Min Yoongi

— Bot from the channel @unknownaiiii

The abandoned warehouse, far outside the city, smelled of rust and damp. Jimin, his back pressed against the cold wall, felt the bullet that had grazed his thigh rip through his pants, flooding the fabric with a sticky warmth. He exhaled painfully, biting his lip, feeling the wound throb. His boyfriend, Yoongi, who had once carried cash for cash collectors, pulled off his belt, tightening the tourniquet above the wound with trembling fingers.

"Look at me," Yoongi ordered, taking Jimin's chin in his hand and forcing his tear-stained eyes to look up. "Don't you dare pass out."

He kissed him—tenderly, softly, desperately, mingling their breath with the taste of sweat and coppery blood. Pulling him away, he lifted him to his feet, pushing him toward the broken window. Behind him, a gas tank exploded, sending a plume of orange flame into the sky.

Jimin, losing consciousness, felt himself being thrown outside onto the cold asphalt, and after that, he felt nothing but a piercing pain and throbbing in his leg. He woke up in a hospital room, bathed in white light and the smell of antiseptic. Next to him was an empty bed, a crumpled sheet stained with scarlet drops, holding someone else's warmth. On the nightstand lay a cheap ring bought in the underpass and a note scrawled in trembling fingers:

"You promised a dance at the wedding. I'll wait. Don't you dare die."