The Cop From Busan || •PJM• ✔️

26.

☂ Chapter 26 ☂

It was time to say goodbye.

One month after closing the trafficking case, Y/n found herself at the airport out of uniform, but feeling like she had it on anyway. It was on her body, even when she was naked. That feeling amplified in JFK. Countless crowds surrounded her as she bounced and stormed her way through them, stumbling and almost falling if it weren't for Jimin's grip on her elbow keeping her upright.

Ever since Jimin "resigned," or got kind of fired, from NYPD, he hadn't been the same. NYPD had been his life, and the reason he had vacated South Korea. But after so much time, the resignation was like a wake up call to him, and she couldn't blame him. The warehouse and trafficking case had been a wake up call for her, and she had plans to take advantage of it.

Jimin and her didn't talk as they navigated the hectic airport, making their way to one of the various gates Y/n couldn't remember the number of to save her life. It was a good thing she wasn't on the flight, otherwise she'd be screwed. It wasn't like she had ever been on a plane before, so she didn't know the first thing about all that stuff other than it was stressful and stupid. Most airlines screwed the people over for an extra buck. Oh, and fuck Boeing, apparently. Anytime she looked into airfare, she saw the phrase "If it's a Boeing, I'm not going." Ever since, she made a mental pact to fly Airbus planes. Not that she had the money for either, but still. At least Jimin was flying an Airbus. She thought so, anyway. Shit, she couldn't remember. How was she an officer with her memory being as reliable as Dory's?

"This way, darling," Jimin said, tugging her closer to one of the quieter areas. It was nearby his gate (she thought so, anyway—still didn't remember the gate number), but not quite in front of it, and she furrowed her brows upon seeing him slow to a halt.

"Jimin, wha-"

"Shh." He placed his finger over her lips, bringing his red and blue suitcase behind him so he could place his other hand on her cheek. The loud chatter of JFK fell into the background, as did the overwhelming smell of sweat. Instead, she focused on Jimin's peachy aroma and puppy-like eyes. "I'll come back soon, okay? You know I don't want to go without you, but..."

"You need to do it alone." She hummed as she said it, chuckling afterward. "I know. I'm not going anywhere. Unlike you, I have a job, soooo..."

"Okay, ouch." He put a hand over his chest and pouted. "Low blow."

"Nu-uh: true blow."

Jimin snickered and kissed her forehead, keeping his voice quiet. "Alright, alright, as true as that is, that's not the point. The point is I'm trying to be all romantic, and you're making fun of me."

"You enjoy it. Don't lie to yourself, you little masochist."

"Hey," he said with a huff, rolling his adorable little eyes. "I'll have you know I'm not a masochist, I just endure pain to see if I can handle it. Not because I'm a masochist. There's a difference."

"Riiiight, and I love it when you choke me because I want to see if I can handle it, not because I'm into it."

"Don't tempt me to bend you over in the bathroom before I go-"

"Jimin."

"Right. We're supposed to be saying goodbye. Sorry." He stopped for a moment to grin, a single dimple poking against his cheek. "I love you, Y/n. When I come back, things might be different. You know that, right?"

"I know. And I know neither of us are swimming in money, so if you need a place to stay, there's enough room for you and your little buddy at my place."