Instinct kicks in and I wrench my foot back, connecting with his leg.

He hisses in pain and loosens his grip slightly but it's enough. I twist round viciously and knee him in the stomach.

My first thought isn't even to run out the door, it's to run to the bathroom and lock that door.

Before I make it even a few steps, the man grabs my leg and sends me tumbling to the ground. I'm partially winded but I don't let that stop me from trying to scrabble to my feet. The man twists my shoulder round and draws his hand back.

Wham.

Now I'm winded beyond belief and all I can do is clutch my chest, gasping for breath.

He rams his fist into my eye and I cry out, automatically my head turns to the side to avoid further assaults from his wrist. He punches my jaw; my back arches in pain.

I try and gather my strength but the punch I throw is feeble and he dis-arms it easily. He rams his fist into my chest, winding me again for good measure, then stands up, bends over and drags me kicking and screaming by my feet into the bathroom.

He kneels on my chest while he ties my hands together, then my legs. I'm binded like a mummy. He pulls me up by my collar, right into his face. His eyes are small and mean, his teeth bared. Sweat pours down his podgy face. He eyes me like I'm a free dessert that's been placed on his table.

"Please," I beg and I hate it, "Why are you doing this?"

He looks into my eyes, full of tears and desperation.

As if in reply, he callously rips my blouse apart.

"I'll be back," He wheezes. His tongue darts out to moisture into the corner of his cracked lips, "I like to play with my food before I eat it."

He let's go of my collar and I collapse to the ground. He reaches down and drags a dirty finger down the side of my cheek, a beast claiming his prey.

I hiss away from him in disgust and the man laughs. He stands up straight and leaves the bathroom, shutting it behind him.

I stare at the door for a while. I don't know which feeling is more overwhelming: the pure raw fear or the crippling shock.

Calm down, I tell myself firmly. I'm not going to allow my hope and my resolve to just disappear. Even if tonight is my night to die, I won't be making it an easy task for him.

And with that vow, a sudden though pops into my head.

My phone.

My tied hands fumble at my pockets, clumsily eager now that there may be a chance of survival. Using only my finger tips, I manage to tug my phone out of my pocket where it clatters to the floor. I automatically hold my breath but the sound doesn't seem to have alerted the man.

I jab my finger on the green call button. Thankfully Jongin is the last person I spoke to.

Waiting for him to pick up makes me want to vomit. I'm willing for his phone to be within easy reach. I know that if he doesn't answer, my chances of survival will rapidly decrease.

And I never had many to begin with.

"Hello?"

I almost want to sob with relief at the sound of his voice,

"How comes you didn't reply to my text? I was a bit worried," He’s saying, "I'm 5 minutes away-"

"Jongin I need you to listen to me," It takes an enormous amount of effort to keep my voice calm and low. "There's a man in my apartment that has tied me up in my bathroom and plans to kill me. Any moment now he's going to catch me on the phone and take it away from me."

There is absolute silence on the phone.

"Are you serious? Are you kidding me right now? Please say you’re joking Ara.”

“No,” My voice comes out all chocked as if my throat is full of tears. “I’m not joking.”

 “.” Jongin's curse is low and full of the same kind of shock I'm feeling. When he continues his voice is jumpy as if he's picked up his pace, "Okay I'm running now, I'm coming Ara.  Don't worry I'm not going to let him touch you, he's not going to lay another ing finger on you."

"Please hurry Jongin.' A sob escapes my throat and I sniff hard in an effort to stay calm. My head is lying on the cold tiles and my eyes are squeezed shut.  I cradle the phone in my hands as best as I can. Any moment now I expect the bathroom door to fly open and the phone to be wrenched from my gasp. The thought makes me sob harder, "Please hurry Jongin, please God hurry."

And then my worst fears come true.

Rapid foot steps approach the bathroom. I feel my eyes widen and my breathing rate increases dramatically.

“What’s happening Ara,” Jongin’s voice is urgent on the phone, “What’s happening? Keep talking to me. Come on, concentrate on my voice, I won’t let you down.”

“He’s coming,” I try and force myself back as far from the bathroom door as I can and keep the phone in my hands. It’s my one link with Jongin, my one link to safety. All my hope is concentrated towards this machine.

“ where’s the light,” I hear Jongin swear. That means he’s just entered the block of apartments.

The bathroom door flies open so hard it rebounds off the wall. It’s not even the look on the man’s face that has me feeling like I’ve been drenched in cold water. It’s the steel knife in his hands, the edges freshly sharpened.

“Jongin!” My voice is hysterically high and rises decibel by decibel as the man advances. I’ve never felt fear like this before, never in my entire life; it’s white hot like the tip of the knife. “Jongin, he’s got a knife! He’s got a knife he’s going to kill me JONGIN! JONGIN HELP ME. HELP ME!”

I’ve lost all control and sense at the sight of the knife, I scream as if the sound itself will repel the man. He picks up the phone and whacks it at the wall where it smashes into pieces on the floor.

BANG.

My apartment door crashes open. Before the man even has time to turn around, Jongin’s there behind him. I’ve never seen a face so cold with fury before; Jongin’s eyes are blazing. He grabs the man by the shoulders and hurls him out the bathroom in one movement. The knife clatters to the floor. Jognin throws a punch right in the mans face, throws up his leg in a vicious kick. He dances around the man avoiding his hits before kneeing him in the stomach. He follows this up with a kick to the neck. In the state that Jongin’s in, the man doesn’t stand a chance.

