Our Past Lives ( Taekook)
Episode 3: A Heart Left Unseen
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Taehyung took a shaky breath as he finished dressing the last of his wounds. Each bruise and scrape burned, but he swallowed the pain, forcing himself up. There was no time to rest, no time to linger in the quiet suffering of this tiny room. He had a house to tend to, a list of chores that never ended. While servants roamed the house freely, basking in luxuries he was never granted, it was his task to make sure every corner shone, every inch of the estate immaculate.
He moved quietly, his footsteps a whisper against the cold floor as he worked. With each scrub of the mop, each sweep of the duster, he pushed down the bitterness that threatened to rise, burying it beneath layers of forced smiles and empty endurance. Every room he cleaned seemed to mock him, reminding him of the life he could have had if anyone had cared enough to see him.
Hours passed in a blur, his muscles aching from scrubbing floors, dusting shelves, trimming the garden, and tidying every forgotten corner of the estate. He had been doing this for so long, it was as if his hands had memorized each crack, each flaw in the house, places he’d tended to a thousand times without anyone ever noticing.
By the time he had finished, the sky was already darkening, streaks of deep blue and gray blending as the evening settled in. His stomach rumbled, a reminder that he hadn’t eaten since dawn, but he pushed it aside. There was dinner to prepare, and he had to be quick. He couldn’t risk anyone returning to find a meal unfinished — he knew too well the punishments that came with such "failures."
As he moved to the kitchen, he heard the familiar rumble of car wheels on gravel, the sound that always sent a pang through his heart. His children. He knew it would be his children arriving first; they were always home before anyone else. His heart fluttered with a mix of hope and dread, and he quickly wiped his hands, rushing to the front door to greet them.
Yet as he neared the doorway, his movements slowed. He felt the familiar weight of emptiness settle over him. This was his chance — the moment he might see their faces light up, might hear them call him “Mother” or “Mom.” But that moment never came. He couldn’t even call them his sons.
He stood there, waiting, as the car doors opened, and his two boys stepped out, their young faces lit with life and energy. The ache in his heart grew, twisting painfully as he forced a small smile, lowering his head as they approached.
Kim taehyung (RO)
"Welcome home, young masters,"
He murmured, his voice soft, his words formal. He didn’t dare say anything more.
They barely looked his way, their laughter and chatter passing over him like he wasn’t even there. His heart ached as he stood aside, invisible once more. He longed, just once, to hear one of them call him “Mom” or acknowledge him with even a sliver of warmth. He had poured everything into them, these beautiful children who were half of him, whom he had carried and brought into this world.
But they saw him as nothing more than a servant, an invisible presence they didn’t even spare a second glance. To them, he was simply someone who prepared their meals, tidied their rooms, and cleaned up after them. He was their mother in every way that counted, yet he was not allowed to be a mother to them.
The pain was unbearable, a silent, throbbing agony that ate at his heart, leaving him feeling hollow. The most painful part of all was that he could never tell them how much he loved them, how much he longed to embrace them, to kiss their foreheads and call them his sons. He couldn’t show them the part of him that lived and breathed just for them. Every sacrifice, every tear he swallowed, was for their sake — but he could never tell them that.
As they walked past him, laughing and chattering about their day, he remained rooted in place, his heartbreaking silently. He forced himself to turn back to the kitchen, focusing on the tasks that awaited him, each movement a distraction from the gnawing ache inside him.
What was the purpose of it all, he wondered as he stirred the soup pot, his gaze distant and unfocused. What was the point of enduring if the love he gave was never returned, if he was fated to be nothing more than a shadow in the lives of the very children he cherished?
Tears stung his eyes, but he blinked them away. He had grown skilled at burying his pain beneath a forced calm, of hiding the brokenness inside him so that no one would see how deeply he was hurting.
But tonight, as he prepared dinner, the weight of it felt unbearable. He wanted, just once, to be seen. To be acknowledged. To be loved.
But in this house, where he was nothing more than a silent servant, he knew that was a wish that would forever remain unfulfilled.
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Comments
mika0613
children's will be most affected by their environment _
it's like it will mold them either in good way or bad ...
Almost 90% of kids are arrogant or bad becoz of this only _
2025-01-06
1
mika0613
💔 just leave them _
I know it's veryyyy difficult but still _
2025-01-06
1
crazytigerbunbunnie
you are literally a fcking pathetic maid😂
2024-11-30
0