chapter forty-one ;; lost boy
third person
°☆.。.:*・°☆

Taehyung woke up with a powerful headache. It drew the moisture out of his mouth and spread faint purple under his puffed eyes, and he finally shuffled slightly, bed creaking with every slight movement.

The younger boy's thin arm is loosely wrapped around Taehyung's waist, an act that seems to give a deep sort of comfort, but it's easily removed as if it was never there in the first place. The brunette confesses he feels a lot less supported once it's gone and the warmth with it fades.

He wants to put so much trust into Jungkook, but it's sadly a rather hard task, to trust someone that's never chosen in your favor. Too many times the younger has promised he'd never leave the elder only to collapse when things become too hard.

And today may be the most difficult of them all. Both of them know it- they really do. The stress resonates in Jungkook's mind, and he lets such emotions control his actions and aura. For Taehyung, stress resonates in his bones and limbs, so he's the one controlling the stress.

Unfortunately, stress seems to be taking over the elder this time. It's scary and different and something he's not used to. The male's almost too frightened to move when 'waking up'. Not that he ever actually fell asleep in the first place. Relaxing his body was difficult when a paler's breath was casting along his neck-- a reminder of what he might be losing again. You think he'd be used it it by now, the slap and the punch, push and pull.

But he's not, because he's just too damn weak at this point, holding on so desperately and blindly, as if he'll die if he lets go. The statement isn't too off from what would happen metaphorically. And that's when Taehyung remembers he always pursues any type of reassurance from years of setbacks.

"You love me, right?" The brunette doesn't even know if Jungkook's awake. He hasn't looked over yet to stare at either sleepy doe brown eyes or fluttered eyelashes and a puffy lip. Maybe he's too scared to look.

"Hm," He is awake, are Taehyung's first thoughts.

"You love me, right?" A deep morning voice amplifies.

"Of course I do, Tae." Jungkook mumbles whilst blinking off some morning that sticks to his waterline.

"I want- I wanna hear you say it." The elder feels so pathetic. He feels the pride and usual manly persona leaving him as if it's a spirit, and he's a now vacant host. Taehyung hates and despises this sensation, the idea of being vulnerable and weak once more.

Jungkook lifts himself up haphazardly, still caught up in the mix of sleep wrapping its thin, wispy fingers across his worked up brain, and the two males stare at one another; it's a dead on type of connection, no falter or any movements of glancing towards other facial features in order to break up such an intimate move. Brown eyes clash against one another in a graceful sort of matter, and at this point, Taehyung doesn't really need to hear the words anymore. This eases him enough.

"I love you, Taehyung." Jungkook confirms, says it in the most truthful way possible, vowels pure and gently curved with the edges of his dry lips.

There's a soft upwards twitch to the elder's two strips of faded pink, a nice contrast against fear from before, something soft. Such a slight shift matches the silken sunlight basking in Taehyung's tanner shade of skin. Beauty coats his somewhat relaxed features, yet the younger male can still sense that hesitation within a slight dullness dancing through warm autumn eyes.

But Jungkook takes all he can and holds on so securely for the sake of his own sanity, knowing that none of it's going to be quite relaxed for much longer, understanding the aggression soon to spill out of both their mouths in an attempt to keep what's their's.

Jungkook understands all of when getting dressed, skipping breakfast and coffee from being too nauseous to even stand for a moment, going straight towards grabbing his winter coat and walking out with Taehyung right at his side. Everything's admittedly slow in a stalling state, stopping at stoplights which have just turned yellow, looking both ways too many times before continuing onwards down rather empty roads.

The world seems to clear up, a clean slate. A smooth surface begs for a sturdy and promising foundation.

----

His leg shakes incessantly against the hardwood floor of Yoongi and Jungkook's home, surrounded by shouts of anger and frustration. There's an elder blonde standing in the corner silently, back against the wall and face expressionless. Then there's the younger blonde, the one getting verbal punches from his father and his fiance's parents, simply standing there like a five year old with his lower lip about to bleed from biting so harshly.

