CHAPTER EIGHT - FUCKING SHIT DICK

11.6K 846 478
                                    

↻ ꜰᴜᴄᴋɪɴɢ ꜱʜɪᴛ ᴅɪᴄᴋ ↺Trigger warning: Brief depiction of self harm

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

ꜰᴜᴄᴋɪɴɢ ꜱʜɪᴛ ᴅɪᴄᴋ ↺
Trigger warning: Brief depiction of self harm.

The next morning - as in four am - Jimin stirs against the smooth leather couch, still wrapped tightly in Starling's suit jacket. He rubs at his eyes with his small fists, freeing himself from his bleary vision and then takes a look at the desk, finding the taller man hunched over it, resting his head in his arms as he snores quietly.

The reason Jimin is woken from his sleep is because of the faint sound of pained whimpers he hears emerging from one of the heat registers located on the lower half of a wall. He stands up and because of how frigid the air remains, he slips the jacket over his arms and drowns in it rather than keeping it draped over his shoulders. His bare feed pad toward the direction of the sound and his heart breaks, because the small cries closely resemble Taehyung.

He has to do something.

And so he cautiously makes his way over to the office door, thankful that a fingerprint is only required to get in. He pushes one of them open, quietly, keeping his eyes trained on the departed figure of Jeongguk still sleeping against his oak desk. As soon as he steps out, he closes it and hears it lock shut.

The trek through the building is dark, however manageable. He tiptoes to the dining room and his fingers curl around the doorhandle leading to the basement, pulling it open. Almost immediately, an impatient chill nips at the uncovered parts of his body and he feels a shiver roll down his spine, the hairs on his arms and the nape of his neck standing. The walk down the stairs is difficult and the closer he gets, the louder Taehyung's cries become.

Soon he reaches the bottom of the stairs and his toes sprawl along the cold cement with each step. A small margin of light spills into the prison room and Jimin's heart shatters into pieces as soon as he sees Taehyung's state.

The man continues to drag a sharp edged rock along both of his wrists, switching sides with each cut. Crimson pours from his pale skin and he screams loudy.

"It was real! It wasn't a dream!" Taehyung whales and Jimin's past the point of panic. He rushes to the prison door, not caring that he's cut his foot and curls his fingers around the metal bars.

"Taehyung, stop hurting yourself! Look at me, please!" Jimin begs with tear filled eyes and the taller man simply ignores him, proceeding with his deep incisions.

"He said it was a dream! He said it wasn't real!" Taehyung yells once again, and doesn't stop as his hoarse voice plays off like some broken record.

Jimin's at a loss for words and his mind draws blank. The words coming out of Taehyung's mouth make absolutely no sense to him, however he knows that something needs to be done. And so the only thing he can think of doing, despite it still being a secret that he truly knows who Agust is, is to run back upstairs and wake Yoongi from his slumber. He knows that it's dangerous and he should probably be locked up himself, but he believes he has no choice.

STARLING | JIKOOK ✔Where stories live. Discover now