Blood, Sweat & Tears // BTS Zombie Apocalypse AU

| 6 |

No longer than 12 hours had passed since the return of Yoongi and Jimin.

When Hoseok and Taehyung had woken up, they tackled the pair in a hug. No words were spoken, only the breathless gasps of tears and the merging of lost hearts.

After hours upon hours of playing games with each other, reminiscing on favourite fast food chains and cracking subtle inside jokes, the members grew fatigued.

The lost sleep haunting each man eventually caught up, and all fell into a deep slumber on the cushioned floor. All but one.

A surprisingly lone wolf called Jimin sat by the window, set at ease by his friend's soft snoring and incoherent mumbles in the midst of their snoozing.

Though, the groans of zombies in the distance and the far-off clinking of metal fences seemed to grow louder with every passing second. His own rapid heartbeat discouraged him.

As he gazed away at the scintillas he called stars, he found himself asking many questions. They were soft, almost inaudible whispers that overlapped one another, ringing like bells in his ears.

Would everyone really be safe here?

How long would their food and water supplies last?

What if someone got hurt?

If things were bad today, how about tomorrow?

The day after that?

How long could they take this?

Jimin couldn't find an answer to any of the queries he had. He only knew they'd come to him soon enough in the most bitter way known to man.

As he watched the slow dance of transparent clouds and the milky glare of the moon with sad eyes, he wondered how this entire scenario would play out.

Would he continue to shine, or would he plummet like a falling star, ever dimming and broken beyond repair?

Jimin's eyes were now cast downward. He scuffed the dusty floor with his socks, pulling his knees to his stomach and propping his arms on them.

Slowly, he lowered his chin onto his arms and bit his trembling lip.

He had already lost himself in the darkness, and the sinking despair of it all gouged itself into his hollow chest so deep he swore he felt scarlet bubble to the surface like skulls in misty water.

He didn't know what to do. He eyed a shooting star that darted deftly across the blackness of the night sky. He managed to string a sentence together and muttered out the words. It was not a wish, but a question.

"What do I do?" He whispered in a deathly soft voice, saltwater blurring his vision so the constellations grew hazy and distorted. "What do I do?"

Jungkook stirred in his sleep and cracked open a single eye tiredly. He caught sight of the immobile Jimin by the window and sat up, addled.

He gazed for a while longer, watching the saltwater that fell from his eyes and the long sleeve that came up to erase it.

Slowly and silently, he stood, his warm blanket hanging over his forearm. No words were exchanged when Jimin's misty eyes turned to meet Jungkook's starry pair.

He sat down next to the mournful boy, draping the blanket around both of their shoulders and holding the worn-down corners close to their chests.

"The night stole fast," Jimin recited in a warbler's tune, "an assassin of dark, seizing the day with his army of stars."