Jungkook
Taehyung didn't kiss him.
Not yet.
He just held Jungkook there—nose brushing his, lips almost touching. So close that Jungkook could taste the unspoken things between them.
Desire.
Danger.
Possession.
"You should sleep," Taehyung said finally, but his fingers didn't let go. "Your body's still weak."
Jungkook looked away, cheeks flushed, lips aching. "Then let me go."
Taehyung's thumb grazed his pulse.
"You want me to?"
Jungkook didn't answer.
Couldn't.
Because no matter how much he told himself to pull away, to be afraid, to remember every terrifying thing Taehyung had ever done—his body betrayed him.
Heat pooled low in his stomach. His knees felt weak.
"I thought so," Taehyung whispered, finally letting him go. He turned to leave—but stopped at the door. "Sleep well, little lamb."
And then he was gone.
Jungkook sank to the bed, clutching the black rose from earlier.
He didn't sleep well.
He dreamed of chains made of velvet and kisses that stole the air from his lungs.
Morning.
He woke late—hot, flushed, and disoriented.
Taehyung's bed.
Taehyung's mansion.
Taehyung's world.
And him… right in the center of it.
He reached for his diary—a small black leather-bound notebook he had hidden deep beneath his pillow. It was stupid, he knew. Childish. But it was his only way to make sense of the chaos inside him.
Day 6.I woke up trembling again.Not from fear.From wanting.I'm losing myself in him. I know it. I just don't care anymore.If this is what falling feels like, I hope the ground is sharp.
He slammed the book shut.
Then paused.
Something was wrong.
The pages… they felt too smooth. Too loose.
He flipped to the first entry.
It was marked.
A thumbprint. Fresh. Faint.
Someone had read it.
His chest tightened.
No one knew about this. No one could've found it—unless…
Unless Taehyung had.
That evening.
A knock.
Jungkook froze.
He hadn't told anyone he was staying in. No one should be here.
He opened the door slowly—
A box. Black. Velvet.
He opened it with shaking fingers.
A chain necklace—silver, thin, shimmering like moonlight.
Attached: a note.
"I like the way your thoughts taste.Wear this. It suits your throat."– V
Jungkook's knees buckled. He sat on the edge of the bed, clutching the necklace like it burned.
How long had Taehyung been reading his secrets?
How much did he know?
And why did it turn him on?
That night, again.
He heard something.
A whisper outside the cracked window.
He opened it wider, breath fogging against the cool air.
Nothing.
And then—
A single rose, black as sin, drifted down onto his windowsill.
He grabbed it, heart pounding.
No footsteps. No shadow.
Just the wind.
And a voice inside him screaming:
You're not free, little lamb.You never were.
End of Chapter 9