A/N: Angst in only chapter three? Oh, fantastic. Remember to listen to the music link provided! It'll really get those feels going, trust me. xoxo

//

What are you going to do?

Your mind races through millions of thoughts: escape? Not possible. Telling the truth? Would just get you killed.

But so will silence.

For the first time ever in your life, you truly don’t know what to do.

You kneel in front of Jin, his grip on your chin so tight you feel as if the bone underneath the skin will crack. His eyes never leave you. Instead, he waits for your answer.

Will you give him an answer, or will you stay tight lipped?

There’s that same cool feeling upon your neck, a sharp probing against your esophagus. You can’t tell what it is; your view is tilted upwards. It must be a knife, right? But he’s not holding anything with his other hand, so what can it be?

You don’t know.

Jin jerks your chin, leaning in so close that you can feel his breath upon your face.

“Not going to speak? Huh?”

You can tell that he’s running out of patience. He’s already given you time to say what you have to say, and now that you haven’t given him what he has asked for, you are going to have to pay.

“I’ll give you one last chance, girlie,” he snarls, his teeth baring.

The metal point against your neck pushes in further, breaking the first layers of skin. You hiss from the sharp pain—the weapon cutting into your flesh.

Are you going to tell him?

But you can’t.

You think of the bracelet that you wear, behind you. The moonstone. And then you think about the past, what you had done. What you are capable of.

You had sworn to your mother and you had sworn to yourself. You would never again use your Element. You would just be a normal girl and nothing more. No Elements. No powers. Nothing.

Just human.

Don’t you remember what you had done?

You want to sob just thinking about it. You were never meant to use your Element. You were never meant to learn how to train it to its maximum power, you were never meant to—

“Jin,” somebody says. The man sitting on the top bunk. “She’s hyperventilating.”

You don’t realize that he’s right until you notice just how out of breath you are. Your head is dizzy, your vision blurred.

Jin… Jin.

His face becomes a mirage of somebody else and you want to scream.

Is it him? Was it truly him?

“I-I’m sorry,” you gasp out. Chest heaving, your voice sounds heady, like static. You gape like a fish as Jin turns into the last person you want to see, and yet the person that you to see the most.

Is it him? Is it?

“I-I’m so sorry I’m so, so, so—”

The metal against your throat cuts deeper into your flesh. You can feel it now, the hot blood running down your neck, and you smile. Relish the feeling.

“If you’re so goddamn sorry you better tell what Kind you are!”

You’re beginning to shake uncontrollably. Freakishly. Like some sort of crazy, insane animal.

And then there’s a tear.

“I didn’t mean to do it,” you ramble. Spit drools down from your mouth, mixing with the blood on the ground.

“I really didn’t mean to.”

“She’s a ing goner,” another man drawls. “Just kill her already, Jin.”

“No.”

His voice hushes, all of sudden.

“Wait.”

Jin gets down on one knee. The rest of the boys are wondering what in the ing world he’s doing, but Jin is smart. Jin is tactful. He knows how to manipulate people into what he wants, knows how to get what he needs.

You feel the metal leave your neck.

Instead, it cuts open the bound upon your wrists.

You collapse, your spine no longer stark straight and your head hanging down. You intake huge gulps of oxygen, trying to clear your brain. But there’s something that’s still hanging on, a ghost of your past that won’t seem to let you be free. Your mind is muddled from anxiety and fear and the adrenaline from earlier is fading away, leaving you a pile of skin and bones.

Your head is faint, your skin sallow. You’re so hungry. You’re so tired.

You hear a voice, a voice so sweet. So much like him.

Fingers caress your cheek, a thumb brushing right under your eye.

“Hey sweetheart,” the voice coos. It’s not tinged with anything malicious at all. In fact, it makes your heart relentlessly flutter. It reminds you of him. Gosh, how you missed him.

Your let your eyes flutter shut and you instinctively lean into the touch. Oh, you must be dreaming.

But this is real, isn’t it?

“Sweetheart, can’t you tell me what Kind you are? I don’t remember anymore. It’s been so many years.”