He blocks out the sounds for now, focusses in on the drowning reality. It wraps around his eyes and ears with fat fingers at every raise of a voice and every jabbing remark towards him. His face is as slack as the elder blonde's but much, much sadder, pitiful and wallowing, hiding behind green bangs like tree branches during a picnic on a beautiful spring day.

He's not really sure how he got here. One minute he was cuddling up to a gorgeous body that belongs to him, breathing in every scent of human contact and basking in the love-drunken atmosphere like he was taking shots on a late Saturday night.

Now the twenty-five year old is here, in a hectic and large house filled in the sense of sound. The Min's and Jeon's bite at Jungkook like he's prey, cut through him with a butcher's knife and leaving him dry. He's being diced into absolute nothingness, wailing so many sorry's in a bulimic type of way that strips the green-banged boy of any sort of burning passion and hope.

His mouth is dry, dry as it'll ever be. Dryer than the desert, at this point, zoning in on Jungkook's shaking shoulders and terrified face, large hands of his father's gripping onto his shoulders, talking firmly about how utterly humiliating this whole situation is, the Min's.

Muffled sounds play out when tired eyes glance over at Yoongi, something trapped behind the male's stationary mouth. Words form globs of droplets at the tip of his tongue in slick oil, but they don't fall, they stay at the very end in circular form yet don't budge. He wants them to budge, the one with the green bangs. He wants the elder blonde to speak and never stop, say everything until he's juiced out and then some.

His leg's pace increases as time gets heavier and taller. He's queasy from watching the youngest plea for forgiveness, grimaces at how he promises to never betray them again. Situations can change so fast. Emotions can have the lifespan of fruit flies. Hours spent in privacy and intimacy- not just sexual contact but intimate as in close and knowing and careful are thrown out the door in desperation.

He likes to believe the muffled words being heard now mean nothing, likes to believe that Jungkook will walk out of here a free boy with a new outlook on life. Again, it's just believing. Believing rarely gets you anywhere.

"You heard me loud and clear on that phonecall, boy!" Mr. Jeon bellows in absolute frustration, his handsome face draped in fine lines.

Ah, yes, a phone call brought this on. A phone call wrapped its fingers around the love-drunk atmosphere from late last night and strangled it, tightening till the chilling snap of a neck and spinal chord. He remembers it now, the way Jungkook's face dropped, the way he had to strip himself from Taehyung, how the next morning, he was speed walking towards the Impala with a weak, "Drive me to Yoongi's."' before getting into the car and remaining silent from there on.

Kim Taehyung felt like complete shit then and there. Why, you may ask: He saw the end coming up full speed, and the breaks in his car suddenly stopped working.

"I'm sorry!" Jungkook spits out for the nth time, staring at the four elders in such fear.

"For the millionth time, you spoiled brat, saying sorry isn't going to fix your mistakes!" Mr. Jeon finally snaps in, "You went behind all of our backs, and you messed around with this man." He speaks slow and firm, intimidating thing with such an animalistic burning fire in his eyes. Jungkook absolutely cowers down, "You spoiled our whole entire plan, and even though it's been desperately brought to your attention multiple times, you just can't seem to calm yourself down! All of us really don't know what's gotten into you. You were never like this as a teenager. You used to be all well behaved, but because of this awful figure in your life, you've been wrecked!"

"T-Taehyung isn't awful." Jungkook dully responds, puffy eyes rounding.

"He's the one that got Yoongi into drugs, the exact reason why he had to go through painstakingly slow months and years in rehab." Mr. Min then cuts in like a blade, words sharpened and at a point. That comment really draws the silent twenty-five year old, remembering the day he was shunned by Yoongi's entire family.

"Yoongi had an affair with his dad!" Jungkook shouts right back, hands flying up in the air and anger flared. The veins in his arms protrude when his hands ball up, causing Taehyung to stare a little harder.

