Jungkook
The next morning felt unreal.
No gun. No gorgeous criminal. No words whispered like silk and sin.
Just silence.
Jungkook blinked at the bright light filtering through the dirty blinds of his apartment. He sat up slowly, the blanket falling from his shoulders. His chest still throbbed—not from pain, but from something deeper.
Taehyung.
He hadn't said his name. But that voice. That face.
It haunted him.
Jungkook shook his head and got ready for work, forcing himself to believe it was over. Just a weird, terrifying night. Just a robbery.
Right?
But when he reached the convenience store, something was… off.
Very off.
The broken security camera?
Replaced.
The flickering bulb?
Fixed.
A brand-new heater hummed quietly in the corner—one they definitely couldn't afford.
"What the hell?" he whispered, staring at it.
His manager blinked at him. "Oh, yeah. Some fancy-looking guy came in early this morning. Paid cash. Said he was 'protecting an asset.'" The man chuckled. "Guess we're someone's charity case now."
Jungkook's hands clenched at his sides.
He knew.
He knew who it was.
That night hadn't been random.
He was being… watched.
Protected.
Claimed?
No. No, that was crazy. Right?
Still, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was near. That someone had drawn a line around him in blood and dared the world to cross it.
Taehyung
He watched from the car.
Dark-tinted windows. Silent engine. Parked across the street like a shadow.
Jungkook was small, careful, too sweet for a world this cruel.
And now…
He was his.
Not officially. Not yet.
But soon.
Very soon.
Jimin sat beside him in the car, arms crossed. "You know this is dangerous."
Taehyung didn't look away from the store. "I don't care."
"You're getting attached."
"I said," Taehyung's voice dropped to a warning, "I don't care."
Jimin sighed. "Then you'd better move fast."
Taehyung finally turned to him, eyes unreadable. "Why?"
"Because someone else has started asking questions about him."
???
"He works the night shift," the man said, lighting a cigarette. "Quiet. Obedient. Scared of his own shadow."
"Perfect," replied the other voice. Deeper. Colder.
A hand flipped through photos of Jungkook—sleeping, walking, smiling faintly behind the store counter.
"That face… I want it crying."
He crushed the photo between gloved fingers.