Last Girl Alive | Bangtan

2: Stranger

"Who are you?"

You gulp, forgetting all speech for a second. Your eyes devour this man, his features, his body, his looks. Silver hair falls softly from above his forehead like liquid iron, but as your eyes flicker down his face you see he is young, not old. And he is not just young, he is goddamn good-looking. Or maybe the absence of human presence in your life is what makes him good-looking. Perhaps at this point any person would be good looking.

A smooth forehead peeks from underneath his hair sliding down into a pretty, symmetrical nose. You can't help but notice the tiny metal figurines hanging from his ears beside a sharp jawline that outlines the beauty of his face. To top it off, soft plump lips that are the most kind shade of pink you've seen in a while form an o shape that expresses his surprise.

"Hello?"

The lips suddenly move and you snap out of your awe. You turn your attention back to the man, almost having a nervous breakdown. A human being....finally. After so long. Time to make a good first impression, though considering your baggy clothing that is a contrast to his dark goth outfit, you could be from an inferior species of homo sapien sapien.

"Uh-I...hi," you murmur, continuing to travel down to his body, catching the black coat that emphasizes small curves  revealing some flexibility. The man, temporarily confused with his discovery turns around beckoning to another figure behind him who you had not noticed. The figure came into the light to reveal another man, somewhat more extraordinary, almost towering above the both of you with his broad shoulders.

"A woman," the second man whispers in a lower voice. His eyes scan you almost like a robot, which makes you self-conscious and uncomfortable. "She doesn't look hurt," he adds.

"Are there others with you?" the first man asks, looking behind your shoulder. Just their simple conversation makes you want to cry. Everything about them, their figures, their looks of concern, their human-ness just tempts you to throw yourself into their arms and beg for help.

Because now you weren't alone. Not anymore.

"No," you say. "It's just me. I...can.." you take a deep breath trying to form the words. "Can you tell me what happened? Why did this happen? Where is everyone? How-"

"We don't know either," the second man interrupts you before you can reach a crescendo of unanswered questions.

"We are just like you." He pauses, giving you time to understand their perspective. "Confused. Lost. There are five others of us. Men. You...you're the first woman we have seen in a long time."

And they, were the first people you have seen in a long time. You stand there emotionless, the three of you sinking in the new situation. The dark murky unhealthy sky above thunders a little, and wind blows leaves through the empty, deserted streets.

"Come with us," the first man says, reaching out a hand. You don't hesitate to take it, almost reveling in the warmth of his palm in yours. "We're all the same, anyway. I'm Jimin, by the way. Park Jimin. That's perhaps the most I remember apart from other things."

"Me too!" you add enthusiastically. After spending two months in this world, life with civilization felt like a dream.

Memories of population and your past life have almost faded into nothingness replaced with this harsh, cruel and now familiar reality. You can't remember many things, like the taste of foreign food, what it felt like to get into physical interaction like hugging or handshakes, and you've forgotten music that wasn't played by nature. Along with that went a large part of your identity. Apart from your name, your age and bits of your background you can't remember a single thing.

You don't know what you like or dislike or fear or desire anymore. You don't know yourself but you've come to terms with that. You'd come to accept that because there was no more use for that anyway.

 But maybe now, there was.

"I'm Kim Seokjin," the second man introduces himself, flashing a small smile. A smile. How long had it been since you'd seen a smile? Unaware, you replicate his actions yourself, smiling back wider. "And you are?"

You take a deep breath, exhaling all your loneliness and that feeling of being trapped and single. The colors of buildings and the richness of the sounds around you reach a happier tinge as you reply. For the first time ever, you feel grateful for being alive.

"I'm Y/N," you say.