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Warning: Gore, description of murder and triggering past.

Yoongi Pov:

I was devastated, my senses were loose. I couldn't help but conk out knowing well enough that a warrior doesn't cry, but how can I not be depressed?

I heard trudging noises nearby as someone sitting near me. I supposed it was Hobi and laid my head on the person, still shedding tears.

Cry till you can't anymore, my mind screamed as I was vexed, coughing. A hand offered me a cloth that I obtained and sneezed on it.

If I was queasy, would she have taken care of me?

Only if she was alive... It has been 23 long years, how does she look like? I never realized. I didn't want to, in shame and remorse.

"Hoba..." I called as I sneezed on the kerchief again.

"It pangs, it breaks... Hoba, how stupid of me. I feel drowsy Hoba, I can't handle this anymore Hoba, Can I just put an end to myself?"

"It FUCKING stings Hoba when your guilt is profound and reminisces often," I groaned,

"I can't hold it anymore. How will I see her face? What will I tell mom? Do you know? Does mom know?" I whimpered as I damped my clad. I sobbed, tilting and endorsing myself on my folded knees, I let my tears wreck.

"What does she enjoy? I don't know, sugar? Sour? Spicy?... No idea."

"What does she like? Books? Flowers? Knives? No idea."

"I fucking know nothing about my sister, Hobi! And now I can never figure it out."

"After mom left me in the streets, I was told that she is the only family of mine. She was 3 years old and when I got her back, she was already a carcass, whose scarred face, I could barely acknowledge.

"Did you see my bud? Her face looked pale and aloof. Agonizing blemishes embellished her face, with blood gushing out from... I couldn't see her anymore from her neck, with flies and insects flying over her body, her tender muscles bruised out of her neck.

"Alas! What a pitiful life I have, I had to analyze her murder. I had to look at her to discover how she passed away.

"Those bastards used a fishing string to gag her... torturing her son, before her own eyes. They took chances tossing knives at her, slamming her soft limbs and abdomen, and cutting her neck like a carnivore. How did she abide by all of these? If only I was with her at that time."

"Yoongi," I heard mild feminine whispers, my heavy heart denied looking at her to know that it was the Queen. I was embarrassed but hugely disappointed when I learned that it was Her Majesty. I no longer wished to stay either. As I stood up to leave, she called, "Min Yoongi."

I turned to her side.

"Yoongi," She called again and embraced me for a brief while and inquired.

"Who did this?" she whispered as she fondled my tears. She reminded me of my mom. My lips quivered as I felt loneliness clothing me, my mom used to hug and reassure me whenever I cried. But she left me and I can't accept that I am alone in this whole world.

"Who?" she asked as I twirled my hands into a fist.

"Kim Namjoon. If only he had taken good care of my sister, she wouldn't have met such a brutal end," I said, seething. I shake my head as my sweaty hair falls upon my face.

Drawing my hair to the side, she consoled, "Leave. Take some rest Yoongi, I will tell Jimin."

I was surprised when she supported me, but I won't oblige to heed her until I bleed Namjoon to death. I determined, bowed, and left.

Myrah Pov:

Namjoon? Son? What does he mean!? Oh my god! What did I do?

Shit! That's unexpected.

Closing the door, I withdrew the scroll from my satchel that Hyunjin gave me yesterday morning.

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Kim Namjoon wedded his wife 7 years back, his wife is the sister of Yoongi. All other facts were completely erased by Namjoon, Your Majesty.

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Yoongi knows about Namjoon remarrying, whether it transpires or not, Yoongi will not let go of this. This is a good chance to acquire his conviction. But something inside me wailed in the silence, Yoongi's pain influenced me as undesired drops of tears fell upon my face. I was contradicted and triggered. How shall I cure this ingrown pain?

Only if Tae was with me to tend to my aching heart. I walked towards the open window, the chill wind carried the green leaves along. As a bird jerked its wing, shaking the branch, the pink cherry blossom joined the wind, making me all nostalgic,

Why do I feel desolate? I shouldn't. Self-company is the best company, but why do these pink petals remind me of several things? Who is there for me? Jungkook? Taehyung? Jimin? Haha, don't be amused, I told myself.

That's when the wooden doors opened up to Jimin, who came in sequentially while I stayed still. Immersed in thoughts, within my concerns as his hands sneaked around my waist, he placed his chin on my shoulder and a tear spilled down my cheeks. What is happening to me? I pondered.

I leaned onto his body, taking a shrilly breath, I inaudibly begged for help. I felt trapped and suffocated, unable to feed my fears and misery.

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