🥀 Love is pain 🥀 ' Junoon ❣️ ' ( ✓ )

56.

The following days were a blur of pain and exhaustion for Jimin. He moved through the mansion like a ghost, performing his duties with mechanical precision, but inside, he felt utterly broken. The weight of Yoongi’s anger hung over him, and the life inside him was the only thing keeping him from collapsing completely.

Yoongi had returned to his usual cold, professional demeanor, treating Jimin like any other servant. Every interaction was short, clipped, and devoid of any warmth. Jimin could see the pain in Yoongi’s eyes, even though he tried to hide it behind his harsh words. But it didn’t change the fact that every time they crossed paths, Yoongi seemed to grow more distant, more unreachable.

Jimin worked in silence, avoiding eye contact with Yoongi whenever possible. He felt sick to his core, his body aching with both the physical strain of his pregnancy and the emotional torment of being near the man he loved but could never have. His mornings started early, and his nights were filled with nightmares, reliving the moments when Yoongi had been so close to him, only to push him away.

One evening, after a particularly long day, Jimin sat in his small room, rubbing his swollen belly, tears silently rolling down his cheeks. He spoke softly to the baby, trying to keep his voice steady.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his fingers tracing gentle circles over his stomach. “I know this isn’t the life you deserve. But I’ll protect you. I won’t let him take you away.”

The fear of Jack finding him again was a constant shadow, always lurking in the back of Jimin’s mind. Jack had already killed two of his unborn children, and Jimin knew he wouldn’t hesitate to do it again. He couldn’t let that happen. This baby was all he had left, the only piece of light in his otherwise dark world.

But the pain of Yoongi’s indifference made it harder each day. Jimin found himself struggling to breathe whenever Yoongi walked past without a second glance, or when his voice was sharp with orders instead of the gentle warmth it once held.

The nights were the worst. Alone in his room, Jimin often found himself crying into his pillow, wishing he could go back to when everything had been simpler, before Jack, before the pain, before the endless cycle of suffering. But those days were gone, and he knew there was no way to bring them back.

One particularly cold night, Jimin lay in bed, curled into a ball, clutching his stomach as the baby kicked softly. He whispered to the unborn child again, his voice trembling with emotion.

“He doesn’t know,” Jimin murmured, his heart aching. “Yoongi doesn’t know about you. If he did… maybe things would be different. But I can’t tell him. I can’t let him know what I’ve become.”

A sob escaped him, and Jimin buried his face in his hands. The pain of being so close to Yoongi, yet so far from him, was unbearable. Every part of him wanted to reach out, to explain everything, but he knew it wouldn’t change anything. Yoongi hated him now, and Jimin couldn’t bear the thought of facing even more rejection.

As the night dragged on, Jimin cried himself to sleep once again, his body trembling with exhaustion. His heart ached for the life he had lost, for the love that was now out of reach, and for the future that seemed so uncertain.

Meanwhile, Yoongi sat in his office, a drink in his hand, staring out at the night sky. His mind was a mess of conflicting emotions—anger, confusion, and something deeper that he didn’t want to name. He couldn’t stop thinking about Jimin, about the pain in his eyes, and the way he had begged for him to stop that night in his room. Something didn’t add up, but Yoongi was too consumed by his own bitterness to figure it out.

He took another sip of his drink, trying to push the thoughts away, but they clung to him like shadows. In the silence of the mansion, both Yoongi and Jimin lay awake, lost in their own worlds of pain, with no way to bridge the chasm between them.