𝑫𝑨𝑹𝑲 𝑺𝒀𝑴𝑷𝑯𝑶𝑵𝒀 | tk☆

chapter 6

Don't hesitate to share your thoughts with me, my loves. Your presence brings me unexplainable bliss. Unfortunately, my mental health has worsened this week. I apologize for any mistakes, I'm doing my best.

Their exchange was sparse, filled with glances more potent than words—each glance an unspoken battle between them. There was an oppressive silence in the air as Heesu led Taehyung out of the shop, her grip firm and unyielding as she guided him to her car. Taehyung felt an indescribable discomfort settling over him, like a weight pressing down on his chest, suffocating him.

As they sat in the car, the tension grew thicker, suffusing the air with an almost tangible heaviness. Taehyung's eyes stung with unshed tears, his heart aching with longing for Junghyun's presence. He opened the window in a desperate bid for relief, craving even a breath of fresh air to ease the oppressive atmosphere within the car.

"Are you alright, my dear?" Heesu's voice cut through the silence like a knife, dripping with a venomous tone that sent shivers down Taehyung's spine. Her hand rested on his stomach, a gesture that felt invasive and suffocating. Taehyung flinched at her touch, the hair on the back of his neck standing on end.

"I feel like you're not well, from the shop. Did she say anything?" Heesu's words hung heavy in the air, her gaze boring into Taehyung with an intensity that made him want to shrink away. He mustered all his courage to softly push her hand away, his fingers trembling with fear as they rubbed the spot where she had touched him.

"N-no, mother... She was... just congratulating me on this," Taehyung stammered, his gaze fixed on anything but Heesu's piercing eyes. Her response was a low murmur, laced with a sinister undertone that sent a shiver down his spine,"good then." she says.

"This better be a boy, Taehyung. Mark my words, or..." She let her threat hang in the air, leaving Taehyung to contemplate the ominous implications of her words as he stared out of the window, feeling the weight of her gaze even as he looked away.

♠︎

As soon as they reached home, Taehyung was the first to step out, his heart weighed down by the burden of his husband's decisions. He didn't wait for anyone, disappearing into his room, tears streaming down his flushed cheeks like a torrential rain. Each step felt like a heavy anchor dragging him deeper into the abyss of despair, his chest constricted with the weight of unspoken pain and betrayal.

Inside his room, the darkness welcomed him like an old friend, wrapping him in its suffocating embrace. Taehyung collapsed onto his bed, the sheets damp with tears and sweat, his sobs echoing in the empty room. The walls seemed to close in around him, suffocating him with their silent judgment.

He didn't want to live anymore, didn't want to face the reality of his shattered dreams and broken promises. The pain was too much to bear, a relentless ache that consumed him from the inside out. All he could do was surrender to the darkness, letting it swallow him whole as he wept for the life he had lost.

His hand clutched to his belly, a desperate attempt to find solace in the life growing within him. But instead of comfort, all he found was a void, an emptiness that mirrored the agony in his soul. His sobs echoed through the silent room, a haunting melody of despair that seemed to reverberate off the walls.

He needed a moment, a respite from the suffocating weight of his existence. The thought of food made his stomach churn with nausea, the very idea of sustenance repulsive in the face of his overwhelming grief. His surroundings, once a symbol of luxury and opulence, now felt like a prison—a gilded cage suffused with the darkness of his despair.

Every detail of the room seemed to mock him, a cruel reminder of the life he had lost. The ornate furnishings, the plush carpets, the delicate trinkets—all served as painful reminders of a happiness that had slipped through his fingers like grains of sand. He wanted to scream, to lash out at the injustice of it all, but all he could do was crumble beneath the weight of his sorrow, his tears staining the silk sheets beneath him.