ᴄʀʏ ғᴏʀ ᴍᴇ | ᴋ.ᴛʜ + ᴘ.ᴊᴍ

twenty-seven.

ⓥⓜ - suicide, death, murder - 

"Full house, I win." A chuckle arose from the group of men crowded around their king, the smell of smoke and alcohol everywhere. It wafted up to the second floor, slipping under the door and straight to the small boy's head. His nose twitched at the familiar, toxic scent. 

"I-I placed the wrong c-card! Please let me go again! I-I'll pay mo-" A loud echo silenced the room, blood rushing from the poor man's head as V leaned in his chair, his pale, slender hands holding his cards, blood dripping from the ace of spades. 

"And that, gentlemen and rapists, is how you deal with a pathetic man in dept." V chuckled, tossing his back and chucking his hand of cards onto the coffee table. His hair flopped back, grease streaks running throughout it. His eyes rolled back, reaching the clock on the back wall. 

2:43am

The sound of small steps was heard, the room of smoke going quite as Jimin peaked his head into the room, his eyes darting to a shirtless V. "You guys are loud."

"Too bad twink!" A deep voice cried, a couple laughs being shared around the room. Taehyung rolled his eyes, slowly getting up and glaring at the rotting man who called his beloved a twink. 

"Don't speak to him like that." He turned around, placing his cigarette in the tray before walking to the stairs, obvious blood stains were printed there from year and years before. 

"T-Taehyung, can you tell them to be quite...?" The man looked into his eyes, bright colors swirling together in a sea of blue. He broke his gaze away and sighed, rolling his eyes and gently taking Jimin's hand in his. 

"Sorry baby, I can't," he smiled, his evil eyes making sure it wasn't a sweet one. "Go up stairs, I'll be up shortly." Jimin nodded, turning on his heel and trotting up the stairs. 

The small boy quickly closed the door, locking it and running to the bed. Getting on his knees he pulled out a black luggage bag he had found in the closet. Running to the dresser, he pulled out his favorite cloths, making sure not to pack much as he shoved it in the bag. 

He brushed the cloud of hair out of his eyes, panting hard and eyeing the door. His gaze flicked to the bedside table, in a quick motion he was kneeling beside it, digging through it. His breath hitched out of luck when he felt the familiar cold barrel under his fingers. His shaky hands shoved the gun under the mattress, right under where he slept. 

Jimin scurried to shove the packed bag under the bed, folding a blanket over it and flopping onto the bed the second the door opened. 

Taehyung stared at him, eyebrow raised in question. "Why are you out of breath?" Jimin's cheeks turned pink, a blush of fear and embarresment tinting his skin.

"Mini workout." Taehyung scoffed, shuffling out of his grey zip up hoodie, the smell of weed and meth coming off with it. He tossed it on the floor, pulling off his white wife-beater tank as he did so. 

"Taehyung, I want to leave." There was no fear, no stuttering, nothing to show weakness. It was different. 

"Jimin, we've talked about this. You're min-"

"No. I'm not. Maybe then, but you don't love me so whats the point?" There was silence, Taehyung finally looking up to meet those bright eyes. He raised an eyebrow at the lack of cowardness. "I don't love you, I was addicted to you. I can promise you, I'm not anymore."

Jimin stared up at him, shaking on the inside, doing his best to show the man infront of him, he wasn't weak. 

"I can't. You know too much." Taehyung spoke, rolling his neck to the side, a snap being heard as he sighed. 

"Bullshit. Kill me then, I'll do it myself if you don't have the balls." Taehyung's cocky smirk faded, a frown taking over his face. 

"You wouldn't. Why would you even wanna d-"

"Why would I wanna die!?" Jimin's eyes started to leak, tears building up while his face remained stone cold and strong. "Look what you did to me...you molested me, raped me, hurt me, killed my family, killed my friends, and you already killed everything inside me, let me get rid of the rest of me." 

Silence took over the room, Taehyung's eyes following the tear that ran down the boys face. 

"You're disgusting. You are those vile, fucking cockroaches that lurk and make people gag. Those homewreakers that just walk into your life, only to ruin it. Your a disgrace to this world. I would die to be away from you." Taehyung couldn't say anything, only listen to the boy speak. 

"There's no one else to hurt! You can't threaten me anymore! Ha...ha you've got nothing on me." Jimin bit the inside of his cheek, realzing the vile truth of what he's been saying. 

"Y-you really want me gone that much?" 

"Yes." Taehyung bit his lip, forcing a smile and a laugh.

"I can't live without my angel,  I can't live without you Ji-"

"Then go fucking kill yourself!" Jimin screamed, his face red with anger. His body shook, hatred filling his head and stomach, the nausous feeling rising in his chest. He stood up, shoving hishand under the matress and pulling out the gun he stashed. 

"Put that down." Jimin just laughed, more tears falling from his eyes. 

"No, you don't get to tell me what to do anymore." Jimin's hand rose, shaky as his fingers went to the trigger, the barrel pointing right at Taehyung's throat. His lip was drawn between his teeth, eyes red from years of pain and tears. "I'm done."

The echoing ring was clear in the young boys head, the whistle of the bullet ending sharply as it peirced through the man's throat. Jimin's breath was steady, his arm still rigid. Blood trickled down his throat, the sound of gags making the taller man stumble. 

"J-Jimi....n..." He fell onto the floor, choking on his own blood and tears as he grasped is throat. His hands stained red, chest covered in a light pinkish liquid. 

For the first time in years, Jimin felt the content. Nothing could touch him; he had killed his worst fear and finally he was able to smile again. 

Tears still fell from his eyes, a small smile appearing next to hs rosy cheeks. His arm fell down to his side, breath starting to quicken. His bright eyes stared down at the most feared killer in all of Korea, red flickering in them. His knees crumbled before him, collasping on the ground. 

Jimin gasped as his hand landed in the puddle of blood, shakily lifting it up and staring at it. He had nothing to live, no one to live for. With his record and trauam he wouldn't go anywhere. 

With one last effort, the small boy lifted up the gun, closing his eyes and placing the tip to his heart. With a deep and shaky breath, he pulled the trigger. 

ⓥⓜ

the end