Wrong To Be His Alpha || Tk 𐤀

✴️ CHAPTER 41 ✴️

He extends his hands to touch the younger's face, caressing it with his thumb. A small smile forms on the lips as the younger relaxes more, his free hand subconsciously holding the warm hands of the older. Tae leans forward to kiss the sleeping figure, a simple expression of love, a simple touch of lips, a great impact on his heart. "Goodnight dear."

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The morning arrives, the night now preparing for the next arrival after 16 hours. Tae sits with Jiyi at the dining table. Jiyi has been acting so mature lately, Tae wonders if his health problems are indirectly affecting her childhood. He doesn't want that to happen.

Tae: "Baby, how's school going?" He asks the little girl in a cheery tone while he finds his hands busy in setting her stray hair on her forehead.

Jiyi: "It's good! The teacher taught us very hard maths yesterday...." And the rant continues. Tae smiles, chuckles and remarks some words in between the conversation trying to make up for all the times that she couldn't spend with her taetae.

Jungkook is long out for work. The man now sleeps late as wakes up early, works through the day, and comes home to care for tae.

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Tae: "You don't need to do it, you know. You can ask Jackson for help, or keep someone keeping a watch on me so that you don't tire yourself out."

He had stated once as he felt guilty of exhausting the younger out for his problems.

Jk: "Jackson needs time with neyeon. They have just found each other! Do you want to become a pain in their ass?"

Tae: "That would lessen the pain in neyeon's ass."

Jk: "Dirty. I am innocent."

Tae: "Right."

Jk: "And I don't trust anyone when it comes to you. They might fall in love with you. What if they are perfect. I don't want the competition. And I want to be with you. Do you not?"

Tae: "Stop emotional blackmailing, will you?"

Jk: "I am not! I am stating facts."

Tae: "Fine!"

Jk: "Good boy!"

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With Jiyi out for school with neyeon who drops her on her way to the hospital, Tae is alone for a few hours. Having no work in their hands he roams around the house a bit, moving his jammed body parts. His steps lead him in front of Jungkook's workroom. A space that was turned into a working place for the time Jungkook stays here.

He shakes his head internally. The younger is out for a few hours and he is already missing him, craving for him more. He enters the room with small steps, the room a bit messy. Jungkook was never a very organized person. But, his focus is snatched by the strong smell of sandalwood in the room. His nerves calmed down to a bare minimum. He feels peace in this room, comfortable and at home.

The table looks too messy to his eyes. If not for the sake of cleanliness, he proceeds to clean it for the sake of his self-proclaimed OCD.

Books, papers, notes, songs, diaries, contacts..........prescription? Tae furrows his brows as his orbs find a bundle of prescriptions stapled together, kept a bit separated from the rest of the documents. His prescription.

His eyes trace the words, reports, and results present in printed form and his eyes widen in realization.

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Eyes watering in torment, lungs feeling stiff, suffocating air around him, he remains gazing at the paper in his hands. The results of his final check-up.

"You're okay."
"You're healing."
"You're having great improvements!"
"You will be fine, the doctor assured us."

He has been hearing the words for the past two months, healing, health, okay, improve, he didn't get to make any sense out of these words. He doesn't remember being sick, except for his ruts to become tardy. And, the worst part of it, he finds to be that he never tried to make much sense out of it. He was taken care of, he was being loved, he was being pampered. And, up to the done point, he enjoyed it.

He loves it when Jungkook comes to him running, at the end of the day. But, this?

Weak immunity? Unstable mind? Confusions? These weren't his mistake after all....................fighting with death? And it was hidden? By the two most trusted people on this Earth? His tears find their way to his eyes, crudely cascading down to his cheeks. What will he make of it now?

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His hands fist the papers tightly. The last results were kept on top. He is close to his complete healing procedure.

A few courses of medicines and he is supposed to be fine, just like new, elegant and agile. But, when the present pressures him down with grief? How can he?

🥺

Author N-Tk 𐤀