Guardian Angel || A BTS Fanfic

1.8: The First Wingbeat

Taehyung

I woke to the wails of sirens speeding past my window. The darkness in my room was being constantly sliced with blue and red light. The colors struck furniture for a second before disappearing. In almost a minute, the lights were gone.

The wailing sirens still rung in my ears as I quickly got out of bed and stumbled to the door. I blinked a few times, trying to clear the grogginess clouding my head. The alarm clock showed the time in obnoxious, fluorescent green numbers: 2:24 A.M.

Worry crept into my veins as I shoved my front door open. It opened with a reluctant creak and I closed it behind me, my eyes already drawn to the distant flashing lights.

I didn't know what to expect. I didn't want to know what had happened.

Without paying attention to the stumbling, drunk victims of nighttime parties, I began jogging towards the red and blue lights. The screeching sirens still rang dully in the night sky and drew me in easily. Before I realized it, the night sky was no longer a moody indigo but instead a bright blue and red.

"Kid," I heard a voice say gruffly. "Get your hands off that."

I looked down, realizing I was clutching the sickly yellow police tape surrounding the messy scene of sprawling colors. My hands quickly let go and dove into my jacket pockets as my face warmed with embarrassment.

"Sorry sir," I mumbled, glancing at the officer dressed in black. I peered at what was behind him: a black van being circled by police and a crumpled figure. "What happened?"

"Some poor kid got hit by that van," he jerked his thumb to the car behind him. "He was dead once we got here."

"W-who?" I stammered, surprised. "He's already dead?"

"Yes," the officer said tiredly. "We haven't identified him yet. No one seems to know him around here."

"May I see?" I asked. "I--I live around this area."

"I can't let you into the crime scene," the officer shook his head. "But I have a picture."

He handed me the white backside of a printed picture. With trembling hands, I turned it over slowly and nearly dropped the black-and-white photo.

It was a picture of the boy's face--he had a dreamy expression in his glazed over eyes even though his mouth was wide open in shock. My heart sank and I felt my body ice over, as if I was dropped into freezing water. There was no mistaking who this delicate-featured boy was.

"Park Jimin..." I whispered. "How could this happen?"

"Excuse me?" The officer leaned over the yellow police tape. "What was his name?"

'Was', I thought dimly. "Park Jimin. He's...he was my friend."

The officer's stern face softened a little. "I'm so sorry," he said in a gentler tone. "Do you know anyone we could call?"

I shook my head numbly. A few hours ago I had turned him away because of my selfish frustration. Just a few hours ago his wide, inquisitive eyes searched mine. Less than a day ago he had held my hand to comfort me.

"Taehyung, I can't sleep," he whined. "Just a little bit longer, okay?"

"Fine," I laughed. "My phone's going to burn up at this rate."

"Friends?"

"Jin hyuuung!" He called, waving his arms with a giant grin on his face. "We're over here!"

"Relatives?"

"This is my little sister, Yuna!" He beamed, pointing at the picture. "Isn't she adorable?"