Don't Call Me Angel || VMIN

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Adrenaline pumped through him, his stomach twisting uncomfortably as he turned yet another corner, disappearing down a hidden alleyway. About halfway down the side road, he became aware of the pain searing throughout his body and he stumbled to an abrupt halt, leaning into the wall for support. He doubled over when a stabbing sensation shot across his ribs, crying out into the chill of the night.

Even though he was still utterly terrified, his legs refused to carry him any further and his muscles ached all over. Clearly, he wasn't as well rested as he had hoped and he closed his eyes, sucking in harsh breaths to try and lessen the pain. They didn't dull any of it, if anything they made the soreness more pronounced, but they did help to level the panic in his mind. The rhythmic motion gave him clarity, enough to focus his head on the trouble he had gotten himself into.

Steadying himself, Jimin recalled the feeling image of the man staring at him hungrily, eyes devouring his frame; even in the oversized hoodie he was wearing, people still continued to undress him with their lustful looks. He gagged at the thought, dragging a hand up to cover his mouth. Feeling contaminated, like the other's touch was still lingering on his skin, he pulled back the base of his hoodie and t-shirt, expecting to see the marks the aged fingers had left. Dark patches were littering his side, although they were much larger and from more recent incidents, and he hastily dropped the garments to cover them. He wasn't about to relive all of that, no thanks, not now and definitely not here, wherever here may be.

Shit, that was going to be a problem. Too busy running away, the ravenette hadn't taken the time to look at where he was heading and now he was somewhere completely unknown, surrounded by buildings that, even in the daylight, he wouldn't begin to be able to identify. He shouldn't have left Taehyung like that, that was his first mistake, and it was stupid that he didn't at least consider his direction before sprinting off.

Beginning to freak out again, he sunk down, crouching on the dingy pavement, huddled behind a large rusted cable box. It concealed the vast majority of his figure from any prying eyes, not that there was anyone around, and he wedged himself into the corner, propping his elbows on his knees. If he could stay hidden until morning, then maybe he could ask someone for directions to Seokjin's apartment. Who was he kidding, it wasn't like he had the courage to approach random strangers and he couldn't even remember the address. Well done, Jimin, well done.

"I'm sorry, Taehyung," he whispered, squeezing his hands into tight fists around the roots of his hair, "I'm so, so sorry."

Footsteps pounded down a nearby road, making the ravenette tense up. He tried to make himself even smaller, debating whether or not he should risk the fickle safety that his hiding spot provided to see who it was. Whoever they were, they didn't sound far off and he heard them mutter something under their breath urgently. A voice responded from somewhere else, cracking up slightly. The volume of their tone made it impossible for him to work out anything about them, so he stayed back in case they weren't who he wanted them to be. A buzz echoed out, wait, were they talking on the phone?

It didn't matter, right now he needed to find an actual safe place where he could figure out what the heck he was going to do next.

"Jimin," Taehyung's voice called, sharp and strained in the otherwise silent air.

He sounded worried and the dancer almost cried with relief. He had been the one following him after all, it wasn't the old man. Really, it was obvious; the old man wouldn't have been able to chase after him, not without catching the attention of Taehyung and then, he would have been in a lot of trouble. Also, he doubted he would have been able to run that fast anyway.

Dragging himself to his feet, ignoring the protests from his limbs, Jimin started forward and then tumbled to the ground again. Gravel scraped at his hands, having thrust them out to break his fall, and a single tear escaped his eye at the new stinging spreading across his palms. Well, that was one more injury to add to his list. His legs were exhausted from their lack of energy and they rejected each of his attempts to stand up again. He must have looked incredibly foolish, gripping onto whatever he could and still failing to lift himself up.