The morning passed in a blur, and Taehyung kept himself busy with his tasks. He dusted the grand library, cleaned the chandeliers, and arranged fresh flowers in the main hall. The mansion was suffocatingly large and lifeless — as though no happiness had touched it in years.

Yet every time Taehyung’s gaze wandered toward the grand staircase leading to the Duke’s chamber, his heart ached. He could still hear Jungkook’s pained voice from yesterday.

“You should not have to dirty your hands on someone like me.”

Taehyung swallowed hard. Why did the Duke despise himself so much? How long had he suffered like this — alone and unloved?

⸻

By noon, Taehyung decided to clean the Duke’s study. He knew the Duke often spent his days there, reading books or tending to estate affairs. Maybe if Taehyung could make the space brighter and more comfortable, Jungkook would feel less… alone.

Balancing a small ladder, Taehyung began dusting the high shelves filled with thick, leather-bound books. His petite frame stretched as he reached for the upper shelf, his dress rising slightly to reveal his thick thighs. His braid slipped over his shoulder, and soft beads of sweat formed on his temple.

“I should hurry…” he murmured, adjusting his footing.

But just as he leaned forward to reach a dusty book, his foot slipped. The ladder wobbled violently beneath him.

“A-ah—!”

The world tilted as Taehyung tumbled off the ladder. His body crashed to the floor, his arm twisting unnaturally beneath him. A sharp, searing pain exploded in his wrist, and he gasped.

“Ahhh… it hurts…”

Tears blurred his vision as he clutched his injured wrist, biting his lip to stifle a cry. His whole body trembled from the shock.

“Damn it…” he whimpered, his voice cracking. “I-I shouldn’t have climbed alone…”

Footsteps. Heavy, hurried footsteps thundered down the hallway. Within seconds, the door to the study burst open.

“Taehyung!”

Taehyung’s head snapped up, and his heart stopped.

The Duke.

Jungkook stood in the doorway, his large figure looming. His chest heaved, and his face twisted in raw panic. The sight of Taehyung crumpled on the floor — clutching his wrist, eyes wet with pain — seemed to shatter something inside him.

“What happened?” Jungkook’s voice cracked as he rushed forward. “Did you fall?”

“I-I’m fine, Your Grace—”

“Don’t you dare say you’re fine!” Jungkook growled, kneeling beside Taehyung. His large hands hovered uncertainly, as if afraid to touch him. “Where does it hurt?”

“My… my wrist,” Taehyung choked. “I fell off the ladder—”

“Damn it,” Jungkook cursed. His trembling hands finally reached out, wrapping around Taehyung’s delicate arm. His grip was surprisingly gentle despite his large size. “You should not have climbed alone. What were you thinking?”

Taehyung gasped as pain shot through his wrist. “A-ah…!”

Jungkook immediately let go, his face paling. “I-I’m sorry— I didn’t mean to hurt you—”

“N-no, Your Grace,” Taehyung panted, his cheeks flushing. “It’s not your fault.”

Jungkook’s hands were shaking. His gaze fixed on Taehyung’s swollen wrist, and pure guilt flooded his face. Without another word, the Duke scooped Taehyung into his arms.

Taehyung froze. “Y-Your Grace—!?”

“Quiet,” Jungkook snapped, his voice tight. “I need to get you treated.”

Taehyung’s breath hitched as he felt the sheer size of the Duke’s body against his own. His massive, round belly pressed against Taehyung’s soft waist, and his thick, strong arms cradled him like he weighed nothing. Taehyung’s heart pounded uncontrollably.

Jungkook walked briskly toward his chamber, his entire body rigid with panic. “Damn it… I knew this would happen. I knew someone like you shouldn’t be working here…”

Taehyung stared up at him. “W-what do you mean?”

Jungkook’s jaw clenched. “You’re too delicate. You don’t belong in a place like this. You’ll get hurt.” His voice cracked. “And I will not allow that.”

Taehyung’s heart ached. “Your Grace…”

Within moments, Jungkook reached his chamber. He gently laid Taehyung on the bed, his hands still visibly shaking. Without pause, he grabbed a linen cloth and began wrapping Taehyung’s swollen wrist. His touch was painfully careful — almost as though he was afraid of breaking Taehyung.

“Why are you shaking?” Taehyung whispered.

Jungkook froze. His grip on the cloth tightened. “Because I was afraid.”

Taehyung’s eyes widened. “Afraid?”

Jungkook exhaled shakily. “I thought you were seriously hurt. And the thought of you… suffering… because of me…” His voice cracked, filled with unbearable guilt. “I couldn’t bear it.”

Tears stung Taehyung’s eyes. “But it’s not your fault, Your Grace—”

“It is,” Jungkook whispered hoarsely. “You wouldn’t be here if not for me. You’d be somewhere brighter… somewhere with people who match your beauty. Not here. Not with me.”

Taehyung’s heart shattered. Without thinking, his uninjured hand reached up and cupped Jungkook’s scarred, rough cheek.

Jungkook flinched as though burned. “D-don’t—”

“Why do you keep saying that?” Taehyung whispered, his voice thick with unshed tears. “Why do you keep acting like you don’t deserve kindness?”

Jungkook’s throat bobbed painfully. “Because I don’t.”

Taehyung shook his head. “That’s not true. You saved me today.”

Jungkook laughed bitterly. “A beast saving a beauty. What a cruel joke.”

“Stop calling yourself that!” Taehyung burst, tears finally falling. “You’re not a beast. You’re not hideous. You’re just—” His voice broke. “You’re just lonely.”

Silence.

Jungkook stared at him, his face twisted in disbelief and pain. “You… you don’t understand…”

“I do,” Taehyung whispered, his hand still cradling Jungkook’s face. “I understand what it’s like to be unloved. To feel like you’re not enough. To believe you’re unworthy of kindness.”

Jungkook’s breath hitched. “Taehyung…”

“And I’m not afraid of you,” Taehyung whispered. “I never was.”

Something inside Jungkook broke. Without thinking, his large, trembling hand covered Taehyung’s small one, pressing it tighter against his scarred cheek. His throat worked painfully, as though trying to hold back tears.

“You’ll regret staying here,” Jungkook rasped. “One day, you’ll look at me and see a monster.”

Taehyung’s voice cracked. “I will never see you that way.”

Jungkook’s resolve shattered. Against his better judgment, he leaned into Taehyung’s touch — his large, scarred face now nuzzling against Taehyung’s delicate palm. His body trembled as though starved for affection.

And Taehyung did not pull away.

Instead, he smiled sadly and whispered, “I don’t want to leave you, Your Grace.”

Jungkook squeezed his eyes shut, his entire body wracked with silent anguish. His large hand clutched Taehyung’s uninjured one, desperate… as if trying to memorize the warmth.

And for the first time in years…

The Duke allowed himself to be touched.