Till death do us part [ j.jk × p.jm ]

chapter 11

The road stretched out before them, a ribbon of asphalt winding through the countryside. Namjoon's hands gripped the steering wheel with a steady determination, his mind weighed down by the heavy silence that enveloped the car. Beside him, Jimin sat in silence, his gaze fixed on the passing landscape, but his thoughts were far away, lost in the turmoil of his emotions.

Namjoon stole a glance at his friend, noting the downturn of his lips and the furrow of his brow. He knew that look well – it was the same expression Jimin wore whenever he was hurt or disappointed. And Namjoon knew the source of his friend's pain all too well.

"Last time he shoved you in the trunk of the car, and this time he left you on the road," Namjoon spoke softly, his voice breaking the silence like a crack in the stillness. He risked another glance at Jimin, but the younger man remained silent, his eyes fixed on the horizon.

Namjoon navigated the familiar streets that led to Jimin's parents' estate. He stole a glance at his friend, searching for any sign of wavering in his resolve, but Jimin's expression remained as stony as the walls of the mansion they were approaching.

"Are you sure I should take you to your parents' estate now?" Namjoon ventured, his voice tinged with concern. "You know, you can stay with me this evening. I think you would like some company at this time."

Jimin's glare could have frozen fire, his eyes cold and distant as he turned to face Namjoon. "Do you think I'm such a loser that I need company?" His voice was muffled, barely concealing the bitterness that seeped through his words. "That moron doesn't even cross my mind... But my parents are to blame for everything."

Namjoon's heart sank at the venom in Jimin's tone, the weight of his friend's words heavy in the air between them. He had known for a long time about the strained relationship between Jimin and his parents, but hearing the pain in his friend's voice still cut him to the core.

As Jimin continued, his arms folded tightly across his chest, Namjoon could feel the anger simmering just beneath the surface, a tempest waiting to be unleashed. "They're trying to ruin my whole life," Jimin spat, his voice dripping with contempt. "Instead of marrying me off to someone mature and trustworthy, they're forcing me to marry some idiot who hasn't finished puberty yet!"

As the car rolled closer to the looming estate, Namjoon felt a surge of determination to ease Jimin's burden, to offer him some semblance of solace in the midst of his turmoil.

"Jimin," Namjoon began gently, his voice a soothing balm against the rawness of his friend's emotions, "I know it feels like the weight of the world is on your shoulders right now, but you're not alone in this. You have people who care about you, who want to see you happy."

Jimin's shoulders tensed, but he didn't interrupt as Namjoon continued, his words a steady stream of reassurance. "And as for your parents," Namjoon sighed, his gaze fixed firmly on the road ahead, "they may not always understand you or your choices, but their love for you is undeniable. Maybe they're just scared, trying to protect you in their own misguided way."

There was a moment of silence between them, the tension in the car slowly dissipating like fog beneath the morning sun.

"You're strong, Jimin," Namjoon said softly, his voice filled with conviction. "You've faced challenges before, and you've always come out stronger on the other side. This is just another bump in the road, and together, we'll navigate it."

Jimin's gaze softened, the hard lines of his face smoothing into something resembling acceptance.

And as they pulled up to the grand gates of the estate, Namjoon couldn't help but feel a sense of hope blossoming within him, a belief that no matter what challenges lay ahead, they would face them together, as friends bound by a bond stronger than any adversity.

With a heavy heart, Namjoon watched as Jimin stepped out of the car, his posture still weighed down by the burden of his troubles. But as he watched his friend straighten his shoulders, a flicker of determination danced in Jimin's eyes, a silent promise to face whatever awaited him head-on.

"Remember, I'm just a phone call away," Namjoon called out as Jimin made his way towards the imposing front doors of the estate. "No matter what happens, you can count on me."

Jimin nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips, a glimmer of gratitude shining through the darkness that had clouded his spirit. "Thanks, Namjoon," he replied, his voice stronger now, more resolute. "I'll keep that in mind."

As Namjoon watched Jimin disappear into the depths of the mansion, a sense of unease settled over him like a shroud. He knew that the road ahead would not be easy for his friend, that there would be many obstacles to overcome and battles to fight. But he also knew that Jimin was strong, stronger than he gave himself credit for, and that he would emerge from this trial even stronger than before.

With a sigh, Namjoon shifted the car into gear and began the journey back home, the silence of the empty road echoing the quiet determination that burned within him. He would be there for Jimin, every step of the way, ready to offer support and encouragement whenever it was needed.

The next morning, as Jimin arrived at his fashion design studio, his mind still reeling from the events of the previous day, he found himself faced with a new challenge. A prestigious fashion competition was fast approaching, and Jimin's designs were not yet finalized. With the pressure mounting, Jimin turned to Namjoon, his trusted manager, for guidance and support.

As they poured over sketches and fabric samples, the tension between them began to thaw, replaced by a shared sense of determination to succeed. Together, they worked tirelessly to bring Jimin's vision to life, each drawing inspiration from their own unique perspectives.

Jimin furrowed his brow as he studied the latest sketch spread out before him on the table. "I don't know, Namjoon. Something just doesn't feel right about this design."

Namjoon leaned in closer, examining the intricate details of the sketch. "I see what you mean," he replied, his brow furrowing in concentration. "Maybe we need to rethink the color palette? Or perhaps adjust the silhouette slightly?"

Jimin nodded thoughtfully, his mind racing with possibilities. "You might be onto something," he conceded, a glimmer of excitement lighting up his eyes. "Let's try experimenting with some different fabrics and see how it changes the overall look."

As they delved deeper into their creative process, the tension that had simmered between them began to dissipate, replaced by a shared sense of purpose and determination. With each new idea they explored, they grew closer, their bond strengthened by their mutual passion for their craft.

But just as they seemed to be gaining momentum, a voice from across the studio interrupted their concentration. "Jimin, Namjoon, can I have a word?"

They turned to see their head seamstress, Mrs. Choi, standing in the doorway, her expression grave. Jimin's heart sank as he realized the gravity of her tone – something was wrong.