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it is dark and there is not a single light in sight. yoongi doesnt know where he is, nor where he is headed to. it has been hours, or maybe just mere minutes since he started walking aimlessly in this big dark place he couldnt make sense of and he just keeps stepping forward, hoping his feet will bring him somewhere safe but the more he walks, the darker it gets; his eyes still not used to the pitch darkness. he feels his face going numb with cold as the wind passes through his face, and realises that he is crying with how cool his face feels suddenly. his hands rise to wipe at his tears which he is aware of now, but he cant.
he just cant because his hands dont move from their place behind his back and he tugs on harder, on a firm knot he just have became conscious about.
the more he pulls the deeper they dig in his wrists and it just hurts to bad; it is burning and probably cutting his skin and he just starts crying harder.
it is all too much at once and he just halters to a stop and crouches on the ground which passes its coldness to his shaking body, his feet naked except some socks he remembers putting on when he came home that day, wanting nothing but to sleep for a few decades. he doesnt know what happened after he changed clothes and headed to his balcony for a smoke, but suddenly found himself in the cold. he doesnt know which power has made him walk this far, in the dark, for hours; but he feels it leaving his frail body as his sobs get louder and wetter. he miserably tries to breath steadier, his chest rising and lowering rapidly in his crouched position on the ground and his back hurts from the arch it is forced to make.
and then he feels it, the burning eyes of someone and he gasps loudly. in his panicked state he struggles to rise to his feet, but the one behind him is quicker; cold and harsh hands grabbing his nape and pushing it lower; his spine arching dangerously. a frightened whimper leaves his lips but he cant scream, cant control his breathing to make any sound besides whimpers and cutten-short whines and it just makes him cry harder.
the hand grips his slim neck tighter and sneaks its way around it; curling around his windpipe, causing yoongi to shake with the sharp nails digging into his flushed skin. then the fingers tighten even more, cutting yoongi’s air for a moment and yoongi is left gasping for some air, his throat constricting but to no avail.
his ears ring with the deafening sound of wind blowing and he thinks he hears words for a second but it is smothered under the whistling. he gasps and thrashes on the ground, his spine curling further as the hand on his nape pushes his head lower. he fears that it will break under the force it is shoved ahead and tries to shake his head out of the lock it is held in; the image appearing on his mind and turning his blood cold. but it fades as he feels himself slipping, the darkness now an amalgam of colours dancing before his eyes.
it is the end thinks yoongi, his eyes rolling back to his skull. it is the end and this is the way i am going to die, out in the cold, but then he hears the wind stop howling; the freezing air getting warmer and warmer by second and then the hand hardens for a last moment before it loosens and is leaving him to pant, the air rushing into his lungs after so long and making him cough with the burning sensation.
this time when he tugs on the unvisible knot around his wrists, he feels them coming apart, moving on his sides and his trembling fingers of one hand digging into the floor to steady him and he cries in relief, his forehead leaning on the ground.
tears keep flooding and washing his face, with his nose buried in the ground he inhales and feels giddly with the dust filling his nostrils. his spent out body rolls to its side as he sneezes, only then feeling how tough the surface is.
he rubs his throat with one hand, the movement making the muscles of his arm ache.
after a deep breath, he rolls to his back, taking a few moments before finally opening his eyes.
the navy blue sky stretches before his eyes, numerous stars shining among all and winking at him even through the dirty city air. he sucks in a breath in relief, tears flowing more and more to his burning eyes, running down his cheeks and wetting his nape.
his sense comes back to him then, how he couldnt find his lighter and probably fell asleep on the ground he crouched down on, with strong annoyance towards himself. he reaches for the little box with shaking hands, left open and lying on the floor beside him and puts one between his lips, then tossing it aside, but doesnt make an effort to rise to his feet; sitting on the cold hard ground.
a minute or so passes as he tries to think of a place he might have left his lighter, the one his friend seokjin bought him as a gag gift with a cringey line about friendship. his studio comes to his mind first, but he can clearly remember he—
“-wouldnt it be better lit?” comes a voice from close, making him flinch and drop the cigarette between his lips.
