JEON JUNGKOOK

The act of opening my eyes felt Herculean, as though my very eyelids were weighed down by an invisible force. My face was stiff, unyielding, and my body felt as though it had been crushed beneath the weight of the world. I winced as I shifted my hand, the movement sending a sharp pang through my limbs, and slowly, painfully, my eyes cracked open. The dim light of Taehyung’s room greeted me, its familiarity offering little comfort. My gaze wandered, taking in the surroundings—his room, his space, a place that should have felt safe but now only served as a reminder of my own fragility.

My head throbbed mercilessly, the pain radiating from my forehead with such intensity that it threatened to overwhelm me entirely. A wave of nausea washed over me, and I clenched my jaw, willing myself not to succumb to it. I felt hollow, as though the very essence of who I was had been drained from me. How did it come to this? How had I allowed myself to fall so far?

With great effort, I pushed myself upright, my back pressing against the headboard of Taehyung’s bed. The room was silent, save for the faint hum of my own ragged breathing. Taehyung was nowhere to be seen, and the absence of his presence only deepened the ache in my chest. I sighed, a sound that carried the weight of my exhaustion, and attempted to swing my legs over the side of the bed. My muscles protested violently, my legs trembling beneath me as I tried to stand. They barely held my weight, and I staggered, gripping the edge of the bed for support.

I had taken a brutal beating, and for what? For nothing. Absolutely nothing. All I had succeeded in doing was proving, yet again, how weak I was. How utterly incapable I was of defending myself, of standing my ground. The thought burned in my mind, a searing reminder of my inadequacy.

Limping towards the mirror on the wall, my heart stuttered to a halt as I caught sight of my reflection. My face was a canvas of pain and humiliation—my eyes were a deep, sickly purple, my lip split and crusted with dried blood, my nose swollen and caked with crimson. I barely recognised the person staring back at me. The sound of the door opening behind me sent a jolt of fear through my body, but I couldn’t bring myself to turn around. How could I face anyone after the reckless, foolish stunt I had pulled?

“You’re awake,” Taehyung’s voice cut through the silence, sharp and unyielding. He didn’t sound impressed; if anything, his tone was laced with disappointment.

I swallowed hard, the action painful against my dry throat, and forced myself to turn and face him. My eyes met his, and I saw the storm brewing within them. He stood with his arms crossed over his chest, his gaze piercing, demanding answers I wasn’t sure I could give.

“Yeah,” I croaked, my voice barely audible, rough and broken as though I hadn’t spoken—or drunk—in days.

“Why the hell did you do that, Jungkook?” Taehyung’s voice was low, but the anger in it was unmistakable. It wasn’t just anger, though; there was something else, something raw and vulnerable that made my chest tighten.

I stared back at him, my own eyes unable to hold his gaze for long. The weight of his disappointment was too much to bear. “Because I’m sick to death of them talking about me,” I mumbled, my voice barely above a whisper as I looked down at the floor, unable to face him.

“So instead of talking to me about it, you decided to get yourself beaten to a pulp?!” Taehyung’s voice rose, his frustration boiling over as he took a step closer to me. His proximity was overwhelming, and I felt myself shrink under his scrutiny.

“Because I’m tired of hiding away!” I shouted back, my voice cracking under the strain. The words burst out of me, raw and unfiltered, carrying all the pain and frustration I had been bottling up.

Taehyung’s jaw clenched, his teeth grinding together as he absorbed my outburst. “Do you even understand how close your wolf is to being paralysed?” His voice was desperate now, the anger giving way to something far more terrifying—fear. “You’ve endured so much physical pain, Jungkook, that your wolf is on its last legs. If you had taken just a few more punches—” He paused, raising a fist to his mouth as though to stifle the words. His eyes glistened, and I couldn’t tell if it was from tears or the reflection of the light, but either way, it shattered me. “Do you even understand what that would do to us? To our bond?”

He was crying now, the tears spilling over as he struggled to maintain his composure. “Once your wolf is paralysed, there’s no going back. It will destroy you, day by day. It will destroy us. Jungkook, you need to take care of yourself, of your wolf. He’s physically weak—he doesn’t heal. The next time this happens, he might not come back. You might not come back.” Taehyung stepped closer, his feet now parallel to mine, his presence both a comfort and a torment.

