Shadow Dancing | K.TH

Dreaming

"Here— you haven't taken your daily prescription yet, right?" I inquire as I struggle with the top of the medicine bottle. Some idiot had screwed it on way too tight after taking some out last time, and now I was left to pay the price.

"Wait."

V takes the white container from me and easily twists open the top, plucking out two capsules and dropping each one down his throat. My heart warms as he loosely screws the cap back on, consideration for next time if I had to be the one opening it.

"Are you okay now?"

When he nods, I break into a huge smile as I pull him up to his feet. It takes a couple tries, but finally I manage to make him walk out of the confinements of his room.

"No offense, V," I comment as I scan the bland room. It wouldn't be an understatement to say that it looked exactly the same as his last one. All that decorated the spacious place was just a bed, a desk, and nothing much after that.

"But your room looks kind of boring."

A light brush of air escapes his lips, which is tilted upwards in amusement. His hand is warm and soft against my cold upper arm as he leads me down the stairs.

"Of course."

I almost melt.

When we reach the living room, I see Jimin splayed out on Yoongi's beanbag chair— the one he'd specifically warned us not to touch, to look at, and definitely not to use.

Unfortunately for him, no one really cared about the consequences.

"So..." He drags out casually, his eyes darting from me to V and back. Even though his stance is perfectly relaxed, I can see him practically itching to hear what had happened.

When I glance at V, I see his fingers clasping and unclasping behind his back. A tiny bead of sweat had formed on the side of his head, which is enough evidence for me to know that he didn't really want anyone else to know.

And who was I to spill his secrets?

"He just needed some medication, that's all." I say lightly, concealing the real reason behind his taking. "And he's hungry. Right?"

"Sure."

Then I hear the sound of the front door clicking open, revealing five distraught men looking like someone ran over them with a truck. But the moment they see Jimin awake and well, the fatigue seems to wash off them like dirt after a refreshing shower.

"Jiminie!" Hoseok shouts, his frown replaced with his signature grin. The older man immediately bounds over to him and envelopes him with a tight hug.

"So glad you're awake— how are you feeling? Any pain in the areas you were shot? Any fatigue? Stress?"

"I'm fine, hyung." Jimin says brightly, smiling the sheepish smile that I hadn't realized I'd missed so much. It was funny how bad you could miss something that you'd always took for granted after that particular thing was taken away from you.

"It looks like you need more rest than me," He jokes when he notices Yoongi fling himself onto the beanbag chair, the loud crackle of the pellets drowning his last words.

But the laughter is sucked out of his features when Yoongi asks suspiciously.

"Did someone use my chair?"

For some reason, I shift back a little as I watch Jimin's cheeks go from a healthy rose color to a deathly pale. The giggling threatens to burst from my lips as he starts stuttering an unbelievable excuse.

"N-nobody."

When Yoongi raises his finger and wags it toward him in a motion for the poor boy to come, I can hear Jimin swallow from all the way here. The others watch with pursed smiles as Yoongi whacks Jimin's head with a rolled up newspaper, finally not being able to contain the contagious laughter when Yoongi pokes at Jimin's nose.

"No touching my stuff again— got it? I'm only letting you off easy because you got shot three times and that still didn't knock some common sense in you."

Then with a satisfied look, Yoongi tugs a blanket free from under the couch and over his eyes. Under the thick covers, he mutters sleepily, "Now I'm going to take a nap, and I'm not joking when I say that I'm going to annihilate the first person that wakes me up."

Jin nods in agreement, his lips stretched into a drowsy yawn. Even though we'd slacked off at the house while they were gone, they had just gone through a tiring mission that had left even the energetic maknae dozing off on the couch.

"Alright, everyone. I'm officially issuing that every single person here is going to sleep for the next hour or so—" He gives a glance at the three of us, who are already inching away from the others. "And especially you three."

Crap.

Grumbling to myself, I retreat into my assigned room with Jin's eye on me. I still regretted not being fast enough to have my pick on the rooms when we'd first arrived here— everyone had already chosen the most spacious, cozy, and quiet ones before I'd gotten a chance to take a pick.

And now I was stuck with a room that, even though was modern and stylish, was too small and "cozy" — as Jin had put it— compared to the other ones.

But anything was better than the living space my father had provided for me.

Blowing out a breath, I flop limply on the rumpled bedsheets and do a little snow angel in the blankets before settling in comfortably. Maybe a little sleep would be helpful— there was something like fatigue pulling at the back of my mind, getting stronger as I thought about it.

With the cool afternoon wind tickling my nose and the sun's warmth against my toes, I lightly press the pillow to my head and close my eyes.

Maybe I'd dream.

About happiness, meadows of wildflowers and the spring breeze dance with my hair.

Or maybe about the life I'd live here, filled with Jungkook's adorable childishness, Yoongi's savage comments, and Hoseok's continuous fussing.

That would have to include beating Namjoon in more chess games, Jin's cringeworthy dad jokes, and Jimin's eye smile that could melt even the coldest of hearts.

Or best of all, it would be about V and his velvet voice, his eyes, his lips.

Hear him laugh, see him smile like nothing else mattered.

Feel his silky hair under my grip and graze my fingertips against the gentle
curve of his neck.

Kiss him.

And pretend it could last forever.