Jimin pulled away from the embrace, his fingers trembling as they brushed against his tear-streaked cheeks. His throat felt tight, the lump of emotions still sitting heavy inside him.

"V-Venom..." His voice was softer now, laced with hesitation.

"Say it," she murmured, her fingers threading through his hair, her touch grounding him in a way he didn't expect.

He inhaled deeply, gathering the courage to ask what had been gnawing at him. "Jungkook... how is he?" His swollen eyes searched hers, filled with something raw—hope, fear, regret.

Venom's lips curved into a small, almost sad smile. "Just like you..." she said, brushing a stray lock from his forehead. "Hurting."

The moment the words left her lips, Jimin's face twisted in concern, panic flashing in his eyes. "H-Hurting?" His voice wavered. "Why?"

She let out a small chuckle, though there was no humor in it. She ruffled his hair, watching his distress unfold. "Is that even a question?"

"He- wh-where is he?" His voice cracked slightly, the worry bleeding through every syllable.

She studied him for a moment before sighing. "Where do you think he is, Jimin?" She tilted her head, her hazel eyes darkening. "Wallowing in the past. Carrying a weight he never expected to come crashing on top of him"

Jimin's fists clenched at his sides. "I need to see him."

She simply smiled, an infuriating curve of her lips that made Jimin's frustration spike.

"What?" he snapped, his patience thinning. "What are you waiting for now? Take me to him!"

She let out a slow breath, tilting her head as she observed him—this desperate, broken boy standing before her, shaking with emotions too heavy for his frame.

"You don't give me orders, Jimin" she said coolly, her voice laced with something unreadable. "And Jungkook... isn't in a good condition right now."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean," She exhaled, standing to her full height, "he's not the Jungkook, he has shown you himself as."

His stomach twisted at her words. "He's hurt, isn't he?" His voice softened, the fire in his tone dimming into something vulnerable.

"More than you can imagine."

"Where is he, Venom?"

She took a step closer, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. "I'll take you to him," she said, voice steady. "But you better be ready for what you're about to see and handle, it could be a test of your love, Jimin. Be careful"

And with that, she turned on her heel, walking toward the black Lexus parked at the edge of the hill. Jimin followed, his pulse was a war drum in his ears.

The Lexus rolled to a slow stop into the Devil's Mansion premises. A chill ran up his spine as he took in the towering structure before him. The mansion loomed over him like a beast in the dark, its architecture laced with an eerie, almost suffocating presence. The black stone, the high-reaching spires, the heavy iron gates—it all felt too sinister, too overwhelming.

But what made his blood run cold were the strong-built men in black armed head to toe.

They were escorted to the doors of the mansion with security cars following close. A golden anaconda engraved in the gates watched them with its piercing eyes. Jimin felt like it followed him no matter which angle he viewed it from. The way it was carved in, poised to strike, sent an undeniable message—no one enters unscathed.

He swallowed hard as Venom drove through the gates, the heavy clang behind them sounding like a prison lock clicking into place. His fingers fidgeted restlessly in his lap as he darted glances around, his wide eyes betraying his fear.

The moment the car stopped, she stepped out smoothly, tossing the keys to a waiting service boy. Without looking back, she motioned for Jimin to follow. He hesitated but followed.

The air inside the mansion was thick with authority—hers. As they stepped through the grand entrance, every person in the hall immediately averted their eyes, standing stiff and still, as if her presence alone commanded silence.

Jimin felt suffocated. Despite everything, despite the fact that she had comforted him, assured him—even loved him—he still feared her. And maybe... maybe some part of him always would.

"Come on."

Her voice was softer now, pulling him from his thoughts. She stepped into a sleek black elevator, the walls glassy and reflective, showing a dim version of herself within.

Jimin hesitated before stepping inside, peeling his gaze from the deep red carpeting beneath his feet.

The doors slid shut. The elevator ascended.

"You have nothing to fear here, Jiminie, its home, our home" Her voice was gentle.

"I—I just..." He fumbled for words, but none felt right. A soft chime signaled their arrival. Venom turned to him, her golden eyes sharp yet unreadable.

"You have no reason to be afraid" she stated. "And from today onward, you'll be living here. I'll assign you to the Devil's medical quarters—you can send in your resignation to the hospital."

"Huh?" He turned to her in disbelief. "You're joking, right?"

She held his gaze, unwavering. "You're staying here, Park Jimin." Something cold settled in his chest. The air grew heavier.

"Am I clear?"

Her aura darkened, thick with something untouchable, unchallenged.

