Faded Memories|| PJMxKTH ||BTS Fanfiction

PART 17

[Flashback continues]

Taehyung lives a few blocks away from us.Being one of the most famous architects in seoul ,his house is beautiful, sprawling, manicured and expensive.He parks the car in the garage.I don't wait for him to help me out of the car.I open the door and get out on my own.But as soon as I step out of the car,I stumble.

He immediately comes to my side.
"Careful,you still have stitches on you." He gently puts his hands on shoulder and guides me to the door.He punches in a code on an alarm and then flips on a few lights.

He moves to his refrigerator and pulls out a bottle of water, walking it over to me. He takes the lid off and hands it to me. I take a drink and watch as he turns the living room light on, then the hallway.

He walks back into the kitchen.“Are you hungry?”
I shake my head. Even if I was, I wouldn’t be able to eat.

“I’ll show you your room,” he says.“There’s a shower if you need it.”

I follow him down the hallway and to a spare bedroom where he flips on the light.I have been to this room a lot of times.I remember one time he had a party here in his house and Jimin got so drunk that he couldn't even stand up properly,so we both slept in this room that day.

Life is so unpredictable sometimes.

 He walks to a dresser and pulls open a drawer. “I’ll make the bed for you.” He takes out sheets and a pillowcase. He begins making the bed as I walk inside the bathroom and close the door.

I remain in the bathroom for thirty minutes. Some of those minutes are spent staring at my reflection in the mirror. Some of those minutes are spent in the shower. The rest are spent over the toilet as I make myself sick with thoughts of the last several hours.

I’m wrapped in a towel when I crack the bathroom door. Taehyung is no longer in the bedroom, but there are clothes folded on the freshly made bed. Men’s pajama bottoms that are too big for me and a T-shirt that goes past my knees. I pull the drawstring tight, tie it, and then crawl into bed. I turn the lamp off 
and pull the covers up and over me.

I cry so hard, I don’t even make a noise.
____________________________________
I smell toast.
I stretch out on my bed and smile, because Jimin knows pancakes are my favorite.

My eyes flick open and the clarity smashes down on me with the force of a head-on collision. I squeeze my eyes shut when I realize where I am and why I’m here and that the pancakes I smell are not at all because my sweet and caring husband is making me breakfast in bed.

I immediately want to cry again, so I force myself off the bed. I am still struggling to walk and my injuries still hurt a lot but with a little support from the things around me,I walk to the bathroom.I focus on the hollowness in my stomach as I use the bathroom, and tell myself I can cry after I eat something. I need to eat before I make myself sick again.

When I walk into the kitchen, Taehyung is moving back and forth between the fridge, the stove, and the counter. For the first time in twelve hours, I feel an inkling of something that isn’t agony, because I remember he’s a good cook.And he’s cooking me breakfast. Everytime we would come to his house,he would cook us something delicious.

He glances up at me as I make my way into the kitchen. “Morning,” he says, careful to say it without too much inflection. “I hope you’re hungry.” He slides a glass and a container of orange juice across the counter toward me, then he turns and faces the stove again.

“I am.”

He glances back over his shoulder and gives me a ghost of a smile. I pour myself a glass of orange juice and then walk to the table and take a seat.