Order or disorder depends on organization; courage or cowardice on circumstances; strength or weakness on dispositions.
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The Art of War
Sun Tzu

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Jungkook had never been in love.

It's wasn't that he didn't want to offer up his heart, to fully break down his walls and bear his soul unconditionally. It wasn't that he didn't believe in love or doubted the magnitude of its power. It wasn't any of those things, because he did believe love existed and he did want to share himself with another.

Jungkook very much wanted to fall in love.

But growing up in a broken home changed his perspective. He witnessed first hand how love could go wrong. He observed how his mother's unrequited love for a different man caused her to be angry and bitter around her family. He watched as his father used alcohol to forget the love he felt for his wife. And, very rarely, he even saw Namjoon use love to coerce Jin when they had arguments.

Because of all this, Jungkook chose to keep others at a distance. He wanted to do anything possible to protect himself from getting hurt.

He still craved intimacy and human touch, of course, so he decided just to forgo the commitment piece of the puzzle. He didn't need an emotional connection. The physical side, he thought, should have been enough. So he began hooking up with guys when he was sixteen, always warning them that he didn't want a relationship. He preferred to keep things casual; that way, he didn't have to risk heartache and pain.

And while he never seriously dated, he held onto the dream of finding someone to love him . . . Someone for him to love. The right person would be patient and understanding of his past, not in any particular rush to force commitment. That person would always work on bettering their relationship, knowing that love itself was not enough - a successful partnership needed dedication and open communication. And that person would show him that it was okay - preferential, even - to be vulnerable and would be vulnerable in return.

Naturally, this idea scared the shit out of him. Though he never gave up on this wish; he looked forward to meeting someone he'd want to take that leap of faith with.

But then Jungkook was forced into hiding and his entire life paused. All the grand plans he had - going off to college, discovering himself, maybe even giving a relationship a try - dissipated just like his freedom. The cage locked around him, providing no escape from his negative father, the oppressive memories of his house, or the lonely solitude.

Though he didn't complain . . . Well, he tried not to, at least. Keeping a low profile benefited both him and Namjoon, ensuring they'd each be as safe as possible. So he listened to his brother's directives, essentially sheltering in place so enemies couldn't use him as bait.

And for three years, Jungkook patiently awaited the chance to live his own life.

But after everything, his diligence didn't even matter. His entire world shattered as his brother was unceremoniously ripped out of his life, nothing more than the product of an ambush gone wrong. When Jin called to let him know what had happened . . . Jungkook's heart splintered and fractured in his chest. Each shallow inhale he took caused the shards to poke his ribs, so much so he found it easier not to breathe. Grief raged through his veins; his limbs were heavy with the weight of his loss.

Mentally, Jungkook wasn't in a good place.

So with all of that taking a toll on his mind, body, heart, and soul, he never anticipated meeting someone who would come into his life and challenge all he once believed. He never expected to open his wounded heart, to allow someone to peer inside and see its ruins and tatters and tears.

Jungkook never thought he'd meet someone like Kim Taehyung.

Taehyung.

Everything Jungkook dreamed of for himself - that unlikely but hopeful chance of finding love - suddenly seemed within reach. The possibility of someone loving him, of him loving that person in return, was right there staring him in the eyes. All he had to do was extend his hand and welcome that potential wholeheartedly.

It all happened so quickly and illogically and unpredictably, but Jungkook knew in his bones that Taehyung was meant to be something more to him. Sure, their circumstances might have encouraged them to act faster than they otherwise would have, but that didn't change that what they felt was real.

It was powerful and scary and . . .

Raw.

Pure.

Honest.

Jungkook wanted to explore how else their connection could evolve, what else it could make him feel.

Jungkook just wanted Taehyung.

At first, yes, his only priority had been to learn the elder's body. The desire to feel Taehyung's every dip and curve, to uncover what lay beneath fabric and clothing, had been his sole focus upon first meeting the former bodyguard. But slowly, that shifted towards wanting to know the elder's mind, to lifting the veil and understanding his deepest dreams and fears. And when he saw flashes of Taehyung's heart and soul . . .

Jungkook wanted the elder to discover his heart and soul, too.

