Don't Call Me Angel || VMIN

τριάντα τέσσερα

TW// violence 

"To give him a reason not to."

Whatever those words meant didn't matter to Jimin for, even though he didn't understand them, they managed to calm him down every so slightly, and he released his hands from around the metal clasp. Almost in slow motion, he brought them to rest on his knees, no longer feeling nauseous owing to the reassuring tone the brunette possessed. Although he had somewhat settled, most of his nerves remained bundled in his brain and he began to fiddle with the skin around his nail bed, digging his other nail in absentmindedly in hopes that it would provide a distraction.

Taehyung watched this with a growing frown, disliking the red welt that was forming every time the dancer attacked his finger. Tentatively, he reached his hand across for Jimin's fidgeting ones, giving him plenty of time to draw away if he wanted to, and he closed it over both of them. He brushed a finger over the top of the marks and carefully teased the smaller finger away from the place it was digging into. To give him something else to focus on instead, he wrapped it up in a comforting hold.

His delicate touch brought a faint blush to the younger's cheeks, but he struggled to pay attention to the darkening flush as a stronger voice called for him to pull away. That wasn't going to happen, he tried to convince himself, although it didn't stop him from wincing. The action made the other begin to draw back, watching him apologetically while he loosened his grip.

However, Jimin willed himself through it, squeezing the larger hand lightly to reaffirm that he was okay with the contact and smiling at the warmth that was now spreading through him. This seemed to relax the elder as well for he slackened back into his seat. Keeping his eyes alert on the road outside, he began to draw small spirals on the inside of his palm with the pad of his thumb.

"Please don't hurt yourself. If you ever need a distraction, I will always let you hold my hand," Taehyung comforted, "Always."

"Always," the dancer repeated in a tiny voice, lighting up at how the word sounded with the weight of the meaning it now carried.

He nearly giggled aloud at the butterflies storming around his stomach. They fell into a comfortable silence, well as comfortable as one can get whilst anticipating a terrible event. It wasn't written in stone that all hell was going to break loose, the elder had said he was there to stop that from occurring. Nonetheless, this thought had no effect on the worry swirling around inside Jimin's head.

The only reassurance came from the occasional soft squeeze from the hand intertwined with his own, bringing with it another flurry of bubbling jitters. Every time this happened, he would remind himself to focus on what was going on; they were sitting in a car trying to prevent anyone else from getting hurt, this was no time for his heart to start fluttering.

Twilight soon fell around them, cocooning the pool of light from the street lamp above them in a blanket of shadow so that it was all the more difficult to make out the two outlines of Jackson and Kai through both sets of tinted windows. Their targets were both lazily stretched out on their seats, apparently without a doubt that nothing would interrupt their night. Quite thrown off by their behaviour, the dancer had sent several confused glances over to Taehyung, receiving an eye roll along with some comment about their lack of professionalism each time. It was odd, to say the least, but if the brunette wasn't worried then he convinced himself he didn't need to be either.

Having been sitting there for close to two hours, Jimin was glad he had accepted Seokjin's offer of a second portion of the delectable beef dumplings he had cooked for dinner, knowing he would have regretted not eating more.

His mind had finally begun to feel more at ease in the plush interior of the car, so much so, that it took him several moments to register what had changed. The continuous warm tracing of Taehyung's finger had stilled, his hand growing tense and his eyes narrowing at the movement outside. Swiftly, the elder reached under the dashboard and dislodged a storm grey handgun, his other hand remaining in the ravenette's grip while he checked whether it was loaded or not.