sтαℓкεя - т.к.

8: [A]

**Jungkook POV**

My eyes opened, looking down at my legs in the dark of the room. I yawned, blinking my eyes multiple times to set to my vision. I brought my head up, pulling on my arms that were stuck behind my back. What the hell? Why can't I- oh right... I cracked my fingers and shifted my gaze to the bed.

The man from yesterday was laying under the blankets, head covered. I looked around the room looking for a knife or scissors I could use to cut the rope. My eyes landed on a pocket knife, already opened.

I scooted the chair across the carpet, reaching the table with the knife. I leaned forward in my chair, attempting to grab it with my mouth.

A hand then swept across in front of me, picking up the knife. My body turned cold, stiffening in my chair. My face was grabbed and twisted to the side to face the man. I was too scared to fight back. I looked at him right in the eyes with pure shock and terror.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing Kook?" He said in a cold tone, sending goosebumps down my arms.

"T-trying t-to unt-"

"You're not fucking getting out!" The man was getting angry, it was obvious this guy was bipolar. I swallowed as he yelled, sharp eyes piercing into my soft ones.

He slammed his hand on the table causing me to jump. He grabbed the chair and pulled me back to the opposite side of the room, enough where there was nothing I could use to untie myself or move to get something sharp. I held my head down, staring at my jeans again.

"Why can't I even walk around this damn place?" I said to myself, hoping he didn't hear, but he did.

"Because you're going-"

"I'm not fucking escaping, alright!" I snapped. "There's no where I could fucking go!" I gave him the most scariest look ever, my lip and eye beginning to twitch.

Silence fell through the room, awkward tension starting to build. I looked away, eyes falling back on my legs. I felt my hands being touched, and something being cut. My hands parted, cool air hitting my wrists.

I brought my hands to my lap, rubbing my wrists from the pain they have been in for the past 24 hours.

"Thanks..." I mumbled, not turning to look at him. I heard him leave the room, the door shut silently after. I quickly began to untie my ankles, releasing them from the pain they've been in as well.

I twisted them in circles, popping them in the process. I stood up, falling right back down in the chair not having any balance. I sighed in frustration, trying again, holding onto everything near me. I stumbled to the bed, laying myself down on it. I small groan escaped my lips, staring at the ceiling once again. Wait... Where did that guy go? I looked at the door waiting for this guy to come back in.

***

About what felt like 3 hours later, the door opened. Revealing the tall man in a black hoodie. He shut the door behind him. "I thought you would've left by now." His deep voice echoing through the room.

"Look, dude, I already told you, I'm not leaving or you're going to kill me and possibly my friends."

"I didn't know you had friends." There was sarcasm in his voice.

I let out a 'kchh' using my tongue and the back of my throat. "Whatever,"

"I don't care much about your friends, just you." He walked closer to me. "And why are you on my bed?" He crossed his arms.

"Because I can't stand that chair!" I pointed to it like it was a person bothering me.

"You don't stand in chairs, you sit in them." He moved the chair to his desk.

I pinched the bridge of my nose and closed my eyes. "Wow you really are stupid."

"At least I'm not weak, like you." He sat on the edge of the bed.

"YA! IM NOT WEAK I JUST HAVEN'T GONE TO THE GYM IN A WHILE!" I sat up and stared at him.

"Yeah yeah, sure, whatever Kook." He brushed his hair back with his fingers, mouth open slightly, then looking at me.

Wait a second... Something feels off... I looked down and lifted my jacket up a little bit. My pants were undone. I never fixed them since the usage of the bucket last night. I quickly buttoned and zipped them, cheeks flushing red. I laid back down, turning my face away from him.

"What's wrong?" He pat my calf. "Do you feel sick?"

I stayed quiet for 10 seconds, then responded. "I'm not sick, just embarrassed."

"Why? Hm?" He laid down next to me, petting my hair.

"Reasons..." There was a good amount of space between us, but for some reason, I wanted to be closer. Yes I know, this is weird for me wanting to get closer to a stalker kidnapper guy who's name I don't even know. But I stayed put, I didn't move.

"If you don't want to talk about it, you don't have to." He then wrapped his arms around me like we knew each other for a while. Well, he knew me, I have no idea about him.

I hummed in response, letting him cuddle me. Why do I feel like this?  Why do I want these things to happen when it's not right? And since when did I have feelings for guys?