Fuck. It would have been so fucking easy to hand himself over to Kim Taehyung, to offer up everything while asking for nothing in return. He would have done it, too, if they only had the time.

Yet from the beginning, some higher power set a limit - an expiry date - on their time together. They didn't have the chance to explore whatever was blossoming between them; they didn't get to question if they could be more. They had only been granted a few days with each other, a few days which would shake Jungkook to his core.

That was their fate . . . That's what was written in the stars.

And while Jungkook should just be grateful that he had the opportunity to meet Taehyung in the first place, he still hurt. The preview - the teaser, the taste - of the elder was not enough. If anything, the time they had only served to remind him of the time they would not have together. From here on out, his days would be void of the man who openly and genuinely cared for him.

But Jungkook didn't regret meeting Taehyung. Fuck, he could never do such a thing. Taehyung had such a big heart - seriously, who in their right mind would risk their life for their own imposter? And then there was the elder's intelligence, empathy, and kindness that also drew Jungkook in like a ship headed for home.

Even with all of his fear over their situation and his uncertainties about love, Jungkook felt safe with Taehyung. He knew the elder would never try to hurt him; no, Taehyung demonstrated time and time again that all he wanted to do was put Jungkook first.

And that didn't sound like obligation or duty to Jungkook.

No . . . It sounded and felt like love . . . The first glimpse of love he'd seen in so long.

Jungkook wanted it, wanted to hold onto that promise for as long as possible. If only he could nurture and safeguard that tiny flame, maybe he'd be able to coax it into a healthy fire. And maybe he would've been fine with merely consuming and burning before, but now he wanted to light up the darkness around him. He wanted to be the warmth and comfort that Taehyung needed.

Perhaps Taehyung could have been all of that for him as well.

Now . . . Now he wouldn't find out.

To avoid sinking into a deeper hole, Jungkook tried not to concentrate on everything ripped from his grasp. He tried not to think of how much his head, bones, and heart hurt. He tried not to feel the empty space expanding in his chest. He even tried to limit his inhales and exhales, unable to bear the way his throat burned and threatened to swell shut.

This was what missing someone felt like.

Fuck, Jungkook already missed Taehyung so much, and he'd only gotten to the end of the bed and breakfast's tree-lined driveway. If this was what two minutes into their separation felt like, he couldn't anticipate how he'd feel in an hour. A day. A week or a month, possibly even a year.

What would happen to them if they didn't see or speak to each other for all that time? Would they forget the connection they shared, would time and space diminish the weight of what they felt?

Jungkook didn't know what would happen, so for both his and Taehyung's sake, he prayed they'd be reunited sooner rather than later. But what did prayers mean when people with guns hunted for Taehyung? What could Jungkook do to not be so useless, what could he do to help?

Nothing.

Jungkook couldn't do anything at all.

He had no connections. He had no training. He thought of himself as a nobody . . . A nobody who cared for a somebody. Realistically, he'd just get in the way . . . He knew that. However, that didn't change the fact that he wanted to do anything within his power to protect Taehyung, to shield the former bodyguard from any threat of harm or danger.

But that'd be impossible to do when Jungkook didn't even begin to understand what he was up against.

So instead of repeatedly asking what if, he directed all of his efforts on keeping the image of Kim Taehyung alive in his mind. He didn't even have a picture of the elder - understood he shouldn't even search online for his name - so he let himself be productive by committing that beautiful man to memory.

There was Taehyung's chocolate eyes, his piercing gaze that promised numerous forms of passion.

There was his full mouth, the sweet-tasting lips that drugged Jungkook's mind completely.

Of course, he couldn't forget Taehyung's smile, the single most gorgeous gesture he ever had the privilege of witnessing.

There was the depth of his voice, the husky tones that stirred an endless longing in the pit of Jungkook's stomach.

There was Taehyung's laugh, a rare sound over the last few days but one that consistently grew louder and stronger.

And while Jungkook could go into exact detail on Taehyung's stomach, legs, ass, and other parts, he chose to just remember the elder's body as nothing short of immaculate.

Jungkook refused to forget any of these details, refused to let the elder's beauty slip from his mind. Because failing to preserve the image of his angel felt like losing him for eternity, and that wasn't an option. He . . . He couldn't lose Taehyung.

