Zero: A BTS AU (On Hold)

It's a date: Ch 37

I wake up, my face pressed into the fabric of the bedsheet and my arm draped over the sticky and glisting photopaper of the album. I almost have to rip my appendage away from that glossy image, my arm having melded with it in the hours of my slumber.

I rise and place it gently on the desk before heading to the loo then down to the kitchen, hobbling all the while.

I locate the juice and some bread and start snacking like a hungry bear awakened from its winter hibernation before an itchy inkling inside of me begins to grow. It calles on me, taking my full attention and numbing my senses. It is strong and unusual and I have to go upstairs, lead by the swirling feeling like a donkey mindlessly following a carrot on a stick, never quite catching the tantalising treat.

I reach the massive bedroom on the top floor and groan as I look at the bed, rolling my eyes before I turn and hobbled to the desk. I place my cup down and walk to a shelf, grabbing a canvas, paints and some brushes.

'It's go time' I think as I plonk onto the chair and begin my work.

I continuously glide my brush along the coarse material, removing it only to apply more paint or to study my work.

That is until a soft but repeated noise resounds. A knock so quite that my trance should not have been broken, and yet it was. The knock's power to pull me from my work intreages me greatly and I move to find the source.

A pleasent bubble grew in my chest as I drew nearer to to front door, sliding down the stairs like a hypnotized bear following the scent of food after having slumbered the winter months away.

The arm which twanged with pain this morning now itched with a very different feeling, an almost pleasent excitement and I crumple my brows as I think about the stark contrast.

I rush out of the room, leaving the desk a mess as the brush rolls across it, still coated in a layer of green. I descend the stairs as fast as my knee lets me and soon arive at the front entry.

As I reach for the door handle, my left arm extending to take the metal in hand, a strange image on my wrist takes my attention.

'Another tattoo?' I questioned in disbelief at the appearance of yet another incomprehensible and magical marking.

'What is it this time?' I thought, taking that arm away from the handle and moving it closer to examine it whilst my right hand takes it's place upon the chilling surface.

As I turn the handle, light filtering through the wall and opening door whilst my baffled mind questions the almost hourglass shape below my wrist, the melody of my door bell resounds.

"Uh, Hi," says Namjoon, a little wave from his raised hand and a tiny and somewhat nervous smile on his face.

"Oh, hello," I reply with just as much strength and confidence as a mouse.

There are a few moments where no words are spoken, my mind running in circles around itself as it panicks in a failed attempt to comprehend the situation and to stay calm.

Then a light turns on in my head and I spesk, "uh, the beans right? One moment".

My finger rises to halt him in his place as I spin and wobble to the kitchen bench, keeping my knees well away from the harmful metal.

He had tried to interject but my fast, although still impaired, movements and overall state of mess confused him and he is stunned into an obedient silence.

I return with his coffee, handing the bag gently to him. As I do I see a spot of blue on my exposed arm. And then another, and then some green and yellow and purple.