Always (Jumin X Zen)

Chapter 3

A/N: I changed the title because I changed the plot. I hope you like it!! And whoops, I watched Hunger Games and forgot to update. The chapter's kinda boring though :p

|Such a Pretty Rat Tail, But What Happened to His Wrists...?|

Zen stares at Jumin. And again, he remembers how the old Zen would have reacted. Blushing furiously, yelling at the other male to go away, biting his lip- actually, he was doing that at the moment. He didn't want Jumin to see...

"...en-ZEN," Jumin calls loudly. "If you're going to space out, I'll just take off your clothes myself."

Zen opens his mouth and pauses a moment. "I... could you... turn away?" He looks down at the floor.

Jumin stares at him then blinks. He turns around, speaking. "God... and to think that you're so narcissistic..."

Zen flinches. I'm not like that anymore... I was disgusting. I still am. Everyone that mattered said so...

He pulls off his pants first, different from his normal undressing order. He folds them neatly, placing them on the corner of the bed. Zen stands there, reaching for the hem of his shirt as he watches Jumin's back, praying that he wouldn't turn around.

Zen pulls up his white shirt slowly, revealing his abs, less toned than before, and baring his entire chest a moment later. He takes a quick look at Jumin before pulling the shirt up and over his head.

"Are you done y-"

"No," Zen says quickly. He can't know. He folds the shirt, then tosses it across to the pants.

He picks up the new provided pair of clothes, pulling up the black dress pants quickly and grabbing the shirt. He slides his arms into the long sleeves and rushes through the buttons. But... he skipped a hole.

He tries again and sighs frustratedly when he only makes it worse.

"Let me see," Jumin says, moving in front of Zen. Zen looks up with wide eyes, opening his mouth to reject him. But Jumin places a finger on top of the other's lips, silencing him.

He removes the finger and lowers his hands, kneeling down as he unbuttons Zen's shirt. He fastens the pants first, before moving up and buttoning the shirt calmly and slowly, his finger tips grazing Zen's bare skin.

The red-eyed male shivers, both from the claminess and just the simple touch of the other's fingers.

"I'm sorry, Zen," Jumin says quietly, a pained look in his eyes. "... My fingers appear to be unusually cold."

Zen says nothing in response. Jumin stands and tugs down the shirt, smoothing out the wrinkles. He goes to the sleeve and pulls it up to button it, not noticing Zen's fear filled look.

He stops, staring at Zen's cut up wrist, older and newer cuts and scabs covering his arm from the wrist all the way to his inner elbow. The brunette pulls the sleeve back down, fastening it at the silverette's wrist instead. He moves on to the other and does the same.

He steps away, looking Zen up and down. "Bathroom," he says in a clipped tone, no emotion on his face. Zen shuffles across the room and opens the door to the cramped bathroom, avoiding Jumin's gaze. Jumin looks in, muttering under his breath.

"I never expected commoner places to be so cramped..." He turns to Zen. "Go and sit on the bed."

The old Zen would have responded sassily, refusing to be bossed around in his own house, hip jutting outward, a hand placed on that same hip as he mouthed back at the other man. Instead, he moved slowly to the bed. He kind of hoped that Jumin would be worried about him... that he would act like he cared about him. He needed that. But... he would just be a burden. Either way, everyone always ended up hating him. It wouldn't be anything new if Jumin didn't care.

Zen sits on the bed, waiting patiently as he stares at his bare feet. He looks up at a sudden crash, hearing a loud curse. He turns back to the yellowish-white wall.

Jumin steps out of the bathroom, a slightly frustrated look on his face until he looks up and sees Zen seated on the bed, legs crossed and staring straight ahead, the common, blank stare in his eyes. And yet, what Jumin saw was an angel. A silver-haired angel with sad, red eyes, wishing for something to change in what he considered a Hell.

Jumin walks over, a hair brush, hair tie, and multiple hair clips in hand. He sits behind Zen, placing them all neatly beside him.

"Zen, you have to brush your hair... will you let me...?"

Zen nods and Jumin takes down his rat tail, combing through it first with his finger before using the hairbrush. Every now and again, it would catch on knots and pull Zen's head back painfully. Jumin finally finishes and ties Zen's hair back into the long rat tail, clipping back the other stray hairs.

"I have no idea how you can keep your hair so soft," Jumin mutters quietly, softly patting the top of Zen's head. "I mean, it's not as great as Elizabeth the Third's, but it's so soft... so soft..." He affectionately runs his hand along the platinum locks, a small smile on his face.

Zen stiffens at the brunette's words, the lightest of blushes appearing on his face. Suddenly, he realizes what he was compared to and the blush disappears. He turns to Jumin.

"I'm not a cat," he says quietly, an odd look on his face.

At least his disliking towards cats is still there, Jumin thinks, getting up and off the bed.

Zen watches as he heads towards the door, picking up his jacket and pulling it on and over his waistcoat. Jumin unlocks the door, opening it as Zen stands up quickly.

"Jumin, wh-where are you going?" Zen asks in a frightened and wobbly tone. He's not leaving... is he?

Jumin turns around. "We're going to get coffee. Together. So hurry up."

A/N: (again) I'm sorry I'm so lazy xD maybe tomorrow I'll continue & make it less boring