Taehyung woke to the dull throb of pain coursing through his body, a constant, unrelenting reminder of the night before. The soreness was almost overwhelming, making even the smallest movements a struggle. He blinked against the morning light streaming into the room, his chest tightening when his gaze landed on Jungkook.

Jungkook sat in the armchair near the bed, his dark eyes trained on Taehyung with an intensity that sent a chill down his spine. The weight of Jungkook's gaze was suffocating, as though he could see every vulnerable thought flickering in Taehyung's mind.

As soon as Jungkook noticed him stirring, he rose from his seat and crossed the room in a few swift strides. Without a word, he leaned down and scooped Taehyung up effortlessly, ignoring the weak gasp that escaped his lips.

"You're sore," Jungkook muttered, his tone unreadable as he carried Taehyung toward the bathroom. His grip was firm but not rough, though there was no gentleness in his movements either.

Taehyung didn't respond, his heart pounding too loudly in his ears. He had learned better than to argue or resist.

Jungkook set him down carefully on the edge of the tub before turning on the tap, adjusting the water until it was warm. The sound of the running water filled the silence, but it did nothing to ease the tension pressing down on Taehyung's chest.

Once the tub was ready, Jungkook helped Taehyung into the water, his touch efficient but impersonal. He didn't ask if it hurt or if it helped—he simply ensured Taehyung was settled before stepping back.

"Clean yourself," he ordered, his arms crossing over his chest as he leaned against the sink. Taehyung's cheeks flushed with humiliation, but he obeyed, his movements stiff and shaky.

When Taehyung finished, Jungkook handed him a towel and led him back to the bedroom. Taehyung expected to be left alone, but instead, Jungkook ordered breakfast.

The tray arrived moments later, carried in by one of the staff. Jungkook dismissed the worker with a sharp wave of his hand, taking the tray himself and placing it on the bedside table.

He sat down on the edge of the bed and turned to Taehyung, his expression softer than usual but no less commanding. "Eat."

Taehyung hesitated, his stomach churning with unease, but Jungkook didn't give him a choice. He picked up a spoonful of porridge and held it out to Taehyung, his gaze expectant.

"Open your mouth," Jungkook said, his voice calm but with an underlying edge of authority.

Taehyung's body trembled slightly as he parted his lips, allowing Jungkook to feed him. The warm food slid down his throat, soothing the gnawing ache in his empty stomach.

Jungkook's hand was steady as he continued to feed him, his touch surprisingly gentle. But the sharpness in his eyes never faded, a constant reminder of the man he was.

"You'll eat everything," Jungkook said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "I don't want you weak."

Taehyung nodded meekly, not daring to refuse. He forced himself to take each bite, his chest tightening with every moment Jungkook's gaze lingered on him.

When the tray was empty, Jungkook set it aside and helped Taehyung lie back down. He tucked the blanket around him with meticulous care, his movements almost tender.

But Taehyung couldn't relax. The fear was always there, lurking beneath the surface, no matter how gentle Jungkook appeared.

Jungkook brushed a strand of hair from Taehyung's face, his fingers lingering for a moment. His dark eyes softened, but there was something unsettling about the way he looked at Taehyung — possessive and unyielding.

"You'll feel better soon," Jungkook said, his voice low. "I'll make sure of it."

---

Yoongi winced as he stretched his arm, the lingering ache from their time at the mansion refusing to fade completely. He leaned against the kitchen counter, his fingers tracing the edge of his mug as he stared out the window. The physical wounds had mostly healed, but the memories still lingered, sharp and unrelenting.

"Take it easy," Bogum said, stepping into the room with a mug of tea in his hands. His own movements were cautious, the bruises on his body a stark reminder of what they had endured. "You'll tear something if you keep pushing."

Yoongi gave a small nod, but his mind was elsewhere. The mornings were quiet now, the peace almost unsettling after the chaos of the mansion.

"How's Jimin?" Bogum asked, sitting down at the table across from Yoongi.

Yoongi's expression softened slightly at the mention of his mate. "Worried," he admitted, his voice tinged with guilt. "I told him everything. He hasn't stopped checking on me since."

Bogum took a sip of his tea, his gaze distant. "At least you have someone to lean on," he said quietly. "Taehyung... he doesn't have anyone anymore."

Yoongi's grip tightened on his mug, his knuckles turning white. "We left him," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "We left him with that monster."

"We didn't have a choice," Bogum said firmly, though his own guilt was evident in his eyes. "Jungkook would've killed us if we stayed. We'll find a way to help him. We just need time."

Yoongi nodded, but his jaw clenched as he stared into his tea. Time felt like a luxury they couldn't afford.