❝ Rage❞
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I TURNED MY GAZE OVER TO JUNGKOOK'S father, his hands in tight fists, on the table, almost red from the impact they had on the table. I stiffened even more, my mind not working properly.

I glanced over at his mother, her face changed back to her normal one, "Is that how you talk to your mother!?" He cried, face red as he panted, chest rising. I, for a split second, got worried that he'll get a heart attack from yelling so loud.

Jungkook doesn't flinch, his eyes don't change, they're emotionless, they don't twitch in fear at the image of his raging father, or the grief of his mother or brother not supporting him, I shifted my gaze to the slumped brother in front of me.

He exchanged glanced with me, winking at me, however, it wasn't flirty, as if he's reassuring me that this isn't much of a worry.

"Get out, all of you!" His father turned to the maids, the scared women nodded, quickly scurrying out of the house.

He clenched his jaw, his muscles flexing. "I've told you hundred times to respect your mother—" My heard deeply sank when Jungkook cut his father's speech off, the most cruel words leaving his tongue as he fought back his father,

"She isn't my mother." I turned to him, he got up, hands in his pockets. Then, my gaze moved to his mother, she didn't seem to be much attacked by his words,

It was a matter of fact.

I watch intensively as the father and son looked into each other's eyes, "What did you just say?" Jungkook's father roared, his brows knitting—almost not believing what his son had just said.

I clenched the hem of my dress, my heart beating fast, I didn't want to see them fight, no.

Jungkook licked his lips, "How dare you say that she's not your mo—" Yet again, Jungkook cuts him off, I squeezed mu own hands, clenching onto them.

"Because my mother is dead." He doesn't even yell, nor does he whisper. The weight of those words don't eat his voice away—in fact, his voice is stable and loud enough for everyone to hear.

Suddenly, everything just stopped, including my heart, my eyes just looked at my husband.

My eyes widened, mouth gaping at what just happened, I got up from the chair, as if my mind told me to, I couldn't process anything. But then, something whispered to me, my heart swelled,

He just punched Jungkook.

My heart burnt with rage—how dare he?—I questioned myself, wanting to peel my own skin off from the not-at-all resistable anger that came into me.

Jungkook didn't flinch even then, his eyes stayed the same, how can he control his emotions so well? Most importantly—why?

"Don't you dare mention her." The father clenched his jaw tightly. "Be like your brother—" He turned to his other son, sitting on the chair beside his mother.

"Responsible and well-matured."

This screwed me even more, this man, he doesn't sit with my husband, he sits with his wife and son, and yet thinks he has the right to punch and give those useless speeches my husband.

My hands fisted together, my eyed watching them closely, my legs were shaking, but the fear was much smaller than the overly anger in my heart.

I don't know what obsession took over me, but I just didn't want him to even talk to Jungkook, I felt angry and sad at the same time.

Jungkook scoffed,

"He's a scared little boy, no matured man or whatever bullshit—"

Time stopped, my eyes shut tightly.

The two other people present seemed to tense up when I suddenly walked between them, blocking the slap his father was directing.

His hand staged mid-way, his eyes looking at me. I opened my eyes to meet his, my whole body scrunched in disgust, he was a sick pervert to me, and an evil old man to my husband.

I didn't have the courage to say any bad things to him, or even speak loudly, but I did have the courage to beg and have all the pain he's directing towards his son.

His hand slumped, landing by his side as he ran a hand through his half-white hair. "P-Please.." My voice didn't melt any one of them, except Jungkook's brother, his eyes softened, suddenly regretting everything he's done in this one hour.

My hands came together, clinging onto each other, they were shaking in fear. "Don't hurt him." I whispered, the man groaned.

"Just take his useless being away from me before I commit something sinful."

You vile man.

I turned, facing Jungkook. My eyes softened when I finally noticed the side of his lips, red and bleeding lightly. I didn't say anything, nor did he. He just stared down at me, hands in his pockets.

Don't Jungkook, you're much better than these monsters.

He seemed to have heard my mind, as if our hearts linked. It could have, maybe our hate could turn into friendship. Maybe if we work together, we could protect each other, maybe it'll all be worth it in the end.

I held his hand, tightly. "Thank you for having us." I told the others, bowing just lightly before I walked forward, dragging Jungkook along with him.

I expected him to protest, but he didn't, instead, he followed me, just staring at my back blankly.

I opened the large door with the last bit of strength in me.

I dragged him out, my hand over his fingers tightly, it wasn't big enough to hold his whole hand, but enough for my warmth to reach him.

I stopped when I reached his car, he didn't even say anything, just fished his keys out of his pocekst and unlocked the door.

I got in, followed by him. I didn't look back to that vile house again, I didn't want to. He drove off, and I could finally feel my joints relaxing from their alarmed positions.

My body functioned again, maybe telling themselves—yeah, the show's over—I didn't want to see that family ever again, nor did I want Jungkook to. I wanted everyone to stay away from them.

One thing is clear;

I'll have to figure out these deep secrets myself.