Petals Behind Glass | Taegi

6- It's Mine, Mine, Mine for the Taking

The box was taunting him; a sharp needle poking at his skin until his fidgeting fingers sentenced his nails to his guillotining teeth.

Put down on the coffee table, it ridiculed him, made a mockery of his desperation, provoked him to act on impulse and take it.

He knew he wanted to.

Back and forth he paced in the living room, eyes closed shut. He had to restrain from temptation, his shaking fists clutching the hem of his tuxedo with composed force.

But in the battle between his disciplined conscious and his grasping urges, his will power lost control, and the box was in his hands before his mind had admitted defeat.

It weighed as much as the lump in his throat, and opened as wide as his eyes, revealing his father's medals.

His mind was commanding a new combat for thieving fingers when his mother walking in threw off his guard.

She was dressed in a magnificent off shoulder dark purple gown, luscious long hair curling down into waves over her chest. The sharpness of her eyes was emphasized, and their darkness brought to light.

A beautiful yet forsaken fair maiden from a fairytale.

"Wow, mom, I- I've never seen you look so elegant before."

"It is a formal event, right?" she said, bitterness dripping down her tongue.

Her mouth was twisted to the side, following her avoidant eyes as she shifted from one leg to the other, arm wrapped around herself.

Yoongi scratched the back of his neck, coughing at the fog of awkward smoke. Desperate to clear the air, he extended his free hand towards her, offering to escort her out of the house.

Without a change in expression, she placed her hand in his, and Yoongi's eyes all but bulged out.

He was holding the freshly manicured hands of a delicate and refined woman, every single speck of dirt wiped away, much like her true identity.

"Mom, how—"

"I know what's expected of me, nabi. Let's just go."

Tightening his lips, he drove them to Mary's house.

If that was even the appropriate term.

Past an impressive iron gate, around a broad graveled turning, stood a luxurious mansion, its interior a sight to behold.

Inlaid marble. Bookend fireplace. Winding mahogany staircase.

The expensive furniture was lit by the imposing chandelier hanging from the soaring ceiling covered in hand painted art; floor to ceiling windows opening up to an infinity pool sitting on a spectacular wooden deck.

Yoongi was famished, craving to consume his surroundings in its entirety.

This was the life his father could have given him, the life he had given up.

All he left him with was a blazing flame of resentment in his eyes.

All he left his mother with were clouds for her to rest her head in.

"Mikyung! Yoongi!" Mary approached them with a hug. "I'm so glad you made it!"

Mikyung forced a small smile. "Of course, thank you so much for this."

"Please, it's the least I could do for such a talented man."

Mikyung nodded with pinched lips, her eyes moving around, making way for the same fog of awkward smoke to cloud the room.