Third person's pov

The players were herded back to the dorms after the exhausting game, their bodies sore, and their minds fried. Jungkook trudged in with the rest, his legs aching from the obstacles, his shirt sticking to his skin from all the sweat.

He wasn’t in the mood to deal with anyone. He just wanted to collapse onto his bunk and pretend for five minutes that he wasn’t trapped in a death game.

But as soon as he sat down, his eyes—completely on their own accord, mind you—drifted toward Taehyung.

Taehyung was sitting on the lower bunk across the room, one leg stretched out dramatically, his torn trouser revealing a bloody scrape on his knee. Blood trickled down his shin. Jungkook frowned and looked away.

It’s not my problem, he told himself firmly. It’s just a scratch. He’s fine. I don’t care.

Taehyung, however, was well aware that Jungkook’s eyes had lingered on him for a split second too long. He leaned back against the bunk frame, his hand gently grazing his knee as he let out a low, exaggerated groan.

“Ugh... it hurts so much,” Taehyung said loudly enough for half the dorm to hear, though his eyes flicked discreetly toward Jungkook. “I think... I might lose the leg.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes so hard it felt like they’d fall out of his head.

Jimin, who was sitting next to Taehyung, raised an eyebrow. “Is it really that bad?”

Taehyung nodded, “Worse. I’m dying.”

Jimin leaned in to examine the wound. “I mean... it’s not that deep. Just a little blood.”

“Blood loss can be fatal,” Taehyung said gravely, side-eyeing Jungkook, who was trying his best not to pay attention.

Yoongi, sitting on a nearby bunk, was watching the scene with the blankest expression possible. He glanced at the scrape, then back at Taehyung. “You’re fine.”

“I’m not fine,” Taehyung replied, still keeping up the act. He shifted slightly, letting out another groan for good measure.

Jungkook finally couldn’t take it anymore. He sighed loudly, standing up.

He stomped over to the nearest guard, who was standing stiffly near the door with a gun slung over his shoulder. Jungkook cleared his throat. “Excuse me,” he said, trying to sound polite. “Can I get some tissues and a bandage?”

The guard didn’t even glance at him.

Jungkook blinked, his irritation rising. “Hello? Did you hear me? Tissues. Bandage. You know, for injuries?

The guard remained as still as a statue.

Jungkook’s jaw tightened. He tried again, “I’m asking nicely here. Just some basic first aid.”

Still no response.

And that was it. Jungkook snapped.

“Oh, come on!” he exclaimed, throwing his hands up. “You’re just going to stand there like a damn mannequin while someone’s over there bleeding to death?”

Taehyung, who was very much not bleeding to death, perked up at this.

“I mean, look at him!” Jungkook continued, pointing vaguely in Taehyung’s direction. “That’s an open wound! Do you want it to get infected? Huh? Do you have any idea how painful infections are? It could get all gross and oozy.”

Jungkook groaned, “Listen,” he said, jabbing a finger in the guard’s direction. “If you don’t get me those tissues and that bandage right now, I swear I will—”

He paused, realizing he had no actual power in this situation. “I will... uh... complain! Very loudly! And annoyingly! To all of you! Every single day until you do something about it!”

The guard finally moved and went outside the room and came back with a pack of tissues and a roll of bandages, amd shoved them into Jungkook’s hands without a word.

“Thank you!” Jungkook said sarcastically, storming back toward Taehyung.

Taehyung was looking up at him with something soft that Jungkook chose to ignore.

“Here,” Jungkook said gruffly, shoving the tissues and bandage at him. “Fix your leg and stop making noises like a dying animal some of us wants to have peace. ”

Taehyung grinned, taking the supplies. “Thanks.”

Then jungkook climbed the stairs to get to his bed, he needed to lay down.

Taehyung sat cross-legged on the bunk, tissues and bandage in hand, staring dramatically at his bleeding knee as if it were a life-threatening wound.

He dabbed at it half-heartedly with the tissue, glancing up now and then to see if Jungkook was paying attention. To his disappointment, Jungkook was still sitting on his bunk, looking like he was trying to ignore him completely.

With a sigh, Taehyung let out a groan, “Ugh... it’s so hard to do this myself. My hands just aren’t steady.”

Jimin, who was sitting nearby, perked up. “Want me to help?”

Taehyung panicked internally. No, no, no! This wasn’t the plan! He needed Jungkook to come over and help, not Jimin. But he couldn’t just outright refuse, so he forced a tight smile. “Uh… sure, I guess.”

Jimin leaned forward, grabbing the bandage and starting to wrap Taehyung’s knee.

“Ow!” Taehyung yelped dramatically, yanking his leg back. “Too tight! You’re cutting off my circulation!”

Jimin raised an eyebrow, “I’m literally wrapping it the normal way. Stop being a baby.”

Taehyung winced for effect, biting his lip and glancing toward Jungkook. Come on, Jungkook. Look over here. Yes, just like that… now come here and save me!

Sure enough, Jungkook was watching out of the corner of his eye. He let out a small sigh, shifting on his bed as if debating whether to intervene.

