𝗠𝘆 𝗝𝗲𝗿𝗸 𝗘𝗻𝗲𝗺𝘆 (𝑻𝒉𝒗 𝒇𝒇)

Chapter Thirty Six: Kiss

You followed Taehyung into the apartment, your eyes taking in the surroundings. It wasn't opulent, but it was comfortable. The connecting kitchen and living room, complete with a cozy couch, was suitable for a single person.

The night's stillness was interrupted only by the distant hum of insects. Taehyung stood with his back to you, and you watched silently as he placed the bags on the floor.

He turned to face you, a determined look in his eyes. "Next time anyone dares to look at you like that ass hole did, don't hesitate to slap them across the face," he said.

You nodded, still a bit taken aback by his protectiveness. You had never seen this side of him before, a side filled with anger and intensity. It made him even more attractive.

You and Taehyung locked eyes in a silent exchange. Your voice broke the quiet atmosphere as you whispered, "Why are you helping me?"

He paused for a moment before answering, his words coming out a bit flustered. "What do you expect me to do when someone is yelling at and trying to force you? Do you think I'd just leave you alone?"

His words hung in the air, a stark revelation of his feelings towards you.

"Only I can yell at you," he declared, gesturing to himself with his index finger.

You stood there, feeling a mixture of awe and disbelief as his words sunk in.

"I was so bored," he continued, his voice tinged with disbelief. "What the fuck is life without you?"

"It's nothing," he stated, his tone suddenly serious.

You couldn't believe your ears, hearing this from your self-proclaimed enemy.

"Since you've decided not to sign, you'll have to make omelettes for me..." he began, ticking off a list of tasks on his fingers. "And you'll need to iron my suit, and you'll have to learn to put up with me," he concluded with a smirk.

"Shut your mouth," you retorted, turning and taking a seat on the couch.

Taehyung chuckled, joining you on the couch. "You agreed to be my wife," he shot back, his tone playful yet laced with determination.

"Do you know the difference between a slave and a wife?" you asked, your voice slightly mocking.

Taehyung sat down beside you, a smirk on his face.

"I brought you here, so you have to listen to me," he stated, his tone firm.

You picked up the remote control and switched on the television.

"Now go and arrange the stuff," you commanded, a hint of playful authority in your voice.

Taehyung chuckled in disbelief. "No way in hell," he protested.

"Get up fast," you commanded, giving him a rough shove. He stood up, a pleading expression on his face.

"Didn't you see how I stood up for you in front of everyone? You have to at least accept me," he pleaded.

You looked him directly in the eyes and responded, "I accept you."

He groaned in frustration. "I'm not doing anything. Go do it yourself, damn it."

You retorted, "So you brought me here just to make me your slave, bastard?"

"I'll only unpack my own things," you informed him, standing up and heading to your bags. Taehyung followed closely behind, peering over your shoulder.

"That's my underwear," he pointed out when you picked up the garment.

You threw the underwear playfully at his face, and he caught it with a smirk. "Show some respect to your husband," he teased.

As you organized your belongings, Taehyung began putting his own items into the wardrobe. He pushed your belongings aside, prompting you to push his things back.

"Y/n, don't start a fight," he warned, a teasing glint in his eyes.

You huffed in annoyance, "I'm not starting a fight; you are the one who is starting it by invading my space."

You forcefully shoved his things aside and turned to face him, a defiant glint in your eyes.

"Don't act so arrogant. Mom is not here to save you now," He retorted.

You watched as Taehyung forcefully shoved his belongings into the wardrobe, his clothes messily arranged on the other side.

Annoyance flared within you, and you couldn't help but comment, "Your clothes are such a mess. Can't you even keep them organized?"

"Shut your mouth," he snapped, his tone firm.

You rolled your eyes, but before you could respond, your gaze shifted to the kitchen. To your surprise, you discovered ramen instant noodles were already stocked up.

With resigned determination, you rolled up your sleeves and stepped into the kitchen. You began boiling the noodles and stirring them, meticulously preparing the dish.

He, meanwhile, settled into a seat at the dining table, designed for two people, watching you intently.

"Do you even know how to cook?" he inquired, his voice tinged with curiosity.

You looked up from the noodles, replying, "I used to be a chef."

With confident precision, you added the seasonings to the pot, stirring the mixture before gracefully pouring it into two bowls.

Carrying the bowls, you placed one in front of him and claimed the other for yourself. You settled onto the chair, taking a seat opposite him.

You diligently savored the noodles using chopsticks, completely engrossed in the simple meal. Meanwhile, your gaze flicked in his direction, finding him watching you intently.

Curious, you voiced, "Why aren't you eating?"

He raised an eyebrow, "What if I were to die from eating this?"

Unfazed, you retorted, "It's not that bad."

He looked back at the steaming noodles, a cautious expression on his face, before he gradually reached for his chopsticks, carefully taking a bite.

You watched as he cautiously took a bite, his expression betraying a hint of surprise at how good it tasted. However, he couldn't admit it so easily.

You probed, "How's it?"

He replied with a nonchalant tone, "Well, it's edible."

As he sat across from you, he reached out with his finger, gently wiping away the remaining seasonings that clung to the corner of your lip.

Your eyes widened briefly as you took in his unexpected action, caught off guard by the intimacy of the gesture.

Heat crept into your cheeks as you recalled the memory of the canteen in high school. Both of you had shared a table, and he had mercilessly teased you for staining your clothes during lunch, eventually leading to a full-blown fight.

His question, "You still don't know how to eat, don't you?", only served to make your cheeks grow hotter.

Your response came in a defensive tone, "I know how to eat, okay?"

You hastily grabbed the chopsticks, still avoiding eye contact with him. Your head stayed lowered as you continued eating, a mixture of defensiveness and embarrassment written across your face.

His question hung in the air, and you raised your head to look at him. Without a word, you swiftly snatched the bowl, placing it back in the sink before turning to leave.

But his grip on your wrist stopped you, and his voice once again broke the silence, "Still avoiding?"

He held you in place, preventing you from walking away.

The words left your mouth in a defensive rush, "I was just avoiding because I couldn't remember it,"

Before you could react, he pulled you into his lap, and your eyes widened in surprise. You instinctively placed your hands on his shoulders to stabilize yourself, locking eyes with him as you found yourself seated upon his thighs.

His voice dropped to a whisper, "So let me remind you how it was."

To be continued...