His Flower || UNDERGOING EDITING

Chim Chim

I decided to change it up a bit and do a chapter from Jimin's P.O.V. Hope you guys are enjoying it so far :3

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* Jimin's P.O.V *

At first I was afraid when Ara fell and didn't move. Her frail body just laid there helpless and sobbing. All I heard was her saying it was her fault. Her fault for what? Did she mess up in her routine? I mean there were some things that could be cleaned up but not to cry over.

I put my thoughts to the side and dealt with the scene at hand. As I kneel down to her I calm her and rub circles in her back. Just how my mother used to calm me down.

I seem to be doing a good job. Her breathing is slowing and her cheeks also don't look as wet. I occasionally sneak a look at her right cheek to get a better look at the bruise put on it. It looks like it was recent because it's still a little red.

I get caught up in look at her face that I don't realize her breathing is starting to pick back up and she mumbles to herself again.

"My fault...all, mine, my, fault." Her cries sound broken and painful. I try pulling her into a hug and letting her cry on my shoulder.

"Why are you doing this?" She asks me with a hoarse voice from crying so much.

Why am I doing this?

Normally I don't do this for someone I just met but I think she's an exception. Granted she did stalk me and follow me to this place. But she's not like the girls at the university that swoon and follow me around asking me for my number. She's different.

"Lets just say I have my own faults. And I know that we shouldn't beat ourselves up over something that we cannot control." I look at her face to see her response. She looks confused but they seemed to be the words that she needed to hear.

"Well, umm thanks I guess?" Ara's face turns to a smile as she wipes her tears form her eyes and she looks at her hands as if she's embarrassed. My arms rest on her shoulders as I let go of our hug.

"You good?" My lips come up to form a smile and that seems to make her smile.

"Yeah. I'm good." She wipes her hands on her legs and stands to get up. While walking to pick up her bag, I notice how small she is. Not just small in a fit since but also small in her weight. Her muscles are noticeable and her figure is fit but she looks underweight.

"How did you get that bruise on your cheek?" I stand up from the cold floor and walk toward her.

"It's a long story." She tries to grab her bag and walk out the door but before she can pick up her bag I take it. "Hey!"

"The bruise. How?" Determined to know the answer I ask her again hold her bag in my hand. She tries to grab it from my grip but fails when I hold it in the air.

"Give me my bag you pabo." She tries to jump to reach it however her jump is a little to short.

"I'm the pabo? Really?" I stare at her in frustration. I just sat here with her on the floor and let her ball her eyes out on her shoulder.

"You really want to know?" Ara's eyes are full of frustration. I nod my head eagerly. "Long story short, I got into an argument with my mom and let's just say we didn't see eye to eye."

My eyes are frozen on her face and I can't even begin to understand why someone would hit someone so...so sweet.

Buzz Buzz.

Ara pulls her phone out of her back pocket and checks the caller. I didn't think it was possible but her face got more annoyed.

"Speak of the devil." She mumbles underneath her breath. Letting out a sigh, she silences her phone and shoves it into her back pocket.

"Can I have my bag now?" Her hips are cocked to one side with her hand on her hip and she looks serious.

I lower my arm and extend it out with her bag in my grip. She snatches it and heads straight for the door. Her hair flows behind her as she walks out of the studio into the lobby of the building.

Before she opens the door I quickly make my way to her and grab her wrist. Ara turns around to face me and gives her full attention to what I'm about to say.

"Where are you going?" My eyes furrow.

"Back home. I have to go back sometime and face the wrath of my mother." She then whips her head towards the door and walks out briskly.

Standing in the door way I realized that I had blushed when I grabbed her wrist. I shake the feeling in my head away. But the more I push the thoughts away the stronger they come back.

After picking up my jacket and phone I start the walk to my house. The street lights have turned on and illuminated the road with a yellow and orange tint. Smoke comes out of the alley ways and guys gather on the street corners.

The farther I walk the closer I get to my house and the farther I get from the sketchy part of town. I walk up to my house and stop on the front porch looking at the brown wooden door. A grey truck is parked in the driveway. My parents are home for the first time in weeks.

They usually go on long business trips and leave me at home to deal with school. I give a groan and walk in the door. I throw my jacket on the back of the couch, walking toward the kitchen. A familiar figure sits in a chair at the round kitchen table with a newspaper in his hands.

"Where were you?" He asks adjusting the glasses on his nose, not looking up from his paper.

"Hello to you to dad." I grab a bottle of water from the fridge.

"You shouldn't be out this late."

"Why do you care? You leave me by myself for months." I avoid his eyes and start to walk out of the kitchen.

"You know," He sets his paper down and takes his glasses off, "your grades are dropping."

I turn and walk back to him.

"I'm getting them back up." Here we go again.

"You should come work for me in the company and stop that hip-hop junk." Venom and hatred lace the word hip-hop. "You'll never find a stable job. Who wants a boy that just hops around on stage?" He's laughing now.

My blood starts to boil but I try to suppress the anger. "Dad, dancing is the one thing that I'm good at. And the one thing that I love."

"Your dreams are childish and won't get you anywhere in life."

"But they're mine. Stop trying to mold me into you and mom! It's really ironic how you try to control my life when you're barley even in it!" I can't hold my thoughts inside anymore.

"You and mom are always traveling around on your jobs and when you come home I don't even get a hi or a hello. You know, a text message or a call every now and then while you're gone would be amazing. You have no idea how hard it is to not have someone to ask questions to or ask advice." I'm yelling at my father now with a red face.

After I've said my peace I walk up the stairs and head to my room. But before I lock myself in my cave I go by my mother's room and say hello. She's underneath the covers and engulfed in a book.

"Hey mom." I welcome her home with a warm smile.

"Hey Chim Chim." The childhood nickname haunts me and I laugh at her comment. She sets down her book and opens her arms out for a hug.

"Are you and dad okay? I heard the argument."

"Yeah, just the usual: I try to leave calmly and then he tries to control my life." My mom gives a sympathetic smile. We chat for a few minutes about what she did when she was gone and then I head off to sleep.

My dreams are filled with a beautiful dancing girl.