Pretty Little Thing || PJM || ✔️

3.

"Namjoon!" Jungkook called into the house as soon as he opened the door, and said man appeared in the doorway to the kitchen clad only in a pair of boxers with a sandwich hanging out of his mouth.

"You're home earlier than I expected," He said, his voice muffled behind the sandwich. He shook his head when he saw Jungkook struggling to keep Jimin upright, "How much did he drink?!"

"I don't think he actually had that much," Jungkook grunted, "He's just tired,"

"Did you see her?" Jimin asked Jungkook, his words slurring and his head spinning, "The girl,"

Namjoon joined Jungkook and the pair helped Jimin up the stairs, "He got laid," Jungkook said, "No, I didn't see her, but I'm guessing it was the girl who had been all over you from the second we stepped in,"

"Not her," Jimin mumbled, "At the door,"

"Alright buddy," Namjoon said, laying Jimin down and pulling his shoes off, "Go to sleep, alright? You need a rest,"

Jungkook fumbled with the button on Jimin's jeans, and combined with Namjoons efforts, they managed to drag the tight material off his legs and throw his blanket over him.

"Curtains," Jimin mumbled, his eyes already closing.

"Yeah, I'll shut them," Namjoon said, heading for the window, "There you go," He dragged the drapes along the wooden bar above the window, covering the glass and plunging the room into darkness.

"Thanks," Jimin mumbled, the dizziness in his intoxicated mind slipping away and pulling him into sleep.

He began to reawaken, however, when he felt the bite of icy cold air on his face. It was cold; cold enough to make him shiver.

He opened his eyes when he heard a gentle sliding sound like someone was pulling something across a wooden surface.

The curtains were spread wide, revealing his open window. He was sure it wasn't open, as it was warm when Jungkook and Namjoon put him to bed. There was, of course, the possibility of him only being warm because of the alcohol, but he had been out, and he always made sure his window was shut before leaving.

He was a student, he couldn't afford for things to be stolen. His laptop also contained all of his hard work, and although he had backed it up on a USB drive, he realised that said stick was actually still plugged into the laptop.

It took him a second to decide because he was comfortable, but he decided it would be better to get up and close the window. He was so cold.

However, the thought of leaving the comfort of his bed was ripped from his mind when he heard something agonizingly familiar at his bedroom door.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

His eyes widened, and he could feel the tears already beginning to well up in his eyes. This was different. The window wasn't supposed to be open. The window was never open in the dream. He had woken up cold before the knocking started. Why was this different to normal?

The scrape of a long, sharp fingernail along the painted door came next, so loud that it sent shivers up Jimin's spine. He squeezed his eyes shut, pulling his covers over his head like a frightened child. The couldn't be happening. It had to be a dream.

But why was the window open?

He heard the creak of the door opening, and then came the heavy breathing and the slow, methodical footsteps across the floorboards.

They didn't stop at the foot of his bed.

Why didn't the footsteps stop?

The breathing was directly over his head. He could almost feel the ragged, struggling breaths of whoever it was standing over him. The fingernail dragged down the headboard. He knew it was going to.

But why didn't the footsteps stop? Why didn't he have his blanket dragged from him?

Why was the goddamn window open?!

The breathing got louder as if the person was bending over, putting their face closer to him, and he opened his mouth trying to scream for help, but nothing came out. It was as if his voice was stolen.

He opened his eyes. It was just a dream.

He saw the faint shadow of a hand; fingers long and bony ending in sharp, curved nails reach slowly towards him.

It was just a dream.

The fingers touched the blanket, and Jimin thought as if his heart was about to explode. It hurt to breathe. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't move. He was trapped.

It was just a dream.

The gentle caress of the fingers on the blanket changed. It gripped it hard and began to pull.

It was just a dream!

Jimin held onto the blanket with all his might. He could not let whoever it was take the only comfort he had left away from him.

It was just a dream!

Wake up!

He struggled, his fists turning white from how hard he was gripping the blanket.

Wake up!

It's just a dream, wake up!

He finally got his voice back, screaming as the blanket was ripped from his fingers and thrown back across the room. He covered his face with his hands, curling into himself, screaming as loudly as he could.

Maybe someone would hear him.

It was just a dream.

Wake up!

Wake up!

"Wake up! Jimin, wake up! Holy shit!"

Jungkook dragged Jimins hands from his face, his face a mask of pure terror that was enough to make even his blood run cold.

"Jimin, it's us, it's Jungkook and Namjoon!"

Jimin slowly stopped the cry of horror as he opened his teary eyes to see the panicked face of his friends.

"Jungkook," His voice cracked, and he was more surprised that he hadn't torn his vocal chords he was screaming so loudly.

He choked out a sob and sat up, throwing his arms around his shocked friends' shoulders and clinging to him.

"Shit, Jimin," Namjoon sighed, rubbing his back, "What happened? Are you alright?"

Jimin couldn't even speak. Jungkook rubbed his back, shooting Namjoon a worried look.

"Jimin, I think you need to see someone about this," He said quietly, "This is getting too much now. We're worried about you,"

He began to calm down now he had the comfort of another human and managed to get control of his breathing. He was drenched in sweat, so much that he could feel it dripping off his face, and he was sure that the pillow his head was resting on was saturated with the liquid.

"I thought you wanted the curtains closed, Jimin?" Namjoon said, getting up from the bed and heading to the window, "And no wonder it's so cold in here, your window is wide open,"

Jimin's entire body ran as cold as ice. He slowly pulled back from Jungkook and turned to face Namjoon. His heart began to pound heavily in his chest again, and when he spoke it sounded more like a whimper than a sentence.

"Why is the window open?" He breathed, his eyes wide, "The window is never open. It's different. Why is everything changing?"

Jungkook and Namjoon exchanged glances, "Jimin? What are you talking about?"