But why did it feel like he just did? Why did it feel like he was never going to see Taehyung again?

Jungkook looked out the window, eyes boring into one of the many trees at the end of the driveway. The car sat idly there for a few moments, giving him plenty of time to watch the leaves swaying in the wind. In a sense, it was peaceful, though completely contradictory to the raging emotions storming under Jungkook's skin.

Another minute or so passed and the Chief cleared his throat. "You need to direct me to your house, Jungkook. I don't know where I'm going."

"I can drive myself back," Jungkook muttered under his breath, head still turned away from the elder. "And besides, shouldn't you stay with Taehyung and, I don't know, provide protection?"

"I trust Taehyung to keep himself alive for the hour I'm away," Yoongi answered, his voice full of conviction. "You, on the other hand . . ."

Jungkook innately knew the unspoken words and finally turned to look at the Chief. "You still don't trust me fully."

"Do you blame me?"

Really, Jungkook didn't. After all, he got himself in this mess by lying and using resources that weren't his to use. And at the end of the day, Yoongi was just doing his job.

"No. I probably wouldn't trust myself either," he settled on at last, smiling sadly and bowing his head. "I haven't given any of you a good reason to believe I'd never hurt anyone."

"Taehyung believes you, and I believe you wouldn't do anything to hurt him. But I can't take chances anymore. I think it's in the best interest of everyone if you go home, that way you're safe and I can keep my eye on Taehyung," Yoongi explained neutrally, hands resting on the steering wheel. "Though I can't do that unless you tell me where you live."

And while Jungkook knew it was pointless to argue, he had to try regardless. "Why can't I stay for a couple more days? If you're going to remain here anyway, why . . . Why are you making me leave him so soon?"

A soft sigh left the Chief's mouth, one that sounded more like understanding than irritation. "Let me piece together a scenario for you, okay? Let's imagine that you stay and that something happened. First of all, not only am I protecting Taehyung, but I'm also responsible for your two friends who live at the lodge. Adding you to the mix means four lives that fall under my protection. But anyway, let's say attackers found us. When it comes to Taehyung, I have no question in my mind what would happen, do you?"

Jungkook swallowed, able to picture it all pretty clearly. "He'd do anything to keep me safe."

Yoongi hummed in affirmation. "Exactly. And if he were to get hurt from acting as your shield . . . I can't explain to my boss that his son died defending someone I should've sent away."

Jungkook knew this was the exact reason why he did need to leave. He was a liability, he was . . .

A person Taehyung cared about.

And in no world did Jungkook want Taehyung getting hurt . . . dying . . . because of him. That would destroy him. That would incinerate what was left of his heart and remove his very soul from his body.

So he nodded his head resolutely, looking out his window once more. "Take a left. I'll direct you to my house."

They drove in an almost constant state of silence, the only break in the quiet being Jungkook's monotone directions. The stillness in the car seemed to foreshadow what was to come back at his house: Loneliness and isolation. And while he attempted to steel his nerves, to prepare for that type of solitude, he didn't think it was even possible to prepare.

So rather than fearing that fate, he held onto these last few minutes of not being alone. While Yoongi was not exactly his first choice for a companion, maybe he'd be somewhat willing to talk with him.

"Can I ask you something?" Jungkook questioned, deciding to regress into his old ways and be overly nosey.

"You can ask, but that doesn't mean I'll answer," Yoongi responded, eyes trained forward on the road.

Jungkook scoffed, but proceeded with his question anyway. "You look young. How did you manage to become the Chief so quickly?"

"I'm not that young. I'm twenty-six."

"Twenty-six and the Chief of Security for a global corporation. Maybe I just don't understand how the corporate world works, but I would've assumed years of experience were needed to land a role like that," Jungkook mused aloud, figuring there must have been several older and more qualified applicants for the position.

A genuinely amused chuckle sounded from Yoongi, a light and soft noise. "Are you asking to hear my resume?"

Jungkook let out a puff of air, half-rolling his eyes even though the gesture couldn't be seen. "I was just curious. But whatever. You don't have to answer."

"No need to get testy," the Chief said, a note of laughter still coloring his voice. "But since you're so fascinated, I was in a police academy for a couple of years. I found out I was rather good at tactics and precision shooting, and started working with a foreign diplomat. That was one way to get real-world experience quickly.

