No one's POV:
As Jeongguk walked into the court room, he couldn't help but feel like this is what he deserved.
The disappointed faces of his family members would forever be engrained into his mind. There to haunt him with the memories of everything that had been lost.
Kang-min stood out the most.
He looked utterly humiliated.
Him, a retired military police officer had missed a crime right under his nose. Kang-min looked disgraced- not even being able to meet his son's eyes.
Jeongguk just avoided making any kind of contact with the people he held dearest in the first few rows.
He just couldn't stand it.
Sadness echoed through his heart as he approached the row of chairs at the very front. Despite not wanting to look, it was impossible not to notice the empty chair that had been reserved for Taehyung, should he had wished to come.
Jeongguk couldn't help seeing the isolated, unfilled chair in his peripheral vision. Especially when it stuck out like a sore thumb.
It was an eerie kind of emptiness that was the pinnacle of what had been lost. The absence of life was palpable and it stung Jeongguk painfully, swelling his heart and breaking his resolve.
It felt bad to admit that he really wanted Taehyung to be there, to support him. He just wanted to see his husband again- even if this was a less than ideal situation. But Jeongguk wanted to see that boxy smile and feel the love and warmth that Taehyung seemingly naturally radiated.
Fuck, he just missed Taehyung.
That was all there was to it.
But Jeongguk knew he was being greedy. After messing everything up and possibly being the reason Taehyung is sent to prison, it wasn't too much of a surprise that the brunet didn't want to talk.
Jeongguk was the reason they had been discovered and it was his fault the rouse had come to an end. They would have been fine if Jeongguk had been more careful.
If he had kept his mouth shut.
But he didn't. Jeongguk was careless and he had been constantly reprimanding himself for it.
So really, after that big of a fuck up should the Marine have expected Taehyung to come?
Jeongguk couldn't even stand what he had done so why should he expect that of his husband?
Was it even something Jeongguk could ask after jeopardising Taehyung's livelihood?
Probably not.
No, definitely not.
And so the Marine did not blame Taehyung one bit for staying away.
Maybe that was for the best in the end.
Maybe Taehyung being here would make this situation weigh heavier if Jeongguk could visibly see what he was walking away from.
It would probably hurt more.
And yet still, Jeongguk found himself willing Taehyung to just walk through those doors. Even as the Marine had gone past the rows of chairs and had opened the wooden gate to the area where he would be prosecuted, the ravenet was hoping to see the face of his husband.
But that face never showed.
Taehyung hadn't come and the trial was starting.
Jeongguk knew it was too much to ask.
Suffering through this alone was what was written in destiny.
Jeongguk slowly lowered himself down into the rich mahogany chair on the defendant side of the court room, leaning his walking stick against the railings behind him.
Jeongguk now became acutely aware of where he was and how many people were staring at him.
The lack of noise meant the Marine was alone with just his thoughts, even though there were some slight mutters from the lawyer beside him.
Suddenly, even his breathing seemed too loud as Jeongguk pulled at the collar of his Marine uniform. One that he didn't think he deserved to wear anymore.
These badges and ribbons were all lies.
They did not represent Jeongguk. They represented someone noble and virtuous, not a lowlife that had broken the law.
Because really, that's all he is now.
That's all Jeongguk saw himself as.
Maybe that was why he was so uncomfortable.
However, just being in the court room was suffocating.
Complete and total silence ensued the entire room.
No one dared speak.
This was no situation for small talk and so the pin drop stillness only seemed to grow louder.
That was until the big, wooden doors at the back of the room creaked open and the person that Jeongguk wanted to see the most stepped inside.
Taehyung stood there in a tightly fitted suit that Jeongguk knew for a fact he must have borrowed from someone. There was just no way he owned that kind of business attire, it just wasn't him at all.
And yet Taehyung had shown up in a suit to support his husband.
Jeongguk felt an odd sense of relief that Taehyung was here. It had calmed down his raging nerves slightly and now his uniform didn't feel quite so confining.
All heads simultaneously moved to get a better look at the boy who had just arrived, a series of mutters and gasps filling the room.
As Taehyung made his way to the front row, he ignored the flurry of whispers from Jeongguk's coworkers and family. The brunet only stopped to curtly wave at his in-laws who appeared happy to see him despite everything.
Keeping his eyes solely trained on Jeongguk, Taehyung sank down into his seat.
They both looked nervous, but that was to be expected. However, the anxiety levels weren't as bad as before for Jeongguk.
Staring into Taehyung's eyes and trying to convey all the words and feelings that he had felt this past week seemed like a difficult task. Yet Taehyung understood every bit of regret, sadness, guilt and fear because he too had felt exactly the same way.
Taehyung inhaled softly as he whispered a small, almost indistinguishable, "Hi."
A sad smile stretched on his lips after that. It was a half-hearted, complicated one that tried to show reassurance but ultimately only showed misery. Taehyung's eyes didn't crinkle like they usually did, the smile didn't have its usual box shape and his cheeks didn't squish up- telltale signs that Taehyung was just trying to put on a brave face.
Jeongguk could barely even think of a reply and so he just settled on mouthing, "Hey.", back to his husband.
Opening his mouth to say something, Taehyung found his words faltering before they could even begin. Instead of words, tears began to form in their place.
Jeongguk shook his head, trying to tell Taehyung to stay strong and that everything would be okay. The brunet just looked on in anguish, trying not to think of the possibility of Jeongguk being locked away.
Going to say something, Jeongguk opened his mouth, only to be rudely cut off but the opening of the doors that the judge walked through.
Their conversation had been cut horrifyingly short.
And now the fate of the next years of their lives hanged in the balance like a swinging pendulum.
With each swing only a miniscule amount of time seemed to pass, causing heartache and pain to amplify.
And in that desperation, getting all of this over with was beginning to seem like the better alternative.
At least that way things would be decided.
At least then the tight restraints of lies could hold the husbands no more.