The night held them in a loving embraced. They were the darkness and all the life it held. Feared and forgotten warriors of old. Not good, not bad, but somewhere in the grey.
BTS X READER | based/ inspired of Ryan Kirks Nightblade trilogy. You DON'T...
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Jin had no right to dredge up the past like that. His words clung to (yn) 's skin like the steam in the bathhouse, suffocating and impossible to shake off.
As she stepped outside, the cool night air hit her face, but it did nothing to calm the hot flush in her cheeks. Her heart raced—a frantic mix of flusters, anger, and confusion that left her no better off than before. The memory of his gaze lingered as if daring her to say something, anything. But she couldn't. Not when her throat had tightened to the point of choking, and her thoughts had turned into a jumbled mess.
When Jin moved away to rinse his hair, she felt an overwhelming urge to escape. His back was turned, and she bolted out the door, her steps hurried, desperate to distance herself from him.
Standing outside, she gazed up at the sky, where the sun slowly sank beneath the horizon, casting a warm glow. The vibrant oranges and purples of the sunset struggled to break through the thick blanket of fog, softening the outlines of trees and hills in a ghostly way.
Enveloped in the quiet stillness of the mist, (y/n) felt an intense desire to get away, to run toward the distant hills that loomed like shadows against the fading light, their inviting curves calling out to her with an unexplainable allure.
It would be so easy to slip away under cover of night, to abandon everything behind her. Yet, deep down, she knew she couldn't bring herself to do it. Instead, she found herself trapped in a labyrinth, the weight of admittance pressing down on her chest, each shallow breath feeling like a struggle against an invisible force.
(Y/n) closed her eyes and felt the dense fog enveloping her body, muddying the lines between night and day.
She felt as though she were rolling through an abyss, overwhelmed and trapped in an inescapable despair. As if this feeling was her punishment for every misstep and moment slipped through her fingers.
Navigating it felt akin to traversing a burning inferno. A whirlwind enveloped (y/n), her heart ablaze with a smouldering rage that seemed to consume from within. Fragments of joyful memories surfaced, clawing at her soul with almost desperate urgency, yet they became lost in the heavy shadows of sorrow that refused to lift. The past and present merged, each painful ache standing firmly at her side.
She loved them.
(Y/n) loved them so deeply, the words lodged in her throat, unspoken and unacknowledged.
With a heavy heart, (y/n) peered through the shrouded veil of fog, her baleful eyes reflecting the setting sun. In the haze, there was no clarity.
Denial had woven itself intricately into her life, standing as a formidable shield that warded off the sharp edges of pain. Though now she wonder if it was causing more harm.
Deep down, she recognised that her refusal to confront her feelings was harmful. The situation around her was a dismal landscape, a wasteland of lost connections and stifled emotions. It was a self-imposed dungeon, cold and dark, where she had shackled herself in solitude.
