Wrecking Ball

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The steam of the hot water running down his body created a cloud similar to the one fogging his thoughts; the hot drops perfectly kissed every inch of his skin, leaving a pinkish hue behind to commemorate the encounter while making up for the comf...

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The steam of the hot water running down his body created a cloud similar to the one fogging his thoughts; the hot drops perfectly kissed every inch of his skin, leaving a pinkish hue behind to commemorate the encounter while making up for the comfort life had taken away from him with a momentary but pleasurable one; the immaculately toned abs welcomed the heat without complaints, biceps twitching and muscles manifesting their presence from the pressure put on his palms as he rested them on the tiled wall, shoulders quenched and head hanging low creating a path for water to run smoothly while drenching the raven mullet, flattening the strands of the over-grown fringe on his forehead while covering the deep brow that hosted a crease between his eyebrows. 

He closed the valves of the Victorian shower and stepped out of the stall, exhibiting to the emptiness of the room his statuesque built, adorned by the faithful drops that hung on his skin for a few seconds before sliding down his body to meet the floor like a Greek god; broad shoulders standing confidently erect in contrast to his previous position that had lasted almost half an hour; the discomfort was washed off his body and went down the drain; a clean body, a clear mind, a victorious Taehyung, that was the version to be set forth, respected and rightfully admired.

When sitting at a poker table, no matter the cards on your hold, you'll lose if you are not confident. While playing cards, one needs to pull a joker's face; emotions could be the first weak point your rivals would stab at until it bleeds; honesty shares the same trait, they're both lessening winning chances, they're to be got rid of, Taehyung was well aware of that, although being swept off his feet with all he faced, he thought himself how to get up, how to resume his march confidently while holding a heavy sword to slaughter fate.

Taehyung stood in front of the mirror with a towel draped over his lower body, covering just as much as it could; his v-line remained proudly far from hidden, adding a sprinkle of spice to his intimidating form capable of getting many mouths watery had been there an audience. After running his fingers through his hair several times, his hand met his chin, tilted it left and right, inspecting the state his skin reached; the condition of the bags under his eyes suggested that alcohol wasn't doing him good.

Letting the towel slide gracefully down his body, Taehyung decided it was time to get his armor on along with the mask of confidence, for that day, he was to satisfy his alter ego. Nothing would stop him, even if the obstacle were ever to be you.

The white shirt completed the look he was going for, simple, neat, and classic; the black tie, on the other hand, reminded him of the style he sported as he witnessed your vows to his brother; nevertheless, the link between his attire and the noir memory was bound to be broken that day, even the weather ensured this would be the case, for, unlike your wedding day, the sun was shining brightly that morning, and although the jealousy of the clouds that sought to obscure it shone through his window, illuminating not only the room but also his usually somber mood.

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