Finding you [Part 2 of 'It's watching']

Two [Lost]

It was like watching a movie, the most gut wrenching horror film you could possibly imagine. He could see the form of Jungkook, he could hear the familiar voice of his boyfriend and watch the expression on the mans face grow more and more concerned as the days dragged on. It was only in blinks, heartbreaking flashes that he could find his love. He was lost in a recess of his mind that aided his sanity. It was like he was sleeping, dreaming of the life he ached to live with Jungkook, until he would wake up for just a moment to see the pain on his face. He tried to scream, but all he could hear was Jongseok's laughter surrounding him. Gone, that's all Jimin was.

He'd given up fighting, because it'd been proven to be his inevitable loss. Nothing he did released him, gave him control. Jongseok wouldn't give him his life back, not even for a moment. He was allowed a lonely look into reality, whenever Jungkook was at his worst. It was meant to torture Jimin, and the man was well aware of it. But Jimin needed to see Jungkook's face, if just so he wouldn't forget it.

His thoughts were not private, his plots to escape the hell he'd come to know were heard as he plotted them. Jongseok was much stronger than he and he had become aware of his eternal fate. Nobody would save him.

Just one day. Jimin had begged, pleaded for only a day with Jungkook. I won't tell. He'd pursued, but Jongseok was cruel and heartless, a demon in his mind. A day, an hour, a minute, no. He couldn't have a second with Jungkook, to hold him, kiss him, whisper an I love you in his ear as he slept. Jongseok was a monster, an evil man even darker in death, living through his body to get what he wanted.

He never saw the things the dirty man did while in his safe space of his mind, but small sounds would creep in sometimes from present reality. Putting together the pieces of what was happening, the man using his own flesh and blood, was more than Jimin could bare. It made him sick to imagine the horrible, indecent things he was doing with his body. Jungkook would find out and that's where it would become truly devastating. Jungkook couldn't know the truth, that Jimin wasn't betraying him in a way that could never be reversed. He couldn't know that a Jimin was screaming for him, his heart bleeding from the wounds of their separation. He couldn't know that Jimin was gone.

A bright light illuminated his space, the way it did when Jongseok would share a piece of the present with Jimin. He could always choose to see or not to, but Jimin could never bring himself to look away. The vision of an unfamiliar location presents itself through the pair of eyes that used to be his own, a room with walls painted sky blue. Pretty, comforting in a way. A woman came into focus, her hair chopped short, only brushing her bare shoulders. Her lips were parted in a way that made Jimin squirm. Her eyes, a deep set brown, pierced through him. He could hear Jongseok cackling. Her chest was nude and her dark eyes closed as she threw back her head.

No! Jimin screamed and he could only see red. He closed his eyes, the ones he didn't have any control of anymore, to rid his vision of the impurity before him. He could still hear her shrill voice, squealing under his body. But it wasn't Jimin. He didn't want it, he couldn't make it stop. Then it did, as Jongseok sent him back to his only sanctuary. It wasn't peaceful, it was lonely and dark, but it wasn't the hell of seeing what his reality had become. It was always better than that.

It was a punishment, seeing a piece of Jongseok's lifestyle, for thinking of Jungkook, for imagining his handsome face, for speaking to the man he loved in the only falsified way he could. Jongseok would make threats, growing tired of hearing Jimin's thoughts and wounded pleading. He would threaten to hurt Jungkook, mentally, emotionally, sometimes physically, if Jimin didn't cooperate with his demands. He was forced into his space of solitude, even his thoughts monitored and scrutinized. If it wasn't hell, Jimin couldn't imagine what hell would be beyond his endless session or torture. Jimin wished for death to come. It would be a relief if his body wilted into nothing. How much longer could he go on like this?

Time passed as slow as paint drying on a wall, minutes feeling like days and days feeling like years. Jimin couldn't be sure of how much time had passed, but he didn't know how much longer he could waste away in his lonely existence. Was he even truly existing anymore?

Sleep as his only possible escape from Jongseok, Jimin drifted into slumber, hoping to dream only of his life with Jungkook. It was the only way to see him, to love him, to hold him close.