Namjoon looked over at his window outside of his room, snow was covering everything and every where. He groaned as he got out from his warmth and comfort, he walked down to his basement to see if his baby was doing fine.
He turned on the lights, Namjoon could see the other's hair peeking out from the bed that Namjoon provided for the younger boy. Namjoon ignored the dried blood and chopped off heads on the floor and walls that he, himself, decorated.
Namjoon sat on the bed, stroking the young male's hair, Namjoon held the weak body. "You're finally mine," Namjoon whispered. "All mine."
Namjoon wasn't taken surprised when the younger boy didn't breath, like he did a couple months ago. Namjoon already knew that, in fact, Jimin was already dead.
