Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
taehyung sighs, looking at himself in the mirror, at the white cotton of his oversized shirt against honeyed skin and the thin gold jewellery placed on his wrists, neck and ears. he looks down at his left hand, at the engagement ring glinting softly under the light of the chandelier, and sips at his whiskey on the rocks. the ice within the glass noisy when tilted, and paired with his slow breathing taehyung invests in the moment, indulging himself.
he looks into the mirror again, at the sight of his ex-husband laying on the bed not too far away from him. he's half dressed, wearing pyjama pants and nothing on his top half but the torn remains of his shirt. if you looked past the bruising, the blood and the way his mouth was parted as if in pain, he might look as if he was laying on his bed, waiting for somebody to join him for sex—implied by the fact that his hands are bound to the bed with handcuffs, leaving himself open for the taking, and taehyung definitely took.
"you were such a sweetheart," he says now, walking on top of the prussian rug that was speckled with heejoon's blood and broken glass, towards the man, "never saying 'no' to what i want, gifting me so many gifts on our first anniversary and gushing about how gorgeous i was. honestly, i would've loved to have you breathing for one more month—i really wanted to go on that trip to thailand with you—but i got tired. i got tired of eating bacon, or beef, or whatever you eat. i prefer my meat, not animal but," taehyung hums, his fingertips languidly trailing down to heejoon's chest, to where his heart would have laid, "human."
licking his lips, taehyung runs his fingertips over the wound that he'd made with his talons a couple of hour ago, over the blood that had poured out, now dried and darkened on his shirt.
"it's nothing personal, don't worry. i've eaten most of my husbands' hearts; you're the 19,456th," the boy tells him, "i have to say though; you had one of the nicest hearts i've had. very red and not much fat. 10/10 would recommend. you were one of the nicest husbands as well, would have been the best if you were good in bed—oh, don't give me that look. you know i never got hard." taehyung tuts, pushing heejoon's head away so his glazed and half-dead eyes wouldn't be on him. he draws his hand away, sighing.