章節 2: Weird
How old is he? I recalled asking Naeun, my hand instinctively rising to grasp the cage's cold, unyielding metal bars. Behind them, Jungkook lay sprawled in a peaceful slumber, his chest's soft rise and fall bringing a warm smile to my face. His presence was both calming and unsettling, evoking a strange mix of emotions within me.
Twenty years old, Naeun replied, her voice steady yet laced with an undercurrent of sadness that made my heart ache. The weight of her tone suggested a history I could barely fathom.
I gazed down at Jungkook, taking in the tranquility that wrapped around him like a comforting blanket, contrasting sharply with the harshness of his surroundings."So, he was just fourteen when he arrived here alone?"I pondered aloud, a wave of empathy washing over me for the boy who had faced formidable challenges at such a tender age.
Yes, it seems that way, she confirmed, her eyes flickering uneasily between my face and Jungkook's, revealing a deep well of concern and compassion that resonated with my feelings.
He's younger than me, I thought, tightening my grip on the white shirt cradled in my hands. The fabric felt soft against my palms, but the thought of Jungkook in his current state filled me with an unsettling sadness.
What about his family? I ventured, hoping to uncover more about his past.
No one came to visit him. I guess he has no one, Naeun answered, her voice barely a whisper as if she was afraid to discuss the painful reality.
Or maybe they don't know where he is? The thought lingered in my mind, twisting my gut with sorrow and frustration.
Those piercing eyes, so vivid and intense, haunted my thoughts. How he looked at me during our first encounter felt surreal; it was as if he could see right through me, peering into the innermost corners of my mind. I was left wondering if, for just a fleeting instant, he had been aware of his surroundings before Naeun administered that drug to him. She had warned me not to delay the next dose, saying that if I did, things would only deteriorate. What had she meant by that?
"Ready?" The red-headed guard assigned to assist me on my first day greeted me with a warm smile, but the warmth felt laced with an unsettling tension before he took the key from my trembling fingers and unlocked the heavy cell door.
He stepped inside first, pushing the door open wider as he waited for me to follow him. My heart raced as I crossed the threshold, reminded of the task ahead. I needed to change Jungkook's shirt; his body was drenched in sweat from the relentless serum injected into him, necessitating a change of clothing twice daily. Additionally, I had to introduce the very serum into his bloodstream at dawn and dusk. The weight of responsibility felt heavy on my shoulders, stirring a cocktail of conflicting emotions within me. Why did I have to have such a weak heart?
As I entered the dimly lit cell, the atmosphere was tense. I knew handcuffs couldn't be used while changing his clothes, so the guards opted for a more secure method. They fitted a sturdy collar around his neck, attaching it to a chain that led to a heavy leather belt cinched tightly around his waist. The guard, vigilant and focused, grasped the two chains connected to the belt, ensuring they were taut and secure while we waited for the clotting process to conclude.
For my safety, he needed to exercise caution, remaining alert to any sudden movements or unpredictable behavior from Jungkook. However, despite the precautions in place, Jungkook remained eerily still. Since we first stepped inside the confined space of the cell, he hadn't shifted his weight or shown any signs of agitation; he climbed off the bed, his posture rigid and unyielding, as if he were a statue contemplating the silence surrounding him. The atmosphere was thick with anticipation as I wondered what thoughts might be spiraling in his mind.
"Hi, Jungkook. I came to change your shirt," I said softly, smiling. Our eyes met, and an unspoken understanding passed between us. Did he know what was coming? Was he aware of the distorted reality he was trapped in?
As I approached him, my steps faltered with uncertainty; I hesitated before lifting my hands to grasp the bottom hem of his shirt. I couldn't shake the trepidation that clung to me like a shadow. I had never been this close to someone like him—a criminal, a boy embroiled in a dark world. I had no idea why they had hired me, a 22-year-old girl devoid of experience, to undertake this daunting task.
My heart pounded furiously as I slowly lifted his shirt, my fingers brushing against his warm, toned skin. Despite the circumstances, I was struck by how well-defined his muscles were. I had heard rumors that he maintained his physique even when he wasn't sedated. It was both mesmerizing and daunting to be this close to him. The guard's presence only added an awkward layer to the experience; I felt exposed, like a raw nerve, and desperately wanted to retreat to a place of safety.
