Seven | BTS ✓

12

"That was a good match. You had great defense," Jackson says proudly over the cheering voices in the small arena.

"I always fight better when I'm angry," Jimin grumbles as he takes the gloves off his hands.

"You're always angry though," Jackson says, following him through the crowd of people and into a private room where his belongings wait.

"Which is why I'm a great fighter," Jimin responds, grabbing a towel to wipe the sweat from his face and chest.

"I'm gonna go do some publicity stuff. You good?" he asks, eyeing him carefully. Jackson knows how angry he is after fights. It's like fighting makes the anger worse instead of better.

"I will be. Just give me some space," he says, staring at his shaking hands.

He leaves him alone in the room, only for there to be a knock on the door a moment later.

"Go away," Jimin yells.

"Why yes, I would love to come in!" Lucy says cheerfully as she opens the door and enters the room.

He scowls at her. "What the hell do you want?"

She smiles sweetly and grabs a folding chair to sit next to him. "I can take it away again. If you want."

Jimin runs his hands through his sweaty hair in frustration. He doesn't want to accept help from her. But it really was incredible how calm he felt after she helped him yesterday. He'd never felt like that before. It was incredible.

He rolls his eyes and sticks his hand out to her, waiting for her to do whatever she does to take it away.

She gives a small laugh and grabs his chin gently with one hand, moving him to face her. She leans in slowly, placing a soft kiss on his dry lips, and he immediately feels the Wrath ebb away.

"Here. You seem thirsty," she smiles, handing him a water bottle.

"We both know I don't need that and I don't have to pretend I do since no humans are here," he mumbles, twisting his ring around on his finger.

"Do you feel better now?" she nudges her shoulder against his.

"Yes, I do. Um... thanks," he says, not making eye contact.

"When it gets to be too much, just let me know and I'll help. Okay? Don't be stubborn."

He scoffs. "I'm not stubborn."

She raises an eyebrow. "Oh? Okay, whatever you say."

"What happened to your hair anyways?" he asks, changing the subject.

"Do you like it? I've had red hair for too long and I wanted to feel... different."

"It's fine. Why do you want to feel different?" he asks, glancing over at her. She's looking at her hands in her lap.

"Irrelevant," she says, smiling at him. But the smile doesn't reach her eyes.

"How do you expect us to trust you if you won't trust us, Lucy?" Jimin asks, turning his full attention to her now. "You told us a lot of what we wanted to know, sure. But you know we have a million other questions that we deserve an answer to."

"I know. And I will give you answers. I just don't want to give them to you right now."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm having fun playing with you," she grins wickedly.

"You're so full of shit," he laughs. That's a weird feeling. To laugh.

"The answers you seek will show themselves to you in time. When you are ready."

"And now you're a walking fortune cookie."

"You're funny when you aren't angry," she smiles softly at me.

"Can I ask you something?" he asks suddenly.

"Yes."

"Why can't we remember anything before we were taken?" he asks, keeping his eyes locked on hers.

She tries to look away.

"Lucy, look at me and answer the question."

"I can't answer that. Not yet."

Jimin sighs in frustration. "Why not?"

"Irrelevant."

"Fucking stop with that!" he yells, standing up and tossing his chair into the wall.

She smiles. "I can't hold onto your anger for you if you don't try to stay calm, Park Jimin."

Jimin runs his hands through his hair again, letting his breath stabilize. "You know I can sense your anger. It's... deafening. Maybe even worse than mine, if that's possible."

She gives a small laugh but says nothing.

"How do you keep it under control so well?" he asks, watching her carefully as she stands from her chair.

"I have a tremendous amount of anger, yes. But not at the seven of you. So there's no reason to show that side of myself towards you or the others," she explains, reaching out to pat his shoulder.

She starts to walk to the door, but he finds that he doesn't want her to leave.

"Wait."

"You know, you look really cute when you're angry," she says over her shoulder, her back to him as her hand rests on the doorknob.

"But I'm always angry."

"Exactly."

And then she leaves.