Mingyu found you lying motionless on the cold office floor, the faint light flickering above and casting shadows over your face. An overwhelming wave of concern washed over him as he rushed to your side, heart pounding in his chest.
Earlier, you had been distracted, and in that moment of vulnerability, Jungkook had managed to slip his hand into your purse. It happened so quickly and effortlessly that you had been entirely unaware of his intentions. When you briefly turned to adjust the medical equipment nearby, he seized the opportunity to steal one of the small, ominous injections you had brought.
Although you might have had a theoretical understanding of the effects those injections could produce, it was only when it was injected to you, you truly grasped their chaotic potential.
Jungkook had waited, biding his time until he saw his opening for escape. The doctor's office had been a temporary prison for him with its sterile white walls and clinical air. As he surveyed the room, he found the window—unguarded and easily accessible, leading directly to the bustling street below. It was a swift decision; he had to seize his chance and jump, leaving behind the tangled webs of deceit he had spun.
As you slowly came to your senses, your heart twisted painfully in your chest. Slowly, the reality of his betrayal sank in like sharp shards of glass. Tears welled up in your eyes, spilling over as you grasped the truth behind his actions—you felt utterly shattered.
He had utilized your trust, manipulated your vulnerability, and left you feeling exposed and betrayed. You had once believed that there was a genuine connection between you two, a bond that could withstand the strain of deceit. But that illusion had crumbled, leaving only a haunting emptiness. The boy you thought you understood, the one you believed harbored a gentle heart beneath his bad-boy exterior, had proven himself to be the very source of your pain. Not the playboy as you expected.
Mingyu, with concern etched across his features, gently took your frail form into his arms, cradling you like a fragile doll. He settled you onto the soft couch, his touch careful and reassuring, as his blue eyes reflected sorrow for the turmoil you were experiencing. He could see how deeply shaken and emotionally torn you were at that moment, and it tore at his heart to witness your distress. The room was still, the air heavy with the weight of your shared disappointment, and Mingyu vowed silently to help you heal from this betrayal.
You had always wanted to help him, to be the light that guided him back from the darkness. The decision to release him was not one you regretted; in fact, every time you saw him in that anguished state—handcuffed, lost to the world—the sight gnawed at your heart. You could no longer bear witnessing his suffering, trapped in a cycle of despair. You envisioned taking him away from that hell, nurturing him back to a semblance of normalcy in your way.
But the way he pushed you against the cold wall. The way he stuck that syringe into your neck without any hesitation. The way his cold, empty eyes were looking back at you. You won't forget. It hurt too much.
His final words echoed in your ears, each syllable heavy with emotion. They wrapped around your heart like a vise, tightening painfully with each breath. You tried to wipe away the tears that streamed down your cheeks, using your trembling hands in a futile attempt to regain control. But for every tear you brushed away, another would cascade down, as if your sorrow were an unending river.
"I will never trust someone like you. Such a stupid and weak little girl."
"Fuck you."
Mingyu caressed your head gently, his fingers weaving into your hair with a tenderness that spoke volumes of his turbulent emotions. It was a momentary comfort before a storm, for he was acutely aware of the risks ahead. Leaving you alone with Jungkook, he understood the gamble he was taking; he placed his trust in your untapped compassion for the boy.
Mingyu was no fool—he saw straight through your façade. Deep down, he knew it wouldn't be long before you would feel compelled to help Jungkook escape from the confines of his grim reality. Why did he take such a dangerous chance? The answer lay in the futility of his attempts to reach Jungkook's mind through his hypnotic techniques. Jungkook was a shattered soul.
Jungkook's mind felt like a battlefield, divided sharply into two opposing forces. The inner conflict he experienced was represented by a chasm deep within his consciousness, a void that echoed with memories and emotions. Within that abyss lurked a darker aspect of himself, continuously evading his grasp, slipping through his fingers just when he thought he could catch it. This elusive side of him had been toying with his sanity ever since the day it first emerged.
Mingyu was entirely unaware of the turmoil that churned within Jungkook. He couldn't fathom the depth of Jungkook's suffering or the weight of the past that seemed to haunt him relentlessly. The specter of the heinous crime—his family's murder—loomed over Jungkook like a shadow, but what indeed plagued him were the haunting memories of his father's abuse. It felt like those moments were seared into his memory, vivid and raw, replaying like a broken record.
