ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴏʏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴘᴜʀᴘʟᴇ ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ || ᴋ.ᴛʜ + ᴊ.ᴊᴋ ✔️

thirty-four: hostage

It was like experiencing the peak agony of a dizzy spell while still only half-conscious. The splitting, almost nauseating sensation that shot through his head as though it had been slammed against the concrete, the pain from which spread through to the back of his neck and stiffened it.

He was conscious now. It took a moment to realize it, but the muffled voices helped to knock it into his mind like a hammer on nails.

Slowly, fighting the urge to just keep them closed, Taehyung pried his eyelids apart to welcome light.

He was lying on his side on the floor. A cold, hard floor that straightaway made him miss his carpet at home - rather, made him realize he wasn't at home. No, wherever "here" was had had its carpet or floor tiles stripped bare, leaving an empty space chilling to the touch.

The next thing Taehyung registered was that his hands and ankles were bound together. So securely that he couldn't move them apart even a mere half-centimeter.

Taehyung had never considered himself claustrophobic in any mild form of the definition. But this. This feeling of being trapped, suffocated, unable to move.

This felt awful. For so many reasons.

His vision still somewhat unclear, Taehyung blinked as he struggled to at least sit himself upright. It wasn't the easiest task. His whole body ached, he wanted to cry out in pain but managed to refrain from doing so. After some time he succeeded. His back against whatever solid wall or wall-like structure was behind him, Taehyung had himself in a sitting position, legs out in front of him.

It was seconds later his vision finally cleared. He could see who those unfamiliar voices belonged to - a small group of men stood afar off, one staring at his phone while the other two talked with one another. The large room was just about barren save several pieces of old-looking furniture scattered here and there, including an arm chair beside which stood a fourth male.

"Seok...jin.."

The name dropped from Taehyung's mouth like a chunk of lead sliding off his tongue, leaving behind a bitter, repulsive taste that made Tae wish he could have swallowed a bar of soap just then.

"Oh, the kid's awake." One of the three men in the group tapped the one holding the phone. "Call Yojun."

"No need, I'm right here."

Taehyung offered no more than a glance towards the older man now entering the room from somewhere else. The vast majority of his focus had been trained on Seokjin and Seokjin only. Their eyes had met for a mere second. And in that second, Taehyung felt every ounce of trust he had built up for that boy blown back in his face in the form of dust.

He didn't want to move his vengeful gaze from Jin's face, but out of the corner of his eye Taehyung saw something.

Someone, rather.

Jungkook. Against another wall of the large room, lying on his side just as Taehyung had been, hands and ankles tied securely. From the looks of it he was still unconscious.

The sight of him. Just the sight of him there, too far away from Taehyung than he believed the boy ever should be. Unarmed. Helpless. The bruises on his face had just been starting to go away. If he were to be harmed again, even touched again by someone, it wouldn't end well. Not in Taehyung's mind and heart, at least.

Just the sight of Jungkook lying there...

Tae's heart pounded against his chest and soon became the only thing he could hear. His eyes froze open in denial as the boy's name fell from his lips. He didn't move.