Out of Breath // pjm.

XXXII / Stay With Me

[Third Person POV]

Tara sat demurely at the kitchen table, her foot tapping itself mechanically, restless and loud. The last of her reserve was running out and she didn't know what to do. She didn't think she would get leave again, and she couldn't just take off. But she was worried.

She asked her father to wait. She wasn't religious but she prayed for him every day. And now there he was, acting like he was done. She needed to do something, but she didn't know what. Ignoring the continuous gnawing in her stomach, she continued to occupy herself with every little detail associated with work. She took Jimin's advice, diving deep into her abandoned ideas folder. She found something usable and worked tirelessly on perfecting every single nuance of it.

When the doorbell rang, she sighed in relief at the welcome distraction. Her muscles had all stiffened up from the constant barrage of stress.

Messing up her hair she strode lazily to the door, ignoring the soft meows from the living room, swinging it open to find a poker-faced Jimin standing out, smelling like Chinese food.

He handed one bag to her slipped into the house.

What has he heard?

He walked confidently to the kitchen counter and started pulling the little white boxes out, sitting himself down and watching her take a second to approach him. she placed the second bag on the table and adjusted her tight white camisole. Jimin eyes ran over her neck and collarbones as she sat down across him.

"What is this? You trying to make me fat now, too?"

"I'm trying to get some food in you since you've probably not eaten today. I know how you get," he shrugged and touched some of the folders on the table as a gesture.

"My appetite is hiding. I don't think Wang's can find it either," Tara shrugged and fiddled with the necklace on her chest.

His heart burned at the statement. He had always known what a poor eater she was. What and how much she ate seemed to be directly related to how she felt- and lately every time he saw her she looked smaller and thinner. He could only imagine why. In the months they had been together he had soundlessly attempted to tackle it, and it had seemed to work then.

Jimin had been attracted to her since the first day he had seen her- he had been confused by this- and so began their tumultuous relationship.

"Earlier..." Jimin began, "I asked what happened. Why you broke up with..." he looked for the name but he didn't know it, "him."

Tara shook her head.

"If this whole thing with Hana was fake... why did she keep coming by the building? There was no need for that," Tara asked, ignoring Jimin's question yet again.

"Because she didn't want it to be fake," Jimin admitted, huffing, "and stop avoiding my question, Tara," he flattened his palms on the table.

Tara sighed.

"What?" Jimin asked, seeking her face, "what's wrong?"

"My dad is sick again."

"Oh..." Jimin chose his words carefully, "is it serious?"

Tara laughed, cold and dry, "I don't know but the man is writing his fucking will."

Delicately, Jimin opened one of the food boxes and pushed it toward Tara.

"Here, eat."

"Aren't you going to ask how I'm doing?" she snapped, "if I'm okay?"

"Do you need me to ask? If you do, I will," he said, mindfully. She was on edge, he had to be cautious.

"What's the point?" she shrugged, "fuck it," she said, rising up, pushing the food and him away.

"Where do you think you're going?" he called from his place as she turned away and began walking.

"To my bedroom. You can see yourself out," she said, evidently annoyed.

"No, you're not," he said and stood up, "come here."

"What the fuck," she laughed, humorlessly, "no."

"Come here or so help you god, Tara," he demanded.

"What the fuck do you want, Jimin?" she snapped, running her hands through her hair, frustrated.

"I want to fucking worry about you! Openly! Not secretly, not anymore. Let me worry about you," he pranced toward her, "let me look after you. Let me be here for you, Tara... why won't you?"

"Because I don't need it," she shook her head and stated firmly.

"I know you don't need it," he whispered and drew closer, "but do you want it? Do you want even a small fraction of how much I want it? Because I..." he took her face in his hands, eyes boring into hers as she felt his soft warm breath against her skin, "I want it so fucking much."

Her eyes darted wildly between his as her chest heaved in response to the contact. Gently, he lowered his face to hers, his lips a single breath away from where they had been wanting to be for oh so long. He lingered for a moment, giving her the chance to pull away, if so she desired.

The instant he saw her eyes flutter shut, his lips crashed down against hers. She held on tightly to his forearms, her feet swaying- taken aback from the rush she felt erupting inside of her. Her lips molded into his as their mouths moved in swift synchronization. He kissed her hungrily, making up for every time he wanted to but had to hold himself back. She responded identically, sliding her hands upward and clasping them around his neck, feeling every inch of his soft, pale skin. He wrapped one arm around her waist, holding her flush against him, wanting her to melt into him.

Overcome by a multitude of feelings, her knees gave way and she pulled away, falling against him. Jimin held on to her tight as he felt her weight shift completely onto him, crashing into his chest. He held her up by her arms, staying close. He felt her body tremble in his before he heard her sob or saw her tears, and pulled her into an embrace. She stayed limp against him, letting him support her entire body. The warmth from his body urged her to let go of everything inside her and she did.

Tara began sobbing, hysterically at first, and Jimin did nothing but hold her firm- arms around her as she buried her face in his chest and cried. He lifted her up gently and she curled further into him as he carried her into the bedroom, lying down with her. She stroked her hair as her sobs got softer and smaller, her body soon giving up. She relaxed against him, her breathing now stable and rhythmic as she fell asleep in his embrace unknowingly.

Jimin kept one arm around her and he ran his fingers across her tear-stained cheeks, absorbing the degree of sadness she had held suppressed inside her. He gulped, holding back his own tears as he pulled her in closer to him, curling up against her and resting his cheek on the top of her head.

I won't let it happen again.

I won't let you be sad again.