Puppetry - P.JM. [ON-HOLD]

Twenty-One

"What did you see last night?"

I watched Jimin with heavy eyes, them wanting to close. The exhaustion of everything was catching up, my body still filled with unbearable pain. Jimin stood at the end of my bed, folding some of Taehyung's clothes. He had on the same shirt on as the night before with the same pants. I couldn't see any of his tattoos, but the little diamond stud on his nose sparkled in the sunlight that caught itself in whatever crack it could use to get into the room. He had on a straight face, his eyes focused on the clothes.

"You need to rest," he said in a flat voice, not looking up at me. His black hair fell into his eyes slightly. "You're head is injured. You're also recovering from harm all over your body. It's best to sleep and rest everything."

I gave a slight sigh at his words. Over the course of the time Taehyung had left, Jimin had been in my room at all times, watching over to make sure nothing unplanned happened. I wasn't sure if it was because I had hit more head or if I was hysteric, but I kept hearing myself calling the puppet a "him" in my head. I tried to brush it off every time and call him an "it," but it was never working.

"How long do I have to stay in bed?" I said, giving an annoyed glare. My hand was placed on my right hip where my tattoo was splayed underneath the blanket. "I know for a fact that human bodies need to stretch their muscles or bodily harm can happen."

Jimin's hands stopped folding an expensive shirt for a second. He turned over to me, his dark brown eyes meeting mine. He looked a bit annoyed at me. I had never seen a puppet look at me like that. I almost wanted to laugh, but if I did, my whole body would hurt.

"Do you really want to get up right now?" he said, raising his eyebrows.

I gave a slight nod so that my head wouldn't hurt as much.

Jimin's eyes skimmed over to the door that remained slightly ajar. He stared for a second, seeming to listen in. Finally, I watched him place down Taehyung's shirt on the end of my bed, him coming around to my side of the bed as he stared the door down.

When he came up to me, he turned his head to me, his back now facing the door. He looked down at me intently, almost a bit hesitant. "You're not supposed to get up. This is only for a short period of time, okay?"

I gave a nod, a little tickle of excitement in my stomach.

Jimin reached down to the blanket, pulling it back to where my legs were exposed enough to get up with as much ease as possible. The cooler air hit my bare legs, feeling unnatural. He gently slipped one hand on the very bottom of my skull and the other hooking under my legs. With quick ease, he kept my head supported as he pulled me to the end of the bed where my feet reached the floor.

His arm unhooked itself from under my legs, his hand still supporting my head as he stood up a little straighter. He stared down at me as he held his hand against my head still. It seemed as if he was waiting for something. I felt like I was waiting for something myself.

"I knew you couldn't move on your own," he said quietly, his fingers tangling into my hair a bit. It wasn't harmful. It was gentle, familiar. A picture of Taehyung popped into my head at what kind of touch I felt like this was. I froze up. "That's how I feel when the cables aren't properly attached to my body."

The thought of his words crossed my mind, wiping away the remembrance of Taehyung. I knew I could barely move my body. Môna, my limbs seemed to be stabbing me at that moment, begging me to lay back down, to give up. If this was what all puppets felt like, always being trapped and still without support like Jimin had given me, I suddenly felt guilt come over me.

"Restraining, huh?" he said, tilting his head to the side a bit. "I thought I would just tell you."

I gave one small, dry laugh. A spark of pain shot through my brain. I winced a bit in return. "You really like to make the puppet industry guilty, don't you?"