Forced Vows || TAEJINKOOK

20. DRENCED AND DEFEATED

Slight Warning ⚠️: Mention of bribing and alcoholism ahead so reader discretion is adviced.... Thank you...
Happy reading :⁠^⁠):⁠^⁠)
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The soft hum of the air conditioner was the only sound accompanying the steady click of fingers on keys. Taehyung sat behind his desk, eyes fixed on the monitor, but he wasn’t reading the lines on the screen. His mind was adrift, trapped in the stillness of a moment that had passed but refused to let go.

Minah’s words from this morning still lingered in his thoughts.

“Seokjin ah didn’t eat anything last night. He was waiting for you, Taehyung ah. Even if you had dinner at your office, can't you atleast eat a bite for him?.”

The toast in his mouth had gone dry and tasteless. He’d chewed slowly, her voice soft but the reprimand buried inside it cutting deeper than he’d expected.

He could’ve snapped-“I’ve been doing this since we married. Since the day he looked at me like I didn’t exist.” But all he’d managed was a bitter, breathless laugh and a small, “Sorry.”

Now, hours later, the ache lingered. What was Seokjin even trying to do? The quiet apologies, the subtle touches, the tender glances, why fucking now?

It didn’t make sense. It just made Taehyung hope, like always. And that was the cruelest part. The hope that maybe… maybe this marriage wasn’t doomed. Maybe Seokjin still cared. And yet, the past loomed behind every fragile act of tenderness like a shadow waiting to swallow him whole.

Taehyung exhaled, long and tired.

Across the room, Jimin sat on the couch, hunched slightly over his laptop, glasses slipping a little down his nose. He paused mid-scroll, gaze flicking up at Taehyung.

Taehyung hadn’t noticed, but the sigh had been louder than intended.

Jimin studied him, eyes narrowing. “You’ve been staring at that screen for ten minutes, Tae. You planning to hypnotize the spreadsheet or something?”

Taehyung blinked, then offered a faint smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “J-Just… thinking,” he murmured.

Jimin didn’t buy it for a second. He shut the laptop, placed it on the coffee table in front of the couch, and stood up with a quiet stretch. He walked over to Taehyung’s desk and leaned against the edge of it, arms folded across his chest.

Taehyung didn’t look up. His fingers hovered over the keyboard, unmoving.

“You’re not going to tell me, are you?” Jimin asked softly.

Taehyung gave a tiny shake of his head, still not meeting his gaze and said, "I-It’s n-nothing, J-Jimin."

Jimin sighed, the sound laced with both frustration and concern. “Taehyung… are you happy with Seokjin?”

Taehyung’s fingers froze above the keyboard. He lifted his head slowly, eyes searching Jimin’s face with disbelief. “W-Why are you a-asking me th-that?”

Jimin didn’t answer right away. He simply looked at him, and then shook his head, stepping closer. “Because something’s wrong. I can feel it,” he said quietly. “You’re not yourself lately, Tae.”

He reached forward, gently taking Taehyung’s hand in his. “If there’s something you want to share… I’m here. You don’t have to carry it alone. I’ll listen. We’ll figure it out. You know that, right?”

Taehyung stared down at their hands. His throat bobbed in a dry gulp, lips parting like he wanted to say something, anything, but no sound came. A few heavy seconds passed in silence.