He clenched his jaw. He hated how easily she pushed him, how effortlessly she made decisions for him. But after stepping into this place—this world—he knew he had no room to argue.

His fingers curled into fists at his sides. "...Yes." It was the only answer he could give.

The hallway was silent, save for the faint echo of her fading footsteps. "The room on the far right is Jungkook's," she had told him, pressing a cold metal key into his palm. "Take this in case it's locked."

He nodded absentmindedly, his gaze flickering toward the west wing where she now disappeared into the darkness. A shiver ran down his spine. No wonder that part is so dim... It felt like a place where light never dared to reach.

Shaking off the unease, he turned toward Jungkook's door. His hand hovered over the knob before he twisted it slowly. The door creaked open, revealing a pitch-black room.

He hesitated.

Stepping inside, his foot suddenly crunched against something. Glass? His breath hitched, and he instinctively stepped back. Heart pounding, he ran his hand along the wall, fumbling for the switch.

A click. Light flooded the room, and his breath caught in his throat. It was trashed.

Furniture overturned, shattered glass littering the floor, and torn fabric strewn across the space. The scent of alcohol and something faintly metallic hung in the air. His eyes darted toward the king-sized bed—toward the figure curled up in the center.

"J-Jungkook?" Jimin whispered, his voice barely above a breath.

The lump on the bed didn't stir.

Panic surged through him as he hurried forward, reaching out to touch Jungkook's cheek—only to recoil at the heat radiating from his skin.

"Oh my God, you're burning up!" His hands trembled as he pressed his palm against Jungkook's forehead. Feverish. Burning. His heart clenched.

"J-Jimin..." Jungkook whimpered, his voice slurred and fragile, his lashes fluttering as his eyes moved beneath his lids.

The former's throat tightened. What have you done to yourself, Kook?

He grabbed the boy's hands, his stomach twisting at the sight of them—bruised knuckles, skin ripped open, dried blood staining the surface. He exhaled sharply, blinking back the sting in his eyes.

"Jungkook..."

Suddenly, the younger boy whimpered again, his fevered mind grasping onto something unseen. "J-Jimin... don't go... I promise... I'll never lie... I will never hide anything from you-" A fresh tear slipped down his temple, and something inside Jimin shattered.

He's like this because of me...? His hands trembled as he brushed the damp strands of hair from Jungkook's forehead.

"J-Jimin?"

The pink-haired male gasped softly as the former's heavy eyelids lifted, revealing glassy, unfocused brown eyes. The younger boy blinked rapidly, his gaze locking onto Jimin's face, disbelief flickering through his fever-clouded vision. Jungkook's shaky hand reached up, his fingertips grazing the boy's cheek. The touch was warm—too warm.

Jimin leaned into it, his own hand rising to cover Jungkook's, his fingers trembling as more tears slipped free.

"Yes, it's me."

Jungkook blinked again, his lips parting as if he wasn't sure if he was dreaming or awake. Then, in a sudden burst of desperate energy, he grabbed Jimin's face with both hands, pulling him forward.

Jimin let out a surprised gasp as he toppled onto the bed, Jungkook rolling on top of him in one swift movement. His fevered body trembled as he hovered over Jimin, eyes darting over his face, drinking in every detail.

"Jimin... it's really you? You... You are here, here with me" His voice wavered, thick with disbelief, with longing.

Jimin swallowed the lump in his throat, reaching up to cradle the younger's face between his warm palms. His thumbs brushed over the bruised skin, tracing the pain, the exhaustion, the regret written across Jungkook's features.

Then, without a word, he pulled him down and pressed their lips together.

Jungkook froze, a soft gasp escaping against the latter's mouth. But the warmth—the love—was unmistakable.

Even after everything. Even after the lies, the pain, the distance. Jimin still kissed him like he meant it. Like nothing had changed. Jungkook melted.

A choked sound left him as his hands tangled into Jimin's pink hair, gripping desperately, his lips parting as he deepened the kiss, as if afraid that if he let go, Jimin would disappear again.

"Jimin... I'm... I'm so sorry..." Jungkook whispered in between the kiss, his voice breaking. His body trembled, exhaustion pulling at his limbs, but he didn't want to stop. He didn't want to lose Jimin again.

Jimin silenced him, pressing closer, his fingers threading through Jungkook's dark strands. "Hush~" Slowly, gently, he guided the younger back down onto the bed, breaking the kiss only to press a tender one against his burning forehead.

"Don't say anything right now," he murmured.

Jungkook's lashes fluttered shut.

Safe.

Warm.

