Survival Instinct // Namkook

chapter 1 - the deal

The following morning arrived in a muted wash of pale, ashen light filtering through the cracks in the decaying ceiling. The wind howled outside, louder and more menacing than before, rattling the loose window frames and sending an eerie whistle through the walls' crevices. Jungkook stirred awake with a sharp inhale, his body aching from the events of the previous night. Yet, what hit him first wasn’t the pain. It was the sound.

The usual chaos of the city—the distant rumble of scavengers, the roar of vehicles grinding over broken streets—was strangely absent. Instead, the wind had taken on a strange, oppressive weight, almost like it carried more than just the cold.

Slowly, Jungkook pushed himself upright, wincing as his muscles protested. His eyes adjusted to the dim light, landing on the figure across the room. Namjoon was already awake, seated against the wall, his eyes fixed on the window. His expression, as always, was impossible to read. The air between them was thick with unspoken tension.

Jungkook’s gaze followed Namjoon’s to the window. The sky outside was dark, swirling with storm clouds. But something was different. Something felt... wrong.

“What’s happening?” Jungkook’s voice came out hoarse from the lack of sleep, each word laced with unease.

Namjoon didn’t answer immediately. He stood, moving silently to the window, his tall frame casting a shadow over the room. His eyes, cold and distant, studied the storm outside with an intensity that made Jungkook’s stomach knot.

“Something bad’s coming,” Namjoon finally said, his voice low. “Worse than usual.”

The words sent a shiver down Jungkook’s spine. He forced himself to his feet, though his legs wobbled slightly from the stiffness. Limping toward the window, he glanced outside. The storm clouds hung heavy and unnatural, a sickly hue swirling through them. The wind wasn’t just fierce—it was filled with static, making the air feel thick and stifling.

He swallowed hard, a growing sense of dread pooling in his chest. This wasn’t just another storm. There was something more to it.

Jungkook’s mind raced. The plan to leave—the escape he had clung to—suddenly seemed foolish, dangerous even. The thought of braving the streets now, alone in the storm, made his heart race with fear. He had barely survived last night, and now, with the sky raging outside, he wasn’t sure if he’d last a minute, let alone an hour.

"Looks like I'm not leaving today, huh?" Jungkook muttered under his breath, hoping it would somehow prompt Namjoon to let him stay a little longer.

Namjoon’s head turned slightly, his sharp eyes locking on Jungkook, unreadable as always. “You wouldn’t last an hour out there,” he said flatly.

The remark stung, even if it was the truth. Jungkook clenched his jaw, fighting back the urge to bite back. He was in no position to argue—not with a man like Namjoon, especially after last night. His pride gnawed at him, but beneath it all, a small, twisted sense of relief settled in. At least it meant Namjoon wouldn’t throw him out. Not yet, anyway.

“Right,” Jungkook muttered, casting his eyes down. He hesitated, then dared to speak again, his curiosity getting the better of him. “But last night, you said you didn’t care if I made it or not. Why don’t you just let me go?”

Namjoon’s gaze didn’t waver. “If you want to go, the door’s right there,” he said coolly, a hint of amusement tugging at his lips. “I’m not in the mood to watch you die, but I won’t stop you.”

Jungkook tensed, unsure how to respond. The casual cruelty of Namjoon’s words caught him off guard, though it shouldn’t have. He wasn’t sure what to make of the man’s motivations. Cold and detached, sure, but there was something else beneath that, something he couldn’t quite place. Was Namjoon really indifferent to his fate, or was there a sliver of something else? Something human?