"Because he was jacked up on everything under the sun at that point!" Mr. Min adds, bringing his attention towards Taehyung's remaining hunched figure. He stares daggers at the younger boy, tears him apart when remembering how Yoongi went through those traumatizing times of addiction. His powerful legs then storm over to the sofa, stiff arm stretched out as a hand filled in veins grabs a shaking hold of Taehyung's shoulder. The twenty-five year old doesn't protest and allows himself to be pushed back so he's sitting up straighter, "You are the one who brought the filth into his life. You are the one that caused your life to fall apart." Mr. Min's voice is barely above a whisper now, the whole room silent whilst Taehyung stares the elder male dead in the eye, face rounded out and lips parted within conviction.

"Yoongi never had to say yes. I-" Taehyung tries his best to remain calm and put together, yet it's hard when staring one of the people you fear most dead in the eye.

"Bullshit," Mr. Min screams in the younger's now scrunched face, tightening his grip and yanking with an unbelievable force. Taehyung's instantly thrown out off of the sofa and onto his front, scrambling to get up immediately. It's an easy task, except the hands of two men take ahold of both shoulders.

"Let go of him." Jungkook whispers. His thin arms try to reach out in order to grab Taehyung for both of their own sake, but it's instantly slapped away by Mrs. Min.

"Jeon Jungkook," she begins, drawing the youngest's attention towards her. His chest heaves in anxiety and the weight of absolutely everything, the way Taehyung's body is slightly pushed forward, as if he's about to receive handcuffs for the wrong he's committed, "you will let Taehyung be taken out the door, and you will not protest. You will stay here with Yoongi and continue on with the marriage. Is that understood?" She brings up a thin index finger and stabs the center of his chest.

Jungkook can barely hear her ice tone over the sound of Taehyung's heavy breathing, watching pathetically whilst the brunette tries to fight against the two strengths only to be set back into his place with harsh forces used within no consideration of being careful to not harm, "I-It's best...for the company." Absolute bullets for words, Jungkook's mouth being the gun that's always been loaded yet finally taken off of safety lock.

"Take him out of here." Mrs. Jeon unsurely state from behind Mrs. Min, looking over at Taehyung's still struggling form, "He's too much of a distraction for Jungkook."

Taehyung bites his tongue to keep from saying things- the nastiest things. He wants to scream at all of them for being pathetic business owners, for forgetting what a heart is. The male wants to shout at the top of his longs on how these four adults have forgotten what it's like to experience freshened love and affection, becoming cold and inhuman through the greed of power and abandoning raw passions.

Without protest, Taehyung's pulled down the hallway by Mr. Jeon, Mr. Min walking over towards Jungkook so the young boy doesn't chase them down the hallway.

Yet Jungkook simply stands there as Mr. Jeon has a tight grip on Taehyung's denim jacket, material crinkled and mangled with force. He simply stands there with Mr. Min's hand on his shoulder, because this is best for the company. He's so hopeless, the dirty blonde boy. His senses are dulled and numbed and so beyond repair, and all he does is stare, like some deer caught in headlights.

It's the way Taehyung's slumped figure looks while being dragged down the hallway, and the elder's green bangs only appear with softened brown eyes once meeting half way down. Doc Martens softly squeak against the hardwood floors through it all, and there's so much enlaced in the artist's eyes: a wish to start over again, that small sense of hope he had for all to go well sizzling out with each passing second.

Taehyung doesn't fight against the restraint either, because no matter how much his body and brain aches to have Jungkook as his own, he won't fight unless he's wanted back. That burning flame from the morning dies down more and more within the strangling silence, and it's all because the twenty-one year old is a lost boy, easily manipulated and put in his place. The younger can't even recall a time where he's stood up for what he wants.

And then the front door is being yanked open, Taehyung sending one last look over his shoulder towards Jungkook, saying 'Goodbye, I despise that I'll never be able to see your eyes and hear your voice again.'.

----

*intense dolphin noises as i get sTrAngLeD*

THIS AINT THE END YET!!!

lmao, i'll hopefully update again hella soon OPEOPEOPE. if u kno me, u kno i like to give scares.

ps: it's aLREADY 5AM SKDOODO I DIDNT THINK THE JET LAG FROM LA WOULD BE THIS BAD??? LIKE MY BRAIN STILL THINKS IT'S ONLY 2 UHMMM-