And the moment I notice, the soldiers notice too.

"Ah— told you he was here." One of them laughs, and I stare at their backs in horror as he bends down, fingers tightening around Jungkook's collar.

He's unconscious. I see blood, streaks of scarlet dried on the side of his pale cheek. His dark hair, soaked with red and snow, falls over his closed eyes. His figure stays slack even in the soldier's grip.

My heart twists.

He looks dead. He really looks dead.

But then the soldier presses his fingers harshly into the hollow of his bruised, snow-dusted throat, and I whisper out a stuttered breath of relief as he sniffs scornfully.

"Still alive, this crazy motherfucker."

"Just finish him off." The other one yawns, and I slowly wrap my fingers around a smaller rock next to me. His gaze is disinterested and annoyed.

"I told you, it's damn cold and I'm hungry."

"Fine," He groans, and I see him reach for his pistol. My heart is crashing in my chest now as I slowly measure the situation.

But I don't have time.

The one with the gun first.

And then figure it out from there.

I hurl the rock just as he aims the gun at Jungkook's chest. It whips through the air, hitting with a heavy, bone-shattering sound, and I instantly duck behind a tree close to me as gunshots erupt in the air.

"Who's there?!"

That one guy is down for sure. I'd heard the sound— there was no way he was standing right now. Even if I couldn't look.

But I couldn't drag this. Who knew he might just kill Jungkook first or take him hostage? There was literally nothing I could do.

So I take a deep breath.

And I dart out from behind the tree, trying not to scream as I run in a zigzag pattern to the nearest rock. Bullets splatter the dirt around my feet, and I hear one whiz by inches from the curve of my ear.

I throw myself behind the rock, just as another round of bullets crash around where I am.

Then there's a sound of an empty magazine and a loud cursing echo through the forest.

I smile grimly.

He's out.

Idiot. He'd probably went through the entire magazine of his friend's gun as well from just how much he'd shot at me.

Grabbing another stone on the ground, I pop out from behind the rock and hurl it straight for his forehead.

"Take this, you fucker!"

His eyes whip towards me. But then the excitement in my face drops as the stone sails past his head. I'd been a few inches off.

...oops.

But I'd done what I needed to do.

He looks mad.

"You bitch."

I run. And soon I hear him coming after me, but the only thought in my head is to get him as far away from Jungkook as possible. Better to make the soldier forget about him completely.

But I should've expected it.

The moment I break into a run, something hard slams into my calf. It makes my legs give out underneath me in an instant, and I cry out in surprise as I find myself down on the ground in a second.

My eyes widen as I turn back at the soldier.

He's tossing a small stone up in the air, before lazily catching it in his palm.

"Two can play that game, girl."

Shit.

And before I can even get up, he's on me.

His hands grasp for my throat. And I barely jerk out of his grip before it tightens, stumbling backwards as I aim a punch for his jaw.

It lands.

But maybe I shouldn't have cheated my way out of those hundred push-ups when Jungkook had told me to do them.

His jaw is like a fucking rock.

And I yelp as he pins me down to the floor, his hands finding their way back to my throat. I scream, struggling and kicking as hard as I can.

But it's pointless.

He has over sixty pounds on me.

"Stupid girl," He hisses, and I cough out muffled noises as his fingers press harder, a steel cage tightening around my neck. My head grows light— and I can't breathe. I can't breathe at all.

He bends. And I feel the sickly heat of his breath against my ear as he whispers.

"Shouldn't have come here in the first place, hm?"

"Stupid girl."

Then I see a shadow behind him.

The fingers around my neck loosen. And I turn over, wheezing for air as my body curls into itself. My head is spinning— completely disoriented as my wheezes turn to coughs. I'd never felt so close to death.

My eyes flicker upwards.

Jungkook.

It's Jungkook.

He's standing, but barely. His eyes are fixed on mine, skin so pale that he could blend with the snow on the ground. Dried blood rivulet down the side of his face. His gaze wavers in and out of focus.

