Where Love Finds Its Way -2

“Jiwoo, stay back,” Taehyung whispered urgently, his voice tight with fear. His arms were steady as he cradled the young woman in his embrace, her blood staining his shirt. Her face was pale, her breathing shallow. His heart raced, the weight of uncertainty pressing down on him. He didn’t know who she was or how she’d ended up in this state, but the desperation in her eyes told him that he couldn’t let her die here.

“Hold on, miss,” he murmured softly, his thumb brushing against her cold, clammy skin as he checked her pulse. It was faint, but still there. She wasn’t gone yet. He wasn’t going to let her be.

Jiwoo, despite her tender age of thirteen, was sharp and quick-thinking. Her small brow furrowed in concern as she glanced at the woman in Taehyung's arms. “Brother, she’s losing too much blood. We need to get her to the healer right away! She’s in no condition to survive without help.”

Taehyung’s gaze met Jiwoo’s—her wide eyes filled with worry—and for a moment, the weight of his responsibility as her older brother settled like a heavy cloak on his shoulders. With a firm nod, he gripped the woman’s limp form tighter and turned toward the village, his every muscle straining as he sprinted through the dense forest.

The village was just beyond the trees, but the closer they got, the more Taehyung feared the worst. The woman was unconscious, and the blood soaked her clothes, a silent witness to whatever attack she had endured. His breath quickened, his mind racing for answers, but there was no time for that now. He could hear the faint sounds of the village—dogs barking, children playing—but it felt like it was miles away.

When they finally reached the small cluster of cottages, Taehyung kicked open the door to the healer’s hut without knocking. Inside, the old woman looked up from her work, her wrinkled face twisting into a frown as she saw the state of the young woman in his arms.

“What happened to her?” the healer demanded, immediately stepping forward to assess the situation.

“I don’t know,” Taehyung replied breathlessly, his eyes never leaving the woman’s face. “But she’s still alive. Please, do what you can.”

The healer didn’t waste time with questions. She ushered Taehyung to the center of the room, her weathered hands moving with surprising speed as she prepared herbs and bandages. Jiwoo, ever the eager assistant, quickly helped the healer prepare a poultice to staunch the bleeding, her young face set in a determined expression.

As the healer worked her magic, Taehyung stood silently at her side, his thoughts swirling. He had to know who this girl was and how she had come to be in such a dire state. But more than anything, he needed her to survive.

The days that followed were heavy with uncertainty. The woman, who they soon discovered was named Jungkook, lay unconscious, her body bruised and broken from the fall. The healer tended to her with unwavering dedication, skillfully bandaging her wounds and offering what comfort she could, hoping her strength would return with time.

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