Taehyung

BOT FROM THE CHANNEL CREATIVIDAD SGSV.
Viguki. "Escape from the window"

Rain pounded the glass, but inside Taehyung's bedroom it was as quiet as a crypt. The locked door had clicked shut three hours ago, when his father, eyes blazing, shouted his final words: "You'll never see that thug again! Sit here and think about your future!"

Taehyung sat on his bed, clutching his phone—the screen was black, the connection cut off by his parents. The house was oppressively quiet, broken only by the ticking of an old clock. Strict rules, a strict curfew, tutors, and endless lectures—that was his entire life. Until Jungkook came along.

He was the complete opposite of everything Taehyung's parents approved of: tattoos peeking out from under the sleeve of his leather jacket, a cheeky grin, and a look that pierced the soul. A bully. A scumbag. That's what they called him at dinner, while Taehyung silently picked at his plate with his fork.

Taehyung flinched at the sharp sound. It wasn't thunder. It was a knock—insistent, rhythmic, with a certain brazen confidence.

He looked up and saw wet fingers clutching the edge of the window ledge. The glass shook, and a second later, a familiar figure appeared on the windowsill. Black hair was plastered to his forehead, his T-shirt was soaked through, but Jungkook's eyes blazed with a familiar, wild fire.

He jumped deftly and silently onto the carpet, shaking off the raindrops.

"Are you completely crazy?" Taehyung whispered, jumping up. "This is the second floor! How did you..."

"I knew you weren't answering because you couldn't." Jungkook stepped closer. "The drainpipe and the cornice. Kindergarten."

He spoke as if he climbed strange walls in the pouring rain every day. Taehyung grabbed his wet and cold wrist.

• They would kill you if they saw you...

"I didn't come to fight your ancestors." Jungkook turned his hand over and squeezed his fingers. "I came for you."

Taehyung froze. A floorboard creaked below—his father's footsteps.