✅(JINKOOK+TAEJIN)❤️ 2nd Book(completed)

continuous Bloody Love🔴-7

The sight of the dance teacher’s lips on Jin’s neck ignited a white-hot fury in Jungkook. He didn’t think, didn’t hesitate. A guttural roar ripped from his throat as he lunged across the room, a whirlwind of raw, untamed rage.
His fist connected with the teacher’s jaw with a sickening crack, sending the man stumbling backward, a look of stunned surprise and dawning fear replacing his earlier lecherous expression. Jungkook was on him in an instant, a relentless storm of punches raining down. His anger was a physical force, each blow fueled by the terror he felt for Jin, the violation he had witnessed.

He pummeled the teacher’s face, his knuckles connecting with bone and flesh. The teacher cried out, his hands flailing uselessly in a desperate attempt to ward off the brutal assault. Jungkook’s eyes were black with fury, his usual gentle demeanor completely obliterated. He was a man possessed, driven by a primal need to protect what was his.

He slammed the teacher against the mirrored wall, the glass shuddering under the impact. Another punch landed squarely on the teacher’s nose, and blood spurted, painting the pristine white wall a gruesome red. The teacher’s struggles grew weaker, his whimpers of pain a stark contrast to Jungkook’s furious grunts.

Jungkook’s bandmates, who had been waiting in the car, heard the commotion and rushed back into the studio, their eyes widening in horror at the scene before them. They saw Jin lying motionless in a pool of blood and Jungkook, his face contorted with rage, mercilessly beating the dance teacher.
Namjoon, ever the leader, was the first to react. "Jungkook! Stop! You'll kill him!" He and Yoongi rushed forward, trying to pull Jungkook away, but the younger man was like a man possessed, his grip on the teacher unwavering, his fury seemingly boundless.

It took the combined strength of Namjoon and Yoongi to finally drag Jungkook away from the bloodied and unconscious dance teacher, their own hands stained with the man's blood. Jungkook stood there, chest heaving, his body trembling with the aftermath of his violent outburst, his gaze still fixed on the unmoving form on the floor, a silent testament to the fierce, protective love that had erupted within him....

.

The adrenaline that had fueled Jungkook's rage began to subside, replaced by a chilling wave of fear. He looked down at Jin, still and pale in the pool of his own blood, and a terrifying realization crashed over him. He had to get Jin help, and fast.
Ignoring the protests of the other members, who were still trying to process the brutal scene, Jungkook gently knelt beside Jin. His hands, still trembling, carefully cradled Jin's head, mindful of the bloodied wound. He whispered Jin's name, his voice thick with panic, but there was no response.
With a strength born of desperation, Jungkook carefully scooped Jin up into his arms, cradling him close to his chest. Jin's limp body felt fragile and terrifyingly light. The sight of the blood staining his own hands sent a fresh wave of fear through him.
"Call an ambulance! Now!" Jungkook barked at the other members, his voice raw with urgency. He didn't wait for a response, turning and striding quickly out of the dance studio, Jin's lifeless form held tightly against him.

He rushed through the hallways, his heart pounding in his chest, each step a desperate plea for time. He could feel the warmth draining from Jin's body, and the silence emanating from him was deafening. He reached the waiting car, carefully placing Jin in the back seat, his hands hovering protectively.

The ride to the hospital was a blur of frantic prayers and whispered reassurances. Jungkook kept his gaze fixed on Jin's pale face, willing him to breathe, willing him to open his eyes. The image of the dance teacher hovering over Jin, the sight of the blood on the floor – it all replayed in his mind, fueling his guilt and his terror. He had been so consumed by his own anger and hurt that he hadn't been there to protect Jin.

Now, all that mattered was getting Jin the help he desperately needed. His cold indifference had vanished, replaced by a raw, agonizing fear of losing the man he had unknowingly come to care for, the man he had, in his own twisted way, vowed to protect.

.

The emergency room was a whirlwind of frantic activity. Doctors and nurses swarmed around Jin, their movements efficient and urgent. An oxygen mask was gently placed over Jin's mouth and nose, the clear plastic fogging with his shallow breaths. A nurse carefully inserted a cannula into a vein in Jin's wrist, attaching it to an IV drip.

Jungkook stood frozen just inside the doorway, his eyes fixed on Jin's still form, a knot of fear tightening in his chest. He desperately wanted to be closer, to hold Jin's hand, but the medical team was a human shield, keeping him at bay.

A doctor, his face etched with concern, turned to Jungkook. "Who are you?" he asked, his tone sharp but focused.

Jungkook hesitated, his mind racing. What am I to him? His husband? A forced one. His tormentor, in a way. The reason he was even in that studio so late. He stammered, unable to find the right words. "I am his..."

Before Jungkook could formulate a response, Jimin stepped forward, placing a reassuring hand on Jungkook's arm. "We are bandmates, Doctor. Jin-hyung is a part of BTS."

The doctor nodded curtly, his gaze unwavering. "Yes, we are aware of BTS's prominence. However, this is not the time for celebrity. We have a critically injured patient here, and we need space to work. Just because you are BTS doesn't grant you special privileges in an emergency room. Please wait outside." His tone was firm, brooking no argument. He gestured towards the door, his attention already back on Jin.

Jungkook's shoulders slumped. He understood. This wasn't about fame or status; it was about saving Jin's life. With a heavy heart, he allowed Jimin to gently guide him out of the room, his eyes never leaving Jin's still form until the door swung shut, cutting off his view.

The sterile hallway felt cold and isolating, amplifying the fear and guilt that gnawed at him. All he could do now was wait, his fate and perhaps Jin's hanging precariously in the hands of the medical professionals.