jangmi (장미) ● taejoon

t h i r t y s e v e n .

  Namjoon's eyes frantically opened, and he jolted up. His shoulder yanked back, he looked at his side to see he was handcuffed to a bedpost. He yanked his wrist again, feeling better than before.

He threw the blanket off his body, trying his best to turn his body around and break off the wooden piece he was cuffed to. Reassuringly to him, someone put pajama pants on him. His body tense when pain shot up from his thigh, he let out a loud yelp that could startle someone.

The window curtains were pulled back, and sunlight lit the room. Namjoon believed it was morning, and he could hear feet patter against the floor outside the room.

He observed his surroundings - this place was nothing he ever saw before. The bed was too comfy, too comfy it was concerning (Namjoon never got a full good sleep on the mattress he owned). The duvet was thick, warm, he didn't feel cold. A vase full of real flowers near the window, a gigantic closet in front of him, and the way the colors were themed - modern. It was nothing like his house or Seokjin. This was a millionaire's room.

The door was creaked open, and a cart was reeled in by a familiar man. Namjoon glared almost instantly.

Taehyung has changed into a pair of pajamas as well. A robe over his naked chest again. "Keep it down, will you?" he tsked, closing he door behind him and locking it.

"... What- What is this?" Namjoon asks, "Where are we? Why is there-"

Taehyung wheeled the cart beside the bed, running his fingers through his messy hair. "You passed out on me, I told you I wasn't done with you."

"... What's in the cart? Poison? You're going chop me up? I'm sick of these handcuffs!"

Taehyung frowned, crossing his arms. "I need to make sure you're not a harm to anybody here."

Namjoon scoffed, yanking his hurting wrist. "... What's in the cart?"

"Food," Taehyung says, "Doc saved you from bleeding to death, and she said I have to save you for starving to death."

"I'm not hungry," Namjoon snapped, turning away.

Taehyung took the silver cover off one of the platters on the cart, revealing a freshly cooked meal made by one of the maids. "You have the figure of a twig. Certainly your significant other isn't a tree hugger."

"Ha ha," Namjoon rolled eyes, not bothering to look at the man. "Don't talk to me."

"Don't make me handcuff your other hand," Taehyung sighed. "I'd appreciate if you just ate."

Namjoon shook his head. "... I don't need your food- h-hey!"

Taehyung decided to take matters into his own hands. Cuffing Namjoon's other hand, and sitting himself on top of Namjoon's legs so he wouldn't thrash around. He grabs the plate and a fork.

Namjoon cried out.

"How many goddamn handcuffs do you have?!"

[unedited]