(I guess this kinda counts as angst? Maybe? Don't kill me?)
"Come on, hyung, it'll be fun!"
Fun. Fun, he says. This is not my definition of fun.
My definition of fun is sitting in front of a television flicking through endless series on Netflix or judging people on tumblr for being too edgy. It's not sneaking into creepy abandoned houses with my boyfriend and potentially getting stabbed up the ass with a poker from a fireplace. By a ghost.
I'm not fond of horror movies. So why would I want to reenact every horror movie ever in real life? What would be the point?
"Look, Jungkook, I just don't get a good feeling from this place. Can't we just go bowling?" I say, desperately trying to persuade him to leave. He raises an eyebrow at me.
"But I always beat you and you get annoyed," he points out, slightly amused. "And you've used that excuse for the last year. Come on, I just want to have a look."
I close my eyes, leaning against the rusty iron fence, my nose wrinkling at the strong smell of iron leaking off of the bars. "Kook, what if we get kidnapped by a ghost?"
He chuckles slightly, wrapping a strong arm around my waist, pulling me closer. "I will just protect you. You're everything to me. Why wouldn't I make sure you're fine?" he responds calmly. I sigh, irritated by his easy reply.
"What about you?"
"Babe, I'm black belt in like five different arts, and I spend my life at the gym. I think I can defend myself."
"Against a ghost, which has no physical body and is potentially invisible?" He smiles.
"Tae, I don't believe in ghosts. We'll be fine. I promise. It's just a bit of an adventure."
I open my eyes, fixing him with an extremely serious glare. "Do not let go of my hand, Jeon Jungkook, or you're not getting any action from me for the next year. And I will tell Yoongi hyung something mean about you. Am I understood?" I say firmly. He smiles, recognising that he's won, even as his face goes pale at the threat.
"I wouldn't dream of letting go," he says seriously. I blush lightly, leaning into the warmth of his body for a moment.
Then he pulls away to inspect the fence. "Right, any ideas as to how we're gonna get over this piece of shit?"
"Maybe we could just nope out of here?" I suggest lamely. He rolls his eyes.
"You've already agreed to come, Tae. A useful suggestion would be more helpful," he points out. I shrug.
"I have a bad feeling about this place. It's not safe."
He grins suddenly, having spotted something in the corner of his vision, and then I'm forced to follow him at high speed when he rushes over to a section of the fence, which is damaged enough that a person could fit through. I sigh, realising that there's no way to persuade him to find something else to do. Not now he's seen that. He would never agree to anything else.
Jungkook beckons me over, taking my hand and practically dragging me through the gap, his eagerness surprising me slightly. I knew he was keen to do some exploring today, but this is not the same. This isn't keen. This is overly excited.
He's done nothing that's interesting for a long time, though, which could be why. Even so, I can't relate to his enthusiasm. I'm still terrified of what could happen if someone still lives here, or if ghosts appear.
We struggle through the overgrown garden, strands of grass slapping me in the face every so often, flower heads brushing past my legs in an unpleasant way. I curse a few times, ducking under the brambles and getting scratched by the rose thorns below. It's a complete mess, this garden, and it just adds to my unease.
It's not cared for, it's not safe, and it's not pretty. I don't like it. Who would walk through something like this without getting scared?
I'll tell you. Jeon Jungkook.
"This is awesome!" he comments excitedly, as we arrive (after much effort) at the door, which is half rotten and falling apart. I raise an unimpressed eyebrow at him, and he pouts. "Come on, babe, you've gotta admit that this is kinda cool."
"Kinda dangerous, but sure, whatever you say," I mumble to myself, rolling my eyes.
Jungkook just chuckles lightly, turning once again to the door to try and figure out how to get in. After a few seconds, he shrugs, turning so that his shoulder is facing the door. I jump when the piece of rotting wood smashes into pieces, as my overly strong boyfriend shoves his shoulder into it. "There we go," he mutters to himself, satisfied. "Come on, hyung, let's explore!"
We walk into the abandoned house, still holding hands. "I'm not sure about this, Kook, what if-"
I cut myself off, shrieking when the remnants of the (rather large) door slam shut, still connected to the hinges. The whole place seems to grow darker. "What the actual fuck?" I screech, my grip tightening on Jungkook's hand.
