.

Taehyung.

And he wasn't alone.

She was pressed against him, her body molding to his like they had done this a thousand times before. And they had. I could still hear her moans from the night I caught them together. Her blonde hair cascaded down her back as she ground against him, her movements in perfect rhythm with the beat of the music.