Rất tiếc! Hình ảnh này không tuân theo hướng dẫn nội dung. Để tiếp tục đăng tải, vui lòng xóa hoặc tải lên một hình ảnh khác.
I felt like—like I don't know what. Like this wasn't real. Like I was in some Goth version of a bad sitcom. Instead of being the A/V dweeb about to ask the head cheerleader to the prom, I was the finished-second-place werewolf about to ask the vampire's husband to shack up and procreate. Nice.
No, I wouldn't do it. It was twisted and wrong. I was going to forget all about what he'd said.
But I would talk to Kook. I'd try to make him listen to me.
And he wouldn't. Just like always.
Taehyung didn't answer or comment on my thoughts as he led the way back to the house. I wondered about the place that he'd chosen to stop. Was it far enough from the house that the others couldn't hear his whispers? Was that the point?
Maybe. When we walked through the door, the other Cullens' eyes were suspicious and confused. No one looked disgusted or outraged. So they must not have heard either favor Taehyung had asked me for.
I hesitated in the open doorway, not sure what to do now. It was better right there, with a little bit of breathable air blowing in from outside.
Taehyung walked into the middle of the huddle, shoulders stiff. Kook watched him anxiously, and then his eyes flickered to me for a second. Then he was watching him again.
His face turned a grayish pale, and I could see what he meant about the stress making Kook feel worse.
"We're going to let Minghyu and Kook speak privately," Taehyung said. There was no inflection at all in his voice. Robotic.
"Over my pile of ashes," Rosé hissed at him. She was still hovering by Kook's head, one of her cold hands placed possessively on Kook's sallow cheek.
Taehyung didn't look at her. "Kook," he said in that same empty tone. "Minghyu wants to talk to you. Are you afraid to be alone with him?"
Kook looked at me, confused. Then he looked at Rosé.
"Rosé, it's fine. Minghyu's not going to hurt us. Go with Taehyung."
"It might be a trick," the blonde warned.
"I don't see how," Kook said.
"Joon and I will always be in your sight, Rosé," Taehyung said. The emotionless voice was cracking, showing the anger through it. "We're the ones he's afraid of."
"No," Kook whispered. His eyes were glistening, his lashes wet. "No, Taehyung. I'm not. . . ."
Taehyung shook his head, smiling a little. The smile was painful to look at. "I didn't mean it that way, Kookie. I'm fine. Don't worry about me."
Sickening. He was right—Kook was beating himself up about hurting Taehyung's feelings.
The boy was a classic martyr. He'd totally been born in the wrong century. He should have lived back when he could have gotten himself fed to some lions for a good cause.