“I don’t know what the possessed you to think you were allowed to mess with her.” Jongin snarls. He drags the stunned groaning man up by his collar. He rams his fist into his head, causing it to hit the door.

The man slides to the ground and even from my place in the bathroom I can see he’s been knocked the hell out. For good measure, Jongin stamps on the man’s knees and I shudder as the cracking sound resounds around the room.

Jongin turns immediately and comes towards the bathroom. He picks up the knife and swiftly breaks through the knots that hold my legs and hands together.

“Ara? Ara are you okay?” His eyes are wide as his hands cup my cheek, smoothing my hair away from my face. His eyes dart all over me, checking to see if I’m okay, and as the anger in his eyes dies, I can see the fear in them and I know he was scared. I know he was so scared.

“Thank God,” He says hoarsely.

And I fall into his arms, fall onto his chest, fall onto him, because he is Jongin and he is everything I need right now. His scent, his arms, his voice, his presence.

His hand presses my face firmly against his chest while I cry, great racking sobs that heave out of the depths of my chest. My arms hold him tight, feeling safe but needing to feel safer.

“Thank God you’re okay.”

My tears wet his t-shirt, patches of the dark fabric turn darker.

Like blood.

Jongin leads me into his apartment and turns on all the lights and the television to make the room bright and lively.

He sets me down on the coach and tries to leave to go to the kitchen but I don't let him.

"Don't leave me," I gasp, clinging on to his hands, his arms.

His eyes are dark with despair and worry as I bury my head in my hands and rock back and forth. I can't get the image of the man out of my face, his small quick eyes darting all over me as he reaches out a hand and grasps my shirt. Rip, and the buttons fall to the ground like the tears that fall down my cheeks.

Jongin bends down and scoops his hand underneath me to pick me up, holding me close to his chest. He walks with me in his arms to the kitchen and places me gently on the counter.

I watch him through swollen eyes as he makes two hot chocolates, scooping spoon fulls of sugar into the mug until the sandy grains look like a never ending waterfall.

He hasn't said one word since we entered his apartment.

I know Jongin won't be able to carry me and the mugs, so I get down from the counter and follow behind him into his bedroom.

I'm trying to keep my blouse together.

But it's hard when the buttons are scattered all over the bathroom floor.

He turns the light on and the television. The room is simple with a big double bed with fresh white sheets, an oak coloured chest of draws on which a flat screen TV rests. Jongin absently turns it on as he passes and sets down the mugs.

He opens the door to his closet and takes a white jumper off the hanger and then comes back to me.

He rolls the jumper up and places it carefully over my head, rolling the sleeves up my arms. His eyes narrow at the red finger marks on my arms and a tinge of red enters his cheeks.

I pull my arm out of his grasp and turn away, rolling the sleeves down. My hair covers my face but I glance at him out of the corner of my eyes. He's just standing there, looking at my arms.

His fingers clench and then unclench.

"Ara,"

It's the first word he's said.

I look up at him slowly through my hair. He reaches up and sweeps a lock of my hair to the other side, revealing my neck and the bruises that flourish there.

His eyes are piercingly haunted and he has to drag them away from my neck and up to my face, pausing, before being able to look me in the eyes.

He weaves an arm around my waist and pulls me hard against his body. One of his hands rubs down the length of my hair and the other stays hooked around my waist, leaving us close together.

I don't know which heart beat I can feel; mine or his.

"I'm sorry Ara," He says.

"What for?"

He pauses; hand continuing to smooth down my hair.

"For not getting there sooner."

I shake my head slightly;

"The important thing is that you got there at all. Don't apologise."

My nose rests against his shoulder. I'm going to remember the scent of him forever.

"I'm still sorry." He mumbles through the layers of my hair.

"Why?"

"For not being able to take away your pain right now."

I exhale deeply and press my face against his t-shirt. I focus on the rhythm of his hand as it my back. His cheek is warm and smooth as it rests on the side of my head.

I hook my arms round his neck and Jongin sighs, both his hands coming to rest around my waist. His arms clench slightly as if to remember that I’m still here.

"This is enough," I say.

------------

A/N: KYAAAAA I CAN'T BELIEVE MY FANFICTION HAS BEEN ADVERTISED!

It was such a lovely surprise when I woke up in the morning. My best friend, Dubulge used her karma to advertise my fanfiction. Like how bloody great is she! I think it's one of the nicest things anyone has done for me before -sniff I'm so thankful and happy that my story is becoming my popular, it means so much to me. I'm constantly thinking about the story, planning it, developing the characters, studying the way Kai behaves to make him seem realistic in my story. So for my fanfiction to gather so much love, it honestly makes me cry! I hope you guys appreciate and enjoy all the hard work I put into making this story enjoyable for you all! Thank you to all my subscribers who were here before my fan fiction got advertised, you guys motivated me to do my best! And hello to all the new subscribers, thank you for giiving my fanfiction a try and congratulating me, I hope I won't disappoint you! Thanks for the comments and upvotes, I'm honestly overwhelmed so I'm just gonna leave now before this turns into an oscar speech...

THANKS!