Hello all! Next chapter is here. As you know, I've been a little mean to Yoongi, but I'll try to not for just a bit, lol. But, warning, this chapter does get a bit dark.
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Disclaimer: The events are purely fictional. While BTS is real, I don't know them personally so this is just for fun. the original picture does not belong to me, but the editing does.
Warning: May contain mild language, violence, and blood. Some talk of mature content. Some talk of death and mention of suicide.
Beginning: Chapter 1
Previous: Chapter 8
Next: Chapter 10
When I was sure I wasn’t going to puke, I stood up and stared at my pathetic self in the mirror. It was a good thing I didn’t really wear makeup or it would’ve been smeared by now. I washed my face and made sure that any traces of the tears were gone. Then I took a deep breath and left the bathroom. Right then, Namjoon was coming down the hall.
“There you are. I was worried. Are you feeling alright?” With no one else able to see us, he ran his hand down the side of my face. I wanted to nuzzle into it, but I turned away. How can I let him touch me so lovingly after what happened?
“Yeah, I’m okay.”
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
I started walking past him. “I’m fine.”
“Wait.” Namjoon grabbed my hand. “Did something happen?” My heart dropped.
“Why would you think that?”
“Yoongi-hyung just left, said he wasn’t feeling well. Did something happen?”
“Did he do something to you?!” Namjoon demanded, his eyes flaring red.
I quickly set my hands on the junction between his neck and jaw. My thumbs rubbed back and forth along that part of his jaw and he immediately calmed down. Being like this felt so natural. But the guilt reminded me of its presence.
“He didn’t do anything to me. I’ll—“ I paused. I have to tell him. I have to. At least part of it, the more important part. But I have to make sure he won’t go after Yoongi. At least in the morning he’ll be sober. “I’ll tell you what happened tomorrow when both of us haven’t been drinking and we don’t have people expecting our return. Okay?”
Namjoon nodded reluctantly. “Alright, let’s go back.”
The games continued for another couple hours. After Yoongi had left, Namjoon was free to hold onto me as much as he wanted. I still felt guilty and I think Namjoon sensed that something was wrong. He sat me crosswise on his lap and held me firmly, though not tightly; my ribs were still healing. I let myself melt in his arms, laying against his strong shoulders. He was my rock right now.
When the guys one-by-one decided to turn in, Namjoon started to clean up and I helped. The longer it’d been from the incident, the more it started to feel like a bad dream. The alcohol had definitely helped with that. The apartment was empty except the two of us. Namjoon was at the sink dumping out the leftover beer from the open cans when I came up behind him and wrapped my arms around him. He set the drinks down and held my hands.
“Did you have fun?” Namjoon asked me. Overall, the answer was yes, so I nodded, my head moving up and down against his back.
“Thanks for inviting me to your group night. I’m glad I had the opportunity to get to know your friends a little better.” Even if I accidently got too close to one…
“They definitely seemed to like you. Even Jungkook was playing matches with you at the end.”
“They’re sweet.” I smiled. Jungkook and Taehyung were real sweethearts, even if past experiences had made them wary of showing it.
“Most of the time. You haven’t seen them be little shits.”
I chuckled. “I’d like to see that someday.”
“I’d like that too. I want you to stay with me for a long, long time…”
Namjoon turned around in my arms. “C’mon, feisty, let’s call you a cab before it gets too late.”
I shook my head. “I don’t want to.” I was drunk, but not stupid drunk. I knew what I was doing.
“Well, I can’t drive you.”
“Then what do you—oh…”
The tone of his voice… “Ah, never mind then.” I pulled away, disappointed. Maybe I was assuming too much.
“Wait,” he grabbed my arms, “that came out wrong. That wasn’t the tone I meant to use. You just… surprised me.”
“I know that we can’t really… do anything. But… I thought maybe… just sleeping… and cuddling.” I got quiet at the last part, realizing that it probably sounded juvenile. We were in our 30s not early 20s. People our age probably didn’t even do that anymore. “But that’s kinda stupid.”
“No, it’s not,” Namjoon said quickly. “If you want to stay… I’d like you to stay as well. I’ll give you a change of clothes to sleep in and I know I have a spare toothbrush laying around.” He was being sincere.
I smiled and kissed him. “I love you.”
“I love you too, feisty.”
“Is that my official pet name? You’ve been using it on and off.”
