𝙐𝙣𝙚𝙭𝙥𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙇𝙤𝙫𝙚 ❤ (𝙹𝚒𝚔𝚘𝚘𝚔 💜)

14) Bruises Don't Always Show

Jimin’s POV

The clock had just struck midnight when I returned to the hospital.

My feet ached, my fingers smelled faintly of espresso, and my back felt like it had carried the weight of the world across twelve hours.

I just wanted to sneak back to the staff rest area, rinse my face, and lie down. Not sleep—my mind wouldn't allow that—but just… exist in silence.

But of course, fate had other plans.

As I turned the corridor, I collided into someone firm. A sharp, irritated breath hit the air before I even looked up.

Of course.

Jeon Jungkook.

“Out wandering again, are we?”

I froze.

That voice.

That sharp, cold voice I was beginning to dread like a storm.

“What, no witty comebacks today?” he continued, stepping toward me. “I guess midnight strolls are more important than academic responsibilities. No wonder your thesis didn’t get through.”

My chest tightened, but I kept my lips sealed.

He didn’t know.

He didn’t know I had just spent seven hours working nonstop in a café, taking orders, wiping tables, and counting tips that barely added up to a meal.

But I didn’t owe him an explanation.

“You always seem to be laughing or smiling at the wrong time,” Jungkook scoffed. “No sense of seriousness, no discipline. Just floating through life like it’s a daydream. That’s not how the world works, Jimin.”

I felt the sting of his words, but I still stayed quiet.

“You help my grandfather now like you're some saint,” he said, voice now dipped in bitterness. “Let me guess — just repaying the favor for when I stood up for you in class? How poetic.”

It was too much.

The venom in his tone. The assumptions. The lack of understanding. And yet, I couldn’t bring myself to speak back. My throat felt too tight. My pride too thin.

Because no matter how much I wanted to defend myself, I knew — anything I’d say would sound like an excuse.

And I was tired of explaining myself to people who had already made up their minds about me.

So I gave him a look — tired, quiet, unreadable — and walked away without saying a word.

No sass. No spark. Just silence.

And somehow, that silence hurt even more than any insult ever could.

.

.

.

Jungkook’s POV

I don’t know what I expected him to do.

Snap back like he always does? Roll his eyes? Call me a self-righteous prick and storm off like the dramatic little mess he is?

But not this.
Not silence.
Not that… expression.

Jimin didn’t even flinch when I tore into him.

He didn’t explain. Didn’t scoff. Didn’t blink.

Just stood there — tired, quiet, and… empty.

And then he walked away.

Without a word.