Husfriends ~𝓨𝓸𝓸𝓷𝓶𝓲𝓷

Chapter 2, Jimin

Chapter 2
Jimin

The evening air was colder than usual, the wind biting against my skin as I walked home. My hands gripped the straps of my backpack tightly, my knuckles white from the pressure. Taehyung and Jungkook had done their best to cheer me up with ice cream, their warm laughter filling the space around me. And for a little while, I had let myself pretend—pretend that everything was fine, that my heart wasn’t aching, that the sting of Yoongi’s words from earlier wasn’t still carved deep into my soul.

"Didn’t I tell you? Here at college, we’re just a junior and a senior—nothing more."

I swallowed hard, forcing myself to push the memory away as I approached the front door. The house stood still and silent, the lights dimly flickering through the windows. A home should feel warm, welcoming—a place of safety and love.

But this house... this house felt nothing like a home.

Sighing, I stepped inside, kicking off my shoes with a dull thud. The quiet was deafening, wrapping around me like a heavy, suffocating blanket.

I walked into the kitchen, staring at the spotless counters and the perfectly arranged dishes. Everything was in its place—just like my life should have been. I had everything, didn’t I? A roof over my head, a husband, a prestigious family name. So why did it feel like I had nothing at all?

Maybe cooking would help. At the very least, it would keep my hands busy, keep my mind from spiraling further into places I didn’t want to go.

The kitchen soon filled with the comforting aroma of freshly cooked food. I carefully set the dining table for two, my hands smoothing out the tablecloth, my heart clinging to a fragile hope. Maybe tonight would be different. Maybe if I did something nice for him, he’d see me—not as an inconvenience, not as a burden, but as someone who loved him.

Maybe... just maybe, he’d smile at me.

The sound of the doorbell made my heart jump.

I rushed to the door, my lips already curling into a hopeful smile.

"Welcome back, Hyung! How was your—"

The words died on my tongue.

Yoongi stood in front of me, unsteady, reeking of alcohol. His sharp, bloodshot eyes barely focused on me as he staggered inside, his steps uneven. The smell of liquor clung to him, but beneath it was something even stronger—something bitter, something that made my stomach twist.

Disdain.

"Ugh… Just shut up," he muttered, his voice slurred. "I don’t want to see your ugly face. Get out of my way."

I flinched, the sting of his words landing deep. But I forced myself to hold back my emotions, to ignore the way my heart clenched painfully.

"Hyung… are you okay? Let me get you some water—"

My fingers barely brushed his wrist before he yanked his arm away, his expression twisting with irritation.

"Oh, I didn’t introduce you to my secretary," he said, amusement laced in his drunken words. "Meet Sini, my sexy secretary."

My breath caught in my throat.

A woman. He brought a woman home.

Something inside me snapped.

"I’m your husband, Min Yoongi," I said, my voice trembling with barely contained fury. Then I turned to her, my eyes burning with rage. "And you—what are you doing in my house? Get out. Now."

Sini pouted, feigning innocence as she clung to Yoongi’s arm. "Daddy, why is he telling me to leave? Can’t you do something?"

The nickname made bile rise in my throat.

Yoongi smirked, his head tilting slightly as if he was enjoying my pain. "Don’t worry about him, babe. He can’t do anything. This is my house too."

My hands clenched into fists.

Sini’s fingers trailed over his chest, her lips curving into something wicked. I didn’t think—I just reacted. My palm met her cheek with a sharp slap, the sound echoing through the room.

Sini gasped, clutching her face in shock.

"Daddy, look! He slapped me!"

Before I could process what was happening, a sharp sting exploded across my cheek.

Yoongi had slapped me.

"How dare you slap my baby?!" he snarled.

I stumbled slightly, my vision blurring for a second. My cheek burned, but the real pain—the real agony—was in the way he looked at me. Like I was nothing. Like I was worthless.

"Hyung, you’re not in a condition to act like this," I whispered, my voice breaking. "Please, just stop."

But instead of stopping, he hit me again.

Tears welled up in my eyes, but I refused to let them fall.

"You’re no one to tell me what to do!" he spat, his words cutting deep. "Stop pretending to be my husband!"

I sucked in a shaky breath.

"Pretending?"

A numbness spread through me, dulling the sharp edges of my heartbreak.

"You want space, Hyung?" My voice was quiet, hollow. "Fine. I won’t bother you anymore."

Without another word, I turned away, my heart shattering with every step I took.

"Guards," I called out, my voice steady despite the tremor in my hands. "Take this woman out of my house."

The guards moved swiftly, ignoring Sini’s protests as they dragged her away. Yoongi cursed, his drunken words barely making sense.

I didn’t look back.

Instead, I walked toward our bedroom, setting up the bed despite the dull ache in my body. I placed a dinner tray beside the bed, knowing he hadn’t eaten.

"Hyung, please eat," I whispered. "Even if you hate me, please take care of yourself."

But his anger hadn’t faded.

"Did I ask for any of this?" he snapped. "Did I ask you to care for me?"

Another slap.

The dinner tray crashed to the floor, the clatter of broken dishes ringing in my ears.

"I hate you!" he roared. "I don’t want to see you anymore!"

I fell to my knees, my body trembling as tears slipped down my cheeks.

Yoongi turned away, his breathing uneven. For the briefest moment, something flickered in his eyes—guilt, regret?—but it was gone before I could grasp it.

As he stumbled toward the bathroom, I curled up on the floor, my sobs muffled by the emptiness of the room.

"Why, God? Why does this always happen to me? The one I love the most… he doesn’t even want to see my face. Why?"

I gasped for breath, my chest tightening with an anxiety attack, my hands clutching my shirt as if I could hold myself together.

"I’ll give you what you want, Hyung. You want space? Fine. I’ll never bother you again. But one day, you’ll feel the way I feel now. I promise."

And with that, exhaustion pulled me into a restless, nightmare-ridden sleep.

---

Outside the room, footsteps hesitated just beyond the door.

Yoongi.

Without another word, he turned and walked away
Leaving me alone. Again.