RUSE || Taekook

THIRTY NINE || J5C3C4J3J5O4XF4C4F4A5

Jungkook's head aches and he keeps himself from bursting into tears, his hands rubbing at his thighs nervously.

"Some people are just born like that, you know," Shritha chuckles. "With bad luck. The same thing keeps happening to them over and over again. It gets so bad that they start ingraining these things into their internal clocks. They know what is happening to them is wrong, but to them... it's home.

"But Taehyung was never like that. His life kept fluctuating," Shritha traces the suit, straightening out the wrinkles Taehyung left there. "He experienced rape, then Yoongi showed him sex, he experienced rape then you both showed him sex again. And then he experienced rape again. So, every time it happened, it was like the first, but worse. It came to the point where Taehyung didn't want to heal anymore so he would not hurt when it happened again."

"When?" Jungkook surprises himself with how it barely comes out in a gasp.

"Taehyung's words, not mine."

"Oh," Jungkook croaks out.

⚠END OF WARNING⚠

Shritha slaps her thighs and stands, "Oh, would you look at the time, this body needs to get ready."

Jungkook blinks as Shritha walks over to the dresser and pulls out a box of hair dye from the drawer, examining it in her hands before walking towards the bathroom.

Jungkook hugs his knees to his chest, eyes on where Shritha was just sitting. He's not crying, but he wants to. Just imagining the nightmares Taehyung must've consistently had through life is enough for him to understand what happened with Jisoo.

No matter how much he was trying to deny it earlier, Taehyung is not okay.

Taehyung is not okay.

He was never okay. And he is never going to be okay.

Taehyung is sick.

And Jungkook knows, Jungkook knows better than anybody that he could've prevented it.

If he hadn't asked Taehyung out on that date, on the twelfth of December seven years ago, maybe Taehyung would be living a happy life somewhere in the U.S. He would've been married to Yoongi, selling his paintings for a living, maybe working as a kindergarten teacher in some small area in New Jersey.

If he had just controlled his gay ass that one time, maybe Taehyung would be the most famous painter in the world. Maybe he would be sitting at an art exhibit, showing off his work, not coming up with designs to cover his body with.

Maybe he would just be a regular house-husband, Yoongi taking care of everything else while Taehyung focused on living a happy life and maybe, just maybe, raising a few children as well.

But maybe that's wishful thinking. Jungkook doesn't truly know.

All Jungkook knows is, he wouldn't be the most feared man in the underworld, who was created out of assaults and molded from a lack of free will. He wouldn't be crying in his spare time.

Jungkook rubs at his eyes with his thumb and index finger, the sting in them growing.

Yoongi wouldn't have gotten lost and died a shit death in Korea.

Jungkook wouldn't have to submit to Taylor, Ariana and Selena's psychopathic wrongdoings.

All three of them would be free and happy.

But they're not.

And it's all because Jungkook couldn't control a crush he had in high school.

Fucking idiot.

--------

Shritha pulls the hairnet over her head after applying the dye all over Taehyung's hair.

She's not worried about the meeting, Vante took care of everything.

She's worried about Taehyung's emotional state during the meeting. The boy is not doing well.

Shritha runs the bath and seats herself in the tub, waiting for the water to reach her shoulders.

She stares at the various burn marks and cuts on Taehyung's arms, a small minority of them inflicted by Taehyung himself.

He had desperately tried to cover every scar on his body with tattoos, and although he succeeded with some, there were others that just could not be taken care of.

Some of the worst.

Shritha puts the arm under the running water as Taehyung does when he hopes that the water will just wash away all the marks.

It never works.

Shritha takes her hand up to her forearm and rubs in reassurance, praying to whatever God is up there that Taehyung will be able to feel her comforting touch.

That's all she's ever wanted.

To be able to hug Taehyung, kiss him, cuddle him and tell him everything was going to be okay. She wants to love Taehyung the way his own mother didn't.

Her only desire in life is to be there for him, to hold him, to sing him to sleep, to kiss him awake.

He is her first son, her whole world.

She wishes to tell him about herself, so he may know that he has never been alone.

However, Shritha is not selfish.

Her love for Vante, Tata, Reha and the others prevents her from fulfilling her own desires.

But she knows they have their own wishes too.

Vante wishes to be out of Taehyung so he may protect him better. He wishes to be able to live on his own so he can have a family with her, all while they raise Tata together.

Tata himself has many dreams, his favorite one being where he has many friends who play with him and invite him for sleepovers and steal his lunch and help him through school. He wishes to play with a child without the child thinking it's a grown man.

The amount of times Tata has been stared at as if he's some pedo is enough to make Vante never let him out in front of other people.

Shritha sighs and thinks back to all the times Yoongi would lecture Taehyung on what dreams are and what one should do if they have a good one.

'If your dream is strong enough to keep you up at night, to make you forget those you love, to make you do things you never imagined yourself doing,' Yoongi would say. 'If it is strong enough to make you think about it in every waking moment, then it is not a dream. It is your calling. And you would be an idiot not to answer.'

Shritha is an idiot, then.

She sighs and slumps into the tub.

----

A/N:

And... cut!

Thoughts?

How are y'all? What's going on?

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Thank you for reading, voting and commenting! 

I published another book! A Taekook oneshot, so go check that out if you want! 🤗  

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I purple you! 💜💜💜