“Yeah, I guess so. It’s the first thing I think of when you come to mind.”
I cocked an eyebrow. “Is that so?”
“That’s so. Don’t like it?”
“No, I do. I like that it’s a name only for me.” And it was new, one that wouldn’t bring up the past.
“Then let’s get you to bed, feisty.” He crouched down, wrapped his arms around my thighs tightly, just under my butt, and lifted me up. I squealed in delight and grabbed Namjoon’s head to steady myself. “I can’t pick you up the usual way so this’ll just have to do. Though, I’m beginning to think this wasn’t the best idea.”
Before I could ask what he meant, he moved his hands down in such a way that it forced my legs to part around him and settle around his waist. Without hesitation, I wrapped my legs around him in a more stable position.
“I can see the dilemma,” I said, a suggestive lilt in my voice. The thoughts going through my head…
“God, I wish I could slam you against the closest wall right now,” he growled.
“Do it if you must, but it’ll take that much longer for me to heal.”
Namjoon let out an exasperated groan. “Why do you always have to be right?”
“Two reasons: I’m smart and I’m a woman.”
Namjoon chuckled. “I suppose those are both true. Let’s go before I decide the risk is worth it.”
He carried me to his room and sat me gently on the bed. It took everything I had to let him go. He pulled out a shirt and drawstring sweats since that was the only thing small enough to fit me comfortably. He gave me a new toothbrush (he told me the guys liked to crash at each other’s places and always forgot toothbrushes) and I got ready in the bathroom while he got ready in the bedroom. When I came out wearing his clothes, he quickly shut his eyes and took deep breaths to calm himself. It took all of my self-control to not walk over to him, push him back, and climb on top of him.
“Bathroom’s yours,” I told him and he quickly rushed inside. I smiled at his actions. The door closed and some of the guilt came back. But I’d had more time to think about it. Everything that had happened between Yoongi and me, those thoughts, that image, his actions, were the result of the bond we had no control over. It wasn’t our fault. I still felt guilty, but it wasn’t our fault. I crawled into bed. The smell of his sheets, of Namjoon himself, comforted and embraced me. When he came out, I had the covers pulled up and my eyes followed him. It was the first time in three years to have someone to lie in bed with. I smiled tiredly. “Coming to bed?”
His smile lit up my heart. He turned off the main light and slipped into bed behind me. He moved like he was going to hold me, but stopped. He was probably worried about my ribs. He kissed my exposed skin with feather-like kisses and then settled directly behind me.
With a small wince of pain, I turned myself over to face him. “Even if you can’t hold me, I want to hold you.” I directed him to lay on his back and rested my head on his chest, arm draped across his torso, one leg intertwined with his. “I love the sound of your heartbeat,” I said, my voice now very heavy with tiredness. His heartbeat lulled me towards sleep.
“I love the sound of your voice telling me that.”
“I love you, oppa.” My voice was barely above a whisper and I wasn’t sure if he had even heard me.
“I love you too, feisty.” He had. His heartbeat marked my steps to a peaceful sleep. What I wouldn’t give to be able to be here like this every night…
The next morning, I woke up at the feel of something settling on my bare arms. My mind was fuzzy with sleep as I slowly woke up. I felt the bed shift lightly behind me and smiled.
“Mm?” He began placing small kisses along my exposed neck. His hand went to my waist and slipped under my shirt. It was warm against my skin and I sighed.
“Oppa, you’re tickling me,” I giggled. His fingers moved a little more playfully. I jumped when they squeezed my side. I felt a small twinge of pain. “Ow, Dae, that hurt.” The hand stopped moving. “Be careful.” The hand pulled away. And that’s when it hit me. I clapped a hand over my mouth. “Oh my God, I didn’t mean—it was an accident.” I threw myself to my other side to face him, sharp pain shooting from my ribs. I found Namjoon simply looking at me, no expression on his face. That scared me more than any other possible response. “Namjoon?”
Namjoon threw the covers off and got out of bed. I tried to grab his arm and missed, more pain stabbing into me.
“Wait, Namjoon!” Namjoon ignored me and went into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. I rushed to follow him, almost tripping over the covers. “Namjoon,” I called just outside the door. Tears welled up in my eyes, not just from the pain. I hadn’t even thought when I’d said it, it just slipped out; it was a habit. “I didn’t mean to say it, it came out.” He didn’t answer. “Namjoon, please open the door. Listen to me, talk to me.” Still no answer. My heart felt like there was a vice around it.
