TASTE | KTH

sanctuary and salvation

When Yura walks into the station, she's expecting Taehyung to be even more irritated with her than he was yesterday. She's half an hour late. Last night was particularly bad, and waking up on the cold floor of her apartment in a pool of her own blood was like waking up with a bad hangover. Her head pounded and her whole body ached, and the light hurt her eyes to look at.

She had to shower and put on makeup to hide the bruises again, and this tacked an extra twenty minutes on to her commute, making her thirty minutes late. But, instead of being met with an eye roll or snarky comment, she sees Taehyung, curled up in his seat and using the blazer he had been wearing the day before as a pillow. Soft breaths leave his slightly open mouth. He's fast asleep, and Yura wonders how late he stayed up before finally succumbing to sleep.

When he doesn't look so pissed at her, he's pretty. The bliss of sleep has smoothed out all the lines on his face, and she lets herself look at him more closely now. Long, dark eyelashes brush delicately against his high cheekbones. He has a small freckle on the end of his gently sloping nose. His lips are naturally pink and smooth, and his dark brown bangs lay nicely over his forehead. Yura lets out a quiet breath.

Taehyung is the most flawless person she has ever seen, she thinks. He's handsome for a man, but somehow also possesses a kind of beauty typically attributed to a woman. Androgynously, objectively nice to look at. The only kind of flaw she can see on his face is a scar on his cheek, and she wants to know how he got it—

"Good morning Yu--oh, wow." Officer Kim suddenly pokes his head into the small conference room they had designated for the tip line. His eyes flick between the sleeping Taehyung and Yura, who mentally slaps herself for staring at Taehyung while he sleeps and being a creep.

"Yeah. I didn't have the heart to wake him." Yura states, which is not a complete lie. Sighing, Namjoon walks over to Taehyung and gently shakes him.

"Taehyung." He says, softly but firmly. Slowly, Taehyung comes to his senses. Residue of sleep lingers in his pretty espresso colored eyes. He clumsily unfurls his long legs and sits up, rolling his neck out. Surely enough, he winces, having slept on it wrong. His turtleneck and blue jeans are wrinkled and creased.

"What time is it?" He asks, already deep voice lower from sleep.

"Eight. When did you fall asleep?" Namjoon asks.

"Six." Taehyung groans, rubbing his eyes. Yura raises her eyebrows-- he really is committed to his job. This only makes her feel worse for being distracted during her last shift.

"Okay, yeah, let's get you home. Yura can take it from here." Namjoon says, collecting Taehyung's crumpled blazer and holding it up, straightening it as if to slide it onto Taehyung's arms and over his broad shoulders. Yura can't help but notice the brotherly, almost fatherly energy Namjoon has around Taehyung. He must know him outside of work.

"No!" Taehyung protests immediately, jumping from his seat and taking his blazer back. He shrugs it on himself as he continues. "Namjoon, I'm awake! I'm so awake. See?" He insists, pointing at his eyes, which are open, but rimmed by dark circles. "I'm fine to work."

"You can't work on two hours of sleep, Taehyung." Namjoon says. Taehyung seems to get more and more worried the more resolute Namjoon seems in his decision.

"I can! I'm fine! I'll go get coffee or something! I want to be here." He says, gesturing to the phones Yura swallows nervously, feeling worse about yesterday the more she sees Taehyung protest. He's so nervous to leave her alone with the phones.

"I've really got it handled here, Taehyung. I promise. Yesterday I was a little--preoccupied, but I can do this." Yura steps in, eyeing Taehyung carefully. The man's shoulders slump.