"Everything I needed to feel happy was love. I met you, and now I need nothing."

Chapter 12: Revenge

The air hung heavy with unspoken tension as Taehyung slept, his small form curled around Jungkook's shirt, clinging to it as if it were a lifeline. Jungkook watched him, a wave of protectiveness washing over him. The sight of such vulnerability in someone so beautiful, so precious, fueled a simmering rage within him. Yohan would pay.

The insistent buzz of Jungkook's phone sliced through the quiet. He rose carefully, leaving Taehyung undisturbed, and answered the call as he descended the stairs.

"Hyung?" he asked, his voice low.

"I'm outside your cabin," Jimin's voice crackled through the receiver. "Saw your bike. Ready to go?"

"Yeah," Jungkook replied, his gaze lingering on the sleeping figure upstairs. "Taehyung's asleep. I'll be right out."

He ended the call and joined Jimin, who was waiting patiently by the door.

"Yoongi tracked Yohan," Jimin said, his expression grim. "We can go now."

Jungkook nodded, the image of Taehyung's tear-streaked face burning itself onto his retinas. He wouldn't let this go. He strapped on his helmet, the leather cool against his skin. This wasn't just about justice; it was about protecting the person he cherished most.

The roar of Jungkook's engine followed Jimin's car as they sped towards the club, a throbbing pulse of adrenaline coursing through Jungkook's veins.

They arrived at the club, a dark, imposing structure that seemed to swallow the night. Jimin stopped his car, and Jungkook cut his engine, the sudden silence amplifying the tension. Jimin produced a gun, handing it to Jungkook with a grim nod.

"Take this," Jimin said, his voice barely a whisper. "For protection."

"How am I supposed to get in with this?" Jungkook questioned, his grip tightening on the weapon.

"Namjoon Hyung owns the place," Jimin replied, his eyes conveying a silent understanding. "Use it only if absolutely necessary."

Jungkook concealed the gun at his waist, his heart pounding a relentless rhythm against his ribs. He approached the club, the bouncer barely glancing at him as Namjoon had already given the word.

Namjoon led him upstairs, pointing to a door. "He's in there," he said, his voice barely audible above the muffled music.

Jungkook opened the door, the scene inside hitting him like a physical blow. Yohan sat on a plush couch, entangled with a woman, Victoria clinging possessively to his side.

Victoria gasped, pulling away from Yohan as Jungkook's presence filled the room. Rage, raw and untamed, exploded within Jungkook.

He grabbed Yohan by the collar, his knuckles white with fury.

"How dare you touch him?!" he roared, his fist connecting with Yohan's jaw with brutal force. The women and a nearby waiter scattered, fleeing the scene of the impending violence.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" Yohan snarled, wiping blood from his split lip.

Jungkook pinned Yohan to the couch, his grip unrelenting. "You shouldn't have touched him! You shouldn't have made him cry!" he screamed, another punch landing squarely on Yohan's cheek.

Yohan retaliated, a vicious blow that sent Jungkook reeling. But Jungkook, fueled by a righteous fury, fought back, his movements precise and deadly. The fight was brutal, a chaotic ballet of fists and fury. Yohan's sneering confidence quickly dissolved into fear as Jungkook's rage intensified.

Victoria, her face pale with fear, tried to intervene. "Jungkook, stop that!" she cried, but her voice was lost in the storm of violence.

Yohan, regaining his footing, spat blood onto Jungkook's face. "He's my fiancé! I'll do whatever I want to him! You're nothing, asshole!"

Jungkook kneed Yohan in the groin, sending him sprawling. He wiped the blood from his face, his eyes blazing with fury. "You don't deserve him," he growled, his voice thick with rage.

Victoria tried again, grabbing Jungkook's arm. "Jungkook, let's go. You don't know what he's capable of."

Jungkook yanked his arm free, his gaze hardening. "Stay out of this. You don't know what he did to him!"

"He can kill you," Victoria warned, her voice trembling.