I decided to keep talking anyway. “You said you understood and you promised to be patient with me,” I said desperately. “You know he was the only man I was ever with. We were together for four years, one of which I was at his place more than mine and two of which were us actually living together. I spent three years of my life waking up to him. It’s habit, nothing more. I don’t wish you were him and I’m not comparing you to him. I love you, Namjoon. Please open the door.”
Tears fell. I pressed my forehead against the door. I was devastated. And this time, it was my fault. “…I understand. I’m sorry, oppa. I’ll leave.”
“Don’t,” he responded through the door. My head shot up. “I understand. Just… give me a minute. It’s not me that’s upset with you, it’s my other side. And I’m trying to keep from letting it throw you on the bed and make you scream my name, reminding you of who I am. It definitely won’t take you gently.” My breath caught. That was one thing I was happy to imagine.
“Damn these ribs,” I cursed myself.
The door shook when Namjoon slammed his hand against it. “Saying things like that is not helping.”
I had to remind myself that my ribs were not healed enough to allow me to open that door right then. “Alright. I’ll just… I’ll find something to put together for breakfast. Come out when you can.”
After that, I did what I said, albeit reluctantly, and went to the kitchen. As per usual, there wasn’t much to eat because apparently Namjoon wasn’t allowed to cook, according to the others. I grabbed the stuff for our cereal and a blood supplement tablet for Namjoon. When he still wasn’t out, I started washing the dishes from the previous night. I was almost finished when hands snaked around my waist. I sighed in relief.
“I’m sorry about that. It’s sometimes next-to-impossible to control that side of me. But don’t worry, I can handle it. I just need a chance to calm down, okay?”
I rinsed off my hands and turned around, placing my wet hands on Namjoon’s face. “Okay.”
“You did not just put your wet hands on my face. Especially not with the intention of actually getting water on me. Right?”
“Of course not, dimples.” Namjoon narrowed his eyes. I gently patted his chest. “C’mon. I’m hungry.” Namjoon wiped his face off with his shirt and we sat down to eat. Definitely with no intention.
When we finished eating, Namjoon asked about what had happened with Yoongi the previous night. I gave him an edited version of the events, one that wouldn’t end up with him trying to kill Yoongi. I couldn’t tell him about the short image of him drinking from me. It made me sick thinking about it. I couldn’t help my voice faltering when I told him about feeling the bond with Yoongi.
“But I swear, the feelings aren’t shared. I felt that there was something, but I don’t return the feelings.” I couldn’t look up at him.
“And why did hyung leave?”
“Because… because the bonded side of him wanted to kiss me.” Namjoon’s chair was flung back violently as he stood up. “He didn’t kiss me! He didn’t!” I shot up and held onto him. His whole body radiated murder. “He felt the urge, the same way you do, but he fought it, the same way you did that time at the gathering. He didn’t kiss me. He made me leave the room and then he apparently left the apartment. So that he could control himself! Oppa, he’s trying. You, yourself, know that you can’t really completely control that side of you. You have to fight, and he’s fighting. Don’t be angry with him. Look!” I pointed to the counter where he’d broken the granite. “He fought.”
Namjoon’s muscle relaxed as he reigned in his rage. “You’re right, I know you’re right. I can’t help it though. He touched you and that’s driving me crazy.”
I pressed myself against him. “Then erase his touch.”
Namjoon didn’t need to be told twice. His lips were on mine in a second and his hands lightly held me. He stayed away from the areas he knew would make it too difficult to stop. We kissed slowly, passionately, for a few minutes before needing to stop. We both decided that I would spend the day there since neither of us wanted me to leave yet. Namjoon gave me another set of clothes so I could shower and change. I waited to see if he would come into the shower after me. He seemed to have found his self-control as he didn’t come in. I didn’t know whether to feel disappointed or not.
The two of us snuggled down into the couch for the entirety of the day. I felt lucky that no one called me that day. I wasn’t sure if I would’ve been able to make myself leave. Being enveloped in Namjoon’s scent kept me overwhelmingly elated. I still don’t know how it was possible for me to fall in love so quickly, but I don’t mind it at all. Of course, there are still plenty of things I don’t know about him and vice versa, but that will all come in time. And I can’t wait until I’m healed enough for us to be together on a more… intimate level. It didn’t help that Namjoon would randomly lay teasing kisses on my neck and shoulder.