"Long story short," Yoongi continued after a brief pause for air, "I ended up meeting the CEO a year or so ago at a government party. I got wind of some questionable guests and organized Mr. Kim's security team. Mr. Kim was impressed, offered me a job overseeing the security strategies for the company oil rigs, and the rest was history. I reported up to the old Chief for about six months, though my work was quite separate from his. I had no overlap with the personal security department, so it came as a shock once we all learned he leaked private data. After he was dealt with, Mr. Kim asked me to interview. Said he trusted my judgment, and that age had nothing to do with my capabilities."

That was a lot of information to process, so Jungkook decided to think it over more seriously later. But for now, he turned towards the Chief and watched his face carefully. "That was a lot to tell someone you supposedly don't trust."

Yoongi briefly met his gaze. "None of those details are classified. You can pull up my work history on LinkedIn."

"Seriously? You're on LinkedIn?" Jungkook laughed incredulously, somehow having a difficult time picturing the gun-wielding Chief on a professional website.

"Of course, I am," the elder retorted with a wave of his hand. "Not only can I build connections with people, but I can also do some digging on them, too. It's a rather useful tool."

Alright, so maybe the Chief was smarter than Jungkook thought. However, that did prompt another question, one somewhat similar to what he asked Taehyung a couple of days ago. "Did you always dream of being some big shot? Is this what you hoped of doing with your life?"

Yoongi considered that for a moment, pushing his lips together in a contemplative pout. "No, and not really, I guess. I just . . . I set my goals ridiculously high. That was my problem and now I'm paying the ultimate price. People don't often think about the unglamorous side of having power. The stress . . . The constant pressure . . . Failing . . . It takes a toll after a while."

Oddly enough, that answer gave Jungkook ten times more confidence in the Chief than he had before. Yoongi didn't appear to have a thirst for control or prestige like his predecessor; in fact, he didn't seem to think of himself as high and mighty at all. He viewed this role as a job and nothing more, rather than a gateway to total domination.

"I can see why Taehyung's dad wanted you to interview. It seems like you have a good head on your shoulders," he concluded after a couple of moments, already feeling more comfortable with the Chief. "Take the next right."

They were only a few minutes out from Jungkook's house now, the familiar sense of suffocation tickling the back of his throat. That house was a host of bad memories, a prison he silently suffered within for years. He'd taken these past few days of reprieve for granted and now had to face the unwelcome reality of his situation.

Jungkook would be on his own, separated from the world and void of the people he cared about.

His glimpse of freedom had faded from view, and in its place, was Jungkook's childhood home. The busy streets, the sounds of cars and people, flooded his senses. He'd be surrounded by noise and activity, yet in that house he'd be completely desolate.

Panic started to creep down Jungkook's spine. Willingly setting foot in this place . . . Willingly sinking back into the shadows . . . Willingly watching as his life passed before his eyes . . .

No. He had to stop those sorts of thoughts. This was for his safety. For Taehyung's safety. This wasn't like before when there was no perceived danger; this time, he felt he had a greater purpose for subjecting himself to the guaranteed loneliness.

So he wrapped his fingers around the door handle and prepared to step outside.

"A few things, Jungkook, before you go," the Chief interjected, putting the car into park. "I need to make sure we're on the same page."

"Okay," Jungkook replied, breathing a silent sigh of relief that he didn't have to leave just yet.

"As I mentioned earlier, I'll get you a car and phone before Taehyung and I depart Busan. I realize it may seem unfair, but it's for everyone's safety."

"Right." At least this piece of news wasn't entirely new. He endured most of the shock back at the bed and breakfast.

"I'll need you to abide by a couple of rules once you have these items," the Chief added severely, his face tightened in concentration. "Don't contact any of your friends for about a week. I want to make sure there's adequate time for things to return to normal."

Normal. To Jungkook, things wouldn't be normal for a while. But he didn't offer any objections; he merely nodded his head.

Yoongi kept his eyes sharp as he continued. "And, probably the most important thing, don't try to find Taehyung. Don't even search for his name on the internet. I still don't know who is behind all of this, and in case people have eyes on you . . ."

