Chapter 7: Élan

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“I can sleep. I just choose not to, for I’ve fallen in love with the way my mind plays in the dark night with thoughts of you.” (Mustafa Tattan)

Taehyung could not sleep. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t bring himself to close his eyes and relax. He was actually feeling the exact opposite of relaxed: his heart beating fast and feeling more self-conscious than ever.

Jungkook had dozed off the minute his head hit the pillow and had some how found his way into the leader’s arms. His head currently laid on top of the elder’s chest as he snored softly, completely unaware of the tension the other was feeling.

Should I move? V pondered, noticing how his right arm had now fallen asleep due to Jungkook’s weight crushing it. No, that would definitely wake him.

It had to be two am in the morning, but his eyes were wide awake, his body still to make sure he didn’t disturb Jungkook. Even if his whole body was numb, he didn’t want to wake him up.

His eyes slowly began to move downward from the ceiling to Jungkook, noticing the how his arms were huddled close to him, splayed perfectly across Taehyung’s chest. One of the younger’s hand was placed right on top of his heart, and it seemed to warm up his whole body in the winter night. Both of them weren’t wearing shirts, and Taehyung knew that if the spy were to wake, he would be able to feel his heart pounding. The thud of his heart was the only noise in the dead silence, but the only thing Taehyung could think of was Jungkook.

The boy seemed like he didn’t know how cute he was. How hot he was. Everything he did was a sin, yet a piece of heaven at the same time. Taehyung would always notice the way dimples popped out whenever he smiled or the fact that whenever he was pissed, he would bite his lip in frustration to prevent him from opening up his smart mouth. Even when Jungkook rolled his eyes behind Taehyung’s back, he noticed and would smile unconsciously.

The mafia leader noticed every little thing he did, and it bothered him that Jungkook was almost the only thing running in his mind besides work. He was a beautiful distraction from the pain and the stress. North End was constantly taking client assassinations, and each one of them needed to be dealt with correctly, and it paid a toll on Taehyung.

The moment he was born, his fate had already been sealed. He started training, as little as four years old from his strict and cruel father. He was destined to take his place once he retired or died. At the young age of twenty, an assassination ring was handed to him due to the murder of his dad. He dealt with everything and had developed a huge wall, blocking out any emotion.

He had to.

Taehyung was the cause of the death of people daily, and if he was weak, other mafia groups would take advantage, his subordinates would lose respect, and he would destroy everything his family had built in the past two generations.

He couldn’t feel any emotional connection to anyone -- mostly because he forced himself not to -- until the moment a ragged young boy came staggering into his throne room, hair messed up and kneeling right in front of him as he pleaded to be let go. Then, as Taehyung learned more about Jungkook’s past, and who he was as a person, his walls unconsciously began to crumble down in front of him.

Taehyung always thought about everything before going head first into anything. Every move, every detail was planned out precisely, leaving no room for error. But when he met the black haired boy, he seemed to cannonball into the deep end without even thinking.

And he never did that. Ever.

XXX

Taehyung forced himself to relax as he realized that Jungkook was a deep sleeper, and wouldn’t be woken up easily unless the boy was told the world was ending. The leader was running his hand through his hair, a small smile painted on his lips. Jungkook every once in awhile would shift a little, causing Taehyung to practically shit his pants in fright. But soon after, the scarlet haired man would relax after hearing the small snores continue on through the night. The mafia leader could watch Jungkook for hours, slowly tangling his fingers in Jungkook’s hair as he painted the image of the younger’s face into his mind.

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