Sleep eluded me entirely.
There I lay in the stillness of my room, the quiet enveloping me like a heavy blanket, while my gaze remained fixated on the ceiling, its familiar patterns now blurred by my racing thoughts.
It was 4 a.m., and as the world outside succumbed to the deep slumber of night, my mind was a whirlwind, consumed by thoughts of him—Jungkook.
Images of what unfolded just hours earlier spiraled through nightmares. I had been preparing to give him the injection, my hands trembling slightly, not from fear but from the intensity of the moment. His approach was unexpected; he was supposed to be the untouchable bad boy, cold and distant. Yet, in that fleeting instant, something shifted in the air between us.
I couldn't shake the memory of his gentle fingers brushing against my cheek, sending an electric surge through my body. For a moment, the fierce walls he typically held so high crumbled, and as he searched my eyes with his, I saw glimpses of vulnerability. Pain, loneliness, fear, and a sense of surrender flickered across his face, exposing the depths of his troubled soul. I will never forget how his expression metamorphosed after I dared to vocalize my feelings. "I care about you," I had said, and in response, he had dropped his guard, if only just for a moment.
But then came his haunting words, echoing in the recesses of my mind like a chilling refrain: "My brain is damaged. This is the reality. Your presence makes things worse."
What did he mean by that? The weight statement pressed heavily on my chest. How could my desire to be there for him cause him more discomfort? I was desperate to understand how his pain intertwined with my existence.
The truth behind the rumors lingered like a specter; I needed to uncover if he had indeed killed his family in cold blood.
As I closed my eyes, I was swept back to that moment when he had suddenly enveloped me in a tight embrace, catching me completely off guard. I couldn't see his face, shrouded in shadows, yet the warmth radiating from him was undeniable. For a fraction of a heartbeat, I felt a jolt of fear—what if he hurt me? But that fear dissipated quickly, revealing the gentleness in his touch. He was warm, surprisingly so, and at that moment, I realized there was a softness beneath the hardened exterior he wore like armor.
I ached to do something for him, to rescue him from that dark and frightening place. He was confined there for a terrible act, something only a monster would commit. Yet, despite that, every part of me insisted that he was kind—that he had a good heart and deserved a chance. His gentle side wouldn't let me close my eyes and ignore it. It was all so perplexing. Why was he so complicated?
Why did I feel this strange attraction to the sweet boy lurking beneath Jungkook's troubled surface? My senses were overwhelmed; he was affecting me deeply, making even the simplest things feel complex. It was as if my sanity was slipping away, inch by inch, whenever he was near.
The memory of him with Naeun haunted me, a ghost that lingered just out of sight. My mind seemed to play tricks on making illusions and moments into my thoughts. The more time I spent with Jungkook, the more distracted I became. I felt a connection growing, an inexplicable bond that pulled me into his world. All because of him, I was forced to remind him, battling against his relentless nightmares constantly.
The thought of him crying alone in a cold, dark corner filled me with profound sadness, and I knew I couldn't bear that image lingering in my mind. I longed to be the light in his shadowed existence, who could reach through his darkness and bring him solace. The complexity of this situation felt unbearable, yet I couldn't turn away from the reality that I had already begun to care for him deeply.
What nightmares haunted him, swirling around in the dark corners of his mind? Could it be that he was being pulled back to that horrific night—the night when his family was torn away from him? It felt as if he was reliving the trauma over and over again, trapped in a relentless cycle of anguish. The thought sent shivers down my spine. But what about his desperate pleas for me to help him escape this torment? Who exactly was he referring to in those moments of raw vulnerability? Was it the fractured part of himself that he feared—the terrifying, shadowy figure that lurked beneath the surface? This unknown side of him seemed to hold all the darkness, the whispers of despair that echoed through the silence, and I wondered if it was that part that was crying out for release.
***
"Are you ready to take a shower?" Naeun asked, her voice cheerful as she swung open the heavy door.
Jungkook was perched on the edge of his bed, the fabric of the thin mattress slightly creased under his weight. He lifted his gaze, his expression unreadable, as Naeun entered the cramped space with a grinning Taehyung. The stark walls of the cell closed in around him, amplifying the feeling of confinement.
Without uttering a single word, Jungkook rose to his feet. He felt a mixture of anticipation and reluctance wash over him. The prospect of a shower was a rare luxury in his life—an opportunity to wash away the day's physical and mental grime. As he stepped closer to them, he could already envision the warm water cascading down, providing a brief escape from the oppressive atmosphere.
However, that brief escape was regulated by strict rules. He only had access to a shower three days a week, and today was one of those days. The thought lingered in the back of his mind, reminding him of the limitations he had to live with. He inhaled deeply, preparing himself to embrace the fleeting moment of comfort that awaited him, even if it was just for a short while.
Naeun's heart swelled with joy when Jungkook halted in front of her. She could hardly contain her happiness as he stood there, framed by the afternoon sunlight. It was a rare occasion for her to be close to him, and even though her thoughts often drifted to the Jungkook of her dreams, the sight of this Jungkook's striking features brought a smile to her lips. His tousled hair caught the light perfectly, accentuating the sharp lines of his jaw and the intensity of his dark, expressive eyes.
However, Jungkook's expression was far from warm. His mouth twisted in annoyance, and his deep-set brows furrowed in irritation. He had nothing against Naeun; she seemed a genuinely nice girl, perhaps a little naive. But the way she was studying him—those wide, eager eyes roaming each passing moment over every detail—filled him with unease, almost disgust. It felt intrusive, and he was all too aware of the whispers that surrounded him, perpetuated by the other prisoners. Their mocking tones and exaggerated whistles reminded him of the unwanted attention he garnered. Each time they saw him, they would shout praises, their voices dripping with sarcasm, as they jeered about how good he was at inciting shrieks and gasps from the girls.