I blinked, and tears streamed down my cheeks, hot and unrelenting.

Taehyung’s eyes softened, the anger giving way to something far more tender. “Why did you fight him? What were you trying to prove?”

The lump in my throat was suffocating, and I struggled to force the words out. “Everyone is talking, Taehyung. Everyone is saying how weak I am compared to you. How could you bring up a pack with me as your mate?” My voice broke, the words tumbling out in a rush of pain and insecurity. My eyes burned as I stared up at him, begging him to understand.

“And because they said that, you decided to fight him?” Taehyung’s tone was incredulous, his confusion evident.

“I just wanted to prove that I can fight, that I’m not weak, that I can stand up for myself,” I said, my voice trembling as I wiped away the angry tears that refused to stop.

Taehyung’s eyes bore into me, searching for something I wasn’t sure I could give. “Why do you care what they have to say?”

“Because it’s true!” I screamed, the words tearing out of me with a force that left me breathless. “I’m an embarrassment to you! How could you want me? Have you seen what I look like?”

His face fell, the hurt in his eyes unmistakable. His eyebrows dipped, and he looked at me as though I had struck him. “Why is what I say to you never enough?” he asked quietly, his voice breaking under the weight of his emotions.

My heart pounded in my chest, each beat a painful reminder of my own inadequacy.

“Why do you need everyone else’s approval?” he continued, his voice barely above a whisper now. “I tell you constantly what I think of you, what I know you are deep down. How proud I am that you’re my mate, how happy I am that you’re my mate. But that’s never enough for you.” He looked away, as though it was too painful to hold my gaze, and the action cut deeper than any words could. “Surely my opinion—the opinion of the person who wants to build a pack with you by my side—should matter more than anyone else’s. You know what I think of you, Jungkook. You know I want you by my side every single day. But you don’t care about what I think. You need everyone else’s validation, and I don’t understand why.”

“No, Taehyung, tha—” I started, but he didn’t let me finish.

“So instead of talking to me, instead of remembering how I feel about you, you decided to get yourself beaten to prove a point to some idiots who don’t matter?” His voice was harsh now, the anger returning full force.

I couldn’t breathe. The weight of his words pressed down on me, suffocating me.

“Because that’s fucked up, Jungkook. That’s not okay.” His words were final, leaving no room for argument.

My hands clawed at my hair as I broke down, crying pathetically into my forearms. The sobs wracked my body, each one a painful reminder of my own stupidity.

“I don’t even know what to say to you anymore, Jungkook,” Taehyung said, his voice rising again. “I try so hard to make you feel loved, to understand what you’re going through, but by doing this, you’re just pushing me away.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. I hated myself. I hated myself.

Choking on my sobs, the anger and frustration inside me erupted. I turned towards the mirror, my fist raised, and I pounded on the glass over and over again. “Stupid, stupid, stupid,” I mumbled through my tears, my voice barely audible over the sound of my fist hitting the mirror. My hands swept across the desk, sending papers and pens crashing to the floor in a chaotic mess. A distressed scream tore from my throat, raw and guttural.

All I could feel was panic. My head was chaos, a whirlwind of self-loathing and regret.

Taehyung’s arms wrapped around me from behind, restraining me as I thrashed against him. His chest pressed firmly into my back, his grip unyielding. I shook violently, my sobs uncontrollable, as he tried to calm me. “Shhh,” he whispered, his voice soft but firm. “Baby, stop.”

A pathetic whine escaped my lips, my heart breaking in my chest. I couldn’t take this. I couldn’t catch my breath.

“Stop,” Taehyung said again, his lips brushing against my ear. “It’s okay. It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

His touch was enough to halt the hyperventilation before it could fully take hold, but the pain inside me was unbearable. I wanted to hide away, to disappear from the world and never return.

Taehyung pressed a kiss to my temple, his lips warm against my skin. “Pups, it’s okay. I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered, his voice a soothing balm to my shattered soul.

After a few moments, I began to relax into him, his arms never loosening their hold. My tears dried, but my mind was still a whirlwind of self-destructive thoughts.

