Once a Killer

11

Hi friends, I'm back with a new part!!! I hope y'all are doing well :) I realise it's been Quite A While – it's mostly because I've been kinda stuck on the ending, but I've finally decided to (mostly) keep it as I originally wrote it and upload the final few parts!! I hope you enjoy them despite the long break; either way, thank you for sticking with me, it means a lot💕

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You flex your fingers, clenching them into a fist and relaxing. Your knuckles are aching– it feels like your skin is on fire underneath the fraying white bandages wrapped around your hand. You let out a breath, trying to shake off the pain and jumping back into position even though the ache doesn't fade.

Breathing in, you raise your fists and narrow your eyes at the heavy bag in front of you. With a sharp outbreath, you punch. Right, left, right, left, uppercut. Your heart is pounding in your chest and your muscles are burning in protest, but you ignore it all. Right, left, right, right. The harsh thuds echo through the deserted gym, your sneakers squeaking against the red mat covering the floor. Weights, rowing machines, strength training equipment, treadmills are scattered across the large room. It should feel full and crowded – but with no one else there, it just feels eerie. It's not exactly a surprise you're here alone; only a lunatic would work out past midnight. And despite the strange sensation you get being here on your own, you're glad of it.

The silence doesn't help, though, and your mind drifts off to mere hours earlier. The harsh bang, bang, bang of a gun rings in your ears, reverberates through your entire chest. A softer thud sounds as someone collapses to the ground, shrill screams piercing your ears as a pool of dark red blood stains the pavement, a muffled siren shrieking in the distance.

You blink, shake your head, and the sounds fade just enough to not make you seize up. Gritting your teeth, you punch again. Right, left, left, right, left.

But even as you continue, the images come screaming back. A pair of wide, lifeless eyes stares up at the night sky, shimmers in the street lights and bright neon signs. The ringing in your ears overpowers everything; the screams around you, Jungkook calling out your name, even your own blood rushing in your ears. Right, left, right, left. A dull pain punches you back in your knuckles, shoots up your arms. You curse under your breath, forcing your cramped fist to relax and shaking out your hands yet again.

Squeezing your eyes closed, you shake your head and will away the tears burning in your eyes. Almost unconsciously, your fist cramps up again, your fingernails digging into the soft bandage covering your palm as your mind flashes to that roof, imagining Yoongi's finger wrapping around the trigger, pulling it like it's nothing, unflinching as the gun punches into his shoulder with the recoil. Your breathing quickens and you shake your head, opening your eyes again and focusing your blurry vision on the punching bag in front of you. Bang, bang, bang. You bite down on your tongue, punching again without caring about form, randomly hitting the bag wherever you can manage it. Every hit echoes loudly in your ears, as if the sound is magnified a hundredfold.

A door slams closed, and it hits you like thunder.

You jolt and whirl around, taking in a sharp breath– only to relax when your eyes fall on Taehyung standing in the doorway, his cheeks flushed, his hands buried in the pockets of his long, dark coat.

"Hi."

An inevitable smile pulls at your lips and your shoulders deflate, your chest still heaving with exertion. "Hey."

Taehyung walks towards you as you approach him, his sneakers shuffling across the scuffed vinyl floor. He smiles back at you, his eyes almost hidden behind the dark hair that falls messily over his forehead. "Jungkook said you might be down here."