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Namjoon stared.
He stood in front of him, face battered and bruised, lips cut, with his hands tied behind him with ropes. He seemed to had not eaten for days.
"What brings you here, mister?" Seokjin's cheer was unmistakable despite the hoarseness of his voice.
Namjoon gulped. His mouth had dried at the sight of him, so helpless behind the bars. "I could still save you," he replied, going straight to the point. "I could still... I could still save you. We can escape. Look, I'd let you go, let's run away," he started rambling, "Let's go far, far away from this place. We'd get on a ship and--"
"Why are you so adamant on saving me?" Seokjin's eyes were positively twinkling with mirth. Despite the condition he was in, he looked amused.
"What?" He replied dumbly.
"You want to save me," the other said, "Why?"
I love you, he wanted to say. I love you. But he didn't. Instead, what he said was: "I don't want to watch you die."
Seokjin smiled kindly, and somehow, Namjoon hated it all the more. "Then don't. Tomorrow, when they execute me, close your eyes."
But like the first time they met, he still couldn't help it that his eyes stayed on Seokjin's form throughout it all.