Paperworks.

A whole stack of them organized neatly on the desk, below the desk, behind the desk, and of course one is in use. The ball pen in hand dragged smoothly forming words in black ink. Jimin showed no sign of weariness, in fact his face was serene as he fill out the papers professionally. The pitch-black room was only dimly-lit by a study lamp which played its role as the only light source. A single beep on his watch interrupted him.

 

 

 

Another death of a mortal soul needed to be harvest.

Slinging on his coal-black coat and chimney top hat, he disappeared within the smokes of dark clouds to the required destination.

 

 

 

He winced slightly at the gruesome scene right before his eyes. Glancing briefly at the death card, only then did he found out the brutally stabbed victim was a young female in her early adulthood. Her body limped backwards awkwardly in the pool of blood, white blouse soaked in crimson red, hair disheveled probably prompted by her previous struggling with the murderer. 'Dying in this cold alley could've been avoided. Tsk tsk' Jimin thought while shaking his head lightly.

 

 

He made his way to the lifeless body and squatted down. Just as he was about to harvest the soul, the female's voice was heard, 

 

 

"Please. . . P-Please. . ." she pleaded hoarsely. Jimin's lips pursed into a thin line at the interruption as he stared at her pale chapped lips. He never liked it when souls begged for their life, it'd make him feel remorseful for taking them away, and by feeling so it'd be against his work principles. Grim Reapers should only take lives and not gift lives. Why feel sympathetic towards a mere human? There are billions of them roaming around the world, a death of a particular one should make no difference... shouldn't it? He began to question himself.

 

 

 

Jimin's eyes were closed as he had an inner-self debate. Fingers were dancing on their own accord in which only happens when he is deep in thoughts. Then,

 

 

"Tell you what, human. I shall give you another chance to relive yout life," a smile crept upon his face as his heart swelled for being this ridiculously generous , 'just this once,' he thought.

 

 

Jimin's hand loomed over the young female's eyes which caused them to pry open as they bore into Jimin's palm. In a spilt of second, darkness devoured the girl's sight.

 

 

 

 

"y/n. . . Hey sleepy head, wake up," you stirred uncomfortably.

"y/n, wake the up!" That did the trick as you shot straight up, eyes wide open, bones cracking  and ears suddenly filled with ear pounding music. Panicking, you scanned your surroundings frantically. Drinks which seemed like alcoholic baverage on the round table, you're in a booth of what seems like a night club considering the massive amount of people on the dance floor, and of course the eye-blinding lights flashing wildly.

 

"Hey calm down, did Hoseok put something in your drink?" Right, calm down. . . You remembered how to breathe again. Inhaling deeply only caused you to cough as the stale air in the confined space was heavily suffocating. You peered at the origin of the voice ringing from your left. Cigarette in one hand as the other wrapped around the waist of a lady in revealing clothing. 

 

Such a cute blond. He had smokey eye makeup which looked skillfully applied. An expensive looking denim jacket hugged his small build. The lady clinging desperately in his embrace, face masked with heavy make ups, those lipsticks don't go well with those eye shadows tsk. Your gaze went back to the man and met his which lasted for a few seconds too long for your liking. A sudden hand flunged over your shoulder made you flinched, hard.

 

"Oof Jungkook, chill~~ Its your hope, hobie hobie~~" a slurred voice of a drunken man cooed your right ear which tingled you. And what the actual. . .  Did he just called you Jungkook? Who are these people even?

 

"My name is not Jungkook, mister Hope," you confidently corrected the drunken man while trying to push him away from your personal space.

 

"Yoongi, did maknae here took some of those~~" 

 

"Most probably," the blond replied unfazed and returned his attention to the lady again.

 

Mister Hope laughed hysterically at the respond and pulled you into a hug, the hug loosens much to your relieve but he pinched your aggressively before leaving the seat. Your eyes bulged wide open in total shock, mouth hanging open but no words were formed. Your arms covered your chest in natural instinct. How could've he molested a woman.

 

Eyes burning with tears, you head to the restroom with help of directions from the people in the night club. 

 

 

"Holy guacamole," you muttered under your breathe. In the mirror, is a reflection of a young man.

 

 

 

 

Your head was spinning with thoughts as you hugged Yoongi's torso for dear life as he sped up on the freeway. Head buried against his solid back to calm down your building anxiety. You had no memory on whatever happened before waking up as this Jungkook guy but you're absolutely sure you don't know these people either way. This was confusing and when the boys were leaving earlier, you made a choice to follow Yoongi back as he looked way sober than that Mister Hope. He looked annoyed as heck when the lady he was with earlier couldn't ride home with him but you couldn't care less.

 

 

You hadn't realize Yoongi's jacket was soaked in your tears, not until he was glaring at you from across the clean elevator with his jacket in hand. His other hand flexing as he supported himself against the railing. He wore such a deadly expression despite looking cute and being caring towards this guy named Jungkook. He didn't question why you cried and you were grateful for that. Though he was awfully quiet the whole time. Your sniffs were the only audible sounds to the ears.

 

 

 

Tailing Yoongi from behind, you couldn't help but notice the height difference between the two male. 

 

 

The two male. Right, you've somehow switched bodies with someone. You couldn't remember what exactly happened but you're certainly sure your name was. . . shanks the memory loss is severe. Well at least you remembered you were a female. Entering the apartment unlocked by a passcode, you decided to keep the story to youself to avoid unneccessary wastage of story telling.

 

 

 

Eyeing the small apartment which seemed cozy and safe, you headed to the leather sofa only to be drifting to slumber land considering how tired it was to have trains of thoughts running in your mind the whole evening.

 

 

 

 

It was dark. Its pitch-black, where are you? You could sense a presence approaching you as the sounds of footsteps increased,

 

"Y/n, I screwed up. This means more paperworks. And I need to fix you,"