His voice, a remnant of an echo.

"...Rin."

Time seems to stop.

But then the soldier gets back up on his feet. He laughs darkly, slamming his fist into his open palm as he approaches Jungkook with fast, brisk steps.

"Jeon Jungkook."

"Even I could beat the shit out of you right now."

Jungkook's stare fixes down on my exposed collar before leaving me. And when he turns his gaze towards the soldier, the dark in his eyes has chilled to murder. Even underneath all the blood.

"Did you do that to her?"

The soldier smirks. Then he lunges, and my heart feels frozen in my chest as he swings a heavy arm towards Jungkook's head.

He's going to get hit.

But I've underestimated him.

With a hiss, Jungkook brushes off the blow. In a blink of an eye he's ducked underneath the second swing.

He drives his fist straight into his pressure point.

And as I watch with my mouth open, I wonder why I'd even worried in the first place.

The soldier won't— can't do anything. Even I can tell, that he can only try and defend himself. He's no match for Jungkook at all.

There's a different light in his eyes, when he fights. Like a shadow has drawn over him, and he doesn't feel pain in the slightest. As if he already knows every move the stupid soldier will make.

My head slowly hangs forward.

Why.

Why couldn't I be more like him?

My fingertips grapple against each other.

From the moment that man had had his hands on my neck, I'd known. That I could never beat him in a fight, never. That it would be impossible no matter how much I worked.

The difference had been a gaping chasm.

And yet, Jungkook is taking him down so easily when he's this hurt.

Tears prick at the corners of my eyes.

All I can do is run.

"Rin?"

I hear a weak, unsteady voice. Jungkook lowers himself in front of me, and I can hear his rapid breaths as he lifts my face. The soldier lies motionless behind him.

Dammit.

I avoid his eyes, knowing that my own are probably glistening with tears right now.

"Does it hurt?" He whispers, when he must be hurting so, so much more than me. His fingers brush over the tender skin of my throat, grazing over the parts that stings that most. "Your neck, Rin. I'm so sorry. I—"

He's swaying.

And I already kind of expect it when he collapses forward, with an agonized noise deep from his throat. His weight nearly knocks me back, but I latch onto him hard enough to stay upright.

"You're an idiot," I whisper. "For fighting. Your head probably hurts like hell right now, doesn't it?"

He makes a sound, half-amused and half in pain. He's so broad that his figure nearly swallows mine up in an embrace, and my ears flush a low pink when he presses both palms against my back, squeezing tight.

"What...else could I have done?"

His cheek brushes against mine. The snow-soaked strands of his hair prickles against the line of my jaw.

"You would've died. Look...at the bruises on your neck, Rin."

"I can't see my own neck." I grumble. "And it doesn't even hurt anyways. Can we go back to the hospital now so I can register a new patient?"

He laughs dizzily.

"I'll be fine."

I fix a blank look at him.

...fine? Is something actually wrong with him?

"Do you want me to kill you?"

"Rin."

"What—"

He grips onto me tighter, and I feel his fingertips now against the back of my head. His eyes are slightly unfocused, his gaze roaming across my face.

And I can only think of how good he looks, this up close. Even if there are shadows under the dark lines of his eyes— and rivulets of dried blood down the side of his pale cheek. I'm so close I can see the mole on the corner of his lips.

A weak smile splits those lips.

He knows, that I'm looking at him the way I do now.

Dammit.

This is on him. Not me.

He's the one who hugged me first, right?

My hand wraps around the curve of his shoulder as I kiss him. As if he'd been waiting for me to do just that, his lips find mine. His hands shift down from my hair to my waist, about to slip underneath my shirt when he pauses.

His eyes flicker.

"How old are you, Rin?"

"Eighteen."

"Good," He whispers, a pleased look on his face.

"Good."

He pulls me back into a kiss.