Dark Skies

Red Roses

Jimin's POV

I sighed, pulling the duvet over her body and smoothing her hair out over the pillow. Her chest rose and fell lightly, reminding me that she was still breathing. I perched myself on the edge of the bed and ran my fingers through my hair. There was nothing left to do but wait for her to wake up. 

If she ever does wake up

Wincing, I stumbled away from the bed, my back hitting the stone cold wall. A low cry erupted from my chest as I remembered what I had confessed earlier on that day. The look on her face when she came to the realisation of the words that had left my mouth. The pure and utter devastation when she ran out of the room, not even bothering to close the door behind her. I had watched in slow motion as she fought her way through the officers and out into the open air, not stopping to take a breath. 

Slamming my fist down onto the table I shouted,

"I've lost her. You made me confess and I lost her. Are you happy now?!" 

The officer looked taken aback by my actions and made an attempt to calm me down. But just like her I left the room and ran, not caring for what they had to say to me. 

I lost sight of Rihanna amongst all of the people, and I cursed under my breath. After hearing what she had just heard I didn't trust her with her own self. I willed myself to continue looking and not stop until I found her. 

I looked down at her now. I was glad to have her back and safe but, was she really safe with me? I had lost all trust in myself. 

There was nothing left for me to do so I stood up and took in a shaky breath, making my way over to the door. 

I did just as she had done today. Turned my back and ran before I could change my mind.

***

Rihanna's POV

I stirred in my sleep, finally becoming free of the nightmares that had been patrolling my mind all through the night. My eyes fluttered open slightly, letting a sliver of light filter through. My head felt heavy and my legs felt limp. A stinging sensation pricked the skin on my face and I tugged my arm out from beneath the duvet. My fingers began to trace the small cuts that ran along my jaw, the contact making them burn. Confused as to why I felt this way, I attempted to sit up, only to plummet back down towards the mattress again. I rolled my head into my pillow and groaned, stamping my feet like a child having a tantrum. 

Then it hit me like a 10 tonne truck. 

The events of yesterday washed over me like a wave and my whole body went numb. My chest tightened and I took in a sharp breath, now sitting upright. 

I remembered the bitter words that I had been told. I remembered the shock when I realised exactly what he had said. I remembered the nausea that hit me when I began to understand that actually, 

Min Yoongi wasn't dead

I remembered the feeling of the wind hitting my face as I ran, trying to be anywhere but in that dreadful room with Jimin, and a stranger that knew more about this whole situation than even I did. I remembered flashing lights and the warmth of someone's hand in mine and another pressed up against my back. I remembered the cold ground beneath me and the dull ache that spread through my head and neck as I blacked out into nothing. 

Then came the fainter memories, 

Someone holding me and whispering desperately in my ear, the warmth of their breath on my neck and tickling my ear. 

"Please Rihanna. I need you. I need you right now more than I have ever needed anyone" 

"I'm sorry. I never meant for this to happen. Don't leave me. The only reason I did all of this was so that I didn't have to watch you suffer any more"  

"If you don't wake up...I won't be able to live with myself" 

My blood began to boil and my hands shook violently. 

Jimin had made his choice to forgive me for all of my mistakes. But I just couldn't do the same. Not after what he had done. It was Jimin's decision to forgive and forget but now this was my decision. And mine was to just forget. 

I fumbled around in the draws beside my bed, welcoming the feeling of the leather against my fingertips. Breathing a sigh of relief, I opened it up and looked hopefully down at the thin pages. It was still valid. Without that I wouldn't be going anywhere. 

The ground felt uneven beneath me as I made my way over to the cupboard, yanking it open. Dodging the items falling out, I reached in and clasped my fingers around the handle of my suitcase. I dragged it out behind me and rested it down on the floor, glancing up at everything that had fallen out of the cupboard. I almost didn't dare look. Items that I had willed to be forgotten lay in front of my very eyes. I scanned over them, getting hooked on a small piece of gold paper. 

I knelt down to retrieve it, the pace of my heartbeat rising. Smoothing the paper out in my hand, I started to read it. Each word sparked up a different memory and emotion that I had once felt. I smiled weakly to myself. 

"Red Roses, 

They remind me of you,

Enchanting and vibrant, 

Beautiful too. 

Red Roses, 

the colour of blood, 

But no matter what happens, 

I hope I'm enough. 

If we lose all we love,

If we get back all we lost, 

I want you to know that it was worth what it cost." 

I knew that Jimin had poured his heart out into this poem and every time I read it, it made me feel like I was back in middle school receiving a love letter from a secret admirer. But those days were over. 

I positioned my hands at the top of the paper and hesitated before pulling down, tearing it in two. I watched as it floated to the ground, settling beside me. 

He wrote about Red Roses because they were my favourite flowers. Ever since the day he sent me that letter, a bunch of the roses would appear outside my door almost every week. Yoongi used to get suspicious and ask me who they were from, but I just told him that it was a fan. Believe it or not, I gained quite a wide fan base as I started to get associated more with Bangtan. I never really wanted to be famous, I was one of the very few that didn't, but it just happened naturally. However now, I was almost certain that the whole fan base hated me. To be honest, I didn't blame them. 

I found myself wondering what would happen if the news got out that Jimin had helped fake Yoongi's death. I wondered what would become of him and the other boys. I wondered what had become of me. 

Hours passed of me shoving various items into my suitcase, and every so minutes I had to remind myself of why I was prepared to do this, to leave my whole life behind. But I had done it before...there was no saying I couldn't do it again. 

Standing up, I took one last look at my now empty room and made my way over to the door.

Here goes nothing

I pulled it open to see a young man standing there, 

with bright orange hair and a bunch of red roses in his arms.