Jimin's Pet • PJM

Nineteen

Jimin couldn't stop fidgeting with the edge of the plastic seat of his chair, his nerves were shot. He'd received some very strange looks when he'd arrived at the prison, guards awkwardly shuffled him into a empty conference room looking nervously. The warden had shown up minutes later bowing and asking why he'd not called ahead 'this time'.

That meant he'd been here before, even if he had no recollection. He played off his mistake by blaming an unnamed PA and apologized profusely returning his bow deeply. The warden was concerned about his health but also alarmed he didn't have his own security. He agreed to the meeting but mentioned while looking regretful that what happened last time absolutely couldn't happen again. Jimin nodded, a model of remorse no clue what he meant.

They'd finally taken him to the visitation room after over an hour, they contritely explained because he'd come alone it wasn't a private sort of space and they had to follow protocol. Had he previously been given special privileges? The room was large with twelve cubicles lining each side of the outside of the room, glass partitions and more plastic chairs keeping prisoners separated from visitors. They'd cleared the room, no one else filled the spaces even though there had been a large crowd at the gate, and Jimin hoped he'd not ruined someone's chance to see their family member.

Now he was waiting, his brain a tumultuous storm of emotion. If he'd visited her in the past that must mean he was somehow involved with the attempted murder right? Was the cost of her not implicating him that he visit? Or maybe it had nothing to do with that, he could have come to see her for entirely different reasons, Irene certainly had the ability to manipulate him on a whim.

After almost thirty minutes he worried she'd refused to see him. Jimin's palms were slick, the back of his shirt clinging to his sticky sweaty skin as it pressed into the unforgiving chair. The angle of the seat was just sloped enough that it was almost unbearably uncomfortable, was that to deter people from staying too long?

He didn't have a plan which he knew was risky. Matching wits with someone soulless unprepared was never in his best interests but what choice did he have? If he learned anything it would be more than his closest friends had told him in the last weeks.

Jimin almost felt his insides flip when the door on her side of the cubicle opened and a guard brought Irene in. He hated that he thought she still looked beautiful, her long black hair shiny under the overhead lights. Both of them were silent while she was locked to the metal ring at the glass partition.

"You finally remembered I exist? How cute." Irene crossed her legs and raised a brow as the guard closed the door.

"I didn't forget you existed, I forgot you'd been locked up." Jimin sighed, he didn't put any accusation or sarcasm into his words.

If he'd meant his opening line to spur her into divulging all the details he'd forgotten, it hadn't worked. She remained silent watching him for a long moment.

"Stand up, turn around. Let me see you. You're so scrumptious to look at." Her request didn't surprise him, she was either going to humiliate him, or turn him into a show pony for the guards watching from both doorways.

He stood and turned slowly in a circle, his face not betraying how ridiculous he thought this whole exercise was turning out to be. There was zero chance she was going to point him in the direction he needed.

"Do you have abs? Or did your hospital stay and recovery make you soft?" Her tongue dragged along her bottom lip and he held still to not react.

"I'm too thin for them. I lost over 7kg in the last month." Without her even asking he drew his shirt up halfway, his stomach was lean but not muscled.