misfits. → pjm | ✓

03.

chapter three: over it

"JUST STANDING THERE and staring into space doesn't answer my question, Nari." Mr Par- Jimin's voice breaks my thought chain.

I subconsciously pull the jacket closer to me.

"And why the hell have you still got that stupid jacket on? Take it off."

"Don't tell me what to do. You know exactly why I have this jacket on."

He frowns, clearly not expecting such a response. "You had it off downstairs."

"Because I was comfortable."

"You're not comfortable here?"

"To be fair-"

"Or is this about Tuan? It is about Tuan, isn't it?" He seems to lean forward, revelling in tormenting me. "It's always about Tuan."

"You still have them?" He asks right afterwards and I don't respond, still shocked even when he abruptly stands, reaching my personal space within seconds.

"You have them." He wickedly grins from ear to ear, sliding the jacket off my shoulders without a single second of hesitation and tossing it to the ground.

"He would kill me for this." He breathes, cool fingertip ever so gently brushing over the exposed skin of my arm.

Remembering myself, I jerk backwards, gripping that arm and looking at the ground.

"I'm so stupid." He muses his smile now a forced one as he runs a hand through his carefully styled hair.

Having gone through something like this before, I know better than to stay any longer, picking my jacket from the floor.

I don't wear it again, knowing he'd probably seen and gotten what he wanted. I quickly leave, shutting the door behind me just as he lurches forwards, fist hitting the wall and a grunt of pain following afterwards.

-

After the day at work I just had, it was no surprise that I was willing to go out as soon as Namjoon had offered it. So, after adding the finishing touches to my appearance, I grab my car keys off the table, calling him to join me in the car.

He's dressed really nicely, with a white t-shirt tucked into black, baggy jeans and white Converse, his large, nude trench coat billowing a little in the night's wind.

"Right, I know you didn't want to talk about it earlier, but it's better to think about talking about  it now that you're calmer." He says, eyes still on the road as he makes a turn, city lights passing over his face. "What really happened at work today?"

"He lashed out today." I sigh. "I had a feeling he wasn't over what happened. It wasn't that long ago."

"Wait, what do you mean?"

I explain what happened in his office and it's soon his time to sigh as we park outside of the cinema. "I guess he was in a little bit of shock, Nari. You're probably right anyway. Maybe he truly just isn't over what happened.

He then smiles, snaking a comforting arm around my waist and pulling me closer. "I wouldn't blame him. It's you we're talking about."

Namjoon visited his older brother at the rehab regularly. So, you could say he knew Jimin well enough to say how many lines were on his palms. Yet, he's here with me instead of him.

With what happened to Tuan, it broke off a lot. Jimin's issues got worse and in the process, so did I. Namjoon was my shoulder to lean on.

He's sacrificed so much for me.

As we get comfortable in our seats, I place my head on his shoulder and hear him chuckle, side-hugging me.

We're already halfway through the movie when I'm itching to move around. "I need to wash my hands. Tell me what I missed?"

"Sure," He winks.

I use the restroom as quickly as I can so I don't miss too much when I hear voices behind the door near the toilet exit.

"I thought you said you didn't need her?" It's a female voice.

"Relax, okay? Let me get the money and the lawsuit, and we'll be good, okay? I love you."

I know that voice anywhere. It was the same voice that had spoken to me less than five minutes ago.

My throat and chest feel tight, but no tears fill my eyes. Instead, I push the door open and walk out, fingernails digging into my palms as I try to keep my cool.

Surprisingly, I meet Namjoon in the same position I'd left him in before I'd left.

"You okay, baby?"

"Yeah." I retort bluntly, sitting a seat away from him. Maybe it wasn't him, and I was just thinking things.

Yes. I'd imagined it.

"Do you want to hear what you mi-"

"No thanks." I need some time to think. Some time to myself.

I pick my purse up and quietly apologize to the people I might've stepped on as I start to leave.

"Where are you going?" He grabs my wrist, a genuinely confused look in his eyes as the lights from the screen reflect on his face.

I don't answer and continue on my way out. He follows me, of course, but I keep walking, ignoring his pleas, him wanting to know why I'm leaving him behind.

If what I suspect is actually happening, we'll see where and how he'll be going home tonight.