Chapter 9:  The Weight of Regret

The world spun, a dizzying blur of faces and voices. Taehyung felt a searing pain in his head, a dull ache that pulsed with every beat of his heart. He was vaguely aware of someone hovering over him, their voice a distant murmur.

“Taehyung, Taehyung, can you hear me?”

The voice was familiar, laced with a desperate urgency. He forced his eyes open, the world coming into focus, blurry and distorted. Jungkook’s face, etched with worry, was inches from his own.

“Jungkook?” he croaked, his voice hoarse and weak.

“It’s okay, you’re safe now,” Jungkook said, his voice a soothing balm against the storm raging inside Taehyung. He gently helped Taehyung sit up, his touch a jolt of electricity that sent a shiver through Taehyung’s body.

“What happened?” Taehyung asked, his voice barely a whisper. He remembered the dizzying feeling, the sharp pain in his head, the sudden darkness. He remembered Jungkook, his anger, his fists clenched tight.

“You fainted,” Jungkook said, his voice a low rumble.  “You were burning up with fever.”

Taehyung’s eyes widened in alarm. He hadn’t even realized how sick he was. He had been so focused on the pain of the breakup, the sting of his own self-inflicted wounds, that he hadn’t noticed the warning signs. He had been so lost in his own world of misery that he had forgotten to take care of himself.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice thick with shame.  “I shouldn’t have been so careless.”

Jungkook’s expression softened, his eyes filled with a mixture of concern and regret. He reached out, his hand hovering over Taehyung’s forehead, his touch gentle and reassuring.

“It’s okay,” Jungkook said, his voice soft.  “You’re safe now. I’m here.”

Taehyung looked at Jungkook, his heart aching with a mixture of longing and fear. He had been so foolish, so reckless. He had pushed Jungkook away, driven him to the brink of anger, and now he was paying the price.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered again, his voice choked with tears. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Jungkook’s gaze softened, his eyes filled with a mixture of pain and understanding. He knew that Taehyung wasn’t intentionally trying to hurt him. He knew that Taehyung was hurting, too, lost in a labyrinth of his own pain.

“I know,” Jungkook said, his voice a low rumble.  “I’m sorry, too.  I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did.”

Taehyung’s heart ached. He knew that Jungkook was right. He had been so angry, so frustrated, so desperate to protect Taehyung from the world, that he had lost control. He had lashed out, his anger a reflection of his own pain.

“I’m just…I’m just worried about you,” Jungkook said, his voice a soft whisper.  “I don’t want to see you hurt.”

Taehyung’s eyes welled up with tears.  He knew that Jungkook was sincere.  He knew that Jungkook cared for him, that he wanted to protect him. But he also knew that he had hurt Jungkook, that he had pushed him away.

But the words held a chilling emptiness. Taehyung knew that Jungkook was here now, but he couldn't shake the feeling that he might not be there tomorrow. The weight of his betrayal, the fear of losing Jungkook, pressed down on him, a crushing burden that threatened to suffocate him.

Jungkook's gaze softened, his eyes filled with a mixture of pain and understanding. He reached out, his hand gently brushing against Taehyung's cheek.

“It's okay,” Jungkook said, his voice a soft whisper. “I'm here now. And I'm not going anywhere.”

He pulled Taehyung into a hug, the warmth of his body a comfort against the storm raging inside Taehyung.

Meanwhile, in a dimly lit office, a man sat at his desk, a cruel smile playing on his lips.

He tapped his fingers impatiently on the desk, his eyes fixed on the phone in his hand. The screen displayed a recent photo of Taehyung and Jungkook, their faces illuminated by the soft glow of the cabin's interior.

“So, they're together again,” he muttered, his voice a low, menacing growl. “But not for long.”

He picked up the phone, his thumb hovering over the green button. He took a deep breath, his voice a chilling whisper when he spoke.

“They're on the move. I've got eyes on them.”

The voice on the other end of the line was sharp and impatient.  “And?”

“They're headed north. I'm tracking them.”

“Good. Make sure you keep them in sight.  And don't let them get away, I want you to keep me updated about them, do you understand?”

“Yes, boss,”

He ended the call, his eyes returning to the photo of Taehyung and Jungkook. He traced his finger across their faces, a cold, calculating glint in his eyes.

“You're mine,” he whispered, his voice laced with a chilling possessiveness.  “And no one, not even that detective, will take you away from me.”

He stood up, his shadow stretching across the office floor. He walked to the window, his eyes scanning the city below. He knew that Taehyung was out there, somewhere in the vast expanse of the city, unaware of the danger that was closing in on him.

And he was going to make sure that Taehyung would never escape him again.

Milan knew she fucked up, she failed to deliver the “present” that she was supposed to give to her boss. She couldn't believe detectives would raid the club; she's been eyeing Kim Taehyung; after all, it was him that caught the boss's attention. It took her quite a long convincing and manipulating just to get Taehyung in the club.

“Shit” she cursed under her breath.

The boss has high expectations that she will succeed in her mission. She was frightened of what the boss would do to her; the boss was strict when it came to getting what he wanted. The boss has been longing for Kim Taehyung for quite a while now, and it got delayed when Jeon Jungkook appeared out of nowhere.

She was able to separate them, but it still didn't work at all. She should do something to totally break them apart, not temporarily, but forever.