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Summary
“Hey,” Jungkook said, voice low, “whatever he did, he didn’t deserve that.”
“Oh?” Choi said, mouth twisting in amusement. “Did you know his boyfriend likes to sever heads and preserve them? I hear he’s got quite the collection.”
Jungkook felt his eye twitch. “That’s disgusting, and also not funny.” He glanced at the crying boy, who’d now curled his legs up to fit on the chair, his feet bare and as tiny as the rest of him. Lines of red were spilling from under the cuffs, dripping onto the table. “I’m going to find a first aid kit and treat those.”
“I wasn’t joking,” Choi said, as Jungkook slipped out of the room.