The Rejects [YoonMin][NamJin]

Chapter Twenty-Four

Jimin sighed as Yoongi squirmed on his chest, their legs still woven together and his arm tucked in at the younger boy's side.

The elder had been shaky all day and couldn't keep his thoughts from invading his mind.

Yoongi had completed the first few days back at school without any significant bumps. The school had called the Kims and Mrs Park to update them on his behaviour.

They were pleased to report that the blonde hadn't been involved in any more incidents, he attended all his classes, and his woodworking teacher was pleasantly surprised with Yoongi's natural abilities, even though he'd never set foot in a workshop before.

But on Friday morning, the boy seemed more distant than usual, his vacancy more distinct than ever.

Yoongi didn't show up to his first two classes, and nobody knew where he was. Mrs Kim called the boy several times, but he didn't answer; she was about to drive back to the school to help with the search when she received another call from Jimin.

The pink-haired boy walked into the dance studio to find the blonde slumped against the wall, his face buried in his hands as he sat in the gloomy darkness.

When Jimin tried to ask if the elder was okay, Yoongi didn't respond; he simply stayed seated until the younger approached, sliding his arm around the older boy's waist and placing his head on his shoulder.

He waited patiently for the elder to perk up, which felt like a lifetime, but eventually, he reached for the pink boy's hand and mumbled something soul-destroying.

The reason Yoongi was so distraught and dejected.

Mrs Kim was there in minutes. All she cared about was protecting her foster son's well-being.

The blonde didn't hear the woman enter the dance studio because he was lost in overwhelming thoughts. He barely registered the younger boy's words until he felt the tiny fingers squeeze his hands.

Jimin was taken aback when Yoongi's head lifted, his eyes watering and lower lip wobbling with evident anguish. But it wasn't the sadness that shocked the pink-haired boy.

It was how the blonde-haired boy stared at Mrs Kim for a split second, taking in how the dark-haired woman knelt in front of him with her hands out, ready to receive him, so he launched himself at her.

Yoongi threw himself at the woman and sobbed, his arms wrapped tightly around her body as she stroked the back of his head and rubbed his back. In his mind, he was that distressed ten-year-old boy again, and he needed to feel comfort and love.

He needed someone to trust so that he could feel safe.

Jimin watched as the woman reassured the boy he loved, holding him tightly as he let out the agony he held in his heart. He watched as she promised never to let him go and help however she could; she just needed to know what was hurting him so badly.

The pink-haired boy was the one to answer that question.

It was the anniversary of his parent's death, and this was the first time he had been living in a safe place, and he was finally able to process the grief. And it was crippling.

Mrs Kim didn't force the boy to stay at school; he was too distressed to function, so she took him home where he could spend the weekend coming to terms with his sadness.

The woman smiled when she saw Jimin lightly cupping the older boy's face, smiling as he gently kissed Yoongi's lips and promised to visit after school.

That was how the younger boy huddled up in the elder's bed, holding him close, listening to his steady breaths.

Mrs Kim had been in several times throughout the afternoon to check on the blonde, but the moment Jimin stepped through the door, she silently slid it shut and left the pair to their privacy.