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Kook's body, streaming with red, started to twitch, jerking around in Rosé's arms like he was being electrocuted. All the while, his face was blank— unconscious. It was the wild thrashing from inside the center of his body that moved him. As he convulsed, sharp snaps and cracks kept time with the spasms.
Rosé and Taehyung were frozen for the shortest half second, and then they broke. Rosé whipped Kook's body into her arms, and, shouting so fast it was hard to separate the individual words, she and Taehyung shot up the staircase to the second floor.
I sprinted after them.
"Morphine!" Taehyung yelled at Rosé.
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"Jimin—get Joon on the phone!" Rosé screeched.
The room I followed them to looked like an emergency ward set up in the middle of a library. The lights were brilliant and white. Kook was on a table under the glare, skin ghostly in the spotlight. His body flopped, a fish on the sand. Rosé pinned Kook down, yanking and ripping his clothes out of the way, while Taehyung stabbed a syringe into his arm.
How many times had I imagined him naked? Now I couldn't look. I was afraid to have these memories in my head.
"What's happening, Taehyung?"
"He's suffocating!"
"The placenta must have detached!"
Somewhere in this, Kook came around. He responded to their words with a shriek that clawed at my eardrums.
"Get him OUT!" he screamed. "He can't BREATHE! Do it NOW!"
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