Bound by the Nerve
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How are you all…
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Long gab again I'm here....
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Here it's my another story
Unknown
"Dark Web/Obsession" theme.
In this story, Jungkook (ML) is a powerful, feared figure in the digital underworld who has been paralyzed in a suspicious "accident," and Taehyung (MC) is the brilliant but struggling therapist forced to heal him.
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I'll also try to continue my previous work because due to my personal I can't come to continue that but now I need some time for continue.
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Hope you guys will support this story
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It's not a Mafia nether CEO nor any collage story. It's different from that kind a plot.
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Just read description before further continuation of this.... Tech world story where a antagonist is Ai. let's dive into the story to know what's happening..
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It's mainly focusing on taekook , not complete ot7. No side couple. Just Few characters in this story.
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Everyone welcome to the story but don't report if you find it boring , not your likable just let me know or just leave
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feel free to share your thoughts and suggestions here
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Bye ....
1. Threshold
The rhythmic click-clack by the hollow echo of a person's footsteps against the wet pavement
Taehyung, a talented but struggling physiotherapist.
It was his twenty-five birthday, though the only gift he’d received was a double shift and a patient with a frozen shoulder who’d spent an hour wincing under his touch.
His hands—the hands of a talented physiotherapist—were cramped, smelling faintly of cooling menthol gel and antiseptic. They were hands meant for healing, yet they trembled slightly as he reached for his house keys.
As the heavy oak door of his apartment creaked open, the "elegance" people saw in him at the clinic—the straight spine, the calm smile, the ironed scrubs—collapsed.
The hallway didn’t smell like a birthday dinner. He didn't even have to turn on the light to know. It smelled of stale cigarettes and the frantic, electric hum of a television left on too long.
But it was the sight of his professional medical kit—the one he used for private home visits to make extra cash—flung open on the floor that stopped his heart.
His high-end percussion massager, a tool that cost him a month’s rent, was gone.
There, sprawled on the sofa amidst a sea of crumpled betting slips and empty snack bags, was his brother.
The "debt" wasn't just a number on a ledger anymore;
it was the grey skin under his brother's eyes and the way the rent money had vanished... again.
Taehyung didn't even take off his coat. He just leaned his forehead against the cool, peeling wallpaper of the entry hall. He was a man who spent his days fixing broken bodies, yet he had no idea how to mend the fracture in his own home.
Dr.Kim Taehyung
"Min ho?" Taehyung’s voice was a low, dangerous vibration.
His brother sat on the sofa, rubbing his face, looking smaller than usual.
kim Minho / Tae's brother
Oh, Tae, you came
kim Minho / Tae's brother
"Tae, look, I had a lead. A sure thing at the races. I just needed a deposit. I'll get the device back tomorrow, I swear—"
The "elegant" physiotherapist didn't yell. He moved with a terrifying, clinical efficiency. In three strides, Tae was at the sofa. He didn't use his hands to heal; he grabbed his brother by the collar of his hoodie and hauled him upward.
Dr.Kim Taehyung
"That machine pays for the roof over your head," Tae hissed, his face inches from his brother’s. "It pays for the food you eat while you sit here throwing my life away."
kim Minho / Tae's brother
"It’s your birthday, Tae, don't be like—"
He gestured him to stop and shouted his lungs out
2. Broken
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Hi guys
Tae dragged him toward the door. It wasn't a fight; it was an extraction. He opened the heavy oak door to the hallway—the same hallway he had walked through with pride when he first got his license—and shoved his brother into the cold.
Taehyung grabbed a Duffel bag from the closet, stuffed it with his brother’s tangled clothes, and threw it onto the landing.
kim Minho / Tae's brother
Tae , I'm your brother you can't do this to me...
Min ho scrambled to his feet, shouting about "family" and "loyalty," but Taehyung just looked at his own hands—the hands that were supposed to fix things.
Dr.Kim Taehyung
"I spent years learning how to put bodies back together," Tae said, his voice trembling with a cold, exhausted rage.
Dr.Kim Taehyung
"But you... you are a bone that refuses to set. And I’m done trying to cast you."
The heavy door slammed shut. The bolt clicked.
Taehyung leaned back against the wood, sliding down until he hit the floor. The apartment was silent, save for the hum of the refrigerator.
No cake. No candles. Just the realization that he was twenty-four years old soon to be twenty-five, successful, elegant, and completely alone in a dark room.
He looked at his watch. It was 10:58 PM. Sixty Two minutes of his birthday left.
He put his head in his hands and, for the first time since he started his career, he let the steady, professional therapist cry.
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