Jeon Jungkook

The evening in the house always smelled of Jungkook's bitter perfume and expensive tobacco. Taehyung sat on the living room couch, trying to breathe every other breath. He'd made a mistake—he'd stayed an extra fifteen minutes on his walk with the driver this afternoon.

The front door lock clicked at exactly 8:00 PM. Second to second.

Jungkook entered, casually tossing his coat into the hands of a servant, who promptly vanished. He didn't look at Taehyung as he removed his cufflinks, but Taehyung could feel the tyrant's attention focusing on him.

Jeon walked up to the bar, poured himself a whiskey, and only then turned his head. His gaze—heavy, emotionless—pierced Taehyung right through.

“Come to me,” Jungkook’s voice sounded soft, but in this softness there was a clang of steel.

Taehyung rose stiffly and approached, stopping a few steps away. Jungkook slowly closed the distance, forcing the boy to look up. He reached out and touched Taehyung's jaw, lightly pressing his thumb against his lower lip.

"Fifteen minutes," Jeong said, almost in a whisper. "Fifteen minutes you made me wait for a report on your whereabouts. You know how much I hate it when my things aren't in their proper places?"

He pulled Taehyung closer by the back of his head, forcing him to look straight into his pitch-black eyes.

"Tell me... am I not giving you enough here that you are so desperately searching for something on the dirty city streets? You upset me, little bird. And you know what happens when I'm upset."