Save Me (ReaderXBts)(readerXJin)

"Tell Me Your Story."

"Period? I don't want to go. Just please be a murderer." You mumbled and tried to plant your feet on the ground.

"The only way I'll kill you is with my looks." He smiled, but it quickly faded as he wiped your wet cheeks. "Now, we're going to get your hand fixed. There isn't a choice. Afterwards, we're going to eat so you can tell me your story."

You figured you might as well stop fighting it and followed him instead.

        He stood by the entrance and pointed towards the inside, "I can't really go in there, but go get that bandaged and I'll be waiting."

Not arguing, you made your way inside and signed up so they could call your name. It was pretty empty, so you heard your name soon after you sat down. What wasn't a quick process was when the doctor had to pull out the pieces of glass from your palm and cleansed it. It felt painfully long.
"You okay?" He asked, you nodded.
"It looks like you're upset, were you abused? Got into a fight?"
You didn't respond and bowed slightly, "thank you."

   "How'd it go?" Jin asked as soon as you walked out.
You only raised your bandaged hand in response.
"Good."
You followed him, fidgeting with your bandages as the walk was awkward. He tried making conversation but neither of you could hold it up.

He sat down, his smile quickly fading again. He smacked his forehead with his palm, "sorry."
You sat down in front of him. "What?"
"I was supposed to pull your chair for you, like a gentleman."
Gentleman. . .
"It's fine."
He nodded. "So, sushi? I'm paying, don't worry. Order what you'd like, I'm sure you deserve it."
"I can't really. I'm trying to go through with my diet this time." You mumbled, a bit embarrassed.
"Oh. I have a friend who tries his best to stay fit. It saddens me to see him look in the mirror and call himself fat. It's unhealthy, you should eat," he urged. "Nutrients!"
You shook your head, "it's also unhealthy to be like me."
"You're not that big, you're exaggerating. Being like you are just means you're more huggable."
You didn't know how to respond, so you didn't.

He let out a small sigh, giving up and ordered before placing his hands on his laps from what you could tell. "Tell me your story."
"It's boring, you don't want to hear it."
"Wish you would've told me before I invited you."
Before you had a chance to open your mouth, he apologized, giggling a bit.
"I was just kidding. Tell me, tell me."
"I, uh. . . I live with my mother, and her alone, because my father left us. She blames me for his absence but she knows he left because of her; an alcoholic whore, someone not suitable for a decent man like him. I was only 9 when he. . . When he disappeared. Ever since, I've grown up, often seeing many different men come and leave our house; more often my mother coming late, intoxicated. Tonight was one of those nights. She came home, her clothes, her hair, her makeup, all a mess. Even though, she still poured herself her usual glass of red wine." You forced out your words, your hair covering any sight of your eyes gleaming with tears as your head hung low. You heard Jin sigh quietly in pity. "Go on, please."
"Again, she pushed the fault on me, and finally. . . I snapped. I called her a whore. I. . . I told her my dad left because of her, not me. Her wine glass hit the floor. In response to my profane statement, she slapped me. I was warned and told to clean the mess of the glass."

You finally looked up the stranger, Jin. He was looking at his food like he'd lost his appetite. You felt at fault. "Are you sure you want me to continue?"

"Your mother. . . She's a piece of work." He shook his head and pushed his plate aside.

"Isn't she?" You wiped your eyes quickly and let out a small sniff. "When I was picking up the glass, I started thinking about my father. Thinking how happy he must be, glad to have left my mother. . . But I also thought, why couldn't he have taken me with him? I started to question myself and ended up squeezing the glass pieces out of anger and sadness."

Jin made a soft sound of realization and looked at your hand, you could see he was tearing up a bit in sympathy.

"I didn't want to hurt myself with her mess, so I left the house and the rest, I'm sure you saw how I broke down on the street-side. . . Whatever more is of my story I didn't include, is what you don't need to know."

His thoughts were bouncing, he wanted to ask so many questions but couldn't find the words.
"Come stay with us for a bit. Just at the studio. I don't want you to go back, yet. You obviously don't want to see your mother tonight."
"Us? Studio?"
"I'm taking this to-go." Jin called out, ignoring you.
"The guys won't mind one guest," Jin said as he gently grasped your sleeve again and made you stand so he could pull you.

"Who is us?"

Still no answer. He just kept of tugging you.

Upon arrival to the building he knew, his hand had moved to hold your wrist gently, making you uneasy for some reason. Maybe because having that boy simply hold your wrist gave you butterflies? Somehow. Then again, anyone could make you an awkward, nervous mess just by saying, 'hi.' 
     When he opened the door of the room, music blared out. You peeked inside to see 6 well-looking guys, dancing.