I can't believe I'm doing this. I would literally rather spend the rest of my life in jail than to have dinner with a complete stranger that teased me about my dead parents. I mean, I guess he didn't really know they were dead. But still.
I went inside and there I saw him. He was wearing the exact same outfit he was wearing when we first met. It was a black leather jacket, black pants, black shirt, but this time, without his black cap. He looked.........good.
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I didn't realize I was staring for too long. He stood up and pulled my chair back for me to sit. "You look amazing." He said. I knew it was just an act, I wasn't having any of it. "Thanks." I coldly replied.
After I sat down, he went to sit on his chair in front of me. "I didn't think you would actually come, Little One."
I signed at the nickname. "I'm not little!" I sternly said, gritting my teeth. "Mmm you are". He said and laughed. "You're so annoying." I crossed my arms. "I know." He said.
After the food arrived, he started to eat. There was cooked chicken, fries, salad, and some beer. "Aren't you gonna eat?" He asked with his mouth full. I made a disgust face. "Don't talk while you eat." I said like a mom. He chuckled and put down his fork, swallowing the food in his mouth.
"You know, you sound like my mom." He said, staring deeply into my eyes. I stared back, I couldn't look away for some reason. We stayed silent for a long while, eyes deep into each others', until he finally spoke up. "I'm so sorry about your parents. I didn't mean to-"
"It's okay." I cut him off and looked away to the side. He signed. He looked down, before looking at me again. "Well. I wanna make it up to you. What do you want? Anything you ask for."
I refused to speak. I stayed silent for a while until i felt a hand on mine on the table. I looked at him as he started to caress my hand. My gaze softened. Maybe he is really trying to make it up to me. I felt touched. But I still couldn't trust him 100 percent just yet.
I signed in defeat, and spoke. "Fine." He looked at me, waiting for an answer, his eyes never leaving mine, and his hand never leaving mine either. After a few moments of silence, I spoke up.
"I want you to get me out of here." He stayed silent. I knew it. He couldn't do it. "Jimin. As much as I want to get you out, I can't. I really want to, trust me, but I can't. Not until we prove that you're innocent."
"I knew it." I left the table and went back to my cell. I wanted nothing more than to stay alone right now. They're so stubborn. They should at least prove my innocence.
