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Moon's Point of View:

I heard some voices of men, some familiar, some unknown. I wanted to open my eyes, but my head felt so heavy, that even my eyelids seemed weighed down. My body felt heavy too, as if I was sinking into the soft mattress beneath me. The warmth of an arm around me was comforting, yet unnerving. I tried to open my eyes, my lips parting slightly, but my strength failed me.

I could feel the presence of someone close, their breath brushing against my skin. Everything felt hazy like I was drifting in and out of a dream. The voices around me seemed to blur together, and I struggled to make sense of them. One voice stood out, clearer than the others, as if it was calling to me from a distant place.

"She's waking up," a voice I recognized said softly, a mix of relief and something darker in his tone.

I tried to focus, but it felt like I was trapped in a fog. Slowly, the fog began to lift, and I saw Jungkook's face hovering over me. His eyes were filled with an intense emotion that I couldn't quite understand. He seemed both real and unreal, like a figure from a dream.

"Moon," he whispered, his voice both soothing and possessive.

I wanted to move, to speak, but my body wouldn't respond. I could only stare up at him, feeling a mix of fear and relief. His grip on me tightened slightly as if he could sense my emotions.

"my love" he murmured, his lips curling into a soft smile that didn't reach his eyes. Everything around me seemed to blur again, and I couldn't tell if I was awake or still dreaming. His words echoed in my mind as I felt myself slipping back into darkness.

I was running through a dark, foggy forest, branches clawing at my skin as I stumbled forward. I couldn't make out what I was running from, but the fear drove me on, my heart pounding in my chest. Pain seared through my side, and when I glanced down, I saw blood streaming from a deep wound, as if someone had stabbed me. Panic surged through me, and I turned to look behind.

The chef from Jungkook's penthouse was there, her face twisted into a malicious grin. She held a knife dripping with my blood. I screamed, my voice echoing through the trees, and pushed myself to run faster, my feet barely touching the ground. The voices from the night echoed around me, men shouting and running behind me. The forest was alive with the crack of gunshots, each one sending a jolt of terror through me. Everything seemed to move in slow motion as I glanced back again. The chef raised a gun, her eyes cold and calculating.

I felt a sharp pain in my leg and stumbled, my body hitting the ground hard. The world around me seemed to slow down, every sound amplified—the rustle of leaves, the pounding of my heart, the sinister laughter from behind. The forest seemed to close in on me, the shadows growing darker, more menacing. I tried to crawl forward, but my strength was fading, the blood pouring from my wounds leaving a trail behind me. The shouts grew louder, the footsteps closing in.

Suddenly, I was yanked off the ground, my scream silenced by the crushing grip on my throat. I struggled, my vision blurring as I was thrown down again. I heard the sickening thud of my body hitting the dirt. Pain radiated through me as strong hands grabbed my waist, pulling me back. I whimpered, the grip so firm it felt like it was crushing me.

The world around me seemed to shift, the forest melting away into a dark alley. The damp, narrow walls loomed above me, casting eerie shadows in the dim light. The chef's face loomed above me, her smile twisted and cruel. "You can't escape," she whispered, her voice dripping with malice. "He owns you now."

I felt a rush of adrenaline. The world around me seemed to slow down even more. I could see the gun barrel inching closer, hear the faint click as she cocked it. I tried to scream, but my voice was muted. My heart pounded louder, drowning out all other sounds.

Then, with a sudden burst of energy, I kicked her away and scrambled to my feet. The alley seemed to stretch endlessly, its walls closing in on me. Every step felt like running through quicksand, my legs heavy and slow. The voices of the men behind me grew louder, their footsteps like thunder in my ears. I could hear the gunshots again, each one making my heart skip a beat.

Suddenly, I tripped and fell, my hands scraping against the rough pavement. I felt hands grab me from behind, dragging me back. I struggled, kicking and screaming, but my voice was swallowed by the darkness around me. I was shoved down, my body hitting the ground with a jarring impact. The hands were back on my waist, pulling me up with an iron grip. I whimpered, the terror consuming me.

Then, I saw him. Jungkook stood at the end of the alley, bathed in a dim, eerie light. He was standing in a pool of blood, his expression emotionless, like a statue carved from ice. The sight sent a shiver down my spine.

For a moment, everything was silent. Then, suddenly, his arms wrapped around me, holding me tightly. I felt safe, protected in his embrace. But just as I began to calm down, a violent force ripped me away with a brutal thud.

I yelped in shock as I hit the ground hard, the impact stealing my breath. I looked up in terror to see Jungkook on the ground, the chef lunging at him with frenzied stabs. Blood pooled around him, staining the ground crimson. I screamed in horror, crawling desperately towards him, my voice raw with anguish.

"No!" I wailed, reaching out towards Jungkook, but a fierce tug yanked me back with brutal force. I cried out, fighting against the unseen grip that held me captive, my heart wrenching with helplessness.

I jolted upright, gasping for air. The room was bright, and the traditional Korean décor around me was familiar and safe. I was in a bed, breathing heavily, my body still trembling from the intensity of the dream. I felt someone seated close to me, and I flinched, turning quickly to see Jungkook.

My god, it was all a dream.

"Jungkook," I whimpered, looking at him. His face showed no emotions, just like in my unsettling dream moments ago. My body still shook with the residual fear, my words coming out choked and trembling. "Jungkook..."

I felt the pain from the dream lingering, but I pushed it aside and lunged towards him. My legs wrapped around his waist, my face buried into his neck, and my hands held onto him in a tight grip as tears streamed down my cheeks.

I... I..." I choked on my words again, overwhelmed by emotions and fear. "Jungkook..."

Pulling back slightly, I examined his face, searching desperately for any sign of injury. My hands trembled as I gently traced over his features, his chest, checking for wounds, for any trace of the nightmare that still gripped me. His skin was warm beneath my touch, reassuringly real after the haunting illusions of my dream.

"Are you okay?" I whispered, my voice barely audible, filled with worry and relief. The room around us felt hazy, as if I were still caught between the realms of dreams and reality.

Jungkook's eyes softened as he reached up to cup my face gently in his hands. But in an instant, his gaze darkened, his grip on me firming almost painfully.

"See, I should be the one asking you that," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "You didn't just run away. You jumped from a moving train, then out of your second-floor window. Do you have any idea how reckless that was?" His words were edged with anger, his jaw clenched tightly.