Episode 3

Episode Three: The Architect of Obsession

Jungkook’s wrists ached, but the pain was the least of his concerns.

Taehyung sat across from him, sipping wine as if this was nothing more than a casual conversation between two old friends. His dark eyes glowed with something unreadable, something dangerous.

Jungkook had spent weeks believing he was the one watching Taehyung from the shadows. But now, bound and helpless in this sleek penthouse, he was beginning to realize the terrifying truth.

He had never been the predator. He had been the prey all along.

Taehyung swirled his glass lazily before setting it down, then leaned forward, resting his chin on his palm as he gazed at Jungkook with quiet amusement.

"Do you really think this started when you decided to follow me?" His voice was smooth, almost teasing.

Jungkook’s fingers curled into fists. "What are you talking about?"

Taehyung’s lips curved into something wicked.

"I set this up long before you even knew my name."

Jungkook’s blood ran cold. "Bullshit."

Taehyung chuckled, reaching into his coat pocket. With deliberate slowness, he pulled out a small black notebook and tossed it onto the table between them.

Jungkook’s stomach twisted.

"I wonder," Taehyung mused, watching Jungkook’s reaction, "how much you really remember about the first time we met."

Jungkook hesitated before slowly opening the notebook with his cuffed hands. His eyes widened as he flipped through the pages.

Dates. Locations. Notes, even pictures.

About him.

The exact cafés he frequented, the routes he took home, the times he spent at the gym. Scribbled details about his habits, his schedule, the way he absentmindedly bit his lip when deep in thought.

Jungkook’s breath hitched.

Taehyung had been watching him.

For years.

Jungkook’s hands trembled as he snapped his gaze back to Taehyung. "What the hell is this?"

Taehyung leaned back, his smirk never fading. "A record," he said simply. "Of my obsession with you."

Jungkook felt like the air had been knocked from his lungs. "You’re lying," he spat, but his voice wavered.

Taehyung tilted his head. "Am I?"

Jungkook’s mind raced, memories flashing back—things that once seemed insignificant now making horrifying sense.

The stranger who had bumped into him three years ago outside his apartment. The way he sometimes felt eyes on him but could never prove it. The one time he had lost his phone for a day, only for it to be mysteriously returned with no explanation.

It had been Taehyung.

It had always been Taehyung.

Jungkook’s throat was dry. "Why?" he whispered.

Taehyung leaned forward again, closing the distance between them. His fingers brushed against Jungkook’s cheek, featherlight, sending a shiver down his spine.

"Because you’re mine," Taehyung murmured. "You just didn’t know it yet."

Jungkook’s pulse pounded in his ears, his breath uneven. Every warning inside him screamed to resist, to fight.

But deep down, another realization sank in, terrifying and intoxicating all at once.

He had spent weeks chasing Taehyung, desperate to understand him.

But Taehyung had been waiting for him to catch up.

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