Taehyung’s heart soared. That’s it! My plan is working! My petal is coming to rescue me—

But then something happened.

A woman in her late twenties suddenly appeared out of nowhere. She practically skipped over to Taehyung, her voice dripping with a cringe-worthy tone.

“Oppa!” she chirped, batting her eyelashes. “Do you need help? I can help you! I’m so good at first aid!”

Taehyung froze, his face shifting between disbelief and horror.

Jimin stared at her like she’d grown an extra head. “I’m literally already helping—”

“You’re not doing it properly!” the woman cut him off, snatching the bandage right out of Jimin’s hands. “I’ll take care of it! Oppa, you’ll feel so much better after this!”

From across the room, Yoongi let out an audible gag, muttering, “What the hell was that voice? I feel sick.”

Taehyung held up his hands, trying to wave her off. “No, really, you don’t have to. I’m fine. You can go sit down or—”

But she wasn’t having it. Before he could finish, she grabbed his leg—forcefully—and started wrapping the bandage.

“Oppa, don’t worry,” she cooed, though her tone was anything but comforting. “I’ll make sure your knee is all better. You’re so brave for getting hurt like this!”

Taehyung looked like he wanted to cry. Not from the pain, but from the sheer embarrassment of the situation. Her bandaging technique was so aggressive that it felt like she was actually cutting his leg instead.

Meanwhile, Jungkook, who had been halfway off his bed, took one look at the scene and immediately sat back down.

No, no, no! Taehyung screamed internally. This isn’t how it was supposed to go! Jungkook, come back! Don’t let this... this Area 51 experiment take my leg hostage!

The woman kept going, humming some cringe-inducing tune as she worked. She even tried to wink at Taehyung at one point, but it ended up looking more like she had something stuck in her eye.

“Oppa, I’m almost done!” the woman said, tightening the bandage.

Taehyung hissed in pain.

“You’re welcome!” she chirped.

When she finally pranced away, Taehyung slumped against the wall, defeated. “Great. Just great,” he muttered, glaring at Jimin.

Jimin leaned back, arms crossed, “I’m sure this was so much better than me helping.”

────୨ৎ────

Flashback,

The apartment door creaked open, and Jungkook stepped inside, his shoulders sagging from exhaustion. It had been a long night out with his colleagues, nothing too wild—just drinks, laughs, and casual conversations.

But as soon as he entered, the air felt different. Heavy. Suffocating.

Taehyung was sitting on the couch, his jaw clenched. His sharp eyes flicked to Jungkook.

“You’re home late,” Taehyung said, his voice low.

Jungkook kicked off his shoes and sighed, already sensing where this was headed. “I told you I was going out with my colleagues. I texted you, Taehyung.”

“Texted me?” Taehyung laughed bitterly, rising to his feet. “You call that a text? ‘Hey, I’ll be late.’ That’s it? No call? No details? Who were you with? Where were you? Do you even care how worried I was?”

Jungkook set his bag down and turned to face him, his face already beginning to harden. “I wasn’t doing anything wrong! I don’t need to report every single detail of my life to you, Taehyung. You knew where I was.”

Taehyung scoffed, stepping closer. “Oh, really? How do I know you weren’t out with someone else? Some guy you’re flirting with at work?”

Jungkook’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Are you serious right now? Do you even hear yourself? You’re being ridiculous!”

“I’m being ridiculous?” Taehyung shot back, his voice rising. “You’re the one who thinks it’s okay to just disappear all night without telling me who you’re with or what you’re doing! Do you even care about how I feel, Jungkook?”

Jungkook’s frustration boiled over, and he threw his hands in the air. “You’re impossible, Taehyung! I went out with colleagues—colleagues! It was a work thing! Do you really think so little of me that you can’t trust me for one night?”

“It’s not about trust, Jungkook. It’s about respect. And clearly, you don’t have any for me.”

“Respect?” Jungkook laughed incredulously. “You’re the one who’s always breathing down my neck, questioning every move I make, demanding to know where I am every second of the day! That’s not respect, Taehyung. That’s control.”

Taehyung’s face darkened, and he took another step closer, “Control? You think I’m controlling? All I ever do is love you, Jungkook. All I ever do is worry about you because you mean everything to me. But clearly, you don’t feel the same way.”

Jungkook clenched his fists, his chest heaving. “Loving someone doesn’t mean suffocating them, Taehyung! You’re possessive and obsessive, and it’s driving me crazy! I can’t even breathe around you anymore!”

Taehyung’s eyes blazed with anger, and before Jungkook could react, Taehyung grabbed Jungkook’s phone and slammed it onto the floor. The sound of the screen shattering echoed through the room.

“Are you insane?!” Jungkook yelled, his voice breaking as he stared at the broken pieces of his phone.

Taehyung didn’t back down, his chest rising and falling as he glared at Jungkook. “Maybe I am! Maybe I’m crazy for loving someone who doesn’t give a damn about me!”

Jungkook’s vision blurred with tears of frustration and anger, and before he could stop himself, he slapped Taehyung across the face.

