𝓐𝓷𝓰𝓮𝓵 𝓸𝓯 𝓓𝓮𝓪𝓽𝓱

ⓒⓗⓐⓟⓣⓔⓡ ⓕⓞⓤⓡ

Jungkook gave the exact change to the cashier, then grabbed his pack of cigarettes and bag of chips off the counter. His leg had gotten better, he could walk around a little more. He exited the shop and leaned back on the wall next to the door. He light up a cigarette and took a deep breath of the thick, soothing smoke. He sighed the smoke out, unsure what he was supposed to do with his day. He usually spent his days scouring and messing around, until the night called for him, until he found himself in a bar or a club.

After his cigarette, he sniffed himself and decided it'd be time for a long, hot shower. He had forgotten how intensely he had danced the night before... how excited he felt when his dark knight came to his rescue. He shook the thought off. It all seemed too improbable. Either he imagined it all or it was pure coincidence. Alcohol could make you see things; he knew that from experience. He looked quickly to the left, feeling someone's presence. But there was no one. He guessed he was probably going crazy.

Stepping into his apartment, he started undressing as he moved slowly to his shower. As he turned the knob of the shower, he studied himself in the mirror. Bruises, scars, scabs, covered his toned body. He ran his fingers across the stitches on his stomach, remembering the man's delicate touch. He really tried to shake that man out of his thoughts, he honestly tried so hard. Whether it was his imagination or reality, that look in his eyes and those pink lips were impossible to forget. He trailed his fingers upwards, to his lip, where the man had also touched him. He licked the tip of his finger, bit down hard on it. Maybe he should have done that to the man.

"He smokes," Taehyung told himself. "Gross."

He kicked the pebbles on the ground, frustrated. He then walked around the town, feeling lost. As the hours passed he felt more and more irritated. He had not killed in a week. His hands twitched at the thought of taking a life, growing excited. All he could think of was gliding a blade across that man's chest, seeing it rise as he took a deep breath in, caught in between pain and fear. It was a scene he had now dreamed of two nights in a row. He wanted to see those big brown eyes filled with fear. He had to do it. Tonight would be the night. Yes, tonight. Perfect. The voices approved. They got excited.

He went back to his apartment to set up the place where he would kill him. Sometimes he would do it in his bathroom, sometimes in his bedroom. Turning sex into murder was always very thrilling to him. He made sweet, rough love to his victims, and watched their gaze turn from pleased to scared out of their minds. An exciting sight.

He eventually decided to do it in his bathroom. It was easier to clean up, and he knew he would make a mess with him. Men always made more of a mess; they liked to fight back. He set up the chair right in the middle, over the drain, put his knife kit and handcuffs in the cupboard.

When everything was set up, he sat down in his living room, waiting for nine o'clock sharp. He only had four hours to kill. However, an idea popped into his mind. A great idea. An exciting one.

Jungkook woke up screaming, his body covered in sweat. He looked around in panic, looking for someone. His hand instinctively went up to his neck, checking if there was not a huge cut there. It was a dream, he reassured himself. He took a couple of seconds to calm down, breathing in and out at a soothing rhythm. Since when was he afraid of death, anyways? The clock read eight o'clock, the sun had set. He got out of bed and sighed at the sight of his sweat-covered body. He would have to wash himself again. He walked through his dark apartment and swore when he knocked his little toe against the couch. Usually he could guide himself without bumping into anything in the dark. He ran his hand across his damp hair, and slowly turned around. No one.

"I'm turning into a goddamn paranoid" he mumbled to himself.

He grabbed his cellphone from the kitchen counter and walked slowly towards the bathroom, checking his social media. Nothing, as usual. Who would want to talk to a loser like him, anyways? The only attention he got was from his suggestive pictures on his snapchat. He was far from a prude, and definitely liked the attention his body got him, but sometimes he wished someone would be interested in his mind for once. He put on a playlist and let his phone near the sink, raising the volume to the max. He turned the knob of the shower and observed himself once again. The cuts. His touch.

He stepped in the shower and put his head under the hot water. Completely covered by the water, he felt protected. He felt safe. The warm water felt like a mother's touch. Like nothing in the world was wrong, like he was happy. The music stopped, but he did not question it. It happened often enough, his phone was getting a little old and had this tendency of doing things on its own.

The man crossed his thought again. He embraced the thought, as he had been the highlight of his life in the past days. As much as he wanted to die, for everything to end, he was curious about that man. He wanted to know more; to live another day and get the chance to meet him again. He was so deep in thought that he even felt his hand on his stomach, where the cut was. His imagination ran wild as the hand trailed upwards, digging its nails into his pec. He was indeed going crazy. He felt the imaginary man's naked body pressed against him. Another hand ran downwards his thigh, skimming across the cut over his knee. Jungkook moaned as he thought he felt the man's plump lips trail across his neck and shoulder.

He gasped as the trailing hand grabbed his neck and a sharp edge threatened his stomach. He stood stiff, realizing that this was not his imagination. Someone was actually behind him.