Dancing With The Devil

square one.

Emrie's POV

My blood had soaked through the gauze overnight. I needed to rewrap it but Jin was at the hospital. The house was awfully quiet today. Jimin and Taehyung went on a mission. Namjoon was probably in his office as usual. Hobi had gone to the hospital to pick up Yoongi. Jungkook was avoiding me as much as I was avoiding him. There wasn't anyone around for me to bother and the only person I was comfortable talking to was Jin, but he was out.

I walked down to the infirmary to rewrap my bandages myself. The infirmary was right next to the training room. I could hear a few punches coming from inside. I walked by casually to see who it was. Jungkook. He was training without me. Ever since we stopped talking, we never trained together again. I had asked him once and he came up with some lame excuse to push me away. He looked beyond furious when fighting. The kind of attitude that begged to be left alone unless you had a death wish. Lucky for me, I did have a death wish.

The raw strength behind the punches alone was awe-inspiring as if the whole thing had been choreographed and practiced to perfection. Like he was bottling up a lot of negative energy and releasing it while he was fighting. He reminded me of myself the first time we trained together. The night that Miyoung had died when I let out all my anger in training.

"You should slow down before you break your hand," I said, copying what he said to me back then. He stopped punching and looked up at me, standing at the entrance of the training room.

"What are you doing down here?"

"I was going to get more gauze. I bled through these ones" I answered, holding up my arms. He took his gloves off and took a seat on the bench, drinking water. I came over and sat next to him. He was defensive in body language and kept to himself. It was as if he were to face me, I would kill him or something.

"Do you hate me?" I asked, softly after a few seconds of silence.

"No, why would you think that?" He said, avoiding eye contact.

"Why wouldn't I think that? You can't even look at me"

"I don't hate you"

"Then what happened to us? I need my friend back"

"We're not friends. You're my hostage and nothing else"

"Why are you acting like this?"

"No! Why are you?! Stop treating this like it's some joke! We're not on the same team!" He yelled, abruptly standing up from the bench. When he finally faced me, there were no traces of tears, not in his eyes or the track marks of his reddening face. He didn't feel the separation between us as harshly as I felt it.

"We are on the same team!" I answered, standing up and facing him.

"No, we're not because you're going to get killed and we'll all go back to our normal lives again like you were never here!"

"You don't have the right to treat me like shit just because you're afraid!"

"I'm afraid of nothing!" He yelled, throwing his water bottle across the training mat.

"I can read you so easily! You're afraid to lose someone you care about. So god forbid you ever let anyone get too close. That's it, huh?"

"I lost people I care about because of YOUR family! So I learned the hard way to not care for anyone anymore" He shouted, waving his arms around angrily. He looked at me the same way he did when I was first kidnapped and tied up in the cage. His eyes were narrowed, rigid, cold, and hard. At this moment, I knew he was already far far away. He was no longer the same boy that I thought cared about me. Once again, I was the enemy, like I crossed an invisible line and offended his sensibilities. I should've expected this. He did the same thing to Rachel, I just thought our bond was immune. My mistake.