𝓐𝓷𝓰𝓮𝓵 𝓸𝓯 𝓓𝓮𝓪𝓽𝓱

ⓒⓗⓐⓟⓣⓔⓡ ⓣⓦⓔⓝⓣⓨⓔⓘⓖⓗⓣ

He took a sip of the coffee, grimacing at the bitter taste. He had stopped drinking coffee when Taehyung had left. Staying awake was too painful and he had spent most of his days sleeping; hence why he had stopped drinking it. He had turned to alcohol, his long lost confidant and friend, to forget about everything and black out as often as he could. The alcohol made him feel warm and fuzzy, the way Taehyung had made him feel so many times before.

The most painful part was the physical absence of Taehyung. They had shared such an unbelievable physical bond together, and when he had left, it was as if Jungkook had lost a limb. Nothing felt right nor comfortable. Not feeling Taehyung’s hands on his body, his lips on his had driven him insane. He had went on to clubs completely drunk, looking for another pair that would fill the hole in his heart. He never went back home with anyone, as they were not him. He yearned for only his lips, his touch, his love. No one else could possibly satisfy him.

She brushed the tear off of his cheek with her thumb, tears filling her own eyes. She wished she could take all of his pain for him, that she could make it all go away. She felt useless and helpless, a feeling too familiar to her. She wiped the sides of her eyes, clearing her throat, and straightened up as a customer asked for her at his table.

“Eat up before it gets cold,” she said softly to Jungkook, pushing the plate closer to him.

He picked up the fork and stabbed the pancakes with it, slowly, watching as the four little dots multiplied all over its golden surface. He swallowed when the gesture reminded him of Taehyung, of how he would mark his victims in the most bewitching way. He had never thought he would fall so deep for someone he would turn into them. Or maybe was it that he had been like this all along, and Taehyung had only made it resurface?

His first official victim had been a week earlier. He had done the exact same as Taehyung would have. He picked out his vulnerable target and lured them out of the bar. He had brought the woman back to their place, trying not to freak out when she brushed her hands on his body; across his chest, up his thigh, on his crotch. Wrong. It had felt so wrong. Only Taehyung could touch him like that. No one else. Her touch made him sick.

He enjoyed the look on her face when she realised what would happen, just like Taehyung had told him how fascinated he was with that one single expression. He had never truly understood until then. The woman was half his size, it had been terribly easy to drag her into the bathroom, where her morbid death awaited. He had tied her wrists to the hook, her ankles to the rings on the floor; just like Taehyung had done the first time Jungkook had witnessed one of his kills. He had laid out the knives, mimicking his lover’s actions precisely and orderly.

He had ripped the woman’s red dress off, uncovering her frail, pale skin. She was crying, screaming. Jungkook put a lock of her blond hair behind her ear, his fingers brushing against her soft flesh. He had started off slowly, teasing at her skin with the sharpened blade. Just enough to draw a little blood. After a couple of cuts she had gotten annoyingly loud, so Jungkook had taped her lips. He needed to focus, to concentrate, to recreate his partner’s art. He could feel him, as if he were right there in the room with him, watching over him.

He was surprised at how much he enjoyed doing it. He knew he had liked to watch, but performing the act was a completely different feeling. He felt in control, contrary to how he had been his whole life. He was used to being controlled by everyone around him. Now that the tables had turned, he relinquished in the powerful, new feeling. Every cut made him want more.

The memory of Taehyung through this scene had turned his feelings into something darker. His soft cuts turned into rough stabs, blood splattering all across the room. With every blow he was reminded of him; his smile, his eyes, the sound of his voice, his scent, the feeling of his skin… Before he knew it, the woman was dead. He could barely make up what was left of her body. He had sloppily butchered her. Nothing like Taehyung would have done.