TW || THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS SELF HARM TALK AND ED TALK. CONTINUE AT YOUR OWN RISK.
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Jimin sat at the rounded grey table in the blank white dining room. He couldn't lift his eyes from off his plate. Some people don't understand that the food doesn't tempt him, it scares him. Having Hoseok bawl out in the hallway this morning wasn't helping either. He hasn't seen Hoseok since but he also hasn't seen any nurses going into the public room unit. He thought that they would've checked on Hoseok just once but they never have.
"Hello." Jimin jumped slightly and whipped his head up from his plate in the direction of the small voice. The voice was coming from a boy who smiled at Jimin welcomingly showing his deep dimples. Jimin raised his hand hesitantly and waved at the dimpled boy. The figure sitting across the table changed his expression abruptly to a confused look, bushing his eyebrows together. Jimin followed his eyes and found himself looking at his own scars on his skinny wrist. He folded his hands uncomfortably hiding his arm from the boy. His scars were from years of cutting. Some were raised, some were bloodshot red, some were crossed and some were parallel, some were just barely holding a zigzag shape by the small skin scaring over his wounds.
Namjoon looked at Jimin's squirming body instantly picking up on his discomforts. "I wasn't staring at them or anything, I was just wondering why they haven't given you a jacket yet." Namjoon explained gesturing his hands with every other word. Jimin tilted his head at the older and released his tense muscles.
"Jacket?" Jimin questions searching Namjoon's arms for the article of clothing and sure enough, there it was covering god knows what. Namjoon picked up his fork, poking a small piece of chicken from off his plate bringing it to his mouth and chewing the chicken while looking at Jimin. The older nodded quickly before swallowing and continuing. "I have one, obviously," He says gesturing to the peach coloured scrubs. "They give it to you so that other people won't be triggered by your cuttings or burns or..anything." Namjoon shrugs before continuing to eat his meal.
"Can I see?" Jimin says cautiously. Namjoon leans his fork away from his mouth and tilts his head slightly. His blonde hair falling perfectly over his forehead; his attention perfectly formed.
"Pardon?" Namjoon asks. Jimin shifts his eyes down to Namjoon's arm for a brief moment before looking back up at Namjoon. Jimin points to Namjoon's arm shyly. Namjoon looks down to where Jimin was pointing. "Ah," Namjoon searches for any staff before looking back at Jimin and nodding.
Namjoon unbuttons his jacket slowly before sliding out of the sleeves and placing it on the table. Namjoon looks back up at Jimin and saw that he was shocked. Namjoon didn't really mind Jimin looking at his scars since he's learned to live with them.
Jimin breathes out slowly examining Namjoon's arms. There were strings of raised scars coming from the centre of his wrist going all the way down to his elbow. Surrounding the lines were blots of maroon randomly sprawled. Burns. Jimin stared at the scars before reaching out his own arm hesitantly lifting Namjoon's arm off the table and into his palm. Namjoon stared at Jimin examining every emotion the boy expressed, never looking away.
