Chickadee - A Yoonmin Fanfiction

Part 19

•Yoongi•

The world slips in and out of focus as I struggle against the pull of my medication. Desperately, I try to break myself away from this fevered sleep. I can't face my nightmares again.

The bed frame creaks as Jimin sits down by my side. I feel the dancer's fingers interlocking with mine, the press of his hand grounding me to reality. "Are you awake?" He murmurs, brushing the hair out of my face.

I feel my senses prickling at his touch. "Yeah." I hum. "I'm awake." I open my eyes, blinking up at his tired face. "What time is it?"

Jimin checks his watch. "Eleven pm. You've been asleep for eight hours."

Groaning under my breath, I curse at myself for having taken sleeping pills. I thought that they would give me an escape, but the trauma of my past has wrenched itself into every corner of my subconscious, eclipsing my dreams. Now, my entire day has been wasted, and I feel no more rested than I was this morning.

"What have you been doing all this time?" I ask, tracing Jimin's fingers tiredly. My brain is filled with strange, delirious snapshots from the past few hours. Moments when I would start out of a dream, screaming or clutching my pillow. Times when I would wake up naturally, only to get pulled back into nightmares. No matter how and when I woke up, Jimin was always there, his voice soothing in the stillness. I wonder if he ever left the room I was sleeping in.

"Oh, I got a lot of things done." The dancer responds, gesturing around us.

I sit up, taking in a spotlessly remodelled bedroom. "Holy shit. This is different. How long did it take you?"

"Most of the day." Jimin says, surveying a stain on his carpet. "I thought I should stay close...in case you needed me, but I've been hoping to reorganize my room for a while anyway."

Vaguely, I think that my mother would never have stayed with me if I was having a bad day. Jimin cares more about my mental health than my entire family combined, and the realization of that leaves me equal parts frustrated, and touched.

"You haven't eaten all day." The dancer continues. "Do you like Panda Express? I thought I would order takeout when you woke up."

"Wait, you haven't had supper yet?" I ask, frowning up at him in confusion. I struggle to calculate how many hours he must have gone without eating. Somewhere in my clouded mind, I realize how hungry he must be. "Get whatever you want," I say with conviction, "I'll pay."

"No." Jimin responds, shaking his head stubbornly. "You're my guest. I insist on covering the bill."

Bewildered, I watch Jimin pull up the number for Panda Express. Since when did he start fighting me on these things? I have to repay him somehow for taking care of me like he has.

"What do you want to eat?" Jimin asks, cupping the mouthpiece of his phone for silence.

"I'm paying." I respond stubbornly, unwilling to let the issue go.

"Shut up and tell me what you want." Jimin quips. "Or else there'll be nothing to pay for."

"Fine." I say, gritting my teeth a little. "Get the orange chicken with a side of fried rice. But I'm covering this."

"Whatever." Jimin laughs, walking down into the hallway.

I close my eyes, listening to the distant sound of his voice. He speaks slowly and carefully, laughing at something the attendant says. Order completed, Jimin skips back into the room, announcing that our food will be coming in twenty minutes.

I can tell he is planning to cover the bill no matter what I say, but I resolve not to let him. We stare each other down, waiting for the sound of the doorbell.