Prude Secret • Jikook

6 • Bite The Bullet

"Train comes, I don't know its destination...
It's a one-way ticket to a madman situation..."

Warning: Harassment 

Jimin's POV

"Ahh!-" I squeaked by the sudden jerk of my right arm - it was so strong that I stumbled and fell. My upper body didn't impact on the tiled floor as the person who pulled me was still clenching my wrist. His grip was tight. I was so confused about what was going on so I looked up to see who it was.

A sharp gasp audibly struck my throat when I realized it was Jeon Jungkook. My face instantly grimaced and I felt like my blood left my head while looking at him. He had that serious expression of his but with gritting teeth.

Before I could look around to recognize where we were, I realized that my face was at his crotch level. I immediately moved my head away as far as possible, then I hid my flushed, awkward face because of how embarrassing it was. Gee! Why do I keep getting into mortifying situations today? And it's only afternoon!

"I-I'm sorry J-Jungkook I'm late I-" I didn't get to complete my explanation when he forcefully dragged me up by the wrist. I whimpered because of the pain - it was vigorous enough to hurt me. I wanted to ask him if he could be careful with me because I have an injury, but his expression showed he wouldn't be having it. He was worryingly silent but his eyes, which were filled with resentment, screamed louder than bombs.

My knees began to shake as he was looking angrier than yesterday. I was stunned, tongue-tied. It was so hard to look at his face - he seemed like he would snap and slap my whole existence at any moment. I pursed my quivering lips and closed my eyes as I was so close to crying. I wondered if I'd still be able to see the sun before my naked eyes the next day .

While I was mentally praying for my life, I felt his arm snake around my waist and he swiftly carried me at a fast rate as if he was just clutching a laptop to his chest. My anxiety rose, too afraid to know what was coming. I barely realized he took us inside the art room because of the dizzy sensation I felt while he was manhandling me.

If I hadn't made him wait, this wouldn't have been happening. But do I deserve this treatment? Did he have to act this way? Was making him wait similar to signing in for a suicide mission? Did I do anything else to make him so mad?

I remained with my head lowered even when he set me down. I just couldn't face him. I'm too cowardly to face his silent wrath. I laid my back onto the wall and I put my shaking hands against my chest. I continuously mumbled 'Sorry, I hope you could forgive me' even though my voice sounded very weak.

He seemed to be more into heeding about the fact that he finally had me cornered, thus my sincere apologies couldn't get more of his attention, however desperate I could be that he would hear me out.

On each step that he took towards me, I got more and more paralyzed with intensifying levels of panic (attacks). It was so slow, the time between us ran so slow. The cold of the room temperature started crawling up my skin, while fire in my lungs started spreading. The more silent he stayed, the harder it got to breathe.

"So - fucking - irritating," he spat with heavy emphasis on each word while his hard and burning stares scrutinized the approaching silver tears in my eyes. And that's when I realized, I couldn't hold my tears anymore.

Was I making him irritated?

While I was mumbling my apologies, another wave of distress came through my flesh when I felt his huge palms vigorously cupped my face. I let out a high pitched whimper in shock. The hammering in my chest intensified.