The Cop From Busan || •PJM• ✔️

11.

I posted more than one chapter in a month???? 🤯🤯🤯

No but fr, now that I'm out of college, you can expect updates more frequently!

☂ Chapter 11 ☂

'Beep... beep... beep...'

The pain in his bicep was an afterthought, and he couldn't tell if that was thanks to the morphine or the adrenaline he felt every time he glanced at the unconscious woman before him. Jungkook was in the room down the hall, and countless other officers were occupying beds Jimin would attempt to visit later. There were more deaths than injuries, and Jimin knew it'd take years to come to terms with that fact.

Jimin had always hated hospitals. His mother had started his hatred of them, but Irene had put the cherry on top. They always smelled like bleach, and Jimin hated needles. Y/n had several needles in her veins to keep her alive. Jimin didn't know if he should wince or kiss every needle to show his thanks for their service.

Something happened when he saw her laying in her own blood. She was his responsibility, and he had let her down. All she had wanted to do was complete the mission. He hadn't been there to support her. He got déjà vu; back when they were partners, he had let her down then, too. Was he destined to repeat his same mistakes over and over again?

Jimin brushed the thought away, especially when his memories fell on June. June had the most gorgeous smile. Jimin wished he could see it one last time, but he knew he didn't deserve it. He had lost that right the second he made his irredeemable choice.

Y/n stirred but didn't wake. The doctors didn't think she would for a few days, and Jimin had to come to terms with that. All he could do was listen to the faint beeps of her heartbeat monitor and smell the bleach. There was an air conditioner blowing, and it made a gentle humming sound that mixed with the monitor's beeps. As peaceful as it should have been, Jimin still felt cold.

His temporary serenity was interrupted by the door opening. It creaked and intruded on the otherwise soft sounds. He heard squishy footsteps that came to a halt mere moments later.

"I wasn't sure if you made it or not," a male voice said from the doorway. Jimin didn't have the courage to face his partner, so he kept his eyes on Y/n.

Kasper approached and sat on the chair next to him. Jimin had mentally reserved that spot for the old man Y/n adored. He knew the old man would never discover Y/n's current position, but it was the principle that mattered.

"Thank you for taking care of Jungkook," Jimin said, although he hated the idea of ever thanking such a racist man. "He would've died if it weren't for you."

"Yeah, whatever." Kasper kicked at the ground and pointed to Jimin's sling. "I heard you got shot."

Jimin had too much on his brain to care, but he did get a nasty wound. The bullet spiraled through his arm and cut through the other side. He was in a sling and wasn't approved for active duty for another three weeks. He could help investigate and do paperwork, but he had no choice but to stick to the sidelines for the time being. Seeing as Y/n would be out for even longer (assuming she still wanted to be an officer after that incident), Jimin didn't feel too bad about his status.

"I've been shot before," was all Jimin answered with before scooting himself closer to her bedside.

Kasper noticed and snorted. "I thought you hated her."

Jimin picked up her hand and noticed how marred it was. There were scars littered across every inch of her bare skin. Full chunks of flesh were missing, and her nails were so short they made his look long by comparison. Her gloves were on the bedside table. Jimin made a mental note to take them home and wash them when he got the chance.