𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐫 𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐲 [𝐘𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐦𝐢𝐧 𝐟𝐟 ]

35. She is my--

JIMIN'S POV

I paused in my tracks when I saw her—the picture girl. The same girl. How can she be here? How can?

She was smiling and texting someone. 'Is she Yuna?' 
'Is she important to them?' 
'Why am I feeling like this?' 
'Should I ask her who she is to them? Who is she to Yoon?'

I almost decided to go and ask. But what would I ask? I don't even know the questions; how I suppos to find the answers?

She didn't notice me until now. She was lost in her own world. I took slow steps toward her.

'Why have I never seen her before?' 
'Why doesn't Yoon ever talk about her but keeps her picture?'

So many questions were swirling in my mind. Suddenly, I felt someone's hand on my shoulder, and I turned.

"What?" I asked.

"Jimin-ah, I’ve been looking for you for a long time! Why are you taking so much time?" Mom asked, and I couldn't reply.

"Mom... I..." I turned to see that girl. I widened my eyes because no one was there. Where had she gone?

"Mom... she?" I said, my eyes still on the spot where she had been standing.

"Who, Jimin? Who are you talking about?" Mom asked, and I didn't have an answer.

"No one, Mom... we should go back to shopping." Mom nodded. We walked toward the clothing section. Mom was picking out clothes, but my mind was focused entirely on that girl.

'Where did she go in just the blink of an eye?'

I was tapping my foot continuously. I had never felt like this before. I had never felt this disturbed.

"Jimin, are you okay?" Mom asked, and I nodded.

Soon, we were done with shopping. I drove back, my mind still on the same thing. I wished I could talk to her.

Me and mom came home. She was happy after shopping, but I was still lost in thoughts.

"Jimin, now go take a rest," I nodded at her words and went inside my bedroom, I mean our bedroom.

I saw him lying lazily on the bed, shirtless. He was scrolling through his phone or texting someone? Why was I even caring?

I walked inside, earning his attention. He looked at me like he wanted to ask something. "Jimin-ah," he called, but before he could finish, I entered the washroom to change into comfortable clothes.

'Why am I even angry? Why after seeing that girl?'

I came outside and found him already looking at me. Now he was in a t-shirt.

"I was asking something, Jimin-ah," he said, walking toward me.

"What?" I asked coldly.

"Where were you?" His voice almost sounded like a whine.