BloodLust [JiminxReader]

XI

*JIMIN'S POV*

He leaves his car, making sure it's locked, before adventuring himself to the other side of the street, in a little break he had found in the road, less cars speeding past him.

The last place he wanted to be was back at the agency, at such late hour of the night, only a quarter left to midnight. After all, he was supposed to go out, tonight, try to clear his head of Y/N's scent. But his cousin, obviously, forgot his briefcase at Namjoon's office and, since Jimin was in the zone – both the company and Mary's house being downtown –, he was given the short mission of making a small detour, and grab it back.

That way, he didn't even park the car in the private lot, simply taking a spot on the side of the street. He'll just warn whoever oversees the security of the building, that he won't take longer than five minutes.

Once he reaches the front magnificent door, he looks inside to the main entrance, everything dark and quiet, the elevators stopped, no one being behind the long red counter.

He frowns.

JIMIN:

"Oh, c'mon!" He knocks on the thick glass, waiting for someone to show up.

Nothing.

He rolls his eyes, not having time for this. His hand moves to one of the door handles, ready to force his way inside. To his surprise, the door opens as he slightly pulls it, revealing it's unlocked.

This isn't weird, at all...!

He glances around, before walking inside, the door swinging close behind him, silent.

A scent all too familiar reaches his nostrils.

Y/N.

JIMIN:

"How am I supposed to control myself if she's constantly on my way?" He grunts, trying to detach himself from the smell that taunts him to an excruciating point.

However, he halts, wincing his eyes, as three more scents, that he doesn't recognize, contaminate the building.

He frowns, tilting his head up.

From Y/N's scent he can notice... Fright?

For fuck's sake!

He spins his head to the stairs, knowing her studio is only six floors above, pacing towards them, following her scent, the darkness not being a barrier to his eyes. Halfway through them, already moving from the fourth floor to the fifth, his hearing focused, he hears a voice sneering.

And, he doesn't like the tone of the words, or the words themselves, fastening his pace, making two steps at a time, quickly finding two silhouettes in front of the door to her studio, embraced by the darkness around.

He silently paces through the hallway, getting closer to them and, since it's dark, he passes unnoticed.