It wasn't difficult to determine which person the Chief insinuated. "You're talking about Jin. Is he still a suspect?"

"We're continuing to look into your brother-in-law, yes," the Chief said, sliding his hand into his pocket and pulling out a piece of paper. "If you hear from him and have any suspicion whatsoever, call me. It's an untraceable number and won't be risky at all."

Jungkook wanted to grumble about not having a phone to make any calls, but if things got to that point, he'd figure it out. So he took the paper in silence and tucked it securely into his pants.

Yoongi regarded him for a moment, eyes drilling right through his skull before he spoke once more. "And if anything happens that puts you in danger, use that number as well. You're not my responsibility, but I'm not going to leave you to fend for yourself completely. I'd feel too guilty."

"Okay. Thanks, I guess," Jungkook voiced quietly, sensing the end of their conversation and the beginning of his lonely road ahead. "I . . . Do you think . . .?"

"What is it?"

"How long do you think this will go on for? How long . . . How long will it be until I see him again?" Jungkook traced over his tattoos, suddenly wishing he had the chance to share their meanings with Taehyung.

"We have limited leads, Jungkook. Limited leads on any of the attacks that have happened for years. So when I say I don't know, that's an understatement. I have no idea when it'll be safe enough for you two to reunite."

It was infinitely much worse not to have a countdown - a guess, even - to when he could see Taehyung again. If there was an end in sight, something they could work towards, that would make everything just slightly more bearable.

But he had none of those things; there were zero reassurances that the end would come quickly.

"Before you leave Busan, he'll have to come with you, right? To drop off the car, you'll need someone else to pick you up." At this point, Jungkook was grasping at straws. He was probably making a fool of himself in the Chief's eyes, but it didn't matter.

All that mattered was the chance of seeing Taehyung one more time.

"Your two friends will most likely bring you the car and phone," Yoongi stated, but at least he had the decency to sound regretful. "Again, that's the safest for everyone."

Jungkook's heart sank all over again, his brief flash of hope extinguishing immediately.

"Alright, Jungkook. I need to get back now. Remember that if anything changes to let me know. And if there's any promise from my side, I'll be in touch. Alright?" Yoongi looked expectantly at him, waiting for an affirmation.

So Jungkook dipped his chin and opened the car door. "Alright."

He scrambled outside and grabbed his bag, flinging it over his shoulder as Yoongi gave him a solemn nod. And then the Chief drove off, leaving Jungkook on his own.

Alone.

So completely, entirely, utterly alone.

Each step he took towards his front door was heavy, the movement reluctant and disheartened. The onslaught of emotions and feelings were simmering beneath his skin again, getting closer to a boil as he approached the house. And with no distractions to divert his attention - with no Taehyung to help him through his grief and pain - he was going to combust.

Jungkook let himself into the silent house, a clutter of beer cans and empty liquor bottles decorating almost every surface. Right, back to one of his duties: cleaning up after his drunken father. He sure as hell knew the place would remain a mess unless he took it upon himself to restore everything to its proper order.

He set his duffel bag down by the door, unable to go back to the jail of his bedroom just yet. Instead, he collapsed on his couch and buried his head in his hands, trying to think of nothing at all.

But the vision of Taehyung immediately captured his mind, prompting tears to leak from his eyes and his shoulders to shake with heartache.

Jungkook would give anything just to be by Taehyung's side for another moment, to hear his laugh. The elder had so effortlessly painted his bleak world in color and light and warmth, allowing him to remember that things wouldn't always be so difficult or depressing. But he had trouble focusing on that now. All he could think of was how he found Taehyung then lost him so quickly.

With blurry eyes, he fumbled for the TV remote so he didn't have to be alone with his thoughts. The news flickered to life, a station he hated but couldn't be bothered to change. It helped to drown out all of the noise in his head.

He didn't know how much time went by. He was nothing more than a shell - a sitting statue - unable to process much of what he heard. Countless reports of politics and weather and sports droned on, yet he barely retained one piece of information.

Jungkook just stared with wide, almost unblinking eyes at the screen, unfeeling and numb.

Cold.

Empty.

Devastated.

At some point - right about when Jungkook started clutching onto his stomach in an attempt to hold himself together - a particular news report caught his attention. How couldn't it, when the anchor spoke of Korean National Oil and Golden Oil Corp.?

