Warriors Of Silence (TaeJin)

Chapter 4

Standing alone in a room with a complete stranger has never been an easy task for evern the most social people. The god was making this situation a lot harder to figure out.

Why couldn't Namjoon just have stayed a while longer? I had no idea where to even begin. Talk about tossing me into the deep end.

My increased heartrate was only cheering on my now sweaty hands even more. Why do my palms have to sweat when I'm nervous.

I felt something slip from my hands before clattering loudly to the ground. The clipboard sounded a lot heavier in the ridiculously large, echoing room I had been standing in.

I looked up at Taehyung apologetically as I reached for the clipboard that lay at my feet, hoping that my clumsiness would not ruin my very first day here.

His eyes were vacant, still staring off into the distance as he had been doing when Namjoon and I had first walked in; his right hand lightly supporting his resting chin. He hadn't reacted to the sound at all.

Straightening up, I finally tore my eyes away from the broody mass that was occupying the throne. The only thing breaking the darkness was the white fighting outfit that he was wearing.

I scanned over the schedule in front of me, noting that all the day's activities had been marked off as they were completed.

Do I need a pen too? Where the hell am I meant to find a pen?

My eyes skimmed past all the completed tasks, hoping for another to be taking place soon. The silence was killing me.

Busy schedule my ass. There was nothing more for him to be doing until dinner. What am I meant to do with him?

I sighed in frustration, still clutching the clipboard in clammy hands.

Taehyung still hadn't moved an inch. Did he even know that I was here?

Was he really sulking? This was ridiculous, especially from a man who seemed to insist on wearing a massive set of fake black costume wings.

Did he seriously think that much of himself? I shook my head at the whole situation, scanning for a place to possibly sit down while I waited the next two hours for his dinner show to start. Maybe I could see Hobi.

Clearly there was no mini throne for me to lounge upon and judge the world around me, so I settled for the floor, quickly lowering myself into a cross-legged position with a sort of 'plop' motion.

I heard the god scoff as my behind met with the floor. Im glad that my distress amuses him.

I looked up from my sitting position. He had finally acknowledged that I was in the room with him.

I had expected him to be looking down at me, but his eyes were fixed to the distance infront of him, his expression remaining blank. The only thing that had changed was that his arms were now both settled at his sides.

A frustrated huff escaped my lips as I glared up at the stubborn god. What was his problem?

What felt like an eternity had passed as I sat on the ground, playing with a loose thread on the blazers sleeve.

At one point I had tried keeping my boredom at bay by counting the marble tiles of the giant hall I was sitting in the middle of.

Each glistening white tile was lined with gold. It all just seemed so unnecessary.

The mostly empty hall was adorned with beautiful, human sized sculptures on Greek gods from stories no longer believed or told.

We used to steal texts from the forbidden sections of the facility's library. Each of us took turns reading up on old stories that had been treasured in the past.