Chapter 5: Beneath the Skin

The mansion was silent that morning. No footsteps echoed through the halls. No commands barked through the speaker system. Even the guards stationed outside Jungkook’s bedroom door seemed unusually still.

Taehyung sat up in bed, blinking against the low light. His body ached—bruises blooming across his ribs and wrists—but he was used to the pain now. It had become a second skin, just like the silence.

He reached to touch the collar at his throat. Cold metal. Too familiar.

He didn't cry anymore. The tears had dried up weeks ago. All that was left was numbness and memories—and something deeper… darker.

Resentment.

But even under the bitterness, there was confusion.

Why had Jungkook come to him last night not to punish, but to rest? Why did he hold him like a man starved of affection, murmuring nonsense against Taehyung’s hair?

"You're mine… you're all I have… don’t leave me again…"

It almost sounded like fear.

Jungkook stood alone in his private study, shirt unbuttoned, collar loose. He stared at the flames in the fireplace, jaw clenched, hands shaking.

Control.

He was losing it.

Not over the house. Not over the staff or Taehyung’s schedule. No—those things he could command with a snap of his fingers.

It was Taehyung himself that disturbed him.

Taehyung wasn’t breaking the way he should have.

Yes, he submitted. He obeyed. But it was mechanical. Detached. Cold. Jungkook didn’t want a puppet. He wanted Taehyung. The boy who had once laughed so freely, whose eyes used to sparkle with mischief. The boy who used to care.

He didn’t want just the body.

He wanted the soul.

And that terrified him.

Because for the first time, Jungkook realized something dangerous:

He wasn’t in control of his own obsession.

It was in control of him.

Taehyung was allowed into the garden that day.

It wasn’t mercy—it was strategy. Jungkook wanted to see how he behaved in the open space, how far his compliance had reached.

But Taehyung did something unexpected.

He picked a single white lily and tucked it behind his ear.

When Jungkook came to find him, the sight made him freeze.

Taehyung didn’t bow.

He didn’t kneel.

He stood there, head held high, white petals against his dark hair like a crown made of defiance.

“You’re supposed to ask permission before touching anything,” Jungkook said calmly.

Taehyung met his gaze. “Then punish me.”

Jungkook walked up to him slowly. Close enough to smell the garden on Taehyung’s skin.

But he didn’t raise his hand.

Instead, he reached up and gently removed the lily from Taehyung’s ear. His fingers brushed against his cheek, lingering a second too long.

“I won’t punish you today,” he said softly. “I want to remember this version of you.”

Taehyung narrowed his eyes. “Why?”

“Because… you remind me of someone I used to know.”

“For a man who’s taken everything from me, you sure sound sentimental.”

Jungkook smiled faintly. “That’s because I’ve given everything to you, too.”

Later that night, Taehyung couldn’t sleep.

The mansion was too quiet.

He sat by the window, watching rain streak down the glass, when Jungkook entered without a word. He didn’t demand anything. Didn’t drag him to the red room. He simply sat beside him.

And handed him a cup of warm tea.

Taehyung stared at it.

“Drink,” Jungkook said.

“Afraid I’ll poison myself?”

“I had it made myself. You’ll be fine.”

Taehyung sipped slowly. The warmth was strange after weeks of cold, metallic water and silent meals.

Jungkook’s gaze never left him.

“I didn’t expect this from you,” Taehyung muttered.

“Expect what?”

“This… softness. You’ve always been cruel.”

Jungkook leaned back, closing his eyes. “I’m not cruel. I’m desperate.”

Taehyung swallowed hard. “That’s not love.”