Don't Call Me Angel || VMIN

δεκαεννέα

Unable to relax properly knowing that Sunwoo was still around, it wasn't until Jimin heard the front door slam shut that he attempted to reengage with his surroundings. He was quiet, completely still, for several moments, allowing the chill of the floorboards beneath his body to anchor him to reality.

If he could help it, he wasn't about to let himself slip into the same mixtape of wicked memories that continued to circle around his head like vultures. He couldn't revisit that now, not ever really, and he wished he could bury them so deep inside him that they would never again resurface. That was impossible, and the ravenette knew it, but he held on tight to the freedom he had from them for the time being.

Aware that Taehyung was still in the room, perched on the edge of an armchair while absentmindedly rolling the barrel of his gun between his fingers, the smaller fidgeted with a shard of the shattered glass that was splayed around him. It was blunt enough to not decorate his skin with a new wound and he was grateful for the mini distraction it gave him. The cool edge danced across his fingertips as he pressed it still more firmly into his nailbed.

After a minute of this, he ceased his movements, dropping the scrap to the floor and looking up at the elder to find him staring directly back. The shiver that ran through him wasn't caused by fear. Instead, it was accompanied by the familiar flutter of butterflies growing in his stomach. He tore his gaze away, now was definitely not the time to be blushing, he didn't even know it was possible to in the current situation. However, there was no denying that the concern tainting the other's defined features was the cause of this childish fluster.

Why couldn't he get a grip of himself, the dancer reprimanded, fisting the fabric of his top in annoyance. Absurd was one way to describe it, the whole scenario felt utterly unreal to him. He was getting flustered, surrounded by pieces of broken glass, because someone he had known for a couple of weeks, who was irrefutably attractive, seemed to be worried about it. There was a high chance he was overthinking the whole thing as well.

He scoffed at himself, who was he kidding? Since when was he ever going to scrape even a morsel of sympathy from anyone in this place?

"Will you be alright if I leave for a few minutes?" Taehyung asked, placing the weapon back in its holder and leaning forward to rest his chin on his palm, "I should get you something to eat. Even if you're not hungry, you need to try and eat something because you haven't had anything for a few days."

"I had lunch with Sunwoo a few hours before we left," Jimin corrected, carefully shifting his weight onto his heels so he could stand up, "That wasn't too long ago."

"Jimin," the elder started, making said individual stop and look over at him, "You've been out for two days, that fall took a lot out of you. Plus, I wouldn't call that tiny portion of rice and tofu 'lunch'."

The younger sat back down, letting the words sink in. Had he really managed to knock himself out for that long? A groan from his stomach confirmed it and he hid the flare of embarrassment rushing to his cheeks. He heard a low chuckle from above, making the pink blush deepen to a ripe shade of scarlet. The other got to his feet, starting towards the door before turning around, which caught Jimin off-guard and he dipped his head once again.

"Jin hyung has already made you some ginseng chicken soup, I hope you're okay with that," he informed the smaller, "If you do get up, stay in this room and try not to step on any of the glass. I would clear it up now, but I doubt you want anyone near you at the moment."

Footsteps diminishing down the hall signalled he had left and the other looked up, no longer covering his cheeks, which had returned to their typical peachy colour. While he figured out what he was going to do, Taehyung's previous words came back to him and he frowned. Had he really been unconscious for two whole days? The thought of blacking out for that length of time scared him. There was no saying what might have happened, anything could have been done to him and he would be none the wiser.