"After years of speculation, the CEOs of the two largest oil companies in the country have publicly announced an impending merger. The deal will give the combined corporations over sixty percent market share of the energy sector, dominating all other competing businesses. CEOs Kim Chinhwa and Park Sungho have yet to divulge who will lead the new company, though revealed a co-CEO partnership will not be enacted."

The report continued to name other details of the merger, though Jungkook wasn't listening anymore. As soon as they showed the two CEOs, Jungkook tried searching for traces of Taehyung in the man's face. And while they were subtle, they were there. A sharp jawline, full mouth, and dark eyes. Overall, the man looked kind, with soft dimples creating craters in his cheeks as he smiled. He appeared gentle and nurturing, the loving father Taehyung once depicted.

The other man, the CEO of Golden Oil Corp., was the complete opposite in terms of disposition. His features scrunched up in hostility, his smile appearing sinister. Even the people posing near the two CEOs seemed to flinch away from him, attempting to put as much space between their bodies and the threatening man as possible. But one person remained close to the CEO's side, unaware of everyone else's aversion.

Park Bogum.

Even though Jungkook knew Taehyung had broken up with his ex-boyfriend years ago, a hot flash of jealousy warmed his insides. This guy appeared to be everything he was not: sophisticated, clean-cut, and polished. But he wore a practiced and ingenuine smile, one that didn't reach his eyes. And there was this stupid red flower tucked into the lapel of his jacket, a dyed carnation that . . .

Wait.

A dyed carnation.

A red-dyed carnation that symbolized deep love and respect.

A red-dyed carnation offered to Namjoon, a token of affection on a first date.

Shit. That's when Jungkook first met Bogum. The long-forgotten memory became clear again, and suddenly he could remember Bogum standing on their front stairs, flower in hand while waiting for Namjoon. He had been nervous, fiddling with the carnation and smiling tentatively. His cheeks had even been red with a blush.

When was that? Four years ago? Longer? To Jungkook's knowledge, that was the first and only time he ever saw Bogum. He never came around the house after that, but Namjoon spoke of him occasionally. Affectionately.

And if Jungkook recalled correctly, Bogum might have even suggested that Namjoon apply for the security job at Korean National Oil.

That moment seemed so long ago - well, it was - so it made sense as to why Jungkook didn't initially recognize Bogum at the bar. But, based on the way Bogum had smiled at him, the guy must have remembered his relation to Namjoon.

Thank god Bogum didn't approach him then. Knowing what he did now, Jungkook understood the risk Taehyung's ex-boyfriend could've introduced. If Bogum told anyone about seeing Taehyung, attackers might have tracked their location. They could have been ambushed.

And to think Jungkook only cared about tasting Taehyung's skin at the time . . .

Fuck, now his thoughts were centered on Taehyung again.

He wondered what the elder was doing. He wondered if Taehyung missed him. He wondered if he was going to be okay. He wondered if -

"Jungkook, where the fuck have you been?"

Jungkook turned around to see his father, leaning against the wall with a glass bottle in his hand. He must have been so absorbed with his thoughts that he never even heard the older man come inside.

"With friends," Jungkook answered vaguely, facing the TV once more.

His father stumbled closer, falling into his favorite armchair. He swept his hand around the room, the gesture brash and uncoordinated. "You left a mess behind. You know you're supposed to clean up your messes."

Great. It was mid-afternoon and his father was already drunk. This wasn't an entirely rare occurrence - no, sometimes after work, the man would get drinks with his buddies, lulling himself into an intoxicated stupor. And for the last few years, when it had just been Jungkook and his father in the house, it always fell on him to clean up whatever mess his father created. From shattered glasses, vomit, broken furniture . . . Jungkook had dealt with it all.

"I've been busy," he responded in a neutral tone. He really didn't feel like arguing right now.

But apparently, his father did. "Busy doing what? You're a lazy, good-for-nothing mooch who does nothing but sits in his room the entire day."

Jungkook glared at the man, his fingernails digging into his palms in an effort to keep calm. "You know why I have to lay low."

"That bastard's dead now, Kookie. Move on."

