❝The tiger never digs a hole in the ground; he waits for the bunny to come up, and then he attacks. Do you understand?❞
Jeon Jungkook, a man most praised by angels, falls for a guy to get his heart stampede one more time.
Or, a criminal mastermind w...
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HUMANS ARE WEIRD, WEIRD BEINGS, with lust for success, more money, the best sex. Never the need to experience tragedy, but always the need to capture pleasure for their own— which, quiet lamely, trigger ordeals for them.
Happiness is a problem. Jungkook knew that. You can never ask for too much and be assured it will last forever and won't lose its affect. Like alcohol. It always ends up bad.
Taehyung, in this case, is not one of them. He is a victim of some terrible act that led him to mask his better side and fight every moment or person to not ever let that bitter past to repeat itself. His conscious draped with rebellion for anyone and anything that might prove him as weak, vulnerable.
Jungkook pondered upon Taehyung's state as he was forced on a dental chair by two men in a blinding white room full of suspicious tool and big machines, his thoughts weirdly compressed and limited, his senses numbed.
They have dosed him with morphine.
His next, lopsided words left him as he made out Taehyung's silhouette loom over the chair, "What are you gonna do to me?" His eyelids were getting heavier by the second.
"Shh, baby boy," comes Taehyung's enchanting, husky voice near Jungkook's ear. "You'll be okay. Or..." A low chuckle and the next words trickling with malice, "As okay as a madman is."
Few feeble push at Jungkook's forehead made him realise the men were connecting his brain to some sort of monitor in front of which sat Taehyung's perfect stature.
A groan left Jungkook when a shock reverberated through his skull, dominating itself on the wide space of his brain's cerebrum, the intensifying pain mounting Jungkook's scream to the extreme, his eyes bursting with tears.
Then the memories roll.
Jungkook's dad was a narcissist. His mother worked in a run-down hotel below their apartment. Eight-years-old Jungkook plays with his stuff toys near the kitchen, unwary of what was happening in his parent's bedroom.
A shout made him flinch, dropping his toys. He quietly makes his way to the bedroom door, hiding behind the wall to peek inside.
A woman, not his mother, stood half naked in the corner, horrified as she looked down at Jungkook's father who was restraining down a woman with a pillow on her face, muffled cries leaving her weak frame, her sandals so much like mommy's, and the feet went slack after a moment's horror of realisation...
Jungkook's torturous shouts fill the room, his cheeks wet with uncontrollable tears. The vision changed.
That day, Jungkook's alcoholic girlfriend, the two committed in a three year's relationship, was a wee bit unmindful when she invited another woman again in Jungkook's own house, to enjoy her body, when she knew Jungkook was coming home early. He would never forget the sinful moans that came from his room, the same one he shared with a woman he thought who he would love forever.
His blur of memories resharpened to form another, one more recent than the others.
Jungkook knew Yoongi and Jimin loved each other, the latter more uncertain about his feelings held accountable because of the series of melancholic events endured by him.
Jungkook... Jungkook loved Jimin, too. Maybe more than Yoongi ever did. Jimin was the only one who knew everything about Jungkook, who never pitied him, but was always there for him... Jungkook loved Jimin more than anyone could have ever loved.
At that time Yoongi was not part of the staff, but not few months after Yoongi joined, Jungkook caught Yoongi and Jimin kissing behind the water dispenser on his floor. His heart had shattered into a billion pieces. Another lover, another bad choice.
The stimulant oozed out Jungkook's demons like a knife stabbed to spill out the blood, his agony making him tremble in his state of shock, incoherent words leaving him before he yelled out his pain to the whole world, arching his back when the next memory resurfaced;
"T-Taehyung." Jungkook had said, before the men would drag him to this room, "Taehyung, I can make you, you," he states, desperate. "You don't deserve to live like this."
Taehyung's handsome face closed on to Jungkook's, their lips one kiss away, his ethereal features buckling Jungkook's knees in awe. Yet the older's words, made the sky tear apart to cry Jungkook's tears, "No, I don't. But you deserve to be not loved, and that's why you stand here, and I, here." There was a bitter truth about his words that crashed the whole world upon Jungkook's shoulders.
"Stop." Someone said calmly. Jungkook couldn't identify who, his breathing was too loud and his eyes were blurry, nose runny. His heart was aching so hard, throat too dry and itchy to croak a word out.
The cruel pain his brain bared was ebbing away, the wires popping out on his forehead. Something heavy lifted from his wrists and it dawned on him that the men were pushing him down this whole time. His chest was burdened as if someone had put a brick on his heart from the inside.
He couldn't speak so he glances at Taehyung, who stands up from the chair and comes at Jungkook's.
Jungkook flinched when Taehyung neared him, panicked at the closeness all of a sudden. He did not want the man to touch him. However, Taehyung, ever so slowly, pressed his lips between Jungkook's handsome brows, and whispers against his hot skin;
"It's just the beginning, baby boy."
____
T-T i felt so so so sad for kookie while writing this.
