As the days turned into weeks, Jimin settled into his new life as a servant in Yoongi’s mansion. He worked tirelessly, cleaning rooms, preparing meals, and tending to the needs of the household. The physical labor was a welcome distraction from the turmoil inside him, yet every time he caught a glimpse of Yoongi, a familiar ache filled his chest.
Yoongi, on the other hand, maintained a cold distance. He acted as though Jimin were just another employee, deliberately ignoring any hint of their past. The warmth they once shared was replaced by an icy silence that stung Jimin deeper than any physical pain. Yoongi would pass by without so much as a glance, his heart hardened against the memories that threatened to break through.
Each day, Jimin put on a brave face as he worked, trying to convince himself that this was the right choice. But inside, he felt more like a ghost than a servant. He moved through the mansion, invisible and alone, haunted by the knowledge that the man he still loved was just a room away, yet utterly unreachable.
During his breaks, Jimin would often find himself in the kitchen, trying to drown out his thoughts by focusing on the tasks at hand. He would catch snippets of Yoongi’s laughter when he entertained guests, and each sound pierced through Jimin’s heart like a knife. He remembered the times they had laughed together, the sweet moments that now felt like distant memories.
One evening, as Jimin cleaned up after dinner, he overheard Yoongi speaking to one of his friends in the living room. “I don’t care about his past or why he’s here. He made his choice, and I refuse to be a part of it,” Yoongi said, his voice tinged with bitterness.
Jimin paused, heart racing, and felt the sting of Yoongi’s words wash over him. It was as if he had been slapped in the face. The truth hung heavily in the air: Yoongi believed he had chosen Jack, that he had turned his back on everything they had built together. But how could he explain the reality of his life without tearing open old wounds?
In the following days, Jimin’s heart grew heavier. He continued to hear whispers from the staff, gossiping about his past, about the failed marriage and the bruises he sometimes concealed beneath long sleeves. He could feel their judgmental glances and hear the murmurs behind his back. They pitied him, but their pity felt like salt in an open wound.
One afternoon, while washing dishes, Jimin accidentally dropped a plate, shattering it into pieces. Panic surged through him as he quickly bent down to clean up the mess, but the sound of Yoongi's sharp voice stopped him in his tracks.
“Are you really that incompetent?” Yoongi snapped, his eyes narrowing in irritation. The harshness of his words cut Jimin deeper than he could express.
“I—I’m sorry, sir,” Jimin stammered, fighting back tears as he hastily gathered the broken pieces. “It was an accident.”
“Accidents happen when you’re careless, like you was always ” Yoongi replied dismissively, turning away. The sting of rejection was almost unbearable, and Jimin felt his heart crumble under the weight of Yoongi's disdain.
The days bled into each other, a blur of loneliness and heartache. Jimin would go to bed every night with the memories of their past haunting him, while Yoongi, in his own world, seemed oblivious to Jimin’s suffering. The house felt cold, and Jimin often curled up in his small room, wishing he could go back to the days when he felt loved and cherished.
With each passing day, the weight of his situation pressed down on him more heavily. He felt invisible in Yoongi’s mansion, a mere shadow of the vibrant person he once was. The laughter and light had been drained from him, leaving only a hollow shell.
One evening, while dusting the shelves in the living room, Jimin caught sight of Yoongi's album covers lining the walls, a testament to his success and the life they had once dreamed of sharing. Each image ignited memories of late nights spent talking about their hopes and futures. But now, those dreams felt utterly shattered.
“Jimin?” Yoongi’s voice pulled him from his thoughts, but there was no warmth in it, just the same cold indifference. “Make sure to take out the trash.”
“Yes, sir,” Jimin replied quietly, the familiarity of the command a painful reminder of his position. He turned away, heart aching as he realized just how far apart they had drifted.
As he walked outside to dispose of the garbage, Jimin felt the tears he had held back for so long finally spill over. He stood in the shadows, sobbing silently as he felt the weight of his life crashing down around him. The hope of rekindling the love he once shared with Yoongi felt impossibly far away, and the reality of his situation became almost too much to bear.
In that moment, under the night sky, Jimin realized he had to find a way to fight back, to reclaim a part of himself that had been lost. But how could he do that when he felt so utterly alone?
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Jimin settled into his role as a servant in Yoongi’s mansion, forcing himself to adhere to a strict routine. He cleaned, cooked, and ran errands, all the while fighting back tears that threatened to spill. Yoongi’s demeanor was icy and indifferent, treating Jimin like any other staff member, with a clipped tone and an air of professionalism that cut deeper than any harsh word could.
Every day, Jimin worked tirelessly, stealing glances at Yoongi when he thought no one was watching. Memories of their past flooded his mind, the warmth of their laughter and the tenderness of their shared moments haunting him. But each time their eyes met, Yoongi would look right through him, a reminder of how far they had drifted apart.
“Jimin, get the laundry done and make sure the guest room is ready,” Yoongi ordered one afternoon, his voice devoid of any warmth. Jimin nodded silently, feeling the sting of rejection wash over him as he turned away.
As he worked, Jimin’s heart ached with the knowledge that the person he loved most now viewed him as a stranger. Each task felt like a reminder of the distance that had grown between them. During the quiet moments in the kitchen, he would often find himself crying silently, the sound of his sobs muffled by the clattering of pots and pans. There was no one to hear his pain, no one to comfort him, just the echoes of his heartache filling the empty spaces around him.
Despite his efforts to remain professional, Jimin couldn't shake the feeling of being invisible in a house that once felt like home. He longed for Yoongi’s acknowledgment, a simple smile or a kind word, but instead, he was met with indifference. Every command felt like a dagger to his heart, each moment a reminder of the love they had lost.
“Please, just look at me,” he whispered to himself one evening as he cleaned the floors, the tears spilling over. But Yoongi remained oblivious, immersed in his work and music, leaving Jimin feeling even more isolated and broken.
Jimin tried to focus on the tasks at hand, but his mind often wandered back to the life he had left behind. The nightmares of his time with Jack haunted him, the physical and emotional scars a constant reminder of his suffering. He wanted to tell Yoongi everything, to share the truth of his pain, but the fear of being dismissed or rejected kept his lips sealed.
Days turned into weeks, and Jimin's heartache only deepened as he continued to serve Yoongi without any acknowledgment of their shared past. Each night, he cried himself to sleep, his body weary from the weight of his unspoken feelings and the memories of a love that felt so distant yet so close.
And in the depths of his loneliness, Jimin realized that no matter how much he tried to suppress his feelings, the love he had for Yoongi remained unbroken, even if it was now hidden behind a wall of hurt and misunderstanding.
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🥀 Love is pain 🥀 ' Junoon ❣️ ' ( ✓ )
FanfictionImagine being in a situation where you're forced to choose between your heart and your family's expectations. You're deeply in love with someone, but your family doesn't approve. They're so against it that they've already arranged your marriage to s...