Hummingbird (jikook/kookmin)

1

Rating: Explicit

The door slams, reverberating against every wall of the house. She gasps, eyes wide in terror as she hugs him tightly, pressing her hands against his ears to block out his father's drunken, degrading spews.

"Come out here bitch! I know you're here! Where's my fucken' dinner!"

It never works, Jimin always hears it. Every word, every curse and he hates it, he hates this man— this man whose bright smiles and crinkled eyes no longer exist after all the violence he had seen from his years of combat.

He knew it wasn't his father's fault yet he couldn't control his contempt for the man. The big, burly man who once gave the best hugs and smiles, is now replaced by this man who did nothing but beat his mother to a bloody pulp and snarl with sharp, angry eyes, and alcohol-filled breath.

Jimin hated his father with a passion. He hated that whenever he looked into his father's eyes he saw his own.

"Sh... sh don't cry he'll hear us don't—"

He hated that he could do nothing but watch and cry as his father pulled his mother out of the closet and beat her black and blue.

"Mom! No stop! Don't—Dad! Stop! Stop hitting her!" He'd scream and sob however his father would never stop.

And he'd always blame himself for her getting caught.

"This is how you teach a whore a lesson son!" His father would sneer as he punched her repeatedly.

And when it was over all Jimin could do as his mother lay on the floor shaking and gasping for air through her cries and bloody limbs was hold her hand and push her hair out her face as he reassured her shakily, "It'll be okay mom. It'll be okay."

He always told her that, even when he knew it wouldn't be. At only six, with tears streaming down his chubby cheeks, he knew that things weren't okay.

His father wasn't supposed to be doing this and he knew that yet, he couldn't do anything to stop the man.

Nothing to make things change, nothing to make things better, and therefore, as Jimin got older things, unsurprisingly, only got worse.

He'd come home from school to the sounds of glass crashing, banging, and his mother's screams which at this point had sadly become normal.

Seeing his mother all bloody and bruised on the floor became normal. He could do nothing but try and comfort her in the best way he knew, holding her hand tightly as she cried and cried, telling him how much she loved him as if she thought it would be her last words.

His father strangely never took his anger out on him. Instead, he'd come and pull him out from wherever he was hiding, all small palms closed over his ear and eyes clenched to block out the sounds of his mom screaming and the banging against the wall.

He'd always whisper, "I'm not crazy, son. I'm not crazy. Please don't think I'm crazy," as he held Jimin tightly and caressed his dark hair, his eyes squeezed shut as if trying to believe his own words.

Jimin could do nothing but nod and cry, absolutely petrified in those moments.

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