Rain || BTS x Child reader

101| The Concert (pt.3)

Thursday, April 23rd
— 8:27 p.m.

     Just when I thought my saviour was here to grant me peace and freedom from this pain, I had been struck with a hard smack to the face. A reality check, as you may call it.

     At the door stood a boy that wasn't my [Y/n]; she wasn't here to save me this time, no—she probably didn't even notice that I had disappeared. This boy looked slightly familiar to me—the black hair, the almost glaring eyes—but I couldn't quite place a finger on it. It didn't matter though—really, if I was going to die here, then why should I care in the first place?

     That's the only way I could put it.

     The familiar-looking boy came in, but not at all empty-handed; there he stood in the middle of the doorway, a short and blue-haired male being drug in on the dirty floor behind him, his eyes shut tightly as if he were in a lot of pain—but not by being pulled along the floor, no, Yoongi was hurt in some other way.

     "Y—Yoongi-hyung!" I shouted with worry laced in my tone, shock playing its role on my face as I stared at the young boy who dragged him inside the room, slamming the door behind him as if nothing bothered him at all. I felt angry now—I thought this was about me, but I guess not. I was so wrong about the whole situation, and that worried me greatly because Yoongi was here; a member of [Y/n]'s family was kidnapped—possibly hurt—and I couldn't do a single thing about it.

     I felt so weak, so helpless; I was useless.  Yoongi would die with me, wouldn't he?  And I'm not the type to say "at least I'm not alone," because that'd be wrong of me to think.  Yoongi would die—and if I lived to see the day, [Y/n] would never forgive me.

     At least, that's what I thought.

     The sound of Yoongi's pained moans had brought me out of my deepest thoughts; I whipped my head to the side, noticing how the young boy, who stood above Yoongi, had a look of anger dancing in his dark eyes.  What had happened?  Why is Yoongi here?  He shouldn't be here, not with me.

     I felt Jacob loosen his hold on me—only just by a little bit—as he turned to welcome the other boy.

     "Jaemin," Jacob sang, his smile never leaving. "How's it going?"

     The boy, Jaemin, didn't respond to Jacob's casual start of a conversation, too busy glaring hard daggers at Yoongi. But his eyes flitted to Jacob's a few seconds later, almost surprising me with the sudden movement; I gasped as he locked eyes with me for a moment, even if it was only a couple seconds, I could feel his hatred screaming at me full-on.

     Jaemin simply shrugged and pulled his gaze from my own, glancing around the room in disapproval. "Couldn't you have picked a better spot than this old place, Jacob? At any moment—maybe even now—the cracked ceiling could fall down on all our faces." He didn't seem the least bit pleased to be here, but he seemed happy enough to have Yoongi writhing under him.

     Jacob scoffed at Jaemin's comment.  "Oh, really?  So you're telling me—ugh!  I was only following what you requested of me!  You said 'bring him to someplace that no one will care to search.'  Your EXACT words!"  He scowled at Jaemin, somehow pressing the knife hard enough into my skin to draw a little amount of blood.

     "Well, I never really asked for a warehouse.  I simply wanted you to take him to a forest or something—you know, a place they won't search,"  Jaemin spat, flicking his hateful eyes down to Yoongi, but he still continued to complain.  "This is the most obvious of places!  How could you be so dumb?!"  He stomped his foot angrily on the ground, lightly, but that was strong enough of a hit to shake the whole building.