"Okay, okay, everything is fine, it's just a bit of wind," he says, smiling nervously at me. I roll my eyes.
"I call bullshit. There was no air moving before now."
"A random gust, maybe?" he offers shakily, his body moving closer to mine instinctively. "We're gonna be fine, Tae. I got you."
I sigh, the exaggerated sound causing him to chuckle slightly. "Babe, ghosts aren't bothered by physical violence, they just turn you inside out with weird ectoplasm. Don't you pay any attention to ghost TV shows?"
He raises an eyebrow at me. "I'm not entirely sure that's exactly how it works, but whatever you say."
"I do say," I insist stubbornly, smiling a little when he presses his lips against my cheek in an attempt to mollify me.
"Then I will believe you," he says gently, tugging me forward so that we can carry on exploring, despite the fact that it's got noticeably colder now that the door has closed.
"Good, it's the most sensible thing to do," I return, sticking my tongue out at him. He just smirks lightly, his eyes flickering down to my lips for a moment.
I catch the gaze, blushing at the heat it holds. "Stay focused!" I tell him, my cheeks burning, and he smiles fondly, kissing me on the forehead.
"I'm trying, it's just difficult when you're acting like this. I will have self control," he promises, eyes glinting with amusement.
"Good," I huff, glancing around once more in the dark and trying to figure out if we're safe.
The room itself is unpleasantly messy, clearly owned by a hoarder or something when the house wasn't abandoned. Fancy candlesticks sit, extinguished, on the mantle piece above a fireplace, one that's dusty from lack of use.
The 'entrance hall' of this house is massive, and there are crooked stairs in the corner, presumably leading to a first and maybe even second floor, twisted and warped by age. There are fire stains on the wooden floor, hinting at past tragedies, and the windows are webbed with cracks. Around the room, massive cobwebs hang like decorations from the damaged ceiling, and a chandelier swings on its fittings, squeaking every so often.
For a moment, everything seems fine, and Jungkook turns to me with a triumphant smile, telling me proudly that he was right to be calm. That everything will be fine.
Then it's really not.
Everything goes black, and Jungkook's grip on my hand tightens. We edge together, until we're back to back, arms interlocked in an attempt to protect ourselves, as a draft rushes through the room like a gust. The movement of the air is deafening to my ears, and part of me is desperate to lift my hands away from his to press them against my head in an attempt to save my hearing.
But I don't. I know exactly what would happen if we pulled away. We'd be blown apart. We are stronger together.
That's how we've always seen it.
When the wind finally dies down, the light reappears for a moment to show how ruined the room has become. Furniture that was barely visible, even in the faint light of the room, is now clearly broken and torn apart, cragged outlines showing where the splits in the materials have been.
"Shit," Jungkook mumbles to himself, glancing over at me. "Okay, I admit it. It's not safe here. Now, can we leave?"
I nod in hasty agreement, tugging him toward the door without another word, blanching at the sound of a creak from upstairs. "Someone's here," I mumble, my eyes widening further out of fear. "Kook, move faster, please! I don't feel safe."
My frozen boyfriend nods, taking a deep breath and hurrying us toward the exit swiftly, keeping our hands connected. "I think-"
He's not given a chance to finish his sentence.
I'm shoved out of the front door by his desperate free hand as something creaks again, much louder, and our hands break apart.
I turn on an instinct, watching with horror as the ceiling crashes down onto Jungkook's head, practically squashing him flat. All I hear is a yelp, and a shout for me to get out of the grounds as quickly as possible.
I can't move, stuck to the spot out of sheer shock. Just like that, my boyfriend was crushed. By something. I don't know what.
How could anything have dropped so quickly? It makes no sense.
There's another crash from inside, and I squeak, running through the garden at top speed, desperate to escape from the area as fast as possible.
I'm not safe here. Jungkook is hurt, perhaps fatally, and I know there's nothing I can do to try and get him out of that mess.
All I can do is save myself, because I know that he sacrificed himself for my security. He promised that he would make sure I was okay, and he kept that promise.
I just wish I'd forced him to promise me to look after himself as well.