Puppetry - P.JM. [ON-HOLD]

Twenty-Two

Don't you just hate emotions?

At one point, you're sitting there, talking with easy, and then the next your stuttering. You mind starts to fog and cluttered with memories and feelings and touches that were all too familiar, voices and laughter, colors and shimmers, all that make you want to fly high in the stars and among Môna. Yeah, that's how I felt.

Jimin was sitting there on the edge of my bed, watching me eat my food as I tried my hardest not to stare. He smiled gently at me, a sense of happiness radiating off of his frozen-life body. His black hair and stud on the side of his nostril shone in the sunlight that was still barely coming through the windows. There was no such thing as him being a puppet at the moment. It was just him and I, against the small world I was trapped in at the moment.

My head didn't throb for once. My body felt weak, but I felt like I was slightly floating on a cloud. I felt like I was seeing in colors. I couldn't feel the little amount of meat on my bones or my bruises and cuts scattered around. I didn't know what was over me. I didn't know if it was from myself or Jimin, but I could feel something in my heart skipping up.

"Y/N?"

I all of a sudden snapped myself out of my daze, widening my eyes a bit. The spoon sat in my fingers still, placed in the soup. I felt a flush of red come into my cheeks and spread across my face. Jimin looked like he was waiting for me to answer.

"O-Oh," I had a little stutter to my words. My heart started throbbing against my lungs, radiating to my ribs to my sternum. It made pain wash through my chest a bit. "Um . . . "

Jimin smiled at bit at me. "Any thoughts on what Master Taehyung likes for meals?"

I swallowed down the thickness from the soup that coated my mouth. I dropped the spoon gently into the bowl, bringing a hand up and slightly brushing the tangles in my hair, enough to where my head wouldn't hurt. "He'll eat just about anything. He's not very picky."

Jimin nodded a bit. He kept smiling at me, reaching a hand up and running it through his dark hair, his fingers disappearing into the inky abyss. I felt like the stud was blinding me. My mind was becoming fogged up again, my heart still thumping against my sternum.

"I'm going to the data lab for puppet mechanics and technicians to start off on your transformation in a couple days," I said, keeping myself on my toes so I wouldn't seem so fixated on other things. "I'm thinking about switching you to your respiratory system first. If I do that, I can take you off oxygen for the cables that you're stuck to. I'm leaving your circulatory system alone for now. I can just hook your lungs up to it for a bit to let some oxygen in, but I need to find out how to help your mechanical heart beat on its own and give you a digestive system."

"Y/N, you seriously don't have to do this," Jimin said with a sigh. "Let yourself rest. Don't overwork your brain. Please, just get better. Don't think of work."

"Nice work, Jimin."

Mine and Jimin's heads turned to look at the door to my room that had opened. Taehyung stood there, leaning against the door frame. His eyes were glued onto me, a bit stern but also soft in a way. Before he had left, he was wearing comfortable clothes, but now he had on his normal formal attire. His shirt was a deep blue, his sleeves having a slight cut down the middle to the shoulders to the cuffs of the sleeves. To cover the slits, a black lace covered it, showing little patches of his skin. The same pattern also followed along on his sides, showing some of his midsection at the side of his ribs.

"Taehyung," I gave a small squeak, my voice higher than what it usually remained as. I almost winced at how it sounded. I tried placing a smile on my face. "You're home."