"I just couldn't resist."
"Only sacred things deserve to be messed with."
It all ended with a dead kid near the train tracks.
Six years later, the story repeats itself and two long-forgotten friends might find out that when death tries to play match...
- Dust in the wind, all they are is dust in the wind -
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Taehyung's POV
It's freezing outside yet the windows are cracked open, snowflakes twirling in with the crisp breeze, causing goosebumps on clammy skin as well as a thick layer of steam to cover the warm pool water. The strong smell of chlorine and disinfectant invades my nostrils, eyes stinging with chemicals, yet I keep them wide open and fixed on the grey cement ceiling.
On swim meet days this place crawls with people, the atmosphere is electric, and the screeches of the crowd resonate against the ceramic floor to be amplified into a dull roar. Parents, students, and coaches alike bump into each other, athletes lose their goggles, boys invite girls to the after-party with a wink and a hand on the small of their backs.
During the night, everything is the same, yet it isn't. With the lights off and nobody around, every familiar little detail of the place has a gloomy quality, changing the rows of small red and white flags into an uncanny sign, the water itself becoming a terrifying abyss. Of course, Jungkook has an indoor pool at his house, and we could always hang out there but breaking into school property at 2 in the morning to go for a swim in this eerie decor is so much more fun.
I turn to said boy, who is currently floating on an inflatable donut pool ring, meeting his profile thoughtfully staring at the ceiling like the others. His naked chest is glistening with water droplets, his raven hair sleeked back and wide dark eyes incandescent. From all of us he has the most athletic body; long, lean, muscled limbs which effortlessly slash the water around him as he swims, so much power propelling him forward. During competitions, he actually looks like a dolphin, taking so much time in between breaths I sometimes wonder if he has gills.
"Guys, can we get out soon? I'm freezing."
Jimin is a little further, lips steadily turning blue. He looks like a wet puppy as he wades across the deeper part of the pool to join us in the middle, sending ripples all over the perfectly still surface.
"If you still feel the cold, you're not drunk enough," grumbles Yoongi, "Go get yourself another beer."
"I'll drown if I drink another one. Or throw up. Or both."
"Don't worry, I'll save you," whispers Jungkook, referring to his lifeguard certification.
Here, the slightest murmur sounds like a shout.
The night is good, the alcohol pumping in our veins making everything appear nostalgic and alluring, like anything could happen. The quietude lengthens, fog twirling in front of our eyes with a gust of wind. At first, we decided to meet here to plan our revenge on Namjoon and Jin, but the booze and ambience caught up, slowly driving us silent.
"I have a confession to make," suddenly says Jungkook, grabbing our attention.
He takes a deep breath, opens his mouth, hesitates.
