Chickadee - A Yoonmin Fanfiction

Part 7

~Jimin~

I feel the chill of Yoongi's fingers against my ribs, grounding me to reality. My head lolls against his chest as I fight to regain control over my body, willing this moment to pass.

The truth is, I black out all the time, especially when I'm on a diet, but it's not something I talk about. People are always so quick to overreact, so quick to think that something is wrong. If I mention my symptoms, I might be taken to the hospital, and that's the last thing I want.

My vision begins to clear, the darkness replaced by a horrible sense of embarrassment. It is shameful to be weak, but it is even more shameful to show it. I stagger back from Yoongi, fighting to regain control over my tired body.

Without making eye contact, the young photographer moves forward, tucking himself under my shoulder for support. I watch his face as he guides me to one side of the room, lowering me gently against the wall. "Are you okay?" He asks.

"I'm fine," I respond lightly, hoping to convince him that nothing is wrong. I watch as Yoongi hunts around the room for my shirt, finally snatching it off the cold ground. He puffs air into the soft material, rubbing it together in an attempt to give it heat. "Put this on." He orders.

Slipping the shirt over my shoulders, I hug myself against the circle of warmth created by Yoongi's breath. I can sense his eyes boring into me, searching to find some explanation for my collapse. When I don't volunteer an answer, he squats down in front of me, forcing me to meet his gaze.

"What happened there? Why didn't you ask for a break?" He demands. "I would have given it to you."

"I didn't need a break." I say, still staring at the floor. "I just blacked out a little, it isn't a big deal" my eyes flicker to his, "I didn't mean to come so close to you. That was an accident, I promise."

"Don't worry about that," Yoongi says, sitting down beside me. He leans his head back against the wall, staring up at the ceiling. "That stuff happened to my mother all the time. Did you have anything for breakfast?"

"I didn't have time." I lie. I've been more or less skipping breakfast for months.

"...Well, here," he says after a moment, reaching for the fruit arrangement that cost me so much to buy. "Eat this."

I stare at him, aghast. "That is your present. I won't take it."

"If you don't eat it willingly, I will force feed you." The young man responds firmly.

"Fine then, we will share." I respond, stubborn as a small child.

Yoongi sighs, running a hand through his hair. "Sure Jimin, we can share."

The fruit is good. Even Yoongi says so, which warms my heart and makes me glad for buying it in the first place. I feel better by the time we are finished, but he insists we sit still another fifteen minutes to make sure I am okay. I fill the silence with chatter about the university, about my two best friends, Jungkook and Taehyung, who are dating each other, and of my family in Busan. Yoongi doesn't talk a lot, but I can tell that something is bothering him.

"Is everything alright?" I ask, pausing from a story about the time Kookie put pepper in Tae's hot chocolate and got attacked by kisses for his trouble.

"Everything's fine." Yoongi responds, his tone expressionless.

I don't believe him for a second, and am about to coax the truth out of him, when Yoongi abruptly changes the subject. "I can have the pictures ready in three days. Could we meet at the Claire de Lune cafe to look them over? Say, at nine am?"