Home.

A soft knock at the door pulled Jimin from his trance. The former whimpered, fingers weakly reaching for him, not wanting him to leave his side.

Jimin hushed him with a gentle pat. "I'll be right back, Kookie," he murmured before making his way to the door. As he opened it, a small group of maids and servants stood outside, their heads bowed in respect. One of them held a medic bag, which she extended toward him.

"Good evening, sir" she greeted. "We were sent to assist." Jimin nodded, accepting the bag before stepping aside. The servants moved in swiftly, beginning to clean the wrecked room while maintaining a respectful silence.

With the bag in hand, Jimin turned back to Jungkook, who was struggling to sit up. The boy rushed over, slipping a pillow behind his back and helping him settle against it.

Jungkook's gaze never left Jimin, his eyes wide with unspoken fear, as though one blink would shatter this fragile dream, and the pink-haired boy would disappear. Jimin swallowed the lump in his throat and forced a small smile. He took out the thermometer and placed it under the younger's tongue, waiting in silence.

The moment it beeped, Jimin sighed, shaking his head at the high temperature before pulling out a set of pills. Pouring some water into a glass, he handed the medicine over.

"Take these" he instructed. Jungkook obeyed without question, even if Jimin had given him poison right now, he would take it happily, swallowing the pills he watched as Jimin prepared to treat his knuckles. Who carefully disinfected and wrapped the bruised hands, Jungkook finally broke the silence.

"Jimin, I'm really sorry."

Jimin stilled for a moment before sighing, gently setting down the bandage.

"We will talk about it later. For now, just rest"

Later that night, wrapped in fresh covers, the two lay in each other's arms. Jimin had helped Jungkook bathe, ensuring he was comfortable before they settled into bed.

As they lay in the dim light, Jungkook finally let him in—into the hidden world he had been shielding him from.

He told Jimin everything.

About the Devil's Eye.

About the KNIGHTS.

About the never-ending wars!

About Venom.

About what Venom was.

The boy felt chills run down his spine as some of the things he heard, feeling an eerie chill crawl down his spine. But Jungkook held him close, brushing his lips against Jimin's forehead.

"She's a nightmare to our enemies" he whispered. "But to us, she's home. She's family. And she's protective."

The boy shuddered, feeling the weight of the revelations settle deep within him. Each word Jungkook spoke painted a picture of a world far darker and more dangerous than he had ever imagined. The Devil's Eye wasn't just a name—it was a force, an empire built on power, fear, and unwavering loyalty. And Venom... she wasn't just a person.

Jimin let out a shaky breath as Jungkook pressed a soft kiss against his forehead, grounding him.

"I know it's a lot to take in," He murmured, pulling Jimin closer until there was no space left between them. "But I promise you, I'll always keep you safe."

The latter closed his eyes, resting his head against Jungkook's chest. He wanted to believe those words—to trust in the warmth Jungkook provided, despite the cold, ruthless world he was a part of.

But a lingering question gnawed at the back of his mind.

And what if the danger... isn't from the outside? What if it's from within?

Jimin didn't voice it. Not yet. He exhaled slowly, relaxing into Jungkook's embrace, comforted by his words. The masks they had both worn for so long finally crumbled. Here, at this moment, they were just Jimin and Jungkook. No secrets. No walls.

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"Speak," she commanded, her voice cold and devoid of emotion.

Target Kim is heading to Night Shot again.

Venom let out a sigh, rolling her eyes at the information. Without another word, she ended the call, slipping her phone into her pocket as she rose to her feet.

"So, he's got bad habits now."

Huffing in irritation, she strode toward the cupboard, pulling the doors open with a sharp flick of her wrist. Her gaze swept over the neatly arranged contents before settling on what she needed. She exhaled sharply, her fingers trailing over the sleek rows of weapons and tactical gear inside her wardrobe. A slow smirk curled her lips as she reached for a black leather holster, slipping it over her shoulders with practiced ease.

"Night Shot, huh? You really don't know when to quit, do you, Kim Taehyung?"

If Taehyung was running back to that den of shadows, it meant one thing—he was either searching for answers or burying secrets.

Either way, she was about to find out.

"Time to pay my love a visit."
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ℑ𝔶𝔞𝔫𝔨𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔳𝔬𝔱𝔢 𝔠𝔬𝔪𝔪𝔢𝔫𝔱 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔞𝔡𝔡 𝔱𝔬 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱𝔰.
𝔜𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔟𝔢𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔡 𝔞𝔲𝔱𝔥𝔬𝔯
𝕍𝕍

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