The Men in Black [Jikook]

21.5

BONUS

Jungkook was looking at the ground since a few minutes. His heart was beating slowly and his breathing was regular, while his eyes couldn't detach from the light parquet of his bedroom. Jimin went for Weekend together with his parents 2 days before and he'd see him the next day, but the youngest had the feeling that everything wouldn't be like he wanted. In a sense, he had the feeling to recover, that this craziness was going away when the older was telling him he loved him. He had the feeling to become normal as the same time as his boyfriend was granting him love. But he didn't know that he was wrong. The men in black knew how to hide, to make him suffer more at their arriving.

The black-purple haired young men looked at the time, his eyes raising hardly towards his clock on pedestal table which was next to his bed. 8PM. Everything seemed to be normal, but he couldn't prevent himself to be scared of their comeback. This feeling of insecurity returning his stomach at every moment he was blinking wasn't going away, and he had that constant fear of seeing these men in black after a single flutter of the eyelids. Even if he was more reassured because of Jimin's presence, his body was twisting because of nervousness, as if he was living in the ongoing question of life. Was he going to die or was he going to be strong ? That question was continually staying in his mind, even when he was sleeping.

Jungkook continued to think about Jimin for a dozen minutes. His brain showing him a perfect copy of his harmonious face, as if he wanted to give him the envy to grab the chance which would help him to survive. The teen could reason himself as much as he could, his love for his elder was too big, and even if he was hating himself for being gay, at times he was asking himself how he could have done to not fall in love with him. Even if he didn't like what he was, he was accepting himself from times to times because he was proud to be dazzled by this person who was making him happy.

Then whispers. Whispers being increasingly stronger until being transformed in screams. Jungkook plugged his ears and closed his eyes with violence, while his body huddled itself in the corner of his bedroom. They were back, and yet he had thought he made them flee. His hands weren't preventing anything, the screams that weren't ceasing to tell him to make him bleed were still as audible as before. Another evidence of the false reality that was showing to him, proving him again that his brain was the only responsible of that carnage.

He was all the more committing violence on himself to obligate his body to not open his eyelids, even a single instant. He was scared, scared to see them one more time, see their faces which didn't exist, see theirs clothes which were not. He was afraid to see their imaginary forms, but which seemed so real. His legs were shacking while they were against his torso, his head buried in his knees while he was trying to convince himself that all of that wasn't the reality. But yet he had the feeling that all that he was observing wasn't artificial.

The screams were becoming too loud and he couldn't prevent himself from removing his hands previously covering his ears. In any way they were useless, he knew it, but he had the hope at every recommencement that they could be useful. His eyes opened, he was tired of forcing on them while he could keep them opened and face them one more time. But he wasn't daring to raise them, afraid to cross with his gaze the soul of these disguised mowers. He knew that the death was stronger at every reappearance, but this time they had the goal to kill him.

Other whispers added up to the screams. At times he could hear "Bleed and we go away, cut your veins and it's finished, at least a few moments of freedom", and despite Jimin's recommendations he was believing in it, even though he knew that all of that was the only figment of his imagination. His eyes raised for an instant, his pupils meeting the black cloth of one of the three men that were facing him, he we could call them "Men" instead of "monsters". At this simple visual contact, a plaintive scream left his mouth, while his eyes closed as fast as they opened. He was terrified.