This was Taehyung's home now. This was his home court.

You clenched your jaw, every fiber of your being recoiling from the beautiful man in front of you. "Be fast."

Taehyung smiled a little, his tongue flicking over his lips. He looked beautiful, which made you hate it even more. Hate the fact that you couldn't hate him, not completely. "What I have to say can't be explained in a rush."

He walked over to you, automatically making you step back. "There's a lot I haven't told you," he said, and you felt confused and curious. It was going to be the death of you, you knew—your curiosity, your desire to find an answer. To what? You weren't exactly sure.

You didn't know why, but you were coiled tighter today than usual. Maybe it was being in his house—the boy who had broken your heart. It was surprising that you were still on your feet instead of on the floor.

"I'm going to give you five minutes," you said, but your voice was weak. Taehyung's eyes glinted, whether from malice or tears, you had no idea.

He shook his head. "I told you I would help you even if you hated me—"

You swallowed harshly, your breathing turning heavy. "You lied."

"I didn't."

You raised your chin, steely eyes looking into his. "You said you wanted to talk."

"We're not so much about want as we are about need," Taehyung intoned, glancing down at you through hooded eyes. Too close. He was too close.

"And what do we need?" You tried to sound strong, but your voice was a whisper.

"I think you know what we want is precisely what we need," he said, voice breathy and low, as he stepped closer. Your heart lurched in your chest, stuttering as he stepped even closer, his chest just touching yours.

It was quiet, so quiet you could almost hear the blood rushing through your head and your heartbeat pounding in your throat. Taehyung swallowed, his teeth coming down over his lower lip.

He'd never hesitated before, so why was he doing it now?

Every fibre of your being was screaming at you to turn around, to look away, to slap him, but you couldn't. There was anger shimmering under the surface of your thin composure. You had had enough of this. "You know what?" you asked, shaking your head. This was rage, blinding and killing. "Fuck you."

You raised your hands to push him away, but he caught them. Taehyung made no move to pull you closer, but his eyes were burning. "I'm sorry," he said.

"Sorry doesn't fucking cut it," you bit back, eyes flaring. "This is not healthy, Taehyung. It's not healthy if we keep coming back to each other even after—" Even after you cheated. There had been many instances when you'd heard of relationships when people kept going back to their twisted exes. Not once, not ever. You couldn't do this.

"I'm not asking you to get together with me," he said, biting his lip. His lips. Your gaze cut to them for a split second before you tore it away. "I'm just asking you to stay. Just for now."

It made you feel like shit, but you were weakening. Angry tears had gathered in your eyes, and you were blinking them away fast. Your entire body was wound-up, stiff as it tried to resist, but you couldn't. You just couldn't. "I can't," you whimpered. "We can't."

"Please," he breathed. No, you thought. He had let go of your wrists, but you weren't pulling away. Why weren't you pulling away? "Stay."

I'm fucked up was your last thought before you gave up, letting darkness claim you. I'm so sorry.

|

Jimin leaned against the back of the couch, pushing his tongue against the inside of his cheek, unable to help glancing at the clock constantly. It was already nine, and he was waiting.

You weren't home yet.

She's okay, he told himself, restlessly bouncing his knee. She'll be fine.

But it was late.

Though it wasn't time yet, Jimin couldn't help but be worried. He punched in your phone number again, letting the phone ring on speaker as he set it down next to him.

It went to voicemail.

He ended the call, letting out a frustrated breath as he ran his fingers through his hair. She's fine, stop being paranoid.

But he worried anyway.

||

You gasped, throwing your gead back as Taehyung's lips met your neck. "Taehyung," you breathed out sharply as his hands, resting on your hips, pulled you into him, before unbuttoning the first few buttons of your shirt. 

"Not now," he whispered into your neck, and he didn't know why he was crying. "Please, please."

I don't want this, I don't want this, I don't want this—

Your hands ran through his hair, legs tangling with his as he kissed you roughly, each kiss filled with barely held back desire and need. Need.

"I've waited enough," he muttered, his hands slipping behind your thighs and he pushed you against the wall as you wrapped your legs around his waist.

I do want this.

You whimpered as he bit down on your collarbone, caving against his chest as your lips found his again.

There was beauty in that moment, a poignancy that was as repugnant as it was alluring. Taehyung felt like a glass sculpture in your untrained hands, like if you let go, he would break. There was anger directed at him and at you, and there was the pull. It brought you together, tied you to your fate, and left you for dead.