Perhaps this relentless torment was the reason for the nightmares that plagued Jungkook's sleep, as Mingyu had suggested. Jungkook often awoke in cold sweats, heart racing, his mind racing back to the darkness he couldn't fully remember but knew was there. Each fragmented thought was a reminder of the pain and trauma, keeping him perpetually ensnared in a cycle of fear and anger, desperately trying to piece together the truth of his shattered past.
Mingyu felt the weight of despair pressing down on him, rendering him helpless. The thought of injecting Jungkook with the new serum churned in his mind, but the risks were too significant. If something went awry, it could exacerbate the existing damage to Jungkook's brain, possibly beyond any hope of recovery. Mingyu couldn't bear the thought of retaking that kind of chance.
This facility was a nightmare for someone like Jungkook. Mingyu had exhausted every avenue he could think of—he had reached out to Jin, the authorities, medical professionals, and anyone else who might have a say in Jungkook's treatment and living conditions. Yet, to his dismay, every plea was brushed aside. People looked the other way, indifferent to the plight of a boy trapped in a system that seemed to care more about punishment than healing. Mingyu's heart ached at the realization that this oppressive prison was not a solution but a cage.
Reflecting on Jungkook's past only deepened Mingyu's anguish. He remembered the day they brought the boy in, just a child, yet labeled a danger to society. It twisted his stomach to think of the circumstances that led to his confinement. There had been a tragic incident involving Jungkook and a knife, a bloodied scene that indeed painted him in the darkest light. But what the authorities had deemed monstrous was the action of a child who hadn't fully grasped the weight of his actions. Jungkook had been drugged and brought in, not as a victim, but as a criminal.
Mingyu's mind raced with thoughts of the abuse Jungkook suffered in those early days—beaten, isolated, and stripped of his dignity. It was unfathomable that even if he had, in some twisted reality, harmed his family, Jungkook had been rendered unconscious to the horror of what had occurred. He was not a monster; he was a child who had lost everything and was now being punished, not rehabilitated. Mingyu clenched his fists in frustration, knowing what was being done to Jungkook was wrong.
For six long years, the doctors and specialists labored tirelessly, striving to uncover the underlying issues plaguing Jungkook. They conducted countless tests, meticulously analyzing every detail of his condition in hopes of finding a breakthrough. Each month brought new prescriptions and medications, an array of pills and drugs designed to alleviate his suffering, yet none seemed to have the desired effect.
With every passing year, Jungkook's situation only grew more dire, his health deteriorating under the weight of his afflictions. It became painfully clear to Mingyu that the environment surrounding Jungkook was not helping matters either; instead of providing support, the people in his life often added to his distress.
Mingyu sincerely believed that Jungkook needed much more than medical intervention. He yearned for a companion who could genuinely understand his struggles—a person with abundant patience and compassion. This figure would need to offer emotional support and a sense of stability in Jungkook's tumultuous life, someone capable of fostering a nurturing atmosphere where healing could begin.
Someone who wouldn't become obsessed to fuck him first. Like it happened each time.
From the first moment, Mingyu laid eyes on you, an undeniable connection sparked within him. He felt an instinctive pull as if you were the person he had been searching for—a confidant with a resilient spirit and unwavering reliability. Your strong mentality captivated and intrigued him, so he took the significant step of entrusting you with Jungkook's well-being. Mingyu, who knew Jungkook's struggles all too well, held onto the hope that the bond you would develop with his nephew could flourish into something beautiful. He believed love could heal, illuminate even the darkest corners of the soul, and inspire courage in the face of overwhelming adversity.
However, the situation worsened, spiraling in a direction Mingyu had never anticipated. Jungkook's desperate bid for freedom culminated in a shocking escape, but what troubled Mingyu the most was that Jungkook had chosen not to take you with him. A wave of confusion and concern washed over Mingyu as he pondered the implications of this choice.
Why had he used you as a stepping stone in his plans? The truth was painfully clear. Mingyu could not orchestrate Jungkook's escape on his own; there were eyes everywhere, and any sign of interference would have put everyone involved in grave danger. The risk of discovery loomed large, and Mingyu couldn't allow anyone to connect the dots to his motive, especially since Jungkook was not just another young man trapped in a web of darkness—he was Mingyu's nephew.
