Later he would come to realize that he hadn't been breathing. That he had somehow managed to not take a single one from the moment he left the bar until he was locating the source of that feeling. That he had somehow taken the stairs two at a time, running with an energy he had never been aware of before. Until those crooked fingers were moving in practiced, quick ways, typing in the code that had long since been memorized, and it had never taken so long for that little flickering light to turn green.
It was like the movement of that door swinging open was somehow enough to force air back into his lungs, and like the scene that was playing out before him was somehow enough of a shock to force the action upon him.
He wasn't strong. Not nearly strong enough to actually pry Jungkook away. And he was entirely and completely aware of that devastating fact. Because he was completely certain that he was getting ready to witness a murder. That maybe he had already. That maybe that's what he had felt. Was the force of someone's life actually ending.
And the worst part.
The very worst part.
Was that his concern wasn't actually for Jimin.
No, of course not. He was entirely too fucked up for that.
His only thought was Jungkook.
"Stop!" It came out as a desperate cry, rushing forward all at once. As if his brain had momentarily forgotten how to operate any part of his body. Like his mouth had been rendered incapable of working, legs and arms stock still and rooted into place. Then all at once it all came back online and he was moving, speaking, rushing forward and wrapping both of his hands around the arm that was currently holding Jimin in place.
"This doesn't concern you, Seokjin." That voice should have been terrifying. So deep and dark and he hated it. Hated every single thing about it. Hated the way it made his heart skip a beat. Hated the way it made him break out into a cold sweat. Hated the way it made him want to just give in, made him want to submit.
"Jungkook." There was so little space left between them, and he tried to find some way to force himself into that place. "Listen to me. Nothing he says is going to change my mind. Nothing he says is going to make me stop loving you."
Because that emotion had taken hold within his heart so deeply that absolutely nothing was every going to be capable of changing it. Had interwoven into every single part of who and what he was that it was ingrained so deep that nothing could ever remove it.
"I love you, Jungkook." Those hands tightened, just a little, a gentle suggestion for those fingers to finally loosen, and he heard the sound Jimin made as his air way became unblocked. Like a dying person making that last, desperate attempt for a last, gasping breath.
"I love you so much, Seokjin." That hand that had been wrapped around Jimin's throat came around his instead, and he tried with all of his might not to flinch. To simply allow the action to occur.
But he couldn't. And he did. His entire being reacting to the touch almost violently.
"Please." It sounded so broken. Like that one little movement had somehow been capable of shattering everything. Like it had been the signal that had finally started them marching towards the actual end. "Please. Don't be afraid of me. I would never hurt you, Jinnie."
"Let me help Jimin." Because all he could see out of the corner of his eyes was this pathetic little bent figure, hands wrapped around the destroyed throat, coughing up flecks of blood onto his previously pristine hard wood floor. "Please. Let me take him to Tae."
"No. You won't come back." He shouldn't. Everything within told him that he shouldn't. All forms of common sense and intelligence said that this wasn't just a terrible idea.
It was a life ending one.
That this wasn't love.
It was obsession.
But he had made his choice. Had made it within that very first moment. Those first few precious seconds. The one and only time where he could have made a different one. Taken them down a different path.
Everything that came after had been by fates design, and his choice had been the catalyst.
And despite the way this wasn't the life he'd always dreamed of. The love that he had laid awake late into the night and imagined for himself. The beautiful kind of story that only happened in fairy tales and cheesy television dramas. It was still his choice.
He had chosen Jungkook.
And even if he could go back with the knowledge that he held within him right now, at this very moment.
He would still make the same one.
And maybe that made him just as damaged as crazy as Jungkook was.
But he accepted that too.
