Forget Me Not

Chapter Nineteen

Yoongi woke up in a bed,- an actual bed. Where there were firm walls behind him, and a small body clung to him. Jimin. Who slept with a white comforter pulled over him, and yellow blanket draped across his middle. His chick sat in a stack of many other stuffed creatures surrounding his side of the bed, and sunlight streaming in through a window.

He was in a house now, and someone had whipped the dirt off of his face and his arms. His breath had a permanent freshness to it thanks to some spell he had discovered three years ago. This room he was in was rather cluttered, he noticed. Sitting up, his limbs felt heavy,- but there were plants hung on window seals and bookshelves. Small pots on a desk and in corners, even Jimin's laptop had plant stickers covering it. Books were stacked everywhere, as well as CD's and Records, an old boxy TV in the corner. Posters from bands Yoongi had never heard of lining the walls.

This had to be Jimin's room. 

He must be at the Parks, which seemed insane as the last thing he remembered was being in the forest,- in jeans and a hoodie, not sweats and a ducky mo-mo Tee. Which he was one hundred percent sure wasn't his. He could only pray Jin had been the one to change him.

He rose, blood rushing to his head as he stumbled out of the door, unsure of the time, and into unfamiliar hallway. He grabbed at the wall, walking carefully down the picture covered hall and into a rather cozy living room. There less plants in here at least, but the slide door to the back yard was open. A feature that didn't really fit with the rest of the home, he noted, just as a woman walked back inside.

"Oh, you finally woke up," She smiled, a smile very similar to Jimin's. Their eyes creased the same way. She looked too young to be his mother, but too old to be a sister. "Your friends are fine, by the way, My husband stopped by as soon as he got a call. But are you feeling alright?"

"Oh um,-" This must be Jimin's mother then,- a rather pretty middle aged women, a yellow sweater and some high waisted jeans that Yoongi's sure he'd seen his own mother wear once, "Yes,- how long was I out? I think I passed out from exhaustion."

"I don't know quite when you passed out, but you were out when you got here at ten yesterday morning," she paused in thought for a moment, but kept moving to go into the kitchen and into the fridge. "So,- twenty? Twenty one hours? You're up quite early, to say the least," she laughed, pulling out a pitcher of what looked like lemonade from the mint fridge. How old was this family's appliances? "It's almost eight now, I was just about to go out to the garden before my husband goes to work." she smiled a little, opening a cabinet to reveal mismatched glasses. Some were red glass, others old china, but she just pulled out two plain clear cups, setting them down on the counter next to the pitcher before moving back to the fridge, this time opening the freezer. "Lemonade,- no-, you want lemonade," she decided, pulling an ice tray out.

"I want lemonade?" He blinked rather confused,- the natural sunlight beaming in made his morning self feel rather ill. Mrs. Park was much taller than Jimin, but her build itself was less broad. A man appeared from behind Yoongi,- fully dressed for work, and approached a coffee pot.

"Morning, Chérie." he nodded, opening another cabinet full of a mismatched array of ceramic mugs and grabbing a plain white one from beside one that resembled a cactus with Jimin's name etched into the side. Cute.

"Good morning, love," she smiled back, breaking up the ice in the tray before knocking some into the two glasses. "Coffee just finished a few minutes ago," she nodded to the old fashioned coffee pot on the stove as she poured the lemonade over the glasses. "Here you are, dear, do either of you want breakfast before I get to gardening again?"