"Taehyung..." You breathed out as he carried you into his room.

He kissed you again, silencing you.

|||

Silencing his scream, Jimin gritted his teeth, twirling the remote between his fingers as he crossed and uncrossed his legs.

Fifteen minutes past nine.

Fifteen minutes of him waiting.

Fifteen minutes of him worrying.

Fifteen minutes—

And you were still not picking up.

| \/

Taehyung's lips worked down your chest as you arched up against him, your back pressing into the mattress as your hands roamed his torso. Every kiss was feverish and fast, full of lust and want. Want.

His hands slipped under your jeans, pulling them off with almost animalistic passion, and then moved to his belt, unbuckling.

For this moment, you submitted to him, letting all thoughts of everything else fly out of your mind. This moment, you cared about yourself, you cared about yourself first.

"I hate you," you said, the whispery tone of your voice contrasting completely with the nature of your words. "I hate you so much."

"I know," Taehyung whispered back.

\/

Taehyung.

Jimin clenched and unclenched his freezing fingers as he pulled up a blanket over his form. He wondered if you were with Taehyung. He was afraid, afraid that you wanted Taehyung more than him, afraid that he had fucked up.

That he would fuck up again.

His eyes flickered to the clock again, jaw clenching and unclenching with his whitened knuckles.

Nine forty-five.

\/|

Nine forty-five, and your body writhed with his, hands tangled in hair and lips molding and tongues dancing together.

His hands gripped your hips, long fingers turning white as they guided you. Your own hands were busy, one mowing through his hair and the other leaving scratches on his back.

One last time, one last night. That was all Taehyung wanted—for himself to be yours, for you to be his for one last night.

"Y/N," he breathed as he let go inside you, his body arching against yours, coming together, rising and falling with the intensity and inevitability of a wave crashing against the shore.

"Taehyung," hou whispered, his arms coming around you in a protective hold.

"Y/N."

\/||

Y/N.

Jimin could think of nothing else.

Ten now, and still no sign of you.

Jimin's head collapsed into his hands, as he let his feverish eyes close. His sweaty t-shirt clung to his torso, making him think about where your shirt may be. Clinging to your figure with sweat, or forgotten in some recesses of Taehyung's house?

On another day, he wouldn't have cared even if you showed up at midnight. But he was concerned—for the past two weeks you had barely stepped out of the apartment, and this change was so sudden it gave him vertigo. Jimin knew he wasn't your caretaker, that you could go wherever you wanted and do whatever you wished, but he couldn't help himself.

He bit down hard on his tongue to prevent himself from screaming, tasting the metallic tang of blood in his mouth.

Come back home, he thought desperately. Please.

\/|||

"Please," Taehyung licked his lips, blinking away the sting as he rested his face in crook of your neck. "Please don't leave me."

Oh, misery. Oh, grief.

You twisted your fingers in the dark strands of his messy hair, breathing heavy. "We can't, Taehyung." You bit your lip. "We can't, and you know that."

Oh, selflessness. Oh, selfishness.

"I never cheated on you," he said, and his hands were shaking as they rested between your bodies. Clasped together, caging him in. "I'm sorry. Please believe me."

"You don't get to choose, Taehyung," you said, feeling a sharp pain in your chest. Dizzy. At that moment, you felt...at peace. At war with something that was, for once, outside you.

No one gets to choose.

|X

Jimin could barely keep his eyes open, as he sat shivering under the covers, on the couch.

Stop waiting, he told himself. She's not your responsibility. She's not yours.

His eyes flickered to the phone, and then to the clock again.

The call connected, and his heart leaped.

"It's eleven in the fucking night, you better have a good excuse for this, asshole."

Eleven.

"Lee?" he said, almost hearing her confusion from the line. "Can I come over?"

He closed his eyes.

X

You closed your eyes, hands shaking against the handle of the door.

Turning slightly, you looked at the boy who lay asleep on the bed, tear tracks still marking his otherwise perfect face.

What have I done?

He deserved it, something in you snarled. Don't regret it.

But you couldn't help it.

Your eyes strayed for a moment to the shirt hugging your form limply, barely covering your chest, and you stared at the tapestry of violet and brown decorating the edge of your vision.

"I'm sorry," you said quietly, gaze level on Taehyung's oddly peaceful face as he slept on. "I wish this never happened. To either of us."

And then you left.