You break out laughing, tears running down your face. You even have the decency to smile. After all, you don’t have to be afraid when you’re with him.

He will keep you safe.

He always has.

“You’re being funny,” you giggle. Something in the back of your brain feels like it isn’t right. Something’s off, but you can’t tell what, and now that you are in his arms, you can’t bring yourself to care. “You’re the one who always reminded me what Kind I was! You called me your little Sagittarius girl, don’t you remember?”

There’s a deep chuckle next to you. The thumb moves from your cheek to the crest of your ear, caressing it.

Gosh, you missed his touch so, so much.

“I remember now, honey. You’re a Fire Kind, aren’t you?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I am.”

Your voice grows hushed now, softer. His words are like a lullaby to you. They always have been.

Memories drift back into your mind. Evenings when he would tuck you into bed, days spent writing calligraphy by the flower garden. He would always send you messages, poetry that he had written all by himself.

You remember days training your Elements together and you remember days when he would put it upon himself to coil your hair, pinning it into place in the most beautiful braided ways.

The voice continues to lull you, softer then and softer then.

“Mid? Peak?”

You snort.

“Peak, you silly! And…”

You frown in your memories. Imagining him. Remembering him.

No—he’s back here with you, isn’t he?

You’re confused.

“And what, sweetheart? You can tell me, beautiful.”

Beautiful.

Now—now you’re not confused. He always called you beautiful. When the two of you were younger, it was “pretty”. But then he got older. In your eyes, he went from “cute” to “handsome”.

And in his eyes, you went from “pretty” to “beautiful” to “gorgeous”, to “princess” and to “my lady”.

He had never wanted another.

“And Peak… Air.”

There is silence.

A stunned silence.

And then the touch leaves you.

You are like an abandoned infant at the side of the road. Like a child who has just lost his or her mother. Like a lost lamb. You can’t function, all of a sudden. You need him, you need to know that he is there. That he is with you.

“A-Are you still there?” you call out. Eyes shut, you reach out with a hand. You feel the dirt on the ground, but you can’t feel him.

Where is he?

Growing worried now, you search further. Fingers, sifting through the dirt as if you are blind—your nails are encrusted with the stuff, but you can’t find him. You can’t find him!

“W-Where are you? Huh?”

No response.

You outstretch both hands, crawling on all fours. Heart wrenching, you frantically run your hands through the soil, burying them through the ground searching and searching and searching—where is he?! Why can’t you find him?

“Please…” you whimper.

“Please, please don’t leave me again!”

Your run your filthy hands through your hair, more than hysterical. He’s gone. You have lost him, again.

You turn into a complete fit of trembles, no longer knowing where you are or why you are here. What is this place? It’s all pitch black, a damned purgatory for you to constantly be teased with thoughts of your love, but never truly have him in the first place.

It’s all your fault.

All your fault.

A sob leaves your mouth. A terrifying, heartbroken sob.

All your fault all your fault all your goddamn fault.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper.

But then there are arms around you, and there it is again—his voice. His voice.

You breathe a sigh of relief, placing your hands onto his arms. His grip is there, it’s real. It’s real.

He hasn’t left you after all.

“It’s not your fault, beautiful.”

Your mouth twitches. In a span of two seconds, you go from a grotesque frown to cracking the slightest smile.

“Y-You forgive me? You’ll forgive me?”

“Of course I’ll forgive you,” the voice murmurs.

You slump in his embrace, rest your head on his shoulder. He always had the broadest shoulders. It was one of the reasons why you thought him to be so handsome. So strong.

And so you fall into his arms, half delirious. His face in your mind, his name—right on the very top of your dry, cracked, dirtied lips.

His beautiful name breathed out with the most beautiful sigh.

“Seokjin.”

//
 

A/N: Not gonna lie, I teared up while writing this. I'm sorry this took a little longer to get up and post--if you read The Academy, you'll know that I like to write chapters in advance so sometimes if the next chapter doesn't come to me as easily, I won't post the chapter before it, either. Hopefully that made sense. Regardless, I'm so exhausted. Have a wonderful weekend, guys! Thank you for reading, and let me know what you think! xoxo