♡ Part ~ 8 ♡

The night air was thick with tension, the scent of gunpowder lingering as blood pooled on the cold ground. Jimin’s wide eyes fixated on the lifeless body in front of him, his breath coming out in short, panicked gasps.

He wanted to run. He needed to run. But his body wouldn’t move. Fear wrapped around his limbs like chains, keeping him frozen in place.

Then, he felt it.

A gaze.

Dark. Cold. Dangerous.

Slowly, his trembling eyes lifted to the man in black—the one holding the gun, the one who had just taken a life without hesitation. His heart slammed against his ribs as the man took a step toward him.

Jimin whimpered, his legs wobbling. He tried to take a step back, but his body refused to obey. The aura of the man was suffocating, overwhelming.

His breath hitched when the man finally stopped, just a few steps away. The stranger tilted his head, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“Look what we have here,” the man mused, voice low and raspy.

Jimin’s lips parted, but no sound came out.

He was so scared.

The man’s eyes roamed over him, taking in his delicate features—the soft brown hair, the big doe eyes shimmering with unshed tears, the way his red silk shirt hugged his petite frame.

A muscle in the man's jaw ticked as he murmured, “Fucking angelic.”

Before Jimin could react, a strong hand grabbed his wrist from behind and yanked him back. His breath stuttered as he collided against a firm chest.

“Ah—!” Jimin gasped, struggling instinctively, but the grip around his waist tightened.

A warm breath ghosted against his neck, making his body shiver violently.

Then, a whisper.

"Mine."

The single word sent a chill down Jimin’s spine, making him whimper softly. The voice was deep, possessive, laced with a dangerous edge that made his stomach churn.

The man—Suga—slowly turned Jimin around, his hands gripping his waist firmly. Jimin looked up, his heart pounding in terror.

“W-what do you w-want?” he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper.

Suga’s lips curled up in amusement as he tilted Jimin’s chin up with his index finger.

“Where do you think you were going, doll?” he asked, his tone mockingly soft.

Jimin’s lips trembled, tears threatening to spill. He was scared—so scared. His fingers curled into fists at his sides, trying to keep himself together.

"I-I was just…going home,” Jimin choked out, his voice breaking.

Suga chuckled darkly. “Home?” He leaned in slightly, making Jimin’s breath hitch. “Do you have any idea what’s going on here?”

Jimin shook his head quickly. “N-no.”

“Good,” Suga hummed, then turned to the side and motioned with his hand.

A second man approached, his grey hair catching the dim moonlight. He was tall, dressed in a black shirt tucked neatly into fitted pants, his sharp eyes scanning Jimin with curiosity.

Jimin swallowed nervously.

“What happened, Suga?” the man asked, his voice smooth but just as dangerous.

Suga smirked, then lazily pointed at Jimin. “I want this one.”

Jimin's breath caught.

"W-what?" His voice cracked, his whole body trembling.

Hoseok’s eyes flickered with mild surprise but nodded in understanding.

Jimin shook his head frantically, taking a step back. “N-no, please—please let me go!" His voice was desperate, shaking.

Suga’s expression darkened. In a flash, his hand shot out and grabbed Jimin’s wrist tightly.

“Let me go!” Jimin snapped, trying to yank his arm back.

Suga let out an amused hum. “Feisty.” He squeezed Jimin’s wrist just enough to make him wince. “But I don’t think you understand, baby.” His other hand came up to cradle Jimin’s face, his thumb swiping at a stray tear. “If I intended to let you go…” He leaned in closer, their faces inches apart. “…I wouldn’t be here now, would I?”

Jimin let out a small sob, his body trembling violently.

"Please," he whimpered, "please let me go."

Suga clicked his tongue, eyes darkening with something unreadable. “How can I leave a beautiful angel like you?”

Jimin gasped as he suddenly felt himself being pulled forward. His stomach dropped when he realized what was happening.

“No—wait!” Jimin thrashed desperately, but it was no use.

Hoseok grabbed his other arm, securing him as Suga made his way toward a sleek black car parked near the alley.

“No, please, please!” Jimin begged, struggling harder, but the grip on him was unyielding.

The back door of the car swung open.

Terror seized Jimin’s heart.

“No—don’t do this!” His voice cracked, tears streaming down his face.

Suga turned to him, gaze cold and unwavering. “Hoseok.”

Without another word, Jimin was shoved into the backseat.

He scrambled to sit up, his hands desperately reaching for the door handle. But before he could, the door slammed shut, trapping him inside.

His breath came out in harsh pants as he turned—only to find Suga sliding in beside him, shutting the other door with a soft click.

The air inside the car was suffocating.

Jimin pressed himself against the door, trying to put as much space as possible between them. His hands clenched into fists, his chest rising and falling erratically.

Suga turned his head to look at him, his gaze slow, deliberate.

“Scared?” he asked, voice low.

Jimin refused to answer, his lips trembling.

Suga chuckled, his fingers tapping lazily against the leather seat. “You’ll get used to me, sweetheart.”

The car started moving, the hum of the engine filling the silence.

Jimin’s stomach twisted painfully.

He had no idea where they were taking him.

But he knew one thing for certain—

He was trapped.

Jimin's breath came in short, panicked gasps as he pressed himself against the cold leather seat, his fingers trembling. His heart pounded violently in his chest, his mind racing for a way out. But before he could even think of another plea, another desperate attempt to escape—

Sharp pain.

A sudden sting in the side of his neck.

His body tensed, his lips parting in shock as his hand instinctively flew up to touch the spot. His fingers barely brushed against his skin before a slow, burning sensation spread through his veins.

"W-what…" His voice was weak, barely above a whisper. His vision blurred as the world around him started tilting.

Panic surged through him.

He tried to move, to push himself away, but his limbs felt heavy, unresponsive. His breathing grew sluggish, his eyelids drooping against his will.

"No… no…" he mumbled, his voice slurred as the overwhelming dizziness took over.

The last thing he saw before everything went dark was Suga’s piercing gaze—watching him intently, a smirk tugging at his lips.

Then—

Blackness.

Jimin’s body slumped against the seat, his breathing shallow as unconsciousness consumed him. His delicate frame lay motionless, his head tilted slightly to the side, exposing the soft curve of his neck where the needle had pricked him.

Suga watched him with sharp, unreadable eyes. He reached out, his fingers brushing against Jimin’s cheek, tracing the warmth of his skin. His smirk deepened as he leaned back against the seat, satisfied.

"That was easier than I thought," Hoseok muttered from the driver's seat, his gaze flickering to Jimin through the rearview mirror. "I thought he’d put up more of a fight."

Suga chuckled darkly. "He was too scared to do anything." His eyes trailed over Jimin’s peaceful face, his lips slightly parted, his chest rising and falling in soft, even breaths. He looked so… fragile. So breakable.

Hoseok hummed. "So, what now? You said you wanted him. You gonna keep him like a pet?" He smirked, amused.

Suga didn’t respond immediately. He turned his gaze toward the city lights flashing by outside the window, deep in thought.

"I’ll decide once we get there," he finally said.

Hoseok raised a brow. "And where exactly are we going?"

Suga's lips curled into a smirk as he glanced down at Jimin.

"The farmhouse."

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