Moonchild ∞ pjm

十四

I have jaded anxiety when I wake up and I am frantic to find a phone to see the time. The first phone I grab isn't mine, it's Jimin's. I'm relieved that it is only 7 I smile at his background it's The Birth of Venus, one of my favorite paintings it's even hung up in my room back at my father's.

My father.

It feels like a century since I've even thought about him, it's only been a few weeks. But in those few weeks so much has happened, I wonder what my father thinks about all of the moonchildren murders. He probably doesn't see them as murders at all, if anything he's probably more empathetic with the MCR workers who have to file all the paperwork regarding the break ins.

I look at Jimin, I don't want to think about my father anymore I don't want to think about anything right now, he is still holding me but loosely. One of his arms is acting like a pillow for his head while the other is draped across me, his hand is slipped under my shirt resting on my lower back. His lips are separated slightly and his cheeks are rosy pink.

Trying my hardest not to wake the sleeping angel next to me I slip out of the warm bed. I stretch my arms up toward the ceiling feeling my back crack and pop as I twist. Jadu is quick to notice my awakening, she is meowing and rubbing against my legs as I make my way to her food dish. Once her food is displayed in front of her she stops talking, the only noise in the room now is Jimin's soft breathing and Jadu's loud crunching.

Sitting on the edge of my small bed I take my journal and a dull pencil on my lap. I'm careful not to wake up Jimin as I fit my body in the small space beside his feet. Then I study him, the way we are positioned I get a beautiful angle of his profile. I take in the slight dip in his nose aligned with his eyes, and how his eyelids create domes. My eyes trace down his face, admiring how his cupids bow flows perfectly into his upper lip and how his upper lip extrudes more than his equally full bottom lip. His chin angles downward allowing his jaw to be a sleek and sharp line.

Then I look away, letting my pencil glide and mark the white, slightly wrinkled, paper in my lap. I spend the longest on his lips as I draw them I can feel them against mine like they were only a few hours ago. I make sure the shading is perfect, just like him. His eyelashes are subtle along with his faint smile lines. I think I prefer Jimin with bed head, the way his hair looks soft to the touch.

This sketch of Jimin is becoming my new favorite, maybe because I'm possessive and the fact that I am one of the few people to see Jimin sleeping makes me prideful but also because of how effortlessly beautiful he is. I've called him beautiful so many times in my head, but I don't think I can ever say it enough.

"Why am I not holding you right now?" Jimin's words are masked by his lips pressed against his arm. He keeps his eyes closed as he waits for me to answer.

"Because I moved." I smiled as I looked back down at the paper.

"No shit. Come back."

Ignored him, continuing to shade under his jaw and bottom lip. He looked so brilliant when he pouted. I jumped when my journal was snatched out of my hands and tossed onto the floor. A sleepy, upset Jimin was left in its place. I let my hands comb through his hair as he rested his head on my thigh, his arm draped across the bed hanging off the side for Jadu to lick.

"Taehyung wants to talk to you but I told him he has to wait till tomorrow. Jungkook also needs to see all of us, something about the protest." His voice was muffled against my leg. "I still don't want you in the protest."

"Jimin." It wasn't up for debate, I was going to be involved whether he or Yoongi had anything to say about it. "I don't want to talk about this right now."

"Fine." He said. I sighed nudging his head off my legs, he looked up at me confused. "What?"

"Nothing I just, can we do something? Go somewhere? Anything." He rolled onto his back as he stretched.