kay okay! BTS will finally have an Indian interview!! I am soooooo Happy. *wipes of the happy tears*, It will probably in this month!

2ndly HOW COULD THEY!!!!! JIMIN, JUNGKOOK AND THEN SUGA?! HOW CAN THEY COME LIVE ONE AFTER THE ANOTHER in the same day?! THIS IS SO MUCH OF INJUSTICE TO US ARMIES!!! I WANT REVENGE WITH A JAW DROPPING ALBUM IN 20TH NOV. !!

lol, enough of being dramatic.>)<. lets begin with the story. don't forget to leave a vote.

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Kasumi fired the gun. My body moved on instinct, without thinking. I threw myself between the bullet and Yoongi, feeling the sharp sting as it tore through my chest. The force of the shot pushed me back, and my breath hitched, pain radiating through my body like fire.

Another gunshot rang out almost immediately after. Hoseok had fired at Kasumi. The bullet hit her squarely in the forehead, right between her eyebrows. She collapsed, lifeless, the threat finally over.

Everything went still, as if time had frozen. There was no sound, no movement—just an eerie silence as if the world had come to a halt. Then, slowly, I felt my legs give way. I started to fall to the side, but before I could hit the ground, strong arms caught me. Yoongi. He sat down with me, gently lowering my body so my head rested in his lap.

The pain in my chest was unbearable, spreading like poison, and every breath felt like a battle. I couldn't even cry out—it hurt too much. My body felt numb, and my vision blurred, making it hard to focus on anything around me. I could hear voices, but they were distant, muffled, like they were coming from underwater.

Jimin and Taehyung rushed to my side, their faces wet with tears. Jimin's voice cracked as he called my name over and over, patting my cheeks in desperation, trying to keep me awake. Taehyung held him back, trying to calm him, but his own face was pale with fear and grief.

I struggled to breathe, each gasp feeling like I was drowning. I weakly grabbed Yoongi's shirt, clutching it as I fought for air. My hands trembled uncontrollably, but Yoongi didn't say a word. He just stared at me with wide, terrified eyes, his hands stained with my blood. He was frozen, unable to process what had just happened. A single tear escaped from his eye, sliding down his cheek and landing softly on my forehead.

Through the haze of pain, I smiled at him, trying to reassure him, even though I knew my time was running out. At least everyone was safe now. That was the only thought keeping me calm.

But my vision was fading fast. Black spots danced before my eyes, and the world around me grew dimmer with each passing second. The voices around me became fainter, almost inaudible, as if they were drifting further and further away. And then, everything went dark. A deep, eternal darkness, swallowing me whole, taking me away from the pain and into a void where nothing existed.

......................

I wandered aimlessly through the darkness, searching for a way out, but it felt endless, like a void with no beginning or end. I called out desperately—"Jimin! Mom! Dad! Yoongi!"—but my voice was swallowed by the emptiness, leaving me unheard and alone.

Then, a faint sound reached my ears. A sob. My heart clenched because I recognized the voice immediately—it was Yoongi.

"Yoongi!" I cried out, running blindly toward the sound. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't see him. All I had was his voice, breaking through the silence.

"Why did you come in between?" his voice cracked, filled with raw pain. "I was supposed to be in your place. I was meant to be shot, not you." He inhaled sharply, as if trying to control the tears but failing miserably. "I'm sorry... I'm so sorry I couldn't protect you. Please don't leave me. I can't see you like this—"

His voice faltered, and I could hear him struggle to hold back his sobs. Then, in a broken whisper, he said, "I love you, Jill. I really do love you. I regret all the times I was cold to you... every unanswered text, every missed call. I'm sorry... I swear I'll reply to all your messages from now on. I'll answer every call, I promise. Please, Jill, just do this one thing for me. Come back. Please come back to me. I... I can't live without you. Please..."

His voice trailed off, waiting—hoping—for a response. My heart shattered at his words, and I screamed with all my might, "I LOVE YOU TOO, YOONGI!" But my voice dissolved into the void, never reaching him.

I felt helpless, trapped, unable to bridge the distance between us. Then I heard the soft shuffle of his footsteps, moving away.

"No, don't leave me!" I cried, but the darkness swallowed my voice again, leaving me stranded. And just like that, Yoongi's presence drifted away, and I was left alone once more—lost in the endless void.

.............................

I felt a warm hand gently pressing against my forehead as my eyes fluttered open. The light above me was too bright, making me squint until my vision adjusted.

"She's waking up," I heard my mother's voice, trembling with emotion. Moments later, her face came into view—overflowing with relief, happiness, and tears.

"Eomma...?" I whispered weakly, my throat dry.

