Fics like we were always the sea

Namjoon doesn't look away when he asks quietly, “Jin, will his blood save Jimin?” The fear jolting through Jungkook's limbs intensifies, and Jin doesn't look away from Jimin’s grey face as he takes a short breath. “It… maybe. But… Jungkook might... not make it.” Everything is greying, wavering, and there's a faint ringing in his ears as he holds out a shaking arm in front of him, fingers trembling from the frigid cold or the paralyzing fear. Namjoon’s voice is steady when he speaks. “Jungkook, we don’t want to hurt you-” “Then don’t, please, please don’t hurt me!” Jungkook cries. “Please, they - they hurt me so much already, please.” He yanks at the torn shirt, pulls it open desperately, hears their sharp intakes of breath at the ragged bites on his neck, his deeply bruised arms and shoulders, the scabbing flesh over his ribs. Hoseok shudders and closes his eyes. There's no change in Namjoon’s expression, but Taehyung’s eyes are wide where he still kneels beside Jimin's unconscious form, and Jin looks devastated. Jungkook's heart thunders, and as he whispers, his voice breaks again. “Please, p-please, please.”

Fics like we were always the sea

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