Jungkook lifted his arms cooperatively as I removed his shirt, his eyes fixed on me, unfathomably deep and unreadable. I couldn't help but feel captivated by the sight before me. He was stunning, undeniably attractive—the sort of beauty that could bewilder anyone. In that instant, the gravity of my situation faded, and the world outside this cage felt distant.
But he was dangerous. I had to remind myself of that repeatedly as the thrill of being so close to him threatened to cloud my judgment.
With adrenaline rushing through me, I hastily dressed him in the clean, white shirt, almost desperate to escape the intimate moment. My clumsiness echoed in the stillness, drawing a chuckle from the red-headed guard. I shot him a glance, my cheeks heating up in embarrassment.
"The last girl had the same look every time she came here," he said, laughter dancing in his voice before his expression transformed into a knowing smile.
"The look of a girl in heat," he added, a smirk stretching across his lips as he observed my reaction.
Heat? My mind raced with confusion and anger.
"It didn't end very well the last time, though. Sometimes love can be terrifying," he said, glancing over at Jungkook as his voice dropped an octave, thick with implication.
I could feel my cheeks burning. Was I looking at him that way? But heat? How dare he think he could categorize my feelings so dismissively! I shot him a glare, but his smirk only widened, with no hint of shame, as his gaze roamed over me, analyzing every detail with unabashed curiosity.
You have to be kidding me.
"You..." I began, ready to unleash my frustration, but he quickly cut me off.
"Kim Taehyung is the name."
Well... Kim Taehyung. After you've been off gallivanting, can you at least wash your mouth out? Because, honestly, it still reeks," I mumbled under my breath, trying to focus as I prepared the syringe, the metal gleaming under the fluorescent lights.
I glanced over at Taehyung, whose expression was annoyed and defiant. "And by the way? That collar around his neck is kind of unnecessary. Can you free him already? He doesn't belong here with us. He doesn't seem that menacing, do you think? So, what's the point of all this restraint?" I challenged, my voice rising slightly.
"I am doing my job. You focus on yours," he replied, gritting his teeth, irritation evident in his tone.
---
I let out a soft hiss of frustration, muttering a curse. Defeated, I sighed and redirected my attention back to Jungkook, who stood before me like an immovable statue. His presence was striking, making it hard to concentrate on the task. My cold fingers brushed against the warm skin of his neck, and as my pulse quickened, I stepped closer, positioning the needle just below the collar that constrained him.
My fingertips could feel the steady rhythm of his pulse, a tangible reminder of his vitality. A blush crept up my cheeks, betraying my thoughts as I allowed my gaze to wander over the flawless contours of his face. Too close, I reminded myself, but it wasn't easy to pull away. My eyes were fascinated by his rich, brown hair; I suddenly fought the urge to weave my fingers through those silky strands.
As I scrutinized every perfect detail of his features, my gaze lingered longer than necessary on his lower lip, plump and inviting, contrasting with his delicate, thinner upper lip. I was so engrossed in the mesmerizing details that I temporarily forgot the sterile needle I had just inserted into his neck.
A wave of discomfort began to wash over me, settling deep within my chest. It wasn't just unease; guilt seeped into my thoughts, heavy and persistent. I could feel a nagging sensation growing stronger, emerging from the depths of my conscience. It was as if a weight had anchored itself inside me, amplifying my sense of responsibility and remorse for something I couldn't define. Each passing moment made the feeling more acute, leaving me restless and troubled. It was him.
Even though he possessed an undeniable beauty that captivated everyone around him, I couldn't shake the guilt of staring at him so intently. His striking features, the light that caught his eyes, and the effortless grace in his movements mesmerized me, yet I felt a nagging discomfort for indulging in my admiration too freely.
Of course, I completely overlooked Taehyung, who stood silently observing the scene with raised eyebrows and an incredulous shake of his head. I caught a glimpse of him from the corner of my eye, but my attention was still fixated on Jungkook. As I began to administer the drug, I felt a thrill between knowing I was breaking some unseen rules and a sense of pride in my closeness to him.
With a playful smirk dancing on my lips, I bit down on my lip piercing, my eyes locking onto Taehyung's. "Well, it can't be helped; this guy over here is far too tempting compared to the rest," I teased, emphasizing my words with a wink before turning on my heel to leave the room.
As I walked away, I could sense Taehyung's reaction—his lips parted in surprise, his heart racing for unspoken reasons.
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