The Inherited Slave/ Kim Taehyung Fanfiction.

2. The past.

As the morning light filtered through the cracks in the window, Y/N stirred from her restless slumber. With a heavy sigh, she glanced at the clock, her heart sinking at the sight of the time: 6:15.

Summoning what little strength remained within her frail body, Y/N leaned against the wall for support as she struggled to rise from the cold, hard floor where she slept. Every movement was a battle against the ache that permeated her weary limbs, a constant reminder of the torment she endured.

Grimacing with each step, she straightened her clothes, the fabric hanging loosely from her thin frame.

It was clear to anyone who looked that she was not in good health, her pallid complexion and gaunt appearance speaking volumes about the suffering she endured in silence.

A sharp pang shot through her elbow as she adjusted her sleeve, a painful reminder of the injury inflicted by her aunt a month ago. Though the physical wounds had long since healed, the memory of the attack still lingered, a cruel echo of the pain she endured on a daily basis.

But despite the overwhelming odds stacked against her, Y/N refused to succumb to despair. With a quiet determination, she pushed aside the pain and carried on, knowing that she had no choice but to endure another day in the prison of her own making.

As Y/N entered the kitchen, a sense of familiarity washed over her as she set to work preparing breakfast for her relatives. With practiced efficiency, she pulled out the ingredients and utensils, her movements automatic despite the fatigue that weighed heavily on her shoulders.

As she worked, the silence of the empty kitchen enveloped her like a comforting blanket, offering a brief respite from the chaos of her daily life. The rhythmic clatter of pots and pans filled the air as she chopped vegetables and stirred pots, lost in the familiar routine of cooking.

After finishing the breakfast preparations, Y/N glanced around the kitchen, her heart sinking as she realized that no one else was awake yet. It was a rare moment of solitude in a house filled with noise and chaos, and she savored the quiet as she paused to catch her breath.

With a pang of hunger gnawing at her stomach, Y/N glanced into the fridge, her eyes lighting up with relief as she spotted the leftover chicken and rice from the night before. It wasn't much, just a single bowl, but it was enough to satisfy her hunger for now.

With a sense of anticipation, Y/N quickly retrieved the bowl from the fridge and slipped underneath the kitchen island, hidden from view. In the dim light, she took small, hurried bites, savoring the simple pleasure of a hot meal in the solitude of the kitchen.

For a brief moment, the weight of her troubles lifted as she lost herself in the comforting embrace of food. But even as she ate, a sense of unease lingered in the back of her mind, a reminder that her moment of peace was fleeting, and that the harsh reality of her existence awaited her just beyond the kitchen door.

With a sense of urgency, Y/N devoured the meager meal, her hunger gnawing at her insides like a relentless beast. The taste of the chicken and rice offered a fleeting moment of satisfaction, but she knew all too well that it would not be enough to quell the emptiness in her stomach.

As she ate, memories of past hunger pangs flooded her mind, a reminder of the countless times she had gone without food at the mercy of the cruel maids. It was a harsh reality she had grown accustomed to, one that left her with a constant sense of deprivation and longing.