Terrible Things

Chapter 8 - Then

I rub my eyes, the glare from the screen in front of me stinging my eyes. I looked to the clock beside me, watching at the numbers changed - the red numbers reading 1:23 am.

"Happy birthday to me," I grumble, once again trying to rub the tiredness from my eyes.

Ever since my piece was included in the exhibition in November requests had been coming nonstop - even now, over three months later. Some wanted to buy the pictures I'd already taken, others wanted me to photograph them. This is the busiest I've been in my entire life, my sleep schedule stretched thin as I try to meet every deadline and still keep the quality of my work high.

Which is why I'm where I am now, in the wee hours of the morning of my birthday, still working.

The door behind me unlatches, a soft voice breaking me from my focus. "Come to bed, Yoongi. You need to rest."

I ignore Jimin, not even turning towards him as I continue working on the photo in front of me. It was of a small child, their face alight with delight as they played. Her parents had come to me a few weeks ago, asking me to photograph her.

If you just looked at the picture, you'd never be able to tell that she was dying. That sickness made her weak and prevented her from doing things that normal children got to do.

Her parent's had asked me for one thing: to document her as they always wanted to remember her - happy.

And I'll be damned if I let something like being tired pull me from that.

Quiet footsteps approach, stopping behind my chair. Jimin's hands come to rest on my shoulders, squeezing them gently. He places a soft kiss to my cheek, "It looks amazing."

"It's not done yet," I sigh. "I still have a few things to do on it."

"You can do them tomorrow."

"I can't."

"You can," he says. He pulls my chair, forcing it to turn towards him. His arms are crossed in front of him, a pout on his lips. I try not to get distracted by the fact that he's only dressed in a robe, the front of it falling to expose a small bit of his collarbone, the smooth skin tempting me to reach out and touch it.

I had invited Jimin to start staying over about a month ago, not caring one bit about the fact that we hadn't been together that long. It didn't matter to me. I just wanted him around all the time, to know that when I opened my eyes in the morning he would be there.

But I had been careful to move slow and not give him the wrong idea. I wanted Jimin to know that I didn't want him just for his body, even if it was extremely hard to resist him at times.

Jimin tilts his head to the side, watching me. My eyes dart to the newly bared skin of his neck, my lips itching to trace their way across it - to feel his pulse pounding beneath them.

"Are you even listening to me?"

Jimin's voice snaps me out of my lustful thoughts, bringing me back to reality. "I'm sorry," I apologize. "I got... distracted. What were you saying?"

He huffs, his pout turning to a full-blown frown. "I was saying that you can finish this tomorrow. Your deadline isn't even until next week, so just come to bed."

Frustration flares through me. I can't believe he would say that, especially after I told him this family's circumstances. "Why would you say that?" I snap, my voice coming out harsh. "Yes, my deadline is next week. But this little girl doesn't have very much time and I would like to give this to her parents before they're in mourning over their daughter, Jimin."