With work the next day, I knew I couldn’t stay again. Namjoon drove me home. A quick and passionate kiss was what we had to tide us over until our next date on Friday.
At work, Sam talked with her trusted coworkers about something one of the vampires she’d met at the meeting had talked to her about. The vampire wanted to know more about the loopholes enforcers took advantage of that allowed them to hold vampires for longer than should have been allowed. They were already working with the ones from the vampire side of the enforcers as well. Sam’s coworkers were happy to meet with some of the associates, privately of course, and discuss ideas for fixing the problems.
Friday was Sam’s turn to pick the date so she decided to have a little fun and have them go to a local dog café. Namjoon loved watching her have fun with the dogs; they seemed to flock to her. When Namjoon was finally forced to join in, Sam laughed, saying he looked right at home. She played with his hair that he recently dyed a dark burgundy color, and pretended he was just another one of the dogs. She wouldn’t admit it to him, but she actually found his new color extremely attractive. It reminded her of the color of his eyes when things got too heavy between them. It made her want to see that color naturally on him.
After that, they weren’t able to meet for another week. Namjoon was busy at work trying to help organize more of the programs they were creating. Sam tried to help with what she could, but there wasn’t a lot for her to do. Since she was still injured, she knew it wouldn’t be smart to continue on her rounds at night. As the week wore on, darkness settled over her. She had almost forgotten the week as it approached, but the day she hated more than anything was coming.
Their date night was quieter than usual. Sam seemed off. When Namjoon would ask about it, Sam would say it was nothing and change the subject to something else. Namjoon wanted to ask more, but since their relationship was still new, he didn’t want her to feel like he was prying. She’d already shared so much about herself and he wanted her to say things as she became comfortable. They ended the night with a short, chaste kiss.
Over the next week, Sam became distant. She didn’t answer his messages for long periods of time and then when she finally did, they were short responses. Namjoon wanted to come over to check on her, but Sam was vague about her schedule. Finally, Namjoon did what he needed—he called Meg. He’d saved Meg’s number in his phone in case something like what happened before happened again.
“Hi. This is Meg, right?”
“Yes. Who’s this?” her voice was full of suspicion.
“This is Namjoon.”
“Nam—Ah, right, Sam’s boyfriend.” Her voice was pleasant now. “How can I help you?”
“Something’s wrong with Sam. She won’t tell me anything and I don’t know her schedule so I don’t know when I can stop by. I was just wondering if you knew her schedule.”
“Schedule? She didn’t tell you?”
“Tell me what?”
“She’s been off the whole week and she’ll be off next week as well. Just like every year.”
“She didn’t say anything. Is she on vacation?”
Meg was quiet for a moment. “You should talk to Sam.” Those words unnerved Namjoon.
“I’ve tried. When I call, she messages me that she can’t answer and when I text, she gives short answers.”
Meg sighed. “Look, I like the two of you together. I think you’re really good for her. That’s the only reason I’m telling you this. And that’s also why I’m going to tell you to go see her. Go to her apartment. I don’t know if she’ll open the door, but try.” Now Namjoon was worried. Why is she hiding?
“Alright, thank you. I really appreciate it. I’ll go see her right now. Thanks.”
“Wait. Before you go, pick up some real food. She probably hasn’t eaten much this week. If nothing else, ice cream and chocolate will do the trick.”
“You’re welcome. And you better be good to my girl.” After that, they said their pleasantries and hung up. Namjoon was out the door immediately. He drove by a store on the way over and grabbed ready-to-go meals, chocolate, ice cream, pastries, and a few of Sam’s favorite fruits. Namjoon was anxious to see her and see what was wrong with her. He took the stairs because the elevator was taking too long (as far as he was concerned) and raced up to her apartment. He knocked and there was no answer. He knocked again.
“I didn’t order anything,” he heard her voice say from inside.
“Sam, it’s Namjoon.” He heard thumping coming from the apartment. It went on for a good ten seconds or so until he heard her heavy steps approaching the door.
She only opened it a crack, not allowing him to even really see her.
“Namjoon.” Her voice was cracked and nasally. “I didn’t expect you. Why’d you come by?” Namjoon frowned. He was both worried about the sound of her voice and a little disappointed that she didn’t seem at all happy to hear from him.
