His leg was bouncing up and down repeatedly, his toes placed on the floor. He didn’t know if it was because of emotional stress or because he was doing it on purpose, but it felt good to keep moving. The energy was piling up inside of him, searching for a way out. But here he was, sitting on an uncomfortable plastic chair of a waiting room, his muscles already stiff. The smell of alcohol dissolver penetrated inside of his nose and made him feel dizzy. Nurses were chatting with each other and for them the world just went on, while it seemed like his was standing still. He didn’t know what he was going to do if he would never see you again. It was gnawing at him, those feelings of guilt and responsibility, the pain and the agony. It was as if his heart was shattered into a million little pieces and he knew there was no one but you who could put it back together. He would never forgive himself for what had happened. If he hadn’t gotten caught up in an environment like that, if he had kept an eye on you, if he’d only been faster to get to you. The images he had witnessed today would never leave him, they would follow him around in his nightmares forever. 

It still made him feel sick as he thought back of the blood on his hands, your blood. He’d washed it off but it seemed as if it was still there. He tasted bile on his tongue as he thought of how lifeless you had felt inside of his arms when he’d held you. He’d been sitting here for hours, unable to move as he waited for anyone to tell him what he was up against. Some guy in a fancy white coat had informed him that they were taking you into surgery, that they would try everything in their power to safe you. Yet it was so hard to cling onto that bit of hope, it was so hard to believe them. After seeing that bullet bore itself through your skin, the way you crashed down on the floor, your face grimaced in pain, it was as if the world was pulled from under his feet. If he had known back then that every minute with you was a gift, he would have cherished it much more. A steady hand pressed against his knee, forcing his leg to come to a halt. It pulled him out of his own thought and back to reality, one which was almost too hard for him to handle. 

“Stop torturing yourself like this.” Hoseok muttered, giving his friend a small squeeze before letting go. These guys were his family. He’d been part of this gang for so long he knew nothing but this. For the past few hours they hadn’t left his side and he appreciated everything they did for him, the worry and the support. But he couldn’t help but feel frustrated because of it all. It wasn’t their girlfriend on that table, it was all easier for them. So instead of saying anything he pressed his lips together into a straight line, hoping they would get the clue and they would leave him alone. “Maybe you should go home, take a shower?” Jimin tried, causing Jungkook’s nails to dig into his palms out of frustration. Couldn’t they see he wasn’t in need for a shower, he didn’t give a damn about his smell or his looks. There was no one who he should dress up for if you weren’t here. Jimin sighed, but accepted the fact he was being ignored. They’d all tried to console him, yet they all knew there was nothing they could say which would make him feel better. “None of this should have happened.” Yoongi said softly and everyone silently agreed. 

Jungkook pressed the palms of his hands against his eyes, as if that would suppress the scenes which were drifting in front of him. His friend was right, none of this should have happened and it was his ow  stupid fault that it had. He should have been honest with you from the very beginning, he should have insisted on how dangerous it was. Perhaps he should have scared you, maybe that had stopped you from following him. When he’d first realized you’d come after him, when that guy had come forward with his hand tight around your shoulder, he had been outraged. He was angry with you, thinking you were stupid because you’d put yourself through something like this. But when he thought back of it now, he knew he would have done the same thing. If it had been you in that situation he would’ve come straight after you. Maybe he should have tried to understand you, instead of always demanding you to stay put. “Minster Jeon?” He didn’t even react straight away, even the sound of his own name sounded strange. Taehyung placed a hand on his shoulder and shook him softly before they all looked up at the surgeon in front of them. He was wearing a strange looking cap on his head and his face mask was hanging from his neck, tied with a precise bow. He could feel his own heartbeat inside of his ears while his fingers squeezed the fabric of his sweater. He listened carefully, to every word being said and nodded, even though he didn’t understand half of what he was told. But eventually he let out a deep breath and everyone seemed to relax around him. And just like that, the world started turni