{h} the butterfly effect : bts gang au

IX.

I wake up to Jimin pulling me out of his car and lifting me into his arms. Too drowsy to intervene with the close proximity, I wrap my arms around his neck. He closes the door with his foot and walks up the stairs to a door. I look in front of me and see white fairy lights strung on the whispering trees and a garden full of an array of flowers.

"You're lucky you aren't heavy," he chuckles, pulling the key from his pocket quickly, unlocks the door, and sets me down on a puffy leather couch before going back to close the door. He then walks down a hallway and into a room briefly before emerging with a first aid kit and a pair of his basketball shorts.

"I need to clean your knees, but you gotta, um, change first so I can, uh, get to it," he stutters. "I don't want you moving around too much so I'll step into the other room and just call to me when you're done."

He steps off into what I assume is his kitchen and I awkwardly pull down my jeans right in the middle of his living area. The blood that is still dripping from my knees makes it slightly difficult to pull my sticky jeans down, but I manage and I slip on his shorts; they are too big on me.

"You're good," I call to him and not even three seconds after, he strides in with two water bottles and a washcloth. He squats in front of me once again and pulls out Neosporin and bandages. Jimin brings my left leg to stretch and rest on his thigh. He then pours some of the cold water on the cuts to wash the blood away and it causes it to burn slightly. I hiss between my teeth, but he quickly applies the antibiotic cream, wraps the bandage around my knee, and does the same to my other knee.

"How's your head?" He asks, pulling my leg off of his and looking straight into my eyes. His fading orange hair is sprawled across his forehead and he licks his plump lips, waiting for a response from me.

"It hurts," I reply honestly. "I can actually see now, but upon impact and shortly after, it was all blurry."

He hums in response, grabbing his phone and flashing his flashlight in my eyes. I wince at the brightness, but I knew he was checking my pupils for a concussion.

"You don't have a concussion, but I would definitely take it easy for a bit. I'm sorry, it's my fault you hit your head. I was driving down the road to meet you at the cafe when I saw him put a bag over your head and I couldn't help but shove him off of you, but I also shoved you as well and I'm sorry." He fiddles with the supplies in the first aid kit before grabbing the damp washcloth and holding it in front of my face. "I'm going to clean your lip."

"He punched me," I sigh, leaning forward a bit to allow him to wipe off the blood and to clean the split in my lip. Jimin places his hand under my chin and I slightly shudder at his touch. His face isn't too far from mine as he concentrates, causing me to look at his skin that is glowing in the lamp light. I feel my heart skipping beats and flower petals drift around in my stomach at the closeness of Jimin and I. He's quite handsome, I'm not going to lie. His plump cheeks give him a sense of youth despite being an adult, but his eyes are hard and stricken with life experiences that I have yet to encounter. He leans away as he finishes and I quickly talk to finish the silence. "Do you know who that was?"

"Unfortunately, no and that's a problem, but I am pretty sure he was apart of whoever was talking about you on our monitors," he sighs, packing up the kit.

"Why were they talking about me?" I ask another question.

"We don't know for sure, but I told you that it's dangerous to even know us. It's dangerous to even speak of us and I'm so sorry that this is all happening so quickly." He runs his hands through his hair before standing up, sitting beside me on the couch, and pulling his boots off his feet.

"If anything, it's my fault. I saw you guys that night and wanted to know more. I was nosy when I shouldn't have been," I say, trying to calm his nerves. I can tell by his frustrated gaze that it didn't help whatsoever. I try changing the subject, "Why didn't you kill him?"

He chuckles lightly, "I was so close to doing it; when I saw him put that bag over your head I was seeing red. I was ready to kill him, but it wasn't a mission and I wouldn't have anyway of quickly removing his body and then that would definitely cause some problems."

I don't say anything in response for a second as I quickly analyze what he said. "Why would you kill him?"

"Because he was going to hurt you," he says without hesitation. My heart jumps into my throat as he says that, but it falls back down almost in disappointment when he finishes his response. "And I'm not okay with anyone hurting innocent people."

I admire that about him; he was ready to protect anyone at anytime. But for some reason, I thought he was going to make it personal. A part of me wishes that we made it personal, but I guess he just isn't the type to do that.

At this moment, I realize that I have some sort of attraction to Jimin. He's bold and brave, but he's also dangerous. I know he wouldn't put me or anyone else in danger, but his lifestyle is dangerous. He's beautiful and charming. He came off as cocky the first time I met him, but he really is a soft guy who does what he does for a purpose. It isn't to just kill people because he feels like it, it isn't to blow off steam, it's to protect people. It's to protect innocent people from things like this.

"I will protect you, Hana. We all will. Whether you like it or not, you and Jae are gradually getting involved and we will do everything in our power to keep you out of it."

I slightly smile, "Thank you, Jimin. But you're not going to be there every moment of the day. If anything like this happens again, I want to be able to protect myself. I don't want to be helpless."

He thinks for a moment, his tongue slightly peaking out of the corner of his mouth. "I can teach you self defense if you'd like, but not until you're feeling better."

For some reason, I feel a rush of confidence run through me. I get up off the couch and move around a bit, and he watches me with confused eyes. The skin on my knees burn and my head thumps slightly, but I teasingly hold my fists in a defensive position.

"That's definitely not how you do it," he rolls his eyes, getting up off the couch. "And you're definitely going to have to start lifting some weights if you're going to fight off bad guys."

He grabs my arms by my elbows and lifts them up slightly more on an angle so they cover my face. "Always block your head, if they get one good shot at you, you'll be down in seconds."

I pretend to take a shot at his chest but before I make contact, he grabs my fist and nicely twists my arm behind my back. I am held there for a moment and I realize that I like having physical contact with him. He releases me and I turn around to see him smiling, his crescent eyes nearly closed with amusement.

"Let's wait until you have equipment on before you take shots at me, alright?"