Get ready to join the battle in "Save Me," where a woman tired of running decides it's time to face her demons. In this tale of grit and redemption, she enlists the help of Jeon Jungkook, a formidable underground fighter. As he imparts the art of se...
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Jungkook's fists pounded relentlessly against the punching bag, his mind consumed by a maelstrom of emotions. Each strike he delivered carried the weight of his frustration, his anger, and his overpowering protectiveness towards y/n.
Thoughts of her suffering at the hands of Yoongi fueled the fire within him, igniting a potent mix of rage, protectiveness, and possessiveness.
As sweat poured down his brow, Jungkook's muscles burned, but he paid no mind to the physical strain. The pain was nothing compared to the turmoil in his heart.
He had never experienced such complex emotions before. The intensity scared him, yet it made him feel undeniably alive, reminding him of his own humanity.
But there was a conflict within him. A part of him longed for y/n to stay, to be by his side. He craved her presence, her touch, and the connection they had formed. However, another part of him, the rational side, knew that he had to push her away.
His life was dangerous, and he couldn't bear the thought of her getting caught in the crossfire. He had to protect her, even if it meant sacrificing his own happiness.
With each punch he landed on the bag, Jungkook's thoughts swirled, tangled in a web of conflicting desires. The sound of his fists colliding with the material reverberated through the empty room, a symphony of his inner turmoil.
He questioned himself, wondering why he felt so empty when he had made this choice before. He had pushed people away to keep them safe, but this time it felt different. It felt like he was losing a part of himself, a part he wasn't sure he could live without.
The rhythm of his punches began to slow, his movements becoming more measured as the weight of his emotions settled upon his shoulders.
Beads of sweat dripped from his brow, mingling with the drops of uncertainty that clouded his mind. He knew he couldn't ignore his feelings for y/n, but he also couldn't ignore the danger that lurked in his world.
As he finally brought his fists to a halt, he stood there in the dimly lit room, his chest heaving with exertion and his heart heavy with conflict. The room was suffocating, filled with the weight of his indecision.
***
As the sound of his fists striking the bag echoed through the room, a chilling presence crept up on Jungkook, causing the hairs on the back of his neck to stand on end.
Slowly, he turned around, his eyes narrowing as he took in the sight of a group of fighters, their smirks indicating their malicious intent. There were approximately ten to twelve of them, their muscles tense and their eyes filled with anticipation.
Among the group, Namjoon and Yoongi emerged, making their way through the crowd with a certain air of confidence. Namjoon's lips curled into a wicked smile, a testament to the amusement he derived from power games.
