|..jimin..|
He didn't realize he was already back in reality when he opened his eyes. It was still dark, but slits of blue light lined the corner of the room, casting a small amount of light on his surroundings.
And, also, that wasn't all.
Jimin had arms around him.
So there he was, in the blue darkness, crying his heart out, whimpering a name so gently only he could hear it, while holding onto a person whose identity he didn't even know. It went on for ages, his tears never once lessening, his sobs never quieting.
"Jiminie, why are you crying?"
The voice was ever so familiar, sending sparks down his spine, warming his body immediately. He held on even tighter, and through sobs, he looked up from the person's chest, meeting their face.
Yoongi?
Dark eyes and black hair confirmed his thoughts, and for once, black wasn't such an evil color to him. He had to refrain himself from letting out a "Yoongi?" and breaking his promise, a promise that he had kept for years. He wasn't going to let some boy he just met a few mornings ago shatter his world.
"Jiminie," Yoongi said, and the nickname melted Jimin's frozen heart. "Do you remember last night?"
Jimin's eyes widened, and he was sure his whole face went red. What was Yoongi referring to? Did he do anything bad last night? Did he...
"Do you remember the alley?"
Alley?
Jimin caught glimpses out faces that he didn't recognize, and then shook his head.
"You were out doing stupid shit in a fucking alley, Jimin, a cliché fucking alley, how do you not remember? You messaged me to come help you in the middle of my date so I had to bail on Hoseok and come after your ass. And there were some kids that were hurting you. Do you really not remember?"
It sounded more familiar now, but Jimin could only remember feeling panic and then followed by immense happiness. Two feelings that were polar opposites, but blended well in Jimin's blank mind.
Yoongi reached up to Jimin's neck, fingers tracing his skin, and Jimin held his breath until there was a jolt of pain. Jimin practically jumped back, flattening himself against the headboard. He raised his hand to his neck, looking at Yoongi with a fearful expression on his face.
"Jimin, do you not remember the three kids that were hurting you?" Even in the dark, Jimin could tell there was sad written on Yoongi's face. "I had to scare them off for you, punk. And then I had to carry you off the bus because you fell asleep. Seriously, how the fuck did you forget something like this? Were you fucking drunk out of your mind?"
Jimin didn't know how disappointed Yoongi was. Yoongi wanted Jimin to remember the night before. He wanted Jimin to remember falling asleep on his shoulder, or how they held each other on that alley floor. He wanted Jimin to remember grabbing his hand on that bus. But of course, people didn't always get what they wanted.
Maybe it was for the best. Maybe it meant Yoongi should stay with Hoseok.
The light went on overhead, and Jimin saw Yoongi standing by the door, fingers on the switch. Sadness lingered on his face, and Jimin felt gutted. What did he do that made Yoongi look that way?
He watched the older walk into the bathroom across the hallway, and returned with a mirror.
"Take off my sweater," he instructed, and a pink-faced Jimin removed the article of clothing, tossing it down on the bed beside him, and cold flushed across his exposed skin. There were rips that weren't there when he put on the shirt the day before, and he started recollecting memories.
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orange | yoonmin ✔️
Fanfictiona childhood incident leaves park jimin mute. that is, until a loud-mouthed boy cursed at him in a supermarket one morning due to an alarm failure. or, how a couple of oranges and...