Stolen (Kim Namjoon/RM X Reader)

Safe: Part 1

Beep. Beep. Beep.

The sound of the alarm, signalling that it was time to get up, was loud and incessant in my ear, the noise bouncing around in my skull, urging me to wake up or be driven insane.

I groaned. My limbs felt incredibly heavy with sleep and I wasn't sure if I could move them. My head was foggy, a faint headache nagging at the back of my mind, and each eyelid felt as if it was weighed down by a one ton brick, making it impossible for me to open my eyes.

I didn't want to wake up.

But the alarm was still beeping, never ending, a constant pitch, in the background.

"Just five more minutes." I grumbled out.

At least, that's what I meant to grumble out, that was the sentence that formed in my brain. But instead, what came out was an unintelligible grunt, a mumbled string of words that didn't quite make sense.

"(F/N)? Jagi?" I heard a voice in the distance, as if underwater, call my name. The voice gnawed at me. I knew that voice. But how?

Determined to wake now, I needed to see who was calling to me, and I needed to stop that damn alarm clock, I struggled against myself, trying to tread through the dregs of sleep that were holding me down, sticking against my limbs and mind like pools of molasses, holding me in place.

Finally, finally, I managed to crack open my eyes, creating tiny slits of light in my vision, wincing as the bright rays hit and penetrated the darkness that had been covering my mind, and slowly but surely, a face came into view, hovering, creased with concern, above mine.

Joon.

My brain whispered, silently, inside of my head at the sight of him, and I instantly felt more relaxed knowing he was here with me. Everything was okay. He was here. He wouldn't let the darkness suck me back under again.

Allowing my eyes to open a bit more, I tried to bring his face into focus, my vision still blurry from the deep holds of sleep, and I watched as a relieved smile washed across his face, before he said softly, "Hey. There's my girl. How're you feeling?"

I swallowed, just now realizing how dry and course my mouth and throat felt, and then whispered out hoarsely, my vocal cords feeling rusty from lack of use and my voice not my own, "Like I've been hit by a bus."
Reaching over behind him to a small bedside table, Joon grabbed a cup of water and brought it to my lips. I greedily sucked the cold water down through the straw, the liquid an instant relief against my hot throat, and I could have drank forever, but Joon, with a reluctant look on his face, pulled the cup back from me after a few seconds.

At my groan of disappointment, he offered me an apologetic look, as he replaced the cup back on the table, and then said, as way of explanation, "You're severely dehydrated, jagi. The doctors want you to take it easy with water for a few days, your body needs time to adjust to the liquid again."

He placed his large hands carefully over one of mine, his palms warm and familiar against my cool skin, and I glanced down, noticing for the first time that there was an IV imbedded in the back of my hand. The IV stand, hung with two bags of clear liquid, was steadily dripping the contents of the bags down the tubing and through the needle into my veins, cold as it first entered my body, making me shiver slightly. I directed my gaze back to Joon, and gathering my strength, I said, softly, hoarsely, "You figured it out." I felt relief course through my veins, as if it were dripping down through the IV.

He quirked an eyebrow at me, not sure what I was referring to, and then understanding suddenly flashed across his face, as he squeezed my fingers between his own. "Yeah. But only because you were smart enough to think of it." He offered me a half grin, the smile not reaching his eyes, as he continued, "You were right, too. That warehouse district was exactly where we filmed 'Reflection.' The storage unit was actually right beside the warehouse where we found you."