"You don't know me either," Jungkook retorted, his voice dangerously low. "Don't stop me, or you'll end up in his place."

Victoria recoiled, fear etched onto her face. Jungkook, ignoring her, continued his assault, his actions fueled by a burning sense of justice and the image of Taehyung's tears. He pressed his foot onto Yohan's groin, Yohan's cries of pain echoing in the room.

"Suh-stop!" Yohan cried, but Jungkook remained relentless.

"Try to get near him again," Jungkook shrieked, kicking Yohan in the stomach, "or you'll wish you were dead."

He spat on Yohan's face, leaving him writhing on the floor, his body broken and his spirit crushed. Yohan, defeated and in agony, crawled towards his phone, contacting his guards for help.

The aftermath was a stark contrast to the violence that had preceded it. Jimin offered Jungkook a cigarette, his silence a testament to the understanding between them. Jungkook accepted, the smoke a temporary balm to his raw emotions.

"I'll go now," Jungkook said, his voice rough but controlled. "Thanks for your help."

Jimin watched him go, knowing that the rage still burned within Jungkook, a fire that only time could extinguish. The memory of Taehyung's tears remained, a silent testament to the depth of Jungkook's love and the ferocity of his protection.

Forgetting his cabin, Jungkook sought the Han River, his anger a tidal wave. He screamed his frustration at Taehyung's plight, the raw injustice fueling his rage. His actions felt insufficient; Yohan's transgression demanded retribution, a punishment for hurting not only Taehyung but the very heart of Jungkook's world. The river's indifferent flow mirrored his own turbulent emotions, a relentless current of sorrow and burning resentment.

Sunlight, a tentative finger of warmth, nudged Taehyung awake. His eyes fluttered open to an unfamiliar room, the soft glow illuminating unfamiliar walls and furniture. Disorientation washed over him as he sat up, his mind struggling to grasp his surroundings. A wave of anxiety began to rise.

He called out, "Jungkookie," his voice a fragile whisper, and pushed himself off the bed, his bare feet padding softly on the floor as he descended the stairs. The cabin, though cozy, felt strangely empty. His gaze swept across the space, searching, and the absence of Jungkook sent a chill down his spine.

"Jungkookie," he repeated, the name laced with a rising panic. Tears welled in his eyes, blurring his vision, and a tremor ran through his body. He felt a growing knot of fear tightening in his chest.

Then, the door creaked open. Jungkook stood there, silhouetted against the bright sunlight, a small plastic box of glistening strawberries held in his hands. "Oh, you're awake, so-" he began, his voice gentle, but Taehyung didn't let him finish.

Before Jungkook could utter another word, Taehyung launched himself forward, wrapping his arms around him in a desperate embrace. The relief was palpable, a wave of warmth washing over him, erasing the icy tendrils of fear.

Jungkook's arms closed around him, his touch firm yet reassuring.

"Shush," he murmured, stroking Taehyung's back, his voice a soothing balm against the storm of Taehyung's emotions. "It's okay, I'm here."

Taehyung clung to him, sobs wracking his body. "I-I thought you left me," he choked out, his voice thick with tears. "I-I was so scared." His teary gaze met Jungkook's, a silent plea for reassurance.

Jungkook smiled softly, a tender expression that eased Taehyung's distress. "I just bought strawberries for you," he explained, "I thought you might like them."

Taehyung managed a weak, "Thank you," wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. Jungkook ruffled his hair gently, a gesture of affection that spoke volumes.

"Come on," Jungkook said, his voice warm and inviting. "I prepared some food for you, and I'll make you a strawberry shake." He set the plastic bag down on the counter, the scent of fresh fruit filling the air.

Taehyung nodded, his body still trembling slightly, and sat down on a stool. He picked up a strawberry, the vibrant red contrast to the lingering pallor of his skin, and popped it into his mouth. As he swallowed, a small, tentative smile touched his lips. The sweetness of the berry, a small comfort in a world that had felt so uncertain just moments before.