the DEVIL [JJK+KTH]

|69| Only the Fool loves

His relationship with his parents was too bleak to ever consider it something as a matter of significance.

He would send a hefty cheque twice yearly, a form of compensation for the years they put a roof over his head, fed and clothed him. One would say he's diligent for a son, but Taehyung was just returning a debt that could only be paid fully with his death alone.

Taehyung looks up from his hands, gritting his teeth as though he could see blood on his palms.

Hyunwoo's death on his hands, hit that nail for him.

That... was the reality.

Even if he wasn't the murderer, he was made to feel like one.

He still feels like one.

The blood remained like a stain that he couldn't wash off no matter how hard he dug his nails into his flesh.

They wouldn't let him forget and Taehyung wouldn't let himself forget either.

"Do not mention it ever again." Taehyung says, his tone icy.

The handmaiden doesn't respond and Taehyung looks up at her.

"Understood." She mumbles faintly, the skin around her mouth wrapping back up to a smooth ceramic texture.

Taehyung sighs, turning to his side, to step out of the bed. His bare feet land flat on the floor, his clothes once more changed to dull grey robes.

"Where is your sister?" Taehyung asks, straightening up as he stands— a dull ache in his body that keeps throbbing with every move he makes.

"Viri is assigned work outdoors..." the Demon replies, clasping her hands. "But first, this one would like to ask, how we should formally address the guest?"

Taehyung pauses to look down at the handmaiden who stood several heads shorter than him.

He wrinkles his nose at that.

Does Hell offer that sort of formality to outsiders— let alone a human nonetheless?

Jimin had taken longer to warm up to him— but as for the two handmaiens, apart from the brief hostility at the beginning, they seemed to have overturned to a new leaf in the expanse of a day or two.

It was suspicious.

Taehyung cannot trust them just yet.

The dull ache shoots in his head and he winces.

It would be wise of him to not trust.

Not the Demon before him.... or his friend that no longer was his friend... or the one that bludgeoned him to near death.

He can't trust Jungkook either.

He couldn't.... not when Jungkook— is... no longer Jungkook.

Something happened while he was unconscious. Something terrible, that lead to this unforseen predicament. Hours ago before he had begrudgingly fallen asleep from exhaustion, Taehyung thought of all sorts of things that resulted to this fate— but even more so he spent greater time inspecting himself, pinching and prodding at his own skin— this was real.

Everything that happened, was real.

And the seemingly cruel person who wore the skin of the person he most adored, was real too. Cruel, Cruel down to the bone, unfathomable evil down to his very last hair— the man, the Devil, who was taller than he remembered, with his hair longer, his gait stronger, with skin much paler while his irises blazing like flames of the hearth of Hell in its flesh.