he was a bad guy | vkook

9jungkook

"no, no, no, i can't leave him, look what state he's in, he almost died!"

i think i repeated this for more than one hundred times, but nobody seems to listen.

"come on, kook, he won't be alone, jimin and i are coming with him!" yoongi says reassuringly, patting me on the back. i have been crying on his shoulder for ten minutes straight, and i don't care how embarrassing that might look. "and besides, you don't want the both of you to be thrown behind bars."

"fuck you, yoongi!" i spit, pushing him away and drying my eyes with my sleeve. "they don't have any goddamn right to take him in, they have no fucking right!"

jimin clears his throat and mutters slowly: "well, technically he knew about your whereabouts and didn't report it to the police, so-"

"fuck all of you!" i say, interrupting him. i turn around and storm off in the direction of my dad's office.

i just hope they take good care of tae, in spite of everything i said.

minho is patiently waiting for me at his desk. his office is tidy, unlike my room, and i notice my childhood photo on one of the shelves. i quickly put it face-down and take a seat on one of the chairs.

"what do you want to talk to me about?" i ask. my voice is cold but my eyes are still wet and red from crying.

my father looks up as if he only just noticed me. now that i'm shook, he seems to be more relaxed. he doesn't answer for some time, staring at my face instead, as if he's trying to memorise every single mole. i try to remember how long it is since we last saw each other, but my countdown fails when minho wonders: "isn't it your birthday today?"

i huff. "wow. that's a really important topic," i say, rolling my eyes, my voice full of sarcasm. "but as a matter of fact, it is."

he nods his head. "do you remember what i got you for the last birthday you spent with me?"

seriously? did i leave taehyung for this stupid conversation?

i glare at him with hostility, but decide to dig into my memories.

i chuckle as soon as i remember.

"it was a toy police car," i say, shaking my head. "gosh, i was fifteen, and you gave me a toy police car! i still remember my classmates laughing at me."

he smiles for some reason. "it seems that you really have some feelings for this taehyung."

how did this conversation turn that way?

"um, isn't it obvious?"

"it is. you treat him like a glass vase."

is he mocking me?

"because he's fragile," i retort. "what's the problem with me helping him through?"

"there's no problem with that. i'm just curious. maybe that's how i should've treated you."

his last statement makes me laugh. "i don't think so. taehyung has... problems. he has a weak heart. it lies in his genes. his mother died from a heart attack after his dad left her, and the only family he has now is his grandma, who literally brought him up."

why am i even telling him this?

"well, seems like your heart is also weak - for him."

"what is this all about, dad? of course i'm able to love, i'm not a robot. the fact that i'm a thief doesn't mean that i'm heartless. and besides, i didn't become a criminal by my own will. you know it better than anyone."

he nods. "surely i do. and that's why i was looking for you this whole time. i just want to help."

okay, wow. that was unexpected. has my jaw ever dropped so low before?

i think not.