oNcE a wEeK sHe sAiD

it's been three weeks and i could kms

i make you guys wait so long :((( i feel so bad

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Your heart seems to float in your chest as a weak grin spreads across your lips. Scuffling to the side,you try your best to gain as much area with your legs as you can, to try and pull the keys towards yourself.

The binds pull hard at your wrists, and when you feel the unnaturally hard feeling to them, you curse yourself for not realising that they were actually handcuffs.

A groan of impatience escapes you as you stretch your legs again, this time managing to touch the tips of the keys with your toes. Almost, but not quite, and you could kill Baekhyun for dropping them so far away.

But you gotta get your hands free first.

This time, you manage to press one of the metal pieces and almost squeal in excitement as you slide them slowly towards yourself, the roughness of the floor making the job even harder for you. You almost cry with joy as they finally reach you, but then you realise you have more work to do.

You somehow manage to push the keys to where your hands are, and try to grab them, and are awarded with slow success.

The movies make it look easy.

Your misguided hands struggle to insert the tip of the key into the keyhole, but are very unsuccessful as you squeak when it touches your butthole. A bright blush spreads across your features even in a dark cell as you then try again.

It takes a long, long time.

After what seems like hours, you finally manage to unlock your hands, and rub your wrists which sting from the bite of the rusted metal. They look reddened, but you have to get home to Yoongi first, so you ignore the pain.

Next step: get out of the cell unnoticed.

It proves to be a lot easier than you would have thought, since it seems that every single one of the man's gang members has gone out on a lunch break, or just simply never expect you to break out of the cell yourself. It's not hard to even consider the second option, you think bitterly, as they had so conveniently left the door open.

You bite your lip, not sure where you're going, but as you let your eyes adjust to the darkness, the lights and tall ceiling tell you it's a warehouse.

Where were they even keeping me?

But you shrug it off, deciding that your priority at the moment is getting the heck out of there, not analysing the architecture of the place. So you gather up your courage, and your breath, and make your way down the dimly lit place, emerging behind a stack of crates, the contents of which you can only guess.

Your footsteps tend to become even louder, for some reason, when you're trying to keep them quiet, but you have to hurry - so every step seems like a gunshot, making you wince as if you're the one getting shot every second.

Thankfully, no one notices.

In your excitement, you almost walk into a group smoking, and yelp in shock before slapping a hand over your mouth. The workers seem not to notice, though, their full concentration on whatever joke one of them has made as they laugh, in the loud and obnoxious way gang members sometimes do, and some of them almost choke on the excessive amount of smoke in the air.

You hide behind one of the big crates and try unsuccessfully to blend in with the shadows - barely being able to squeeze in your body between the two. Why me?

"And so I told him, I'll make so many holes in your body you won't know where to breathe in from and where to fart from." One of them, with a husky, rough voice, chuckles loudly and you almost choke.

"Good one, mate," Says the one with the lowkey Australian accent.

"For god's sake, stop blowing smoke into my damn nostrils," One of them, who's voice seems identical to the man whom you heard in the cell, says irritably.

"Isn't that a dialogue from that one movie, though?" Another, with a slightly heavy, confused voice asks.

"Seriously, Jongdae," The one with the irritable tone replies. "Stop reading to much into shit and let him have his moment of fame."

"Shut up."

You almost laugh at how comfortable the four seem with each other, but remember not too soon what position you're supposed to be in. Releasing a heavy, soundless sigh, you shimmy sideways in an attempt to get away from them and make your way down the side.

The rough walls' friction pull at your clothes, and you wince every time your wrists come in contact with it.

Then you see it.

A big, open courtyard-slash-field-slash-whatever you're supposed to call it. A huge grin spreads across your features as you take in the dark blue, late evening sky above and a thin strip of tress lining the border behind the spiked walls, protecting the place from the outside world.

So this is what it's supposed to look like.

What you don't like so much about the scene are the multiple guards posted around. They're everywhere - like ants, except with guns and ammunition and menacing faces.

There's one other thing blocking you from freedom.

Guess.

A certain black-haired male with millions of piercings and intimidating emerald eyes.

Baekhyun.

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NIGHTS countdown: 12 days