✨MY LIGHT IN THE DARK ✨ || JIKOOK ✅

24.

JIMIN POV

The station was on edge.

It made sense since there was
a shooting here but I didn't
like that our secretary glanced
up at the front door every
other minute or Sheriff Jones paced around the outside of
the outer workspace
instead of hiding in his office.

Last night Jih and I had
walked out of the station at
the end of a long day, still frustrated with our go-
nowhere case, walking in
circles with evidence that
had not revealed anything new.

"Come over to our house
for dinner."

"Jungkook's gonna be mad
if all the food's gone when he gets back from the hospital."

Jih had teased but I could
see that he was leaning
toward yes.

"Tacos, man."

"He cooks for an army."

"All I have to do is throw the meat in the oven and we
need to cut up some
veggies and stuff."

Pops filled the air rapid
and unexpected.

I've heard gunshots before, they'd even been fired at
me before and yet it still
surprised me.

We both ducked toward
the ground and darted
our attention around us.

We were right outside of the station and this wasn't a
place deputies or detectives,
normally had their guard up.

This was our turf and the
fact that people were
shooting at us there took
a long moment to register.

We shared a look of shock.

Jih dragged me toward a
garbage can and I followed
once my brain kicked into gear.

We hunkered down behind it.

We didn't have a visual on whoever was shooting so from there we raced low to crouch behind a nearby cruiser.

We must have attracted attention because it rocked against us from the impact
of a fresh hail of bullets on
the other side.

A window popped and
shattered, raining glass
around us.

I almost breathed a sigh of
relief, thinking we had
dodged a bullet and we were surrounded by cops so the shooting would stop soon.

But then I noticed Jih's face
was too pale, his eyes
slightly out of focus.

I looked around for a wound
and found a red patch
against his side.

"Fuck, you're hit."

"Yes." he replied, stoic.

But it was clear he was still running on adrenaline
because he didn't even
move to cradle the injury.

In the background, feet
pounded the ground and shouting gave me hope.

Gunshots rang out and they
were the blasts of standard
issue side arms.

Sheriff Jones came into sight,
his disheveled bald head not even covered by his hat as he ducked behind the garbage
can we'd abandoned and
stood enough to take aim.

More pops. He ducked.

Sirens began to go off.

Screaming took over near
by on the streets from
pedestrians who must
have walked out into this.

But all I could focus on
was my partner, bleeding
worse, even as I stared.

The trickle on his side
turned into a gush.