Taehyung’s grip relaxed slightly, but he kept me close, his hands moving to my shoulders to turn me around to face him. I couldn’t meet his eyes, my gaze fixed firmly on the floor. I felt like an idiot, a failure.

His hands cupped my face, his thumbs brushing over my cheekbones. He tilted my head up, but I still refused to look at him. “Pups, look at me,” he pleaded, his voice soft but insistent.

Reluctantly, I raised my eyes to meet his, and the moment I did, I felt the tears welling up again.

“Please, if it’s the only thing you answer truthfully today,” he began, his eyes searching mine. “Have you been taking your meds?”

I sniffled, swallowing hard to keep the tears at bay. Instead of speaking, I simply shook my head.

Taehyung let out a deep sigh, his hands tightening their grip on my face. “Why?” he asked, his voice desperate for understanding.

I shrugged half-heartedly, my voice barely a whisper. “I felt stupid for taking them.”

“You are not stupid for taking them,” he said firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument. “They’re temporary, Jungkook. You won’t need them forever. If you needed antibiotics for an infection, you wouldn’t just not take them because they made you feel stupid for not being able to fight it off yourself. No one thinks you’re stupid for taking them. They’re there to help you feel better.”

His words hit me like a punch to the gut, and I let out a painful sigh. “Mental illness is just as important as physical illness,” he continued, his voice gentle but firm. “Just because it isn’t visible doesn’t mean it doesn’t matter. It does matter, and you shouldn’t be ashamed. You should be proud of how far you’ve come.”

His eyes were filled with admiration and support, and all I could think was how I didn’t deserve him. How could someone so kind, so patient, love someone as broken as me?

Unable to find the words to respond, I let my head drop, my gaze returning to the floor. I felt like such a disappointment.

Taehyung’s lips pressed against my skin, his kisses soft and reassuring. “Baby, baby, baby,” he whispered against me. “Talk to me.”

I glanced up at him, my eyes filled with unshed tears. “I’m sorry,” was all I could manage to say.

His eyebrows furrowed instantly. “Don’t say you’re sorry, pups,” he said, his voice firm but gentle.

The room fell silent, the weight of his words hanging in the air. My mind was a jumbled mess, my thoughts a tangled web of self-loathing and regret.

“Maybe you should take a shower,” Taehyung suggested, his voice soft. “It might make you feel a little better?”

I nodded once, the movement small and hesitant.

“And then maybe we can talk, or if not, we can just eat and watch movies?” he asked, his tone hopeful.

He was trying so hard, and every time I realised how much he loved me, it made me want to scream in frustration at myself. If he was willing to try this hard for me, the least I could do was try for him—for us.

Pulling away from his hold, I walked towards his drawers and pulled out a pair of boxers. My steps were slow, deliberate, as I made my way to the en-suite. I pushed the door behind me, but it didn’t fully close, leaving a sliver of light from the room beyond.

Turning on the hot water, I began to strip off my clothes, avoiding the mirror. I couldn’t stomach the sight of what I had done to myself, the physical manifestation of my own stupidity.

Taehyung’s shower was unbelievably luxurious, even in my current state. The water pressure was comforting, the heat soothing against my battered body. As the water cascaded over me, the bruises and cuts began to sting, the heat causing me to wince in pain.

I took my time, allowing the water to wash away the grime and the pain, both physical and emotional. I focused on the sound of the water, letting it drown out the chaos in my mind. For once, I listened to myself, allowing the silence to calm the storm within.

I don’t know how long I spent in the shower, but eventually, I stepped out and dried myself off. Slipping on the black boxers, I towel-dried my hair, ensuring it wasn’t dripping into my face.

My eyes drifted to the mirror in front of me, and I felt frozen. I gazed at my reflection, taking in every mark, every bruise. My body was a testament to my own recklessness, and I wasn’t surprised Taehyung was angry. Luke could have killed me.

The bathroom door squeaked open, but I didn’t turn to look. Taehyung sighed from behind me before appearing in the mirror. He wrapped his arms around my slender frame, holding me close. My eyes remained fixed on my own reflection.

“What are you doing?” he mumbled into my neck.

I didn’t reply.

“Admiring this gorgeous face, I hope,” he said, his lips grazing my ear. His eyes met mine in the mirror. “Hmmm?”

