bad boy | jjk ✔️

bonus one part one.

your pov - five years later.

    "Why the fuck do you need to know?" Ha-eun asked in anger. I tapped my fingers on the clipboard. In that moment it felt like deja-vu. I remembered when I was the one that needed saving, but here I am now saving others.

    No, I wasn't saving others, but I was helping them save themselves. "Ha-eun, I need to know because I need to know why you've been treating yourself like this." I responded.

Her fists were clenched, "You don't even know what I went through." She seemed to avoid eye contact with me. This was the line that made me realize how people will judge you just looking at you. They don't listen to your life story before judgement. That's just how it is.

"With the information you have given me so far, we are quite similar. I'm not going to tell you my life story—but I'll tell you a part of it. My whole family excluding myself, died in a car accident." I didn't mention how it wasn't really an accident because it would be too long of a story.

She bit her nails, still not paying attention. "I suffered with depression my whole life, and I still do to this day. I use to do what I notice you doing as well," I nodded my head at her scars. "I want to help you get through this big obstacle in your life so you could live freely. So you won't get trapped in this, in this horrible world of misery." She looked up at me as I finished.

"I hated going to therapy sessions too. I hated how they'd pry and try to get information out of me, but it wasn't because they're nosy. They were just trying to help me. So please, Ha-eun, help me help you." I said.

I had gone through a couple more sessions after the whole warehouse thing. After a few therapists, one made me realize how important it is to try to relate to the patient. That one therapist was the only one that made me feel comfortable in opening up.

Honestly, I never planned on going to therapy. It wasn't until all of Bangtan agreed that we'd go to a few sessions each because even though we were able to let go, there was still a lot we endured.

Ha-eun stayed quiet, fidgeting with her fingers. "My father was an alcoholic. Well, he still is." She took a deep breath. "He'd abuse me, and he'd control me like I was his pet. I'm sorry I don't know why I even came here in the first place." She rushed, quickly standing up.

    I stood up, placing the clipboard onto the chair as I placed my hand onto her shoulder in comfort. "Don't rush, Ha-eun. Take your time in telling me, and you don't have to tell me everything in one session. You can tell me when you're ready. You have already made tremendous progress, so don't force yourself." I said. Mostly because the session was almost over, but I didn't want to be a one-time therapist for her. I wanted to be more of a friend that she was able to talk to.

    I looked up at the clock, the end of the session coming near. "The session is over, but with what you told me—please tell the police too. Please know that you aren't in this alone and that there are people out there willing to help you. I'll see you soon." I gave her a smile. Ha-eun gave me a small smile back before she turned her back, leaving.

My sneakers tapped against the ground as I walked to my desk. I would wear heels, but I absolutely hate them. Heels are the epitome of pain. I might be an adult now, but heels are something I can never get use to.

My phone vibrated on my desk, a message from him. I smiled, picking my phone up as I read the message.

🐰❤️: Dinner 2nite?

Five years later and he still can't text properly. I sighed, but still with a smile on my face as I responded.

What's the occasion? You
don't take me out a lot.