Fear | K.th [Editing]

Pious and Raw [72°]

i would like to thank @fxckoffplease and @goodboi for giving me inspo on this chapter. so, gracias mi amigxs

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"Get up. You have a visitor."

Taehyung sits up in the cheaply made bed, the springs squeaking as he shifts his body; legs falling forward in front of him. He eyes the guard as he's opening up his cell; thoughts lingering in his head on who could possibly be visiting him; on who would visit someone to his nature. He stands up and raises his arms above his head when the guard orders him to do so. He quickly hand cuffs Taehyung and chaperons him out of his room.

Taehyung hangs his head low, watching his feet shuffle forward on their own; he was tired, exhausted from thinking, from not being able to sleep, from plotting.

His eyes shift onto his brother as he passes his room; a small square window allows for anyone to look in, but for Korain it was a double sided mirror; yet as Taehyung glances inside, he sees Korain staring back as if he knew he was going to be there at that moment.

"Sit."

He's pushed into the chair, forced to bring his arms up and then handcuffed to the table. Taehyung sits there, lips cracked, bags under his sunken eyes, dark hair longer, nails bitten and chipped.

He takes note of his surroundings; from the two guards that stand behind him by the door to the two other guards on the opposite side of the panel glass. He doesn't miss how they glance his way every five seconds; as if intimidated by just his ambience alone. He lightly smiles.

He doesn't know why they're so afraid of him, he's done nothing to prove the tabloids right; ganging up on other inmates, beating them to a pulp, blackmailing. All Taehyung does is get through each passing day, ignores the banter from loud mouth douche bags who don't believe that he's an ex-mafia member even if it's all everyone has talked about for the past two years.

He doesn't get the chance to get heated, his twin brother takes the load off of him, because Korain thrives off of feeling superior to others. He loves to hear the screams of agony that come from his victims, the terrified expressions on their face when he proves them wrong; maybe that's why the guards are so tense around Taehyung--they can't differentiate which ones which anymore after they had Korain dye his hair to black. After the stunt Korain pulled trying to escape through a vent, because he couldn't handle the atmosphere anymore and somehow dragged Taehyung into it—the guards classify them both as threats now.

Humans are peculiar creatures; they've seen danger and know not to go near it, so if danger looks similar to safety; they'll avoid it no matter if there's a path that shows them otherwise. If Taehyung wanted to leave, he could easily do so.

The door on the other side clicks open and a lanky male dressed in a tan trench coat and black cap shielding most of his face approaches, sauntering over to the old squeaky wooden chair in front of Taehyung and taking a seat.

He takes into account Taehyung's appearance and lets out a sigh before reaching over to the phone attached to the divider. Taehyung mimics the same action a few delayed seconds later; the shackles grazing against his wrists as he changes position in an attempt to get comfortable.

They stare at each other, glad to see one another alive. It was like a weight had lifted off of their shoulders.

"You look like shit." Taehyung lets out a wry chuckle at his words, agreeing with him by a small nod. Seokjin observes the state that Taehyung's in, his fingers clutch around the phone tighter as he inhales.

"Your arm's okay." Taehyung mentions, glancing down at the appendage. Seokjin looks down at his own arm and nods.

"It's been almost two years, I'm surprised you remembered."