He kissed my temple repeatedly, his lips soft against my skin. “Those gorgeous blue eyes,” he murmured, his gaze lingering on mine. “Those perfect little lips.”

I closed my eyes, focusing on his words, on the love and admiration he poured into them. The words of self-love, the words I should believe.

My shoulders relaxed slightly as he kissed the edge of my jaw. “This beautiful body, this beautiful mind.”

His arms held me tighter, and my skin burned with pleasure, a small shudder running down my spine. A sudden rush of butterflies fluttered through my stomach, and I loved knowing that Taehyung could make me feel like this.

If he loved me this much, why couldn’t I love myself?

Taehyung’s hands dropped to grip mine, and I opened my eyes to look at him. “Let’s practice some self-affirmations,” he said, a small smile playing on his lips.

I tilted my head at him, curiosity piqued.

“Repeat after me,” he said, holding our hands out to the side. My eyes watched him, mesmerised by how much effort he was putting into keeping me positive. “I am beautiful.”

Our eyes met, and he raised his eyebrows, prompting me to speak. “I—” my voice cracked. “I am beautiful.”

“Look at yourself,” he said, squeezing my hands. My eyes hesitantly moved from his to my own, my dark eyes staring back at me, a reflection of my own stupidity. “Now say it again.”

I swallowed and nodded. “I am beautiful.”

Taehyung’s lips twitched into a smile. “I am strong.”

My eyes flicked to his, and he knew exactly what I was thinking. “Your strong mind, your strong heart,” he said, his voice firm. “Say it.”

I let out a deep breath, my eyes settling on my reflection. “I am strong.”

“I am brave,” Taehyung stated, his voice strong and confident. His hands, still holding mine, shot up into the air, pulling my arms with them.

A small smile broke out on my lips. “I am brave,” I repeated.

Taehyung’s hands dropped mine, and he wrapped his arms around me again, his head resting next to mine. He stared me dead in the eye as he said, “I am worthy.”

My chest rumbled as I looked at myself, zeroing in on my own eyes. I took a deep breath. “I am worthy.”

Taehyung grinned at me before dipping his head down to my shoulder, peppering kisses along my skin. My eyes remained fixed on my reflection, and then I saw it.

My breath hitches in my throat as I stare intently at my reflection, my gaze fixated on my right eye. The dark bruise—was fading.

Slowly, as if time itself had decided to grant me mercy, the bruising was retreating, the discoloured skin returning to its natural state. A quiet gasp escapes my lips before I can stop it.

Taehyung's head snaps up at the sound. "What?" he asks abruptly, his deep voice laced with concern.

I spin around to face him, my heartbeat a frenzied rhythm in my chest. "Look!" I exclaim, my finger pressing gently beneath my eye. "Look, it's healing!"

His brows furrow slightly, his sharp eyes narrowing as he steps closer, observing me with unwavering attention. And then, his expression shifts. "Holy shit," he breathes, shaking his head in sheer disbelief.

"Is it completely gone?" I ask, whipping my head back towards the mirror. I lean in, my fingers brushing over the once-marred skin. My reflection stares back at me, unblemished. No trace of the bruise remains. My stomach twists, but not with fear—with something else entirely. A thrill. A rush. My blood races with exhilaration.

Behind me, Taehyung grins. "Pups, it's gone," he murmurs, his voice warm with unspoken pride. "Completely gone."

A disbelieving laugh bubbles from my lips as I turn to face him once more. "Why am I healing?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper, my mind whirling with questions. "What's happening to me?"

Taehyung doesn't hesitate. His hands come up to cradle my face, his touch firm yet achingly gentle. "Your body is healing itself," he states, his thumbs brushing against my cheeks.

I shake my head, struggling to grasp the impossibility of it all. "How?"

His dark eyes gleam, his lips curling into a knowing smile. "Self-acceptance," he murmurs, his voice rich with conviction.

Tears prick at the corners of my eyes. "You think that's it?" I whisper, the weight of his words settling deep in my chest.

Taehyung nods, unwavering. "It makes sense, doesn’t it?"

And it does. It truly does.

Overwhelmed, I close the distance between us, pressing my lips to his in a kiss filled with silent gratitude. Taehyung responds instantly, his arms tightening