forty five

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fire, shoot out the words
'it’s over'

I ran as fast as I could, stumbling blindly through doors and across rooms, trying to escape an enemy I didn't even recognize

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I ran as fast as I could, stumbling blindly through doors and across rooms, trying to escape an enemy I didn't even recognize.

All I could hear were gunshots, yelling, and heavy bodies crashing through glass. Maybe if I had known what the threat was, I would have been more scared, but all I felt was confusion.

I cursed mentally as I remembered that the last gun I'd been given had been lost the time I had encountered Lay in that alleyway. The place where it was supposed to be hurt, like a phantom pain, and I felt unevenly balanced without it. Like something important was missing.

Somewhere along my weak attempts to get away, Taehyung had materialized next to me, a gun wrapped up in his long fingers, a look of pure hatred on his face. He grabbed the back of my jacket and forced me flat behind a wall next to the door we had just entered through, as a couple of masked figures came through it.

By this time, my mind had arrived at the conclusion that our attackers were probably the bikers. My chief concern was still Taeyong's presence, but as I watched Taehyung raise his gun and take a few shots at the leather-clad men, my heart closed in on itself.

"Stop fucking shooting!" I yelled, fingers digging into his wrist as we ran again, feeling muscle and hot skin and the feeling of being condemned.

He fixed one of his dark glares on my face, slapping away my hand and baring his teeth in a sneer, so unlike the wild but chivalrous boy I had once been attracted to. In some twisted way, I knew this was the lesson I'd learnt, that I couldn't trust anyone, ever.

"If I wanted to kill them, they'd be dead," he said, looking venomous. I was hit with the memory of the tiger tattoo on his back, and almost asked him why—but it was obvious, wasn't it?

"That doesn't help." I hated how fragile and brittle and weak my voice sounded. "Killing someone you don't—"

"Know?" He grinned, looking feral, his long fingers closing around mine. The gesture would have looked protective to an onlooker, but his grip cut into my skin like a knife. "Don't talk about shit you don't understand."

I wanted to open my mouth, to bie back with a reply just as scathing, but there was no time as we tore up the stairs connecting the next hallway to the room. By the time we were on the first floor, I was panting, sucking in breaths that felt dry and sharp in my lungs. Taehyung gave me a last look and told me to get myself somewhere safe, and left.

The sounds were getting louder, but I didn't think anyone was up here yet. Even though I had been here multiple times, I had never explored the building beyond the ground floor, and was utterly lost by the time I took my third turn.

If I concentrated hard enough, I could hear people downstairs, but the only thing I could do was shut up and pray that everyone I wanted to be safe was safe. Minhyuk had been quiet throughout the entire discussion, and I hadn't stayed long enough to see where he'd gone, but I hoped that he hadn't been shot and bled while by now.

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