“f-fuck,” he mumbles, taking it but it is already covered in dust, he really should clean here sometime—
“sorry,” comes from the same voice, a man standing on the balcony across his looking at him sheepishly.
“‘s fine,” he mutters back, reaching for a new one and spares a glance to the man, who is actually just a boy; mostly eighteen, and is standing too close, close enough to jump into his balcony if he wanted to. another cigarette finds its place between his chapped lips and he stands, stepping forward and lifts his eyes to look into the stranger’s eyes.
“what?” asks the boy, his face giving of the puzzlement he must be feeling.
“wont you help me with that?” says yoongi, the stick between his lips making his speech even more sluggish.
yoongi watches as the boy’s face lightens with realization and lets out an “oh!” before turning around and grabbing a lighter from the little counter under the window. his hands shake as he lights it and shields his hand to prevent the wind from blowing it out. yoongi leans further to get the stick to the fire, exhaling deeply. their eyes meet in that second, holding onto each other’s gaze for several seconds. only when yoongi realises that his cigarette is burning out that he leans back.
“thanks, kid.” yoongi says and goes to sit back on the ground. he observes the boy stuttering some words that doesnt reaches his ears. his eyes travel all the way from his pretty face with all doe eyes and cute bunny front teeth to his contrastingly sharp jaw line under the dim moonlight. despite his face looking like it belongs to a mere teenager, his body is built like an adult’s; clearly taller and bulkier than the lithe body of yoongi’s. just as he senses his mind going to places it shouldnt at this ungodly hour, the boy clears his throat, leaning back on his left foot and crossing his arms across his chest, “‘m not a kid.”
“yeah, sure.” yoongi lets out a chuckle and lets his head rest against the wall he is leaning to without breaking eye contact.
“i- i am not! i am twenty one! can even drink in the usa,“ he exclaims, his chest puffing out as he mentions the fact.
yoongi laughs loudly at that, holding the stick far away between his pale bony fingers as he doubles up with laughter and tears come back to his eyes. the boy watches him bewildered, a cute pout slowly forming on his face.
yoongi tries to calm down, to apologize for being rude but it is probably way past midnight and he cant find a pitch of sanity left in himself to stop. the boy watches him as he starts coughing then, his throat constricting and burning with the force of it.
“s-sorry-“ he gets out before another fit. the latter one passes quicker and then he is leaning back on the wall, taking a huge gulp of air before lifting the cigarette back to his lips.
“maybe you shouldnt do that,” whines the kid and yoongi smiles,
“yea, no shit. thanks for the advice, mom; i will surely consider that.” grunts yoongi back, sarcasm dripping from his voice.
the boy rolls his eyes at his response but chuckles. they stare at each other for a while until the stranger goes to sit on the ground, too.
“jungkook,”
“what?” croaks yoongi. his throat feels drier than before as the smoke fills his lungs, “couldnt catch that?”
“my name, it is jungkook.” replies the boy. a small smile tugs the corners of his lips upwards.
a full minute passes before he talks again, “you are not gonna tell me yours?” mumbles, the smile falling.
“how old are you again?” yoongi enquires, something similar to mischief shining in his eyes.
“uhm, twenty-“ yoongi stands suddenly, cutting the boy short and puts the cigarette out before throwing it aside.
“yoongi,” he speaks with a firmer tone,
“so those legs of yours, how strong are they?”
jungkook looks at him dumbfounded for a second before replying, “um, pretty much, i guess? i do leg-press—“
“jump then,” cuts yoongi, sending a teasing smile his way before turning back and disappearing into the darkness of his house.
“w-what?!” asks the younger with shock.
“jump!” comes from the inside, startling the boy, “come on, i am not gonna wait for long!”
jungkook rushes to his feet, dropping the lighter in his palm in his hurry and looks to the ground below his balcony, to how high it is but yoongi’s balcony is just as close, so he just has to stretch his leg just a little bit. he lifts one leg, sees that it actually reaches to the other balcony’s metal bars and-
“oh, for godsake, JUMP!!”
and he jumps.