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Taehyung's POV
I leave a small and slow kiss on your parted lips as I stand, moving my body away from yours.
As I straighten myself I hear a soft whimper leave you as if the disappearance of my warmth from you tortures you and something ignites in my guts, a flicker I tried and tried to push away.
Who was I fooling?
I try to replace it with my usual nonchalant sentiment to feed my oversized ego but in vain.
Despite your whimper I walk away from you and over to my equipment. I take hold of the camera I used last night and inspect it but my mind is miles away, it's a few seconds earlier, when that whimper escaped you, after I had just kissed you and parted, right there.
Rewind, play, and pause, yes, that whimper, that one.
Very soon you wouldn't be able to live without my touch on you, without my lips pressed to yours, you wouldn't be able to live without me.
It's what I wanted but why did I feel the need to keep a secure eye on you as if you'd be swept off your feet at any second?
I knew Jungkook wasn't going to play fair but maybe it was the twisted side of my head that was trying to lessen the guilt in my stomach by convincing me that the others were going to use the same manipulative tactics as me to have you.
Have you?
I still didn't know what I wanted you for, all I knew was that I couldn't let them have you, no, you woke things in me that I didn't understand and I hated it.
You were questioning me earlier and I hated it.
You wanted to talk, hold my hand and listen to me rant about the demons I held caged in the inner depths of my mind, the demons that bite me in the chest whenever I see you.
You want me to open up, to talk and talk and talk and talk about how sick in the head I am, about how my past experiences have only made me sicker and sicker and that with every day that comes I only get sicker, crueler and meaner.
But something you were about to learn about me was that I don't do the talking business.
I don't do half the things I've done with you, that little vanilla sex was not what I was about and my demons were craving for a little bit of pain .
I don't open up about my demons no matter how they lunge at my throat, clawing at my skin begging to be spoken about.
I never speak of them nor do I want to and that soft welcoming gaze in your fucking eyes wasn't going to make me do it.
You needed to understand that it was taking a lot in me not to tie your hands together and shove a cloth into your pretty and feisty mouth as I watch the drool slip down your chin and neck right between your breast, your beautiful brown eyes wide with fear as I beat the crap out of you till you beg me to release you, until you cried, hot warm tears running down your cheeks...
