Into the dark// Namjin fanfiction Completed

lost

Jin lay awake staring at the ceiling, it was a very nice ceiling, but Jin was tired of staring at it. Five of the six boys previously sleeping in the room were still there, sleeping. He felt bad getting up and waking everyone up, but he was bored and his phone was so far away. He ended up getting up anyway and tiredly stumbling into the kitchen to make breakfast. He stood in the doorway, watching Namjoon trying and failing to cook.

"You're going to cut your finger off that way," Jin chided, and without thinking about it, he marched over to the other boy and, putting no space between their bodies, guided Namjoon's hand with his own. Within minutes Namjoon's breathing became jagged and shallow.

"Get off me," he growled. Jin froze, the intensity in Namjoon's voice surprised Jin, before now his conversations with Namjoon had been smug and petty, but his voice now made everything more real, Namjoon actually hated him. Jin moved slowly off of Namjoon, using the counter for the support that his shaky legs couldn't provide.

"Namjoon," Jin's mouth became dry as he prepared to ask the question he didn't know he needed the answer to up until this point, "Why do you hate me?"

"Does it matter?" Namjoon asked leaving the room, his wordshitJin like a freight train, did it matter? Did he need to know?

Shrugging it off, he regains his composure and looks around at the mess Namjoon had made. There were bell peppers in a pan over the stove, with no heat on, and onions on a cutting board. With the evidence he had, he would have assumed fajitas but for breakfast? He was puzzled but decided he didn't know what else to make, so he made fajitas. After a little while of standing in the kitchen, Jimin walked in.

"Oh, I've been meaning to ask you a question Jin, What were you really doing in my room yesterday, because I know you can navigate a building without ever being in it, unless you were lying," the words rolled off Jimin's tongue so casually, so easily.

"You caught me, I just needed to see you without a shirt," Jin answered, panicking.

"Sure," he drawled, "It's fine we can come back to that, what are you making?"

"Fajitas? I don't know, Namjoon was here making something earlier and then he left, so with what he had, I made fajitas," Jin rambled.

"Well, I'll go get everyone up and we can eat," Jimin said, walking out of the kitchen.

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"Bye, guys, see you Monday," Jin said, leaving, and simultaneously hearing a chorus of 'goodbyes.' The walk home was no longer than the walk to and from school, but he didn't like walking, it gave him a chance to think, and right now, that's really not what he needed.

After the long and daunting walk, he arrived at his house, the same house that he had been living in for a summer, yet something felt different as soon as he stepped onto the property. Hesitantly, he stepped forward, putting one foot slowly in front of the other until he reached the door. His brain told him to open the door, logically thinking, nothing should be wrong, but his heart panicked every time he inched forward to the handle.

After a good twenty minutes of standing at his door, panicking, he went inside. As soon as he stepped through the door, he could tell something was wrong. His parents were very clean people, but this room was the farthest he had ever seen from his parents' standards. The decorations were strewn across the floor, a red substance, that Jin hoped wasn't blood, stained the carpets, and all the shelves were knocked down, their contents spilling out all over the floor.

Jin didn't know exactly what had happened, but he did know exactly who did it.

'It wasn't over, it'll never be over.'