among thieves ✨ || bts • pjm [COMPLETED]

0.7

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The night was dark and tranquil, only the occasional sound of a passing car or motorbike being heard outside. Everyone was sleeping, but not everyone was sleeping peacefully.

Arabella had been tossing and turning in her restless sleep. They said you progressed the past day in your dreams, but the past day had only brought back unpleasent memories to her. Long forgotten ones that filled her sleep with nightmares of the past.

"Where are my parents?"
"You don't have any."
"Of course I do. Where are they?"
The woman gave her an evil glare, seemingly fed up with her rebellious attitude. Going back to the files she was holding.
"Stop the whining. There are far better ways to get what you want than that. And we'll teach you which ones. So forget about your useless parents. From now on, you only have us."

Little Arabella began to cry silent tears as the woman walked away to the next children in line.

She suddenly felt a tug on her sleeve from the girl behind her and she turned around with red eyes. The girl was maybe 7 years old and taller than Arabella who was only 5.
"Don't cry, Arabella Valentine," she read from the name tag.
"That's not my name!" she frowned, shaking her head frantically.
"Your name ain't Arabella? But that bracelet says so, too." The girl pointed at the silver bracelet that was way too big for her tiny wrist.
"No, that.. that is my name," Arabella sobbed then6, the tears dying down. "But not Valentine."
"Well, it is now."

Abrubtly, she jolted up in cold sweat and turned on the bedside lamp. For a moment she was desoriented and uncertain of where she was and where the other children had been, until eventually realisin it'd all been a mere dream. Her hand was clutching her pillow and she slowly sunk back to it. Her eyes then falling to her bracelet in front of them, shining under the faint light coming from the window. Reading the engraved 'Arabella' on it caused tears welling up in her eyes.

It was the only thing left from her 'first life', as she called it.

The bracelet she remembered receiving as a gift from her mother. She couldn't remember anything else, not when she got it nor why, not even her parents' faces. For most part of her life, she'd forgotten she even had parents like every other human being.

That little silver bracelet on her wrist was the only evidence left of it. And she buried her face into the pillow as the tears threatened to fall.

Meanwhile, in the other room, someone else had trouble to sleep as well, for entirely other reasons.

Jimin kept waking and falling asleep in a vicious circle due to the uncomfortable couch. Finally accepting that he wasn't going to fall asleep again, he sat up with a frustrated groan. Noticing light coming from underneath the door of Arabella's room.

Curiousity sparked in him and he reasoned it could be the perfect opportunity for some alone-time with her, if she was also awake. So he quietly walked over, licking his dry lips as he contemplated whether to knock and possibly earn a smack from her or just go back to sleep.

He awkwardly stood there for a moment longer and exhaled deeply. She'd probably only get annoyed with him again, he thought and was ready to return to the stone-hard couch when a faint noise made him him stop in his tracks.

For a second he hesitated, unsure of whether he had imagined the sound or not. He assumed it had been his imagination after all and he was about to go back to sleep when he heard it again.

He listened closely.

A.. a sob? Was she crying?

He froze.
When was the last time he'd seen Arabella cry? He couldn't remember, it was quite rare after all. She was usually good in having a poker face and hiding her true intentions and feelings from the world. Usually that came with this business.
However, Jimin knew that wasn't the only thing that caused her to hide her vulnerable side. With such a rough upbringing it was a miracle she hadn't become a straight up villain.

He concluded their earlier discussion must've triggered her bottled up emotions and memories. And now she was crying there in her room all alone because she'd never want to show this side to anyone or admit being 'weak'. And it broke his heart, especially since he was unable to comfort her directly. So he had to come up with a subtle approach.

With a deep inhale, he knocked. "Bella-baby, are you still up?" he asked in a cheery voice, pretending being oblivious to what was going on. He heard sniffing and shifting, then silence before the door swung open, revealing Arabella in her nightgown that was way shorter than expected. Her waves were tied in a ponytail and there was no evidence of her crying besides the red skin un6dern6eath her eyes.

She sighed tired, looking away. "What Jimin?"
He could tell by her breaking voice how heavy-hearted she was.

He pursed his lips, shrugging nonchalantly. "You know, this couch is killing me. Can't sleep," he began, "And seems you can't either. So why don't we do something productive instead?"

She laughed under her breath, shaking her head. "Like what?"
"Hm, whatever you like or, you know, I could think of a thing or two," he smirked and took a step closer. Closing his eyes and puckering his full lips playfully, only to hear Araballe laugh out.
"You're like a hormon-driven teenager, you know that?" She flickered her finger on his forehead and he winced, opening his eyes in pain. "That hurt," he whined.

"Good!" she giggled, pushing his chest lightly, "Now go to sleep."

"I can't sleep alone though," he pouted and she sighed at his late-night-attics. He was unbelievable. The way she wanted to punch and kiss him at the same time was unbelievable.
"You're a big boy, I think you can," she giggled and started shoving him out of the room, making him stumble backwards with a wide grin.
"You know, I'm glad you're smiling again."
And with that he turned around and walked back to his personal hell.

Arabella's lips parted as she watched him disappear from the light of her room, being speachless.

Had that act been on purpose? To distract her from the dark thoughts?

Her jaw clenched briefly before she began making her way through the dark living room.

"Jiminie," she whispered when she saw him laying on the couch. His brows furrowed at the unexpected sound of her voice. She never called him by that nickname unless she was acting purposely sweet and cute to ask him a favour or lure information out of him. So it made him suspicious now.

"Yeah?" he whispered back.

For a moment it was silent and he thought she'd returned to her room until he heard her again, patting around in the dark until her cold, delicate fingers eventually found his cheeks and cupped them from where she was leaning over the armrest above his head.

He didn't say anything, only held his breath as he let her squeaze them lightly. And next thing he felt were her velvety lips gently pressing on his and her hair falling onto his chest.

His body floated on water, then clouds as her mouthed moved against his in an opposite placement. Only when she retreated again, leaving nothing but a cool spot and her sweet taste on his wet lips, he returned to his senses.

"Thank you," she breathed against his flushed skin. And that was all she said before tiptoeing back to her room. Shutting the door behind her.

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