The shadow of betrayal loomed heavily in Mingyu's heart as he grappled with the painful legacy left by his brother. How could he ever forgive the man who had so carelessly harmed his son? More agonizingly, how could he ever forgive himself for failing to be there for Jungkook at the most critical moments? The weight of regret pressed down on him, intertwining with the guilt of witnessing Jungkook's struggle from the sidelines, feeling powerless to intervene when it mattered most. The bond that he had hoped would heal was now clouded by heartbreak, and the haunting truths of family loyalty and betrayal.
***
After the serum that Jungkook injected into your bloodstream gradually diminished its effect, you felt the warmth returning to your legs, allowing you to stand and walk unaided once more. With a heavy heart and exhausted mind, you made your way out of the cold, gray prison that had held you captive for who knows how long. The walls echoed with memories you wished to erase, and with each step towards freedom, a weight lifted ever so slightly from your shoulders.
Upon arriving home, your sanctuary, you were met with the familiar sights that felt oddly foreign after your harrowing experience. The silence enveloped you like a thick fog, amplifying the chaotic thoughts swirling in your mind. The events of that day replayed in a relentless loop, too much to process, leaving you mentally drained and on the brink of breaking down.
All you wanted—no, needed—was to escape the turmoil in your head, to silence the noise that lingered, especially regarding him. The thought of Jungkook, where he might be in the biting cold of the night, gnawed at your mind like a restless ghost. The chill outside was nothing compared to the haunting memories that gripped your heart, and as your eyes grew heavy, you longed for the solace of sleep to offer you a reprieve from everything you couldn't forget.
***
It was the deep of night, around 2 in the morning, when Jungkook found himself seated on a cold, weathered bench nestled in a dark alley. He leaned his head back against the course material of the bench, his eyes fluttering closed as weariness washed over him. The chill in the air seeped through the thin fabric of his shirt and sweatpants, striking him like a bolt of lightning. He had almost forgotten the biting sensation of the outdoors.
With a hesitant lift of his eyelids, Jungkook gazed up at the obscured sky, dark and vast above him. Thoughts flickered through his mind like the distant stars—was it autumn? Or perhaps spring? He couldn't quite place the season, and it sent a shiver down his spine. Maybe it was spring, he speculated, hoping for brighter days ahead.
Suddenly, a voice broke through the silence. "Hey, are you okay? Need some help or anything?"
Startled, Jungkook jerked his head up, his heart racing. However, a wave of relief washed over him as he noticed an elderly woman approaching, her face framed by the wide brim of a floppy hat. She wore a warm smile that radiated kindness, despite the shadows of the alley lurking around them. In her arms, she cradled a small dog that seemed to bark incessantly, its sharp yaps cutting through the quiet.
All he cpukd think righ then was how to silence the dog. He wanted to kill it.
He shook his head in response, a small, reluctant smile settling on his lips as he watched the woman continue on her way towards a nearby building, presumably her home.
Once more alone, Jungkook exhaled a heavy sigh and lay back on the bench. As his eyes fluttered shut, thoughts of you flooded his mind, stirring a confusing mix of emotions within him.
"I will never trust someone like you. Such a stupid and weak little girl. Fuck you!"
It wasn't quite what he felt, though. He had never entertained the idea of viewing you in that way. For a brief moment, an intense wave of hatred surged within him, and it was undeniable.
When he woke up in the sterile brightness of the hospital room, disoriented and vulnerable, he found himself enveloped in your arms. Panic flooded his senses. The warmth of your embrace was confusing, a juxtaposition to the turmoil roiling inside him. He couldn't comprehend why his body reacted with such visceral disgust and fear. It was as if his own flesh betrayed him, responding in a way that contradicted his deeper understanding of you. He knew, somewhere beneath the chaos, that you had no intention of harming him. Yet, in that moment, when you finally released him from your hold and gave him space, an instinctive terror gripped him anew.
The urge to flee overwhelmed him. He longed to escape, to distance himself from everyone around him, just as he had yearned to do for so long. It had been six years since he had found himself in such a position, and now, with a fleeting chance to break free, he was paralyzed. He didn't know how to react, and so his body instinctively took charge, operating on some primal defense mechanism. Desperate and scared, he lashed out, causing you pain—a regret that clawed at his insides. The singular thought racing through his mind was one of escape, a desperate bid to break away from the relentless tormentors who had made his existence a living hell.