"Everything is okay now. You're safe, my child. Please don't try to talk," she murmured softly, running her fingers through my hair in a soothing rhythm.

I glanced around and realized I was in a hospital bed, a bandage wrapped tightly around my chest. A needle was inserted into my left wrist, attached to an IV drip. Soon, two familiar figures came into view—Jimin and my father.

"Thank God for bringing you back to us," Father whispered, wiping away tears that betrayed his usual stern demeanor. "Come, honey, we need to complete the formalities." He gave me a reassuring smile before leaving with my mother.

I was left alone with Jimin, and confusion clouded my mind. Why was I here? What had happened to me? "What's going on?" I asked, my voice hoarse.

Jimin's expression was hard to read. His eyes shimmered with emotions—sadness, anger, relief, regret, happiness, and more, all swirling together. He pulled a chair close and sat beside me, brushing his hand gently over my temple. "You were in a coma for seven days," he began quietly. "The bullet did serious damage to your heart. The doctor..." His voice faltered as his eyes welled with tears. "He said there was almost no chance of survival."

Suddenly, everything came rushing back—Kasumi, the gunshot, and the moment I stepped between Yoongi and the bullet. Anger simmered inside me at the memory.

"You're safe now," Jimin continued, his tone both firm and pleading. "Don't you dare scare me like that again."

"What happened to Kasumi?" I asked cautiously, sensing the tension in the air.

Jimin's jaw clenched, and his hands balled into fists. "She won't bother us ever again. Hoseok shot her. She died on the spot."

My heart sank at the news, the weight of it pressing down on me.

Jimin noticed my expression and frowned. "Why do you look like that?" he asked, a hint of frustration in his voice. "Don't tell me you feel sorry for her."

"No, I don't care about her," I replied honestly. "But I feel sorry for Yoongi. She was his sister. He must be hurting so much right now. He stood by me, and I should've been there for him, too. But instead..." I glanced around the hospital room, bitterness lacing my words. "Instead, I'm lying in this stupid bed and..."

Jimin's gaze softened, sensing the guilt weighing on me. "And?" he prompted gently.

"And... I feel sorry for you, too," I whispered, searching his face.

Jimin fell silent, looking away from me as if hiding the conflict brewing inside him. I knew that deep down, despite everything, he still had a soft spot for Kasumi. His love for her had been real, no matter how toxic the outcome.

"Oppa... are you okay?" I asked quietly, hoping he would open up.

He locked eyes with me for a moment, emotions flickering in his gaze. "I don't know," he admitted, his voice heavy with honesty. "A part of me is sad for her, but another part is relieved. After everything she did to you... it's unforgivable. She deserved what happened, but that doesn't make it any easier."

"It'll take time," I said gently, reaching out to squeeze his hand. "But try to move on. You'll get through this."

He nodded slowly, his expression distant, as if lost in thought. Then, leaning forward, he pressed a tender kiss to my forehead. "Rest," he whispered. "You need it."

With that, he stood and walked quietly out of the room, leaving me with my thoughts and the heavy silence that followed.

...............................

It was a bright morning, but the boredom of sitting in the hospital bed weighed heavily on me. I absentmindedly played with my hair, trying to pass the time, when the door creaked open. My gaze shifted toward it, curious to see who had entered—and I froze.

"Yoongi?"

He stepped inside, a gentle smile lighting up his face. His eyes sparkled with a warmth I hadn't seen before. There was something different about him today—something softer, calmer.

What he did next caught me even more off guard. He placed a bouquet of white roses—the same flowers I loved—into the empty vase beside my bed. I blinked in surprise, trying to make sense of his actions, but before I could ask anything, I found myself smiling back at him naturally.

"How are you feeling now?" he asked, his voice soft and tender, like a whisper carried on a breeze.

"Just a bit bored," I admitted with a small shrug. Then, pointing toward the balcony attached to my room, I added, "Do you think you could help me get over there?"

Without hesitation, he moved closer, gently supporting me as I tried to stand. My body was still weak, and I leaned against him for balance. But unlike before, he didn't seem awkward or uncomfortable in the slightest. His presence was steady and reassuring, and it made me feel happy—grateful, even—to have him by my side.

Once we reached the balcony, I leaned on the railing, breathing in the fresh autumn air. Below us, the green meadow shimmered under the warm sunlight, and the vast city stretched far into the distance. The breeze was light, teasing my skin as it swept past.

For a while, we stood in comfortable silence, soaking in the moment. Then a thought struck me, and I glanced at him. "Did you come to see me when I was unconscious?"

My question seemed to catch him off guard. He stiffened slightly but didn't turn to face me.

"Y-yeah," he admitted quietly, his voice barely audible over the rustling leaves. "Three days ago... Did Jimin hyung tell you?"

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