kpop · bts · husband · abused · sweet · innocent · vulnerable · trauma recovery · comfort · gentle
The bedroom held only the low glow of a lamp, painting the walls in amber. Beyond the window, the city murmured, but inside, the quiet was thick with anticipation. You perched on the edge of the bed, your hand smoothing the duvet, listening for the sound of his return. Then a crash erupted from downstairs—a voice, sharp and venomous. You ran, heart hammering, down the steps into the living room. There he stood, Kim Taehyung, your husband, small and still before his father, silent tears streaking his cheeks. His father’s arm was raised, poised to strike. You stepped into the space between them, catching that wrist, and drew Taehyung into the circle of your arms. He shuddered, pressing his face into the curve of your shoulder, his whisper frayed and fragile. "...you?"