Heal me // A Jikook Trilogy //

《9》All Good Things

It felt like a trap.

I knew life couldn't be this good. There was always a deceit behind every good occurrence.
And yet...

Safe for the nightmares haunting me, the sound of DK's begging, the feeling of bones cracking under my fist, the horrible image of the twitching, bloodied boy on my feet that had me waking in sweat coating my skin and a silent scream on my lips, things had turned out better than I could have hoped for.

Suho had practically beamed at me before pulling me close for a hug, ruffling my hair as he told me how proud he was.
That he'd never doubted me.
That he got the news Minghao and Jun had departed Beijing just a day after I paid DK a visit at his flat.

Suho had thrown a party in my name the next day.
Just for me!

Shit... even Sehun had patted me on the shoulder and stopped ordering me around so much.
The resentment in Kai's eyes flickered with respect every now and then while Baekhyun and Chanyeol had lifted me onto their shoulders and carried me through the dancing crowd of my party, everyone hooting and shouting my name with raised glasses.

I finally felt like I was part of them.
Like they respected me.

And then there was Jimin.

We met like we said we would.

Once or twice a week, I found myself up on the roof, sitting and waiting until I heard the door open and Jimin sat next to me.

It had been awkward and hard at first- to just talk about normal things.
About my life.
About what I liked and disliked.
But Jimin had never pushed, never demanded an answer I wasn't willing to give.
With endless patience, he had sat next to me and waited until I felt comfortable enough.

He'd done the most talking at first.

He told me more about his childhood.
How there had been some good things too.
Like the time he and his sister had stolen some candy and then got chased by a red-face older man with a cane, laughing and speeding through the streets, knowing the man could never catch up with them.

Or when his sister had tried to cook him a three course meal for his birthday and it ended up with the kitchen on fire and Jimin's eyebrows nearly getting singed off.

And I... I'd been unable to look away from the shimmer in his eyes.
The sparkling happiness as he thought back to those moments, always followed by the dark flicker of pain once he finished a story.

He didn't hide it though.
Told me about how he still woke up in the middle of the night, calling out for his older sister who would never be there again.
Spoke quietly of how he still looked over his shoulders and expected his father to be there, coming back for him, then admitted he sometimes wished he would, only to prove he hadn't only been a pawn in his father's plans.
Not loved, only used.

But our conversations weren't always so deep.
Sometimes he just talked about what movies he liked, or what music he listened to these days. How he loved animals and dancing and following the latest fashion.
How he wasn't a big fan of reading, but often listened to podcasts.
He enjoyed video games but wasn't crazy about them.
He liked to drink and smoke and have fun with the guys.

Yes...
Those were the moments I sat and gaped in disbelieve.
When he told me about BTS.

Namjoon, who had found him after he ran away from Busan- from the pain of loosing his sister and what he had done.
Namjoon, who had taken him in, given him a home, support, understanding.
Had helped him back up to his feet and gifted him with a true family.