Six years prior, he had surrendered himself to an institution, believing wholeheartedly that they would provide the answers he sought, that they would help him reclaim some semblance of normalcy. He had placed his trust in them, clinging to the hope that his mind and life would eventually right themselves. All he wanted was to be normal again.
But the reality he faced was far from his expectations. No. The gaze of those around him felt like daggers, aimed at what they perceived to be a monster—a freak unworthy of their compassion, unworthy even of sharing the same breath of air with them. It was this cruel judgment that had pushed him to the ledge of despair, to contemplate taking his own life. That was only one of many reasons, but it stung the deepest.
As he lay there, lifting his hand above his head, his fingers instinctively curled around your identification card, which he had taken from your purse.
In a fleeting moment, you words came to his mind: *I would take you to my house.*
Jungkook felt a wave of melancholy wash over him as he contemplated that thought. A sad smile played on his lips, but it didn't reach his eyes, which reflected a deep uncertainty. He found himself at a crossroads, grappling with the dilemma of whether to place his trust in you or shield himself from potential heartache.
Navigating relationships had always been a struggle for him; he felt clumsy and out of his depth. The warmth of trust seemed like a distant memory, something he had long forgotten amidst the chaos of his emotions. He couldn't quite recall the last time he felt safe enough to lean on someone else, to let go of his shields for just a moment.
Each breath he took was a reminder of the tightness that gripped his chest, a heaviness forged by years of skepticism and isolation. The world around him felt like a hostile place, where judgment lurked behind every corner and acceptance seemed just out of reach. Jungkook yearned for a life where he could exist without the constant fear of rejection, where love and camaraderie were not just fleeting dreams but tangible realities that could cradle him in warmth.
***
You were nestled in the warmth of your bed, cocooned in the heavy blankets that felt like a comforting embrace. Sleep had finally claimed you, but the remnants of tears lingered on your cheeks, glistening softly in the dim light that filtered through the open window. The faint sound of the night breeze whispered through the room, carrying the essence of summer and an unspoken longing in your heart for him to come and be with you again.
And then, as if answering that silent wish, he arrived.
Jungkook settled carefully on the edge of your bed, his movements deliberate and gentle, ensuring not to disturb your peaceful slumber. In the enveloping darkness, it took a moment for his eyes to adjust, but soon, he could make out the delicate lines of your face, illuminated only by the soft glow of the moonlight streaming in.
He lifted his hand slowly, hesitating for a mere heartbeat before brushing his fingers against your damp cheek; the touch was feather-light yet electrifying. His heart swelled at the sight of your innocence, your forlorn expression a bittersweet reminder of the moments you've weathered together. His fingers trailed down and gently grazed your lips, caressing the piercing that adorned them as if he could feel the weight of all that had passed between you in that simple act.
With a mix of reverence and longing, he leaned in closer, letting his lips barely brush against the corner of your mouth. A soft, tentative kiss sent shivers racing through both of you. Jungkook's heart thrummed in his chest, loud and wild, as his gaze roamed over every inch of your face, taking in the features he had memorized yet still found breathtaking. In that darkened room, a wave of emotion washed over him, making it hard to catch his breath.
Then, as if the air shifted, you stirred, your sweet, sleepy voice breaking the stillness. "Jungkook?" It was a whisper that seemed to suspend time, making his heart stutter as if it had forgotten how to beat. A mere second ago, it had raced with a fervor that felt primal, but now it was caught in his throat, rendering him momentarily mute.
To steady himself, he swallowed hard, anxiety and anticipation coursing through him, making it challenging to quell the tremors in his body.
"Who are you?" you asked softly, your fingertips reaching out delicately, making his heart swell. When your gentle touch found its way to his cheek, everything around you faded, and he focused solely on that moment, on the warmth of your hand against his skin.
Rising to a sitting position, your heart quickly matched his frantic rhythm as you drew him nearer, instinctively knowing who stood before you. He was like a shadow that haunted your thoughts during the darkest hours of your solitude. You had seen him, felt his presence in the confines of his dark cell, yet this was different. Every doubt dissipated as the familiar scent wrapped around you, filling your senses like a warm embrace.
Chocolate.
Inhaling deeply, your heart raced even faster, each beat echoing the sweet familiarity that came with him. It was unmistakable, a reminder of everything you craved and hoped for. And in that moment, with him so close, you realized that hope had transformed into reality.