And now it was happening again. The laughter that filled the air was grating on his nerves, sharp and mocking.
"Way to go, Jungkook! It looks like this little one is something special," one of the prisoners teased, smirking as he gestured towards Naeun. "She was practically screaming your name! How was it, sweetie? Did it fit?"
The boys cackled their taunts, cutting for a fleeting moment in a cheerful atmosphere like a knife. Naeun felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment, warmth spreading across her skin as if she were on fire. The humiliation washed over her like a tidal wave, making her want to shrink back into herself, to find a hole deep enough to hide away from all the attention.
Jungkook pressed his lips together tightly, a nervous habit he couldn't shake. The revelation of Naeun's connection with a version of himself that he didn't recognize sent a surge of anger coursing through him. He cast a frigid glance toward her, his dark eyes smoldering with betrayal and fury. "Bitch," he uttered, his voice low and venomous, before turning his gaze straight ahead, refusing to look back at the girl who had ignited this maelstrom of emotions within him.
Naeun felt a wave of despair washes over her, the weight of Jungkook's words cutting deep. Her heart clenched painfully in her chest; tears threatened to spill from her eyes, but she fought to hold them back. Nearby, Taehyung stood with a smirk plastered across his face, clearly amused by the unfolding tension. He bit down on his lip, trying to suppress a laugh at the dramatic scene before him.
As Jungkook and Taehyung stepped into the bathroom, the door shut softly, leaving Naeun alone and vulnerable in the hallway.
Inside the bathroom, Jungkook sighed, a mix of irritation and resignation. "So, will you just be staying here and watching me?" he mumbled, the sound muffled slightly as he peeled off his shirt, revealing the defined muscles underneath.
"You have a problem with that?" Taehyung shot back, a teasing grin creeping on his face as he leaned against the wall, arms crossed. Jungkook rolled his eyes, a gesture of boredom mingled with frustration, as he unzipped his pants, both aware and indifferent to how Taehyung's gaze lingered on him.
Jungkook could feel Taehyung's piercing stare, a burden he had grown accustomed to. Evidently, there was an underlying animosity aimed at him, but Jungkook was at a loss for the reason. They had barely exchanged words, yet the palpable animosity hung between them like a thick fog.
"Maybe because I am a monster?" he pondered, the thought spiraling through his mind like a haunting refrain. It wouldn't be the first time he had been labeled as such. People often cast sideways glances at him, filled with judgment and disdain. He could not argue against it; he usually felt he deserved that scorn.
The familiar heaviness settled in his chest with each passing moment, an unbearable sensation that clawed at him relentlessly. The urge to escape—to flee from the crippling emotions that threatened to drown him—surged within him once more. He gasped quietly, struggling for breath as a sharp pain constricted around his heart, making it hard to think clearly. In that fleeting moment, it felt like the walls were closing in, and he was powerless to stop the turmoil inside him.
Then, taking Jungkook by surprise, Taehyung suddenly grabbed the younger by his neck and pushed him against the cold wall.
"Listen here, you freak. I don't know what the fuck lays in that sick and vicious mind of yours, but you will stop approaching Y/N. Do you fucking understand? Because I swear that I will cut your neck and make everyone believe that you did it yourself."
Jungkook's body went rigid for a fleeting moment, and he was caught in a web of emotions that spiraled within him. The weight of those words enveloped him, resonating deeper than he would ever allow himself to reveal. But instead of expressing the turmoil inside, he managed to force a smile—an instinctive reaction to the sound of your name, which sparked a warmth in his chest, momentarily illuminating the shadows around him.
Yet, in an instant, the world faded to black. A heavy veil descended over his senses, and he realized that he was teetering on the brink of losing consciousness. Helplessness washed over him; a familiar sensation gnawed at his insides—the acute awareness of having no control over himself, the presence of powerlessness that he detested.
Taehyung's demeanor shifted sharply as his eyes narrowed into a fierce glare, fixated on Jungkook, whose laughter echoed through the room. The sound was light and mocking, with a mischievous undertone that further ignited Taehyung's irritation. Each chuckle seemed to bounce off the walls, its carefree nature starkly contrasting the electric tension crackling between them.
Before Taehyung could formulate a sharp retort to voice his growing annoyance, Jungkook moved surprisingly. In a flash, he lunged forward, a playful yet fierce glint in his eyes, and landed a swift punch directly to Taehyung's abdomen. The impact knocked the breath from Taehyung's lungs, and he crumpled to the ground, a mix of shock and indignation washing over him.
Jungkook swiftly climbed onto Taehyung's middle without missing a beat, pinning him to the ground.
"Did you forget with who the fuck you are talking to?
If so, then I will make you remember." Jungkook smiled wider, baring his white teeth. He leaned his face closer to Taehyung's, who was groaning in pain.
"Who is the dangerous one between the two of us?
Who is the one handcuffed land living in a cage?"
Jungkook asked as he pulled out a knife from the back of his pants before placing it against Taehyung's neck.
Taehyung's eyes widened in fear at the sight of the black knife in Jungkook's hand.
"Oh, this? " Jungkook let out a short laugh. "If I am stuck in a damn cell, that doesn't mean that I can't get my hands on what I need. After all... I am fucking around." Jungkook smirked before stabbing Taehyung in the stomach.
"This is for daring to pronounce my baby's name, you rat."