Love At First Kick

102

RIN POV

It took us good 3 days, but we sorted all the mail we got sitting these 3 months we weren't home. We got a lot of fan letters, mostly women asking Jimin to marry them and such. I think we might need to move. Looks like too many people found out where we live.

We also contacted Adidas, explaining how we were in the US so we didn't get a chance to see it before. They set up a meeting for both of us next week. Looks like they wanted to sponsor us since the last World Championship. I feel like a celebrity. It's crazy.

But at the moment, we've got bigger things. Or, more important.

We are just on our way to his dad's place in Busan.

I was watching him drive, and ever so often he would grip the steering wheel a bit tighter, then release it. He must have a million thoughts on his mind, but I'm afraid to even ask. He will tell me himself if he wants to.

We drove in silence for the first two hours, only listening to the music quietly.

'Baby, can you do me a favour?' That was the first thing he said in hours

'Anything.'

'Keep me calm. Once we're there, don't let me kill him.' He really is fighting with himself about this

'I promise. I won't let go of you. Pinky promise.' I smile at him as he glances over

'Thank you.' He took my hand, bringing it to his face and leaving a kiss on it

'Anytime.'

We were there about an hour and a half later. He didn't even want to park on the driveway, so he parked on the street in front.

What the hell does his dad do for a living? This house is massive. It's even bigger than his mom's. But I know that every square foot of the house holds some kind of terrible memory for Jimin. He was holding my hand firmly, reluctant to go in.

'Hey.' I shook his hand a bit to get his attention. 'Come here.'

He faced me with a deep sigh, leaning his forehead on mine. I cupped his face, holding him gently.

'You've got this. I'm right here if you need me, okay?' I lift his chin just a bit, kissing him softly. 'I love you.'

'I love you, too.' He cracks a small smile. 'Thank you. I think I'll be okay now.' He sounded a bit more sure

He pushed open the little door by the front gate, walking onto the driveway. The lights are on, so his dad must be home.

He was holding the house keys so tightly in his hand that it left key marks in the palm of his hand. He hesitated a second before putting the key in the keyhole and turning it, unlocking the door.

I took his hand as soon as we walked in. I don't intend on letting go of him. He smiled lightly, squeezing my hand tightly. He said he would be okay, but his hands are so sweaty right now. I get why, though. Even I'm nervous. I can't even imagine what it's like for him. This is a house where he spent 12 years of his life being beaten every day. This is a house where he knew nothing but torture and suffering. This is a house that holds little to no happy memories for him. 

He didn't say a word, but he started walking through the foyer, pulling me along.

I was just looking around, soaking in the surroundings around me. I wonder if there is a single spot in this mansion where he felt safe even in the slightest.

He suddenly stopped walking, squeezing my hand so hard that I felt like he was going to break it. All I needed to see was his face. His clenched jaw. His glaring eyes.