Your Eyes Tell [18+] {Completed}

6-Blood

Jungkook was still tired, and it was about midnight when his eyes started to close by its own, his hands however strictly pressing a hot cloth onto Jimin's forehead as the latter slept. Jimin however didn't sleep peacefully. He would moan now and then, sometimes even scream when Jungkook patted him on the head, singing a lullaby, "Still With You~~~......Still with you~~~", with Jimin whimpering a little, as he dozed off. Jungkook didn't know when he had drifted off to dreamland, but it was just moments after he had consumed three to four sleeping pills.

His mind vivid with a blind boy hanging onto two nails, his hand-spun on the wall while his eyes said nothing. The blood dripping from the suture of his pants, and he moaned in pain as three of them gained pleasure, forcing their pants in.

Drowsy still by the effect of the overdose, in the morning when he woke up, there was no one on the bed that caught his hazy eyes. Three IV tubes of medical drip which he had managed to connect for Jimin, was lying haywire, and instead, the fruits and bread on the table were kept as it is. Jungkook slowly lifted his head which had fallen asleep on the bedside but moments later he felt a tug on his neck. He gasped as a rope was tied around his neck, and his hands held the coarse skin struggling his neck. The sores and bruises on his neck hurt and he moaned in pain.

But the moment he screamed with all the might he had, he saw who had tied the rope. For from the adjacent bedroom walked in Jimin, a knife in his hand and his body, fresh and washed, his body straight except for a small limp when he walked. His face was what surprised and yet disappointed Jungkook. There was pure fury.

Pain and affliction.

Hatred spitting onto Jungkook.

"Jimin~ah.....My neck...It pains-s-s-s..I-I--", Jungkook was trying to talk as he held the rope which shifted its positions from time to time, the pointy coir poking every inch of his nape, choking him of breath and freedom. His legs kicked in the air and his hands stuck on the coir, he was turning red from exhaustion.

Jimin said nothing.

Instead, he watched.

He watched more and more.

Ten minutes passed.

Tired and breathing hard, he had lost his breath and he lay on the floor with a neck, red and purple, legs no longer having the energy to fight, and a head that hurt from lying on one side throughout the night. After all, the back of his throat already hurt a lot from lying on his arms as Jimin was on the bed. But now, he felt even worse.

 He felt what he had done to deserve this. His mind numb with emotions of love which he lacked. Had his grandma be there, she would have given him milk, and cheese toasted bread every morning after a kiss and a hug, leaving him happy throughout the day.

But now, she was the wind. The air. The sky and the flowers outside. She would no longer talk but would come to meet in different kinds. She would cry when he cried and she would laugh when he laughed. Except he wouldn't realize it while she would. The worst thing about death.

The fan was whirring on top of him, while the wind from outside came rushing in through the open windows and drawn curtains. Some sounds of a pressure cooker from the neighboring house barely made such commotion, as they were a family from America who visited scarcely.

The sun dazzling its enlightenment through the windows and no one to be seen as he lay on the floor. He was hungry, starving to be precise and his legs hurt, every limb hurt, and his heart hurt. From the thoughts of his grandma, somewhere buried deep inside the mud, and the thought of the blind guy who had gone through such a big deep resentment of affliction anyone can undergo.

The bell rang.

Jungkook shifted his head slightly to the left but there wasn't that energy he wanted to lift himself to the door which was few feet apart. But hiss blurred vision showed two bare feet which walked there. His eyes moved up and there stood Jimin-he had opened and he was talking with someone. His face -stubborn, sour, and fierce. Horrified, Jungkook knew something was amiss. Some misunderstanding which needs resolving.

But a blackout followed.

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'When?"

It was that soft voice which he wanted to hear in bed. Someday, when he shared a bed with the most loved one of his life, he would appreciate it more, wouldn't he? A small house with him and he, two children, a dog, and a happy life. Like once when his grandma said, "What you should do is what makes your heart decide. When your heart races, do what it tells you. I can assure you, you will be happy then. Don't get your mind to meddle with your heart."It was yesterday, she told that but it felt like a year before.

He struggled to open his eyes, partially due to the light and because due to the pain. However, when his eyes accustomed to the small figure sitting a few meters away from him, he forced them open and there was he. He was in a white shirt and a loose white pants-both of Jungkook's. But he wore no hat, no glasses, and no accessories. Instead, he said curtly, "Eat" and in front of him was a soup, mackerel fry, pork belly, and handmade ramyeon with rice.

Jungkook was starving and he felt for his neck. There was no rope. But he noticed his legs when he was about to fold them, they were tied to the leg of the bed making sure he moved less. Jungkook's eyes closed in misery and he bit his lip to avoid the tears. To cover his depression, he began to gobble the food.

Jimin asked again,

"When did she die?"

Jungkook knew the reference was to Grandma. He gulped the food and said,"Yesterday night. It was a silent attack. "

"Okay."

That was it. Jungkook wanted him to ask more but he said nothing. After he emptied the plates, Jimin took them and began to get up to go to the kitchen., but Jungkook shot out his arm and caught him by the hand,

'Are you okay?"

He shot back an argument, cold and shrill as an avalanche.

"Does that even matter?"
Jungkook gulped. This misunderstanding felt like a big one, to be precise; the harshest he had ever had done with anyone.

"Then tell me, wh-y-y...tie me up-p?"

Jimin didn't look back or meet his gaze, again. Instead, he shoved away his hand with rage and made out those words, which bore a threat hole into his hear with no liability,

"I hate people who watch others suffer...I HATE THEM!!"

Jungkook choked a little, and his hand hit the floor, as he screamed,

'ITS A MISTAKE AND YOU CAN FORGIVE! I DIDN'T WATCH YOU GETTING RAPED AND BY THE TIME, I REACHED YOU WERE ALREADY..."

But Jimin whipped around like a tiger, his eyebrows curled and his mouth leaving out-breaths in every fraction of second,

'YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE! WHO WATCHED THEIR FRIEND GETTING RAPED HUH? WHO THE HELL DOES THAT? YOU SHOULD HAVE KICKED THEM AND COMPLAINED, AND GOT ME OUT OF THIS MESS! I LOST MY VIRGINITY BECAUSE OF YOU, A LOSER COWARD LIKE YOU!"

It was too fast. The pain exhilarating every brain cell of Jungkook as he bit his lip, trying not to be a coward by crying in front of his mistake. He knew it was wrong but he was too late. Too late and it had ruined him of every emotion he had saved for Jimin.

He wanted to say something,

But instead, a big fire engulfed his stomach, bringing discomfort and distress. The gurgling of the stomach followed and a big stone kept choking his chest.

And he puked!

His hazy eyes, failing to open, caught a tinge of the muck covering him now.

He gurgled.

With shock and disbelief. 

It was blood.