"You used to view Namjoon as your son," Jungkook seethed, his control slipping inch by inch. "What the hell is wrong with you? Do you feel anything? Do you even care that he died?"

A dark chuckle pushed past his father's lips, a sound that only emerged when he indulged in too much vodka. "Good fucking riddance. I spent too long wishing he was gone and now . . . Poof! My wish was granted!"

Jungkook didn't know what to say. His words wouldn't mean anything to his father - they'd never hit their target. Screaming and cursing at the older man would only make them both angry and on edge. And while his father wasn't known to be physically abusive when he was drunk, Jungkook never wanted to take the risk of pushing him too far.

So instead, he stood and grabbed his bag from the floor.

"Stay here, boy. I'm not done talking to you yet," his father slurred, clutching Jungkook's sweatshirt and pulling him back.

And it was then that Jungkook remembered why he subjected himself to solitude for all of those years. It was so he didn't have to deal with this. His father's inebriation could be handled; it wasn't enjoyable by any means, but it was manageable. But the part Jungkook couldn't manage was knowing that this drunk and hateful man used to be a father he loved more than anything. A man who was his entire world. But now . . .

Now all he could see when he looked at his father was a bitter, spiteful person who was incapable of loving anymore. Jungkook would be lying if he claimed it didn't hurt. It seemed that when his mother left, his father inherited all of her worst qualities in order to hold onto her memory.

"Well, well, well. Look what we have here," his father drawled, tugging Jungkook's sweatshirt down. "Back to being a little slut I see. No wonder why I haven't seen you around. You've been getting pegged by some twink."

Jungkook shoved his father's hands off of him, readjusting his clothing so the marks Taehyung left were covered. "Whatever. I don't care what you think."

His father scoffed, bringing the bottle up to his lips and chugging half of its contents. "Such a liar. You care what I think. Always have. It's so . . . Pathetic. Just like you."

Jungkook should just leave; his father wasn't worth his energy. But even still, the need to fight and release some of his anger was greater than his common sense. "Why are you like this? Why do you have to be this way?"

"I'd watch the words coming out of my mouth if I were you, boy. I put a roof above your head and pay for the food you eat. And what do you do to repay me? Nothing. So how about you be fucking grateful for once." His father tilted his head all the way back, finishing the bottle of liquor in one easy swig.

Then, maintaining eye contact with Jungkook the entire time, his father dropped the glass bottle on the floor.

And it shattered.

And because Jungkook had had enough, because he was an emotional wreck, he snapped.

But to his surprise, he didn't explode . . . He imploded.

His heart beat wildly in his chest, his head swarmed with dizziness, and his hands trembled violently. The control he had on himself was fizzling out, and he feared what would be left of him when that happened.

So he ran as fast as possible towards his bedroom, the cage that limited his dreams and constricted his future. He locked himself inside, his back pressed against the door as he fought for air. He couldn't breathe.

And everything he worked so hard to repress, every single emotion he buried deep down, erupted out from within.

Fear.

Grief.

Despair.

Yearning.

Anguish.

Fury.

Jungkook sunk to the floor, shaking as his body fought to process it all at once. But he couldn't handle it all. He couldn't manage these feelings on his own.

He needed Taehyung. Fuck, he needed him so badly. He needed him just to be here, to sit by his side so he knew he wasn't alone.

Taehyung . . . Taehyung.

"Tae," Jungkook let out, a broken sob that echoed off his quiet walls. "Tae."

And he continued to chant Taehyung's name like a prayer, hoping if he said it enough, it would bring the elder back to him. He continued to rock himself back and forth, arms wrapped protectively around his body. Continued to envision Taehyung was right next to him, calling him sweetheart and letting him know he'd be okay.

But things wouldn't be okay.

Jungkook was not okay.

Taehyung was gone.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

》 V A L E N W R I T I N G 《

This was too sad to write. I don't like having Taekook separated!

What are everyone's thoughts on Yoongi, do we have a little more trust in him now? And what about Bogum? Give me your theories!

And I haven't formally said this in a while, but I just want to thank you all once again. I know I'm a broken record, but I feel so incredibly lucky to have you all as my readers. The love and support you guys give me for something I love to do is so breathtaking. I just love you all so much and am so grateful for it all!