XXXIII / Morning

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The next morning, the first thing I saw as I opened my eyes was Jimin's arm wrapped around my torso. His face was tucked into my shoulder and his body was curled into mine, his breath slowly spreading over my delicate skin. I took in a deep breath as I watched him, raising my hand to boop his little button nose. I smiled to myself, feeling mildly better after having let my emotions go last night, thanks to one stubborn man asleep beside me.

I threw the covers off my body and on to Jimin's, needing to wash my puffy face and fix up some coffee, but my plan of action was impeded when a strong hand grabbed my wrist and yanked me back down into the sheets.

I fell in with an 'oof' and my hair was all over my face and his.

"Next time you stay in bed and stare at me, try doing it a little quieter," Jimin breathed and snuggled into my side.

"I wasn't-" oh, what the hell, "I didn't say anything."

"Yeah, you didn't say anything very loudly," he whispered and his eyes fluttered open, inches from mine.

"We have work to go to," I informed him when he stayed like that, making no effort to get up.

"I missed this," he said softly, ignoring my statement completely.

"my sheets?" I joked and chuckled ad he smiled.

"And you, in them," he said and ran his knuckles along my jawline.

My breath caught in my throat.

A little meow sounded from the foot of the bed and I sprung out of the sheets.

"Hi, baby," I crouched down, scratching Chimmy behind her ear. She leaned into my touch and I smiled.

"you hungry?" I asked and she meowed again except Jimin answered from above as well.

"Yeah, I could eat."

I sat up and watched him slide out of bed.

"Then go make something. I'm gonna freshen up and feed this baby," I said and rose, Chimmy hot on my trail.

"What about this baby?" Jimin said and pointed to himself, pouting.

I narrowed my eyes and shook my head before I muttered "that's not my baby" and snuck into the bathroom.

I slipped into my robe as I stepped out of the washroom, immediately taken by the various smells of breakfast infiltrating my nostrils. I fastened the tie around my waist as I walked to the kitchen, greeted by the sight of Park Jimin pouring what I could only assume was tea into two mugs, and the sound of him singing softly to Chimmy. Chimmy stood near him, eating violently from her bowl as Jimin sang to her and watched her fondly.

"Please do not look at her why she eats. It makes her self-conscious," I came around and sat myself down on the kitchen counter.

"Oh, is that so? She really takes after her mother, then. Although I do really watching her mother eat," Jimin said and placed a plate of a sandwich of some kind before me. I stood up, reached across and grabbed a mug from in front of him.

"Eat first," he reprimanded and I shook my head, making my hair fall loosely around my face.

"By the way, you should know that Jungkook is terrified of you," Jimin stated, and leaned on the counter, eating an omelet on toast.

I blanched in response, "WHAT?"

Jimin chuckled.

"Yeah. Because of the fight we had the other day. Boy, he should not have been witness to that," Jimin shook his head, "now he's real scared of you."

"Are you for real?"

"Yes, absolutely."

"Jeon Jungkook?" Jimin nodded as I questioned, "The Golden Maknae?" he nodded again, "the muscle pig?" and again, "is afraid of me?"

He nodded vigorously now.

"Wow..." I breathed, taking in the information, "can't believe I have power over someone who I probably can't even take in a thumb fight."

"Yeah, but the non-physical fights you could..." Jimin nodded.

"Why in the world would I get into a non-physical fight with Jungkookie? He's the sweetest little bunny," I shook my head.

"I don't know," Jimin pursed his lips, "you get into non-physical fights with me all the time."

"Yeah, that's cause you're a jackass," I smiled all too sweetly and Jimin chuckled, running a hair through his hair.

"You shouldn't insult the person in charge of driving," he said, smirking and leaving his phone on the table to get his car keys.

"Good thing I'm not!" I yelled after him as I peeked into his phone, shamelessly ignoring the voice in my head telling me to stifle the urge.

I frowned assessively at the home screen on his phone.

To someone else it looked like a tasteful tumblr-y image of a woman engaged in cooking. Black and white- head to the side, hair falling over, lot of chest and neck.

But on deeper recollection, I recognized the photo.

It was me from one of the last nights we spent together, from almost 6 months ago. We had been arguing about the difference of content in white and brown eggs- and I had gotten a little too passionate in my quest for the truth.

I looked away from the screen as I heard him approach with car keys dangling from his fingers.

"What is it?" he said as he came back.

"Nothing..." I muttered, "nice home screen."

He smiled up at me, no shame or secret.

"I know. She's beautiful, isn't she?"

Oh, Park Jimin.

Out of Breath // pjm.Where stories live. Discover now