Taehyung slowly turned his head back to Jungkook, his cheek red from the impact.

“You...” Taehyung whispered, “You’re really going to do this? You’re going to hit me?”

“You broke my phone!” Jungkook shouted, his voice cracking. “You’re out of control, Taehyung! I don’t even recognize you anymore!”

Taehyung took a step closer, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. “You don’t recognize me? You don’t recognize the man who’s been there for you through everything? The man who gave up everything for you? And now you’re just going to throw me away like I’m nothing?”

Jungkook took a shaky step back, his voice trembling. “I’m not throwing you away, Taehyung. But I can’t do this anymore. I can’t live like this—walking on eggshells, constantly afraid of what you’re going to do next. I’m breaking up with you.”

Taehyung’s eyes widened, and for a moment, he looked like a lost child. But then his expression hardened, and he grabbed Jungkook’s wrist, pulling him close. “You’re not breaking up with me,” he said through gritted teeth, “You’re mine, Jungkook. You’ll always be mine.”

Jungkook’s breath hitched, and he yanked his wrist free, his voice rising, “No, Taehyung. I’m not yours. Not anymore.”

Taehyung’s eyes filled with tears, but his pride wouldn’t let them fall.

“Maybe I will regret it,” Jungkook whispered, his voice shaking. “But I can’t stay, Taehyung. Not like this.”

And with that, Jungkook turned and walked out the door, leaving Taehyung standing alone.

────୨ৎ────

Jungkook blinked rapidly, wiping at his cheeks with the back of his hand. His fingers trembled slightly as he realized they were wet. I’m crying? he thought bitterly.

He shifted uncomfortably on the top bunk. That memory—the night they broke apart—had burned itself into his mind, a scar that refused to heal no matter how hard he tried.

Every time he thought about Taehyung’s wild eyes, his trembling voice, and the shattering of their love, it felt like he was back in that apartment all over again.

For months after, Jungkook had done everything he could to forget. He threw himself into work, went out with friends, even tried dating again. But none of it worked. Every laugh, every conversation, every quiet moment alone brought him back to Taehyung.

His smile, the way he’d call him “petal” with that deep, teasing voice, the little habits that only Taehyung had—it was all still there, haunting him.

Jungkook turned his head slightly, his eyes drifting to the lower bunk where Taehyung was sleeping. His features were softened in sleep. For a moment, Jungkook’s chest ached in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time.

Maybe he’s changed, Jungkook thought. He studied the curve of Taehyung’s jaw. Maybe he really is different now. Better.

The Taehyung he’d seen in this game didn’t seem like the same man who had smashed his phone, who had cornered him in their apartment that night. This Taehyung was calmer, more collected. Still annoyingly confident, sure, but there was a softness to him that felt... new.

What Jungkook didn’t know—what he couldn’t have known—was that this entire game was Taehyung’s design. Taehyung had orchestrated everything with one goal in mind: to get Jungkook back. To bring him close again, even if it meant risking everything.

But Jungkook didn’t know that. He just sighed quietly, wiping the last of his tears before turning onto his side. Sleep came slowly, his thoughts still lingering on Taehyung.

────୨ৎ────

The next morning, players were shuffling around, groaning as they stretched sore muscles. The guards were stationed by the doors, their blank masks watching over everyone.

Jungkook sat up on his bunk, rubbing at his eyes, when he noticed something unusual.

Taehyung was still lying on the lower bunk, looking like he was in pain. His leg was stretched out stiffly, and he groaned dramatically every time he tried to move.

Jungkook frowned. Is he still milking that stupid injury?

Jimin walked over and crouched beside Taehyung. “Still hurts?” he asked, tilting his head.

“Oh, terribly,” Taehyung replied, letting out a sigh, “I can barely move.”

Jungkook groaned internally. Here we go again.

But as much as he wanted to ignore it, a part of him—it had to be the good person part, right?—couldn’t leave it alone. He climbed down from his bunk, grumbling under his breath, and walked over to Taehyung.

Taehyung looked up at him with wide, innocent eyes.

Jungkook ignored his eyes and said, “Do you need help or not?”

Taehyung’s lips twitched into a small, victorious smile before he quickly hid it. “Well, if you’re offering... I can’t say no.”

Jungkook sighed heavily, muttering something under his breath about how he was definitely not doing this because he cared. He bent down and grabbed Taehyung’s arm, helping him sit up.

“Careful,” Taehyung said, “I’m very fragile.”

“You’re unbelievable,” Jungkook muttered, wrapping an arm around Taehyung’s back to help him stand.

As Taehyung rose to his feet, he leaned heavily on Jungkook, his hand resting on Jungkook’s shoulder. The closeness made Jungkook’s heart stutter for a moment, but he quickly shook it off.

“There,” Jungkook said, stepping back once Taehyung was upright.

Taehyung gave him a soft smile, and for once, it didn’t look like an act.

────୨ৎ────

So that was all for Taehyung’s chapter, I hope you guys enjoyed reading it.

How is the story going ?

What do you think about their breakup ?