“I was worried. I could tell something was wrong. Then I heard you’ve been off work this whole week. I needed to make sure you were okay.”
“How—Actually, never mind. I’m fine.” He didn’t miss the small hitch in her breathing.
“Can you open the door?”
“Why? You can hear I’m fine.”
“I can hear you saying you’re fine, but I can tell you’re not. I want to see you.”
“No, you don’t,” she said quickly. She tried to close the door, but Namjoon stuck his foot in the way. “Namjoon. Move your foot.”
“No. Not until I see you.”
“You can see me in a week. Just please—“ she accidentally let out a small sob.
“Sam, open the door. Please… I need to see you. You know I love you no matter what. Please let me see you… Please, feisty.”
For a second, he thought she was going to refuse again. But then he felt the pressure on the door disappear. He gently pushed it open. Standing just on the other side, Sam stood with her head hanging. Her streaked hair suggested she hadn’t washed it in a few days, but some sort of sweet scent masked any smell she might have had. Seeing her in that state killed him. She quickly pulled the hood of her sweater over her head and wiped at her eyes. He dropped the bags and didn’t hesitate to pull her into a hug. She was stiff in his arms, but he was okay with that.
“Sam, what’s wrong?” A short sob shook her frame for only a moment. He held her tighter, but not tight enough to hurt her ribs that still weren’t completely healed. “Please tell me what’s wrong.” Namjoon used his foot to close the door. “Let’s sit you on the couch,” Namjoon said gently. They sat down and Sam pulled away from him. “What’s wrong?”
“I smell,” she said quietly.
“I don’t care. I just want to hold you and make whatever’s wrong go away.” He used his finger to lift her chin. Her eyes were red and swollen from crying and had dark circles under them. It looked like she hadn’t slept in days and had just cried the whole time. Namjoon’s heart broke to see her like that. “God…” He pulled her against him and just held her there. She started crying again.
“I thought I could do it,” she murmured against his chest. “But… I’m still just so pathetic. And I… I wanted to be with you but… I don’t want you to get mad. I don’t want you to leave me because… because I’m so pathetic.”
“I wouldn’t leave you. Whatever it is, I’m right here for you, no matter what. You can tell me what it is.”
She looked up at him. “Tomorrow…” She looked back down. She was afraid to tell him. If he knows, he’ll get mad, he’ll leave. Why would he want to be with someone who still cries over someone else?
“It’s okay. Just tell me what’s wrong so I can help you.” He carefully turned her back up to him. “Please. It kills me to see you like this.”
“Don’t be mad,” she cried softly.
“Why would I be mad? I won’t be mad.”
“Tomorrow…” she took in a shaky breath, “tomorrow is the anniversary... of his death.”
“Death? Whose—“ He didn’t have to finish that question. He tensed for only a fraction of a second before he held her tighter. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. And I couldn’t possibly be mad. You can cry as much as you need to. I’m right here for you.” She started sobbing.
It’d been three years since the attack; three years since she’d lost the things she held most dear. All she’d had after was Granny, Meg, and her closest friends to try to help her stay together. She spiraled into a dark depression. One of them had to watch her at all times for the next few months after, knowing that she would try to join her love if she had the chance. And though time had made a lot of the pain fade, she still broke down just before and after the anniversary. Namjoon had taken so much of that pain away and Sam was loved and felt hope for the future. But the day still made her fall apart. She would usually take a two week vacation and stay with Granny for that time, but this year, she had wanted to try to do it on her own. It didn’t work.
Namjoon looked on the table and saw a picture of Sam and a man he was assuming was Daesung. They looked so happy. He felt a small pang of jealousy and immediately felt disgusted at himself. On the picture sat the ring and partially under the picture was another paper that he couldn’t really see. It was almost all black with seemingly random white spots and streaks. And then it hit him. He hesitantly picked up the picture. It was exactly what he thought it was—an ultrasound. Namjoon’s heart clenched painfully. Sam had lost more than her fiancé in that senseless attack.
Yeah, so, here I go again with the dark past stuff I tend to do. Hopefully, it's not too much. I hope you enjoyed the chapter nonetheless. I look forward to seeing you all on Thursday!
Thanks for reading!
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Also, I'm starting to upload all my old stories onto Wattpad in case anyone is interested or uses it. My username is the same. Thanks in advance!