A wave of nausea clenches his stomach, holding him hostage. He wishes sleep would take him, but he can’t even drift off. His body is tired, but the pleasure of sex has evaporated quickly, leaving behind only a hollow emptiness. Jungkook hasn’t come back to bed since saying those words. He left him there, alone. Taehyung felt the mattress grow cold and then icy. The sheets, still infused with his scent, now serve as a constant reminder.

We’ll never be in a relationship.

Taehyung squeezes his eyes shut. Did he really delude himself into thinking things could be different? Jungkook never said he wanted a commitment, so why does it hurt so much, as if he’s been slapped in the face?

Maybe it’s the way Jungkook said it. The need to make it clear, as though the mere idea of something like that between them was unsettling. The meaning is painfully obvious: Taehyung might be a great lay for Jungkook, and Jungkook might be the same for Taehyung, but that’s pretty much all they’ll ever be to each other.

Just flesh.

The satisfaction of a biological need and nothing more.

How can this be the same guy Jimin always talks about? The one who held him tight while he was dying, who called his best friend in tears, who stayed at the hospital all night waiting for a doctor to come out of surgery and say he was okay, alive, out of danger?

How can someone care so much about you and, at the same time, trample all over you like you’re worthless?

Of all the contradictions in the world, Jungkook is both the biggest and the most mysterious.

And the most alluring.

Taehyung pulls his knees to his chest, wrapping his arms around them, his eyes half-closed. Jungkook’s scent still lingers faintly on his skin, but with each passing minute, it fades, becoming barely perceptible. His fingers trace the skin of his wrists, then the lines on the palms of his hands. He follows one of the grooves, focusing on the simplicity of the gesture. If they weren’t an alpha and an omega, would things be different? Maybe Jungkook would feel less of that need for freedom, that need to avoid attachments. Or maybe nothing would change. Even in the gay community, relationships aren’t exactly common—or lasting. Taehyung himself never wanted one, not before meeting Jungkook.

Being near him is dangerous for his heart; he knows that.

But how can he walk away when Jungkook is the only person who can keep him safe?

Especially when the last time he tried to forget him, he ended up in the arms of a psychopathic stalker.

No matter how hard he tries to keep his distance, fate keeps pushing him back into Jungkook’s arms. But why can’t fate understand that those arms reject him? That that heart is closed, unreachable?

These thoughts circle endlessly until Taehyung is so exhausted he collapses into sleep. It’s not a restful sleep, though—just light, empty, and dreamless. He wakes hours later, when the pale light of a cloudy morning creeps into the room. His legs are freezing, and the blankets are bunched up at the foot of the bed.

He sits up, ignoring the ache in his lower back, and stretches his legs. Jungkook really hasn’t come back. Slipping out of bed, he picks up his shirt from the floor and pulls it on. A shiver runs through him as his feet touch the cool floor. He grabs his phone. It’s 9:40 a.m. Jungkook must have been at work for a while now. Sighing, he heads to the living room. There’s a rumpled blanket on the couch—Jungkook must have slept there. But why? And why so suddenly?

He makes himself a cup of hot coffee, sipping it at the counter, but he can’t focus on anything. His thoughts keep returning to the night before, to what could have caused that distance, but he can’t figure it out. Meanwhile, his head feels like it’s trapped in a bubble. He has to force himself to take a shower. He washes carefully, avoiding wetting the bandage, and then dries his hair while sitting on the toilet. As the warmth from the hairdryer seeps into his scalp, his thoughts return to Jungkook. Did Jungkook get upset because Taehyung rested his head on his chest? No, that wouldn’t make sense. It wasn’t such an intimate gesture, especially since they had just finished having sex.

He picks up his phone. In moments like these, he can’t help but pester Jimin. No matter how different the other omega is, he always knows how to make him feel better.

“I’m at Jungkook’s. He’s acting weird. Weirder than usual,” he types.

His phone buzzes with a reply shortly after.

“He’s been weird for weeks. Since the accident. I’m sorry, Tae ): Give him time. Things will get better.”

Taehyung sighs.

Part of him wants to tell Jimin what happened, but another part knows... What does he expect Jimin to say other than that it was obvious this was how things were? When has Jungkook ever said he wanted a relationship?

“How are you, anyway?” Taehyung types. He’s so caught up in his own drama that he rarely remembers to ask about his friend’s life.

“My human crush is a piece of crap. I’m trying to console myself by going on some blind dates. Don’t worry—they’re from a trusted circle, no crazy maniacs among them. And they’re all human.”

Taehyung feels alarm bells ringing in his head. He could never go out with someone he didn’t know again—he wonders where Jimin even finds the courage to do it after everything that’s happened. And a human! It sounds so wrong to his ears. Isn’t it already painful enough to be rejected by a human? Why try with more? Omegas don’t have much sway over them—human hormones work differently than those with the ABO gene mutation.

A new message interrupts Taehyung’s thoughts.

It’s Jimin again.

“Don’t stress too much, okay? I’ll talk to Jungkook. I’ll try to figure out what’s going through his mind. You just focus on healing and getting better. Got it?”

Easier said than done.

Taehyung stands in front of the mirror and looks at himself.

His bones stick out a bit more, his skin is a bit paler.

The coma left him emaciated, and his gloomy mood certainly doesn’t make him look any healthier.

He really should focus on himself.

Try to feel better. Live better.

At least try to be happy.

Even just a little.