TASTE | KTH

fixated

"—ra? Earth to Yura?"

Yura tunes back in to the conversation at the sound of her name. Taehyung's espresso colored eyes are boring into her, and in any other situation she would have been flustered by the intensity of his gaze, but she's too focused on trying to see if she remembers any of what Taehyung just said. She doesn't recall exactly when she zoned out, but all she does know is that the second she checked out of the conversation, the night before started to replay in her head, much too vividly for her comfort. The smell of alcohol on his breath, the cool contrast of his metal ring as his fiery fingers squeezed her neck. The way the blood from her nose dripped slowly to her mouth and all she could taste was iron. The thought makes her shiver.

"Sorry, I...I was just thinking." She says, which isn't a complete lie. Taehyung looks mildly annoyed, which she isn't surprised by. She would be annoyed with herself if she were him, too.

Taehyung in fact, is annoyed with Li Yura. She's supposed to be one of the best interns the department can offer to tackle this tip line, but she's
staring off into space every other sentence. His soulmate is on the line here, and, given, she doesn't know that, but still. He can't help but be impatient. He doesn't know if he can bear a sixth time where he tastes blood in his mouth and just knows that his soulmate is hurting somewhere unreachable for him. He knows if Jimin were here, he would tell him to stop fixating so intensely. He knows he has a habit of getting his mind set on something and only being able to focus on that one thing, but in this situation, he feels that it's justified.

"It's okay." Taehyung says, trying to channel Jimin's seemingly never ending supply of patience. "So, as I was saying, we have two phones set up. They'll both connect to the same conversation, but only one will be able to used to talk to the victims. The other will be used for the person not talking to transcribe or write down any important information on the victims." He explains for the second time, and Yura nods. At this point, she doesn't care. He's the expert, so she's not too concerned about her own opinion. "Would you like to be the one talking or the one transcribing?"

"I'll be the one talking, I think. Assault victims tend to feel more comfortable speaking to women than men." She says, and Taehyung nods, happy that Yura finally seems invested. "Is the number public?"

"Yep, Namjoon—I mean, Officer Kim had is broadcasted on the news and published in the paper." Taehyung says, and Yura noda.

"So, now we wait." She says.

"Now we wait." Taehyung nods, crossing his arms over his broad chest and leaning back in his chair. They sit for fifteen minutes in silence, staring at the phones. Yura wasn't a very talkative person, Taehyung observes. All he knows is that if Yura's lack of attentiveness doesn't kill him, sitting here in silence waiting for the phones to ring will. So he does what Jimin would do and makes small talk. "So," he starts, and Yura jumps, startled by the sound of his voice. "Uh, how long have you been at the department?"

"Um, about nine months, I think." She says, and Taehyung hums in understanding. He offers her a megawatt smile, and she can already tell that the man must be a huge success with the ladies. Or the men. Or the ladies and the men. He has a charming air about him that Yura has a feeling could make anyone do whatever he wants.

"That's pretty cool. Why'd you choose to pursue this?" He asks. Yura grits her teeth, wanting no part of this conversation.

"I want to help people." She deadpans, and Taehyung's smile dims a bit. Inside, he's considering banging his head against the wall. Why is she so...dry? She's not socially awkward, because what she does say, she says with conviction. So why does she sound so...uninterested?

"Right. A valid reason. An, um, admirable reason." Taehyung stammers awkwardly. The charm from before is tempered by slight discomfort, and Yura almost smiles. Her off putting answers are making the suavest man she's ever seen awkward, and it's kind of amusing.

"What about you?"

"Me?"

"Yeah, you. Why do you do what you do?" She asks, hazel eyes analytical as they glance up at him for the first time in their conversation. Taehyung's first instinct is to let his generic response whenever most people ask him why he became a food critic roll off his tongue: because he loves food. But he manages to catch himself before he lets it slip, opting for:

"Pretty much the same reason as you. I like helping people."

"But, specializing in an area like this? Doesn't it bother you? Seeing people hurt?" She says, and Taehyung squirms uncomfortably in his seat. Why does this feel like an interrogation all of a sudden?

"Uh, no. Because you see hurt people, but you also take the hurt people and make them safe again." He says sincerely, and at this, Yura feels a little guilty. Taehyung really is just trying to help people, and here she is, using him for entertainment when he's just trying to befriend her.

"That's a really good reason. Seriously." She says, and for once, there's something other than cynicism in her hazel eyes. Taehyung is surprised by the switch in demeanor, how she went from indifferent to genuine in a matter of seconds. "I'm glad you're here. We need people like you." She says, and realizes what she's done—grouped herself in with the victims. Scrambling, she adds, "At the department, I mean." Taehyung nods with a soft hum, making eye contact with Yura for what feels like the first time, since there's no ulterior emotions clouding their judgement.

She's pretty, he comes to realize. Smooth skin, silky looking hair, and entrancing eyes framed by dark lashes. Her lips are slightly chapped, but tinted a soft pink, and he can't help but wonder what they would feel like beneath his own—

Whoa! Absolutely not. Taehyung averts his eyes then after realizing what he's done. He's supposed to be finding his soulmate and saving them, not thirsting over the attractive yet enigmatic intern.

Both he and Yura jump when the phone begins to ring. Exchanging glances, they each pick up their respective receiver and raise them to their ears. Taehyung also takes up his pencil and fidgets nervously with it. With a nod to Yura, she answers.

"This is the Seoul Violence Hotline. Please state your name and how we can be of assistance today. This information is confidential, so be as transparent as you are comfortable with."

•••

"Are you sure you've got the night shifts? I can alternate with you." Yura offers, but Taehyung shakes his head.

"Don't worry. I've got it. Go home and get some rest." Taehyung insists. After their first call, the phone had hardly rung, and he's fairly certain he can handle the calls alone now. That, and he also would rather be alone once it's around 9 o'clock, the time of night when he always tastes metal.

"Taehyung, really, I don't mind staying—" She says, and tries to keep how she internally is begging him to stay out of her voice. The thought of going home
makes her knees weak and her hands tremble. The thought of seeing him is terrifying.

"No, really, Yura. It's okay." Taehyung assures her, oblivious. Any other person might have noticed her hesitancy to leave, but Taehyung is too fixated on thoughts of his soulmate to notice.

"Okay." Yura says quietly, accepting her fate. "Goodnight, Taehyung."

"G'night, Yura. I'll see you bright and early!" He teases, winking endearingly. Yura tries to smile, but it comes out as a grimace.

Taehyung has already looked back at the phones, and doesn't notice.