Crave | tk ✓

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

"Dig a grave
for the living."

김태형 | Kim Taehyung

TAEHYUNG'S HAND WRAPPED around Jungkook's soft, smaller one as he dragged him in the hallway to another, not a single person present to interact with them, although the dull beat of music and diminished chatter was heard among the walls.

They reached a staircase and climbed up, without sharing much eye contact, Jungkook seemingly patient of Taehyung and where he was taking him. Once they reached the landing, the older tugged him to the room he's already been to: the place where Jungkook's worst memories were stark naked in front of him and his men.

Taehyumg turned to gaze at him, to observe how Jungkook felt about being back, who gapes, flustered. Stammering, he inquires, eyes wide, "Taehyung, why- why am I here?" His voice was rough with raw pain.

Taehyung stepped closer to him, enveloping them with each other's heat, giving a chaste kiss on Jungkook's nose. "Let me show you." He retracts away from their position, gracefully sliding onto the patient's bed, with the various machines surrounding him. He starts fixing the long wires and stuck them on his forehead and temples.

He gestures at the wide screen few feet away, muttering tenderly, "Switch it on." Then, Taehyung picks up an injection filled with scarlet liquid and fed it to his arm, pushing the needle in harshly with no trace of hesitation.

He looks up to see Jungkook unmoving. He huffs a breath in exasperation, voicing out, "Problem?"

Jungkook raised his brows, leaning back a little. "What are you doing?" he questions, tone feathery.

"I wanted to show you my memories," Taehyung answered uneventfully, a pout appearing out of nowhere on his charming face. He expected Jungkook to catch up, being the detective and all.

Peculiar, it felt, thinking about how others felt.

"Taehyung," Jungkook murmured softly, reaching out to the guy's side and bending down to come nose-to-nose with him. He offers gently, "Maybe we can talk about this over coffee or something, you know?"

Taehyung retaliated, off the edge, "I wanna do it this way." He sighed, not realising it came out as a grumble when he accepts, "I sat you through it. I feel g-guilty for that. I really do."

His voice turned taut and haughty, deranged, as he cried out, "I wish I was someone fucking better! I am not! I could have been one of the victims! That bitch should have fucked me to death!"

Hastily, Jungkook grabbed his shoulders, keeping him down as he lashed out.

"Okay," he breaths on Taehyung's heated face, collected. "If you wish so. If it makes you feel better." He backs, striding to the LED screen off at the side, clicking it on and staring at Taehyung, who is completely still, pondering.

A terribly strong jolt whizzed through Taehyung's mind, enough to blind his closed eyes with white lights and something... something else.

Pain.

The night, raining cats and dogs, Mrs. Kim allowed her husband a Sunday night-out with his manly friends. Taehyung, five, babbled around with his toy guns, baby-sitting them as he lay them on the cushions and asked if they liked some cookies in his baby language.

Taehyung didn't know, as Mrs. Kim strode over to him fake-cheerfully, that her head was stuffed with only evil things for him because she was angry, oh, so angry at his father to leave her like that, on Sunday, never too willing to take her out.

That night, Taehyung cried all the time. Abused. Slapped. Played with. Hurt.

By his own mother.

The night's memories dragged behind Taehyung's eyes , who lets out a miserable cry, thrashing and yelling, "NO, NO!" His cerebrum pelted with knives of his past. No, don't hurt me. Not again.

Mrs. Kim loved cats. She had about twenty around the house. Taehyung? Taehyung hated her, hated her cats, hated the house, hated his own self to be so weak, to be so vulnerable.

Not anymore, he decided one day. Nine-years-old and a knife in his hand, he confronted his father.

Told him he wanted to kill his wife.

"If you can, if you do," his father has said flippantly, "You can be the next Kim Seokjin, kiddo." Taehyung didn't know what he meant. Why would he name his uncle?

Taehyung stabbed his mother to death.

"I am sorry," groaned Taehyung. "I AM SORRY!" He screamed, tears falling down his cheek as he struggled, tied up with straps. "I am sorry..." he rumbled, face damp and glistening in the soft light.
Sorry, you needed love, just like me.

A loud wail of agony left Taehyung as another spear pierced through his brain, his body writhing with the pain licking every inch of it.

Some pictures started to reform behind Taehyung's lids, vanishing quite instantly before he felt two hands grasp his shoulders and be embraced by a warm presence.

Jungkook, sniffling, whispered gently, "It's alright. It's okay. You couldn't have fought back." Those words settled upon Taehyung's heart and comforted him to the soul. What was this eerie feeling?

Was I innocent, killing mum?

Jungkook's chest swallowed Taehyung, his buff arms draped heavily over the older's shoulders. With a small motion, Taehyung urged Jungkook to pull his face closer to his own, a request of kiss.

Jungkook inclined his rough lips with Taehyung's wet ones, lighting pushing the latter back to make him realise that Jungkook was there for him. Taehyung tugged his slim fingers inside Jungkook's collars, feeling the tender lips upon his own with every nerve, sniffing at the younger's enticing cologne.

A loud bang emitted, startling the two who jerk their heads over to the door from where the sound came, Lalisa Manoban thundering over to them, her frame torn and panicky.

"What's the matter?" Taehyung inquired as she halts in front of the pair. Lisa's eyes widened as she took in Jungkook's being, more than taken aback— terrified, perhaps. Taehyung steeled. "What is it?"

Lisa lets out a collapsed breath. "They are here. His agents. They raided the bar, they're here."

♧ ♢ ♤ ♡

shitty chapter.
): im sorry. i swear
i have the plot
planned out.