The document in front of him is starting to look blurry. It swirls in his vision, sending him in a dizzying state as he try to make out the words printed on the document laid out in front of him.
It’s medical records, his medical records; he’s quite sure of it even through the haze of his eyes. Kim Namjoon, written on bold, capital letters at the top of the document. His doctor, beautiful and kind Doctor Kim, probably left it by accident.
He takes it from the table with shaking hands and laughs, a muffled little laugh, because why is he shaking? It’s unlike him to shake. Shaking means instability and instability means weakness. If there is something Kim Namjoon is not, that is most definitely not weak.
Namjoon crumples the paper and throws it on the opposite end of the room before he can even stop himself, the paper falling precariously against the granite floor. He heaves, breathing heavy and heartbeat erratic.
He was just fine one second ago and now he feels nothing, but anger bubbling up inside him. He takes a breather and feel the skin on his eyes vibrate as he tries to stop himself from rolling his eyes. His tongue pokes on the inside of his cheeks before it clicks against his teeth and he’s back to being calm.
Namjoon gazes at the sky blue bedsheet and its small white dot patterns and forces himself to focus on it and nothing but it. Doctor Kim picked it out for him. He thought of Namjoon while he was doing personal errands.
“It looks nice, yes? I remembered you while I was out shopping for some new frying pans,” Doctor Kim giggles to himself as his fingers idly rub against the soft fabric. He moves on to another boring story about one of his shopping endeavors, but Namjoon channels him out. He’s still stuck with the reality that Doctor Kim Seokjin thought of him beyond their working relationship. Seokjin thought of him.
A bird could be seen outside his room, it’s gray feathers and blue eyes striking despite the dull blue and gray of the sky outside. The rain continues to pitter patter against Namjoon’s glass windows, but the bird is a welcome guest. A snicker decorates itself on his face as slowly makes his way to the window. The bird is still there and the rain is still falling.
Namjoon pulls the window pane upward and deftly grips the bird by the neck, choking it before it can even defend itself. Blood squirts out of the bird’s mouth and lands on Namjoon’s hand which he nonchalantly wipes on his white hospital gown, uncaring of the stain in between the leather belts that line up in the middle of his outfit.
“Pretty,” Namjoon whispers. The dead bird lies imply by the window and Namjoon thinks it looks absolutely stunning like that. He pets it one last time before laying on the bed, the adrenaline of the kill pumping his system.
It’s been so long since his last kill, but he can still remember it clearly. The way the blood oozed out of the man’s throat the moment his knife dig deep enough. The horrified expression on the man’s face as it dawned on him that Namjoon just made him more beautiful than he already is. His screams, oh god, his screams were melody on Namjoon’s ears.
Heels clicking against granite flooring takes Namjoon’s attention away from his memories. It gets louder as it gets closer to Namjoon’s room. Namjoon gets up from the bed and tries to see who it is from the small opening of his door. The bars on the window limit his view, but it’s fine, he can at least see the owner of the shoes.
The woman’s beautiful. Long, straight hair that are neatly tied on a ponytail and baby pink nurse uniform still crisp and pristine, as if it’s the first time they’ve worn them. A metal clip binder is safely tucked in between her arms and chest as she walks along with the familiar male nurse with his familiar stun gun.
Namjoon clicks his tongue.
A pretty woman like her deserves a far better bodyguard than that weakling.
Your turn, chuyeol!