The night held them in a loving embraced. They were the darkness and all the life it held. Feared and forgotten warriors of old. Not good, not bad, but somewhere in the grey.
BTS X READER | based/ inspired of Ryan Kirks Nightblade trilogy. You DON'T...
(Hello sorry it been a while, I didn't relise how long I had left it to update please enjoy xxx)
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Everything felt numb, empty and still. There was something to grasps, but (y/n)s mind nor her body would do so. There was a sense of painlessness with a great closeness to something she didn't understand. All colours she saw and cares she had were glazed to grey, shrivelled, and stricken to dots. At that moment, all there was emptiness, nothing more, nothing less. The rest of the world became detached in her sleepy state.
But, slowly, her mind cleared, and a throbbing in her head began to grow. The pain felt like someone had taken a knife to her skull. Squeezing her eyes shut tighter, she willed the pain to go away.
As her eyes open, her limbs flex in shock, sending blows of agony across her body. She stifled a scream. Bangedges ran up each one of her limbs. All that meet her skin was the warm white cotton. There was binding on her arm, legs, torso and even around her neck. The broken skin was preferable to death, though.
She wanted to stand, but for the moment, her legs had given way to gravity, shaky, weak.
(Y/N) blinked, the blurriness fading her surroundings became crisper. She saw the familiar interior of the place she missed.
Bottles of medicine and bandages were scattered across the wooden floor. Streams of light flood in from the open door, highlighting the dust particles that danced in the air. There was no one else in the hut, only her and the pots and pans. A mixture of real and wooden weapons was missing off the wall. She could only assume her saviours were out training.
The more she sat looking around, the more the coldness of the air was becoming more apparent. She wanted to use her sense, but she was afraid she was too weak to reach further than a meter without her head exploding.
(Y/n) had no recollection of how she got home or how long she had been out. Either way, she was thankful the Abbot was no longer there to recreate her nightmares.
Bracing herself, (y/n) stood up. (Y/n) stumbled across to the doorway. She looked like a newborn animal who had just learnt to walk that very morning. With each step, a new wave of pain came.
It hurt like hell. Her white bandages were starting to stain red in places where the cut had reopened, but it didn't matter. She just wanted air.
Finally, she made it outside. She felt the sun beat down on her skin. The feel of the hot air made a nice change from the cold hut. With each inhalation, the was air so thick you could cut through it. She liked the way that as small gusts of wind blew past - her skin would softly shiver before returning to its still, warmed state. While the simple robes she wore over the bandages waved about.
The sun hung impossibly in the sky and poured out its brilliant hot oranges and reds like a pot of molten lava. (Y/n) took the time to bask in all its glory. After all, she had spent god knows how long in the Abbots quartered, the only light source being candles.
Slowly she made her way down the path and into the woods. Her sense expanded slow taking in every living thing it could touch. It was overwhelming to start with, but she soon got used to it.
Back at the monastery, all she had was the beaten and dishevelled greens of the grass mingle with the brighter hue of the mosses and the dullness of the earth. But here, the trees laid lower to the ground and filter into the dense woodlands. They hunker down to give a lower profile to the wind. Here there were real flowers with petals that look painted by a great artist. Nothing was too bright: nothing was big or bold. If she turned on the spot, the world would become a kaleidoscope of green blur, spinning and brilliant.
Everything was just so much more alive.
After ten minutes at the edge of the forest, it was all too much on her damaged body. She didn't want to risk making her head hurt more. She hobbled back to the hut and flopped out on the matt she woke upon. A low grunt escaped her lips as the wounds on her back came in contact with the floor.
For the first time in a very long time, (y/n) pushed down the pain and let herself relax. She fiddled with the scab of a small cut on her finger watching, the blood ooze and trickle down her hand. Disgusting, she knew, but it passed the time. Soon enough, the lack of food within her became apparent. Her stomach growled, confirming her hunger.
(Y/n) heard the playful shouting of the boys before sending them. A small smile graced her lips. She had missed those boys more than anything. T
They were family.
The group flooded into the small space. Just like that, the peaceful atmosphere had been replaced with shouting and chaos. The boys clumsily put away their weapons and wiped the sweat that had accumulated throughout training.
Everybody was so surrounded by their own little world as they sorted themselves out. It brought a fond glint to (y/n)s eyes.
"How's she doing?" Jin called out to no one in particular - while he rummaged through a woven basket filled with various fruits and vegetables from the garden.
(Y/n) decided to make her consciousness know before anyone would have the chance to figure it out. "I'm ok," She shouted her voice came out a little strangled from not using it for so long, but it did the job. Seven heads made a sharp turn toward her direction, a mixture of confusion, surprise and relief written on their faces.
Namjoon was the first to move. He carefully picked a path along the crowded floor before kneeling down in front of (Y/n). He gently held the side of her face, his thumb gliding over her cheek.
Namjoon's eyes magnified by the salty coating of his un-weeped tears, lasered into her own. For a moment, (y/n) felt stripped down, like he could read everything that had happened from her eyes.
He gently pulled her into his chest. In his embrace, she felt safe. "Please don't leave again." His words hardly managed to break out through the sob's he held in, choking his voice back. His chin rested on top of her head. His arms tightened around her waist.
"I'm not going anywhere. I promise." She whispered back into his chest, taking in his familiar scent.
