Healer

Small Changes

It was warm. So, so, so warm.

Jimin pulled the covers closer to his body, squeezing his eyes shut. The heat penetrated his sore muscles, hiding the pain under a blanket of blissful warmth and comfort. He heard a loud sigh from the direction of the door and smothered a laugh.

Yeontan was probably lying in front of it again.

His laugh disappeared quickly, but with the comfort of the blanket around him he didn't mind. The sunlight rested on top of it, bringing extra warmth to his back and hair.

Here was one thing that hadn't changed from the monastery.

He stretched out a hand, draping it over the edge of the bed, and flinched as a small, wet nose poked at his fingers. Yeontan barked, licking his fingertips, and pattered off to the door, sniffing at it for a moment before disappearing off down the hall.

A smile tugged at Jimin's lips, and he turned his face into the pillow, taking a deep breath.

"Good morning?" a new voice asked.

Jimin pulled the blankets away from his face, squirming to face the door. A man he'd never met before stood in the doorway, one hand still on the doorknob. He smiled gently and tapped the wall with his free hand, tipping his head to the side.

"I'm Jin," he said, "It's about lunchtime. Would you like anything to eat?"

Jimin hesitated, then nodded, propping himself up on his elbows and wincing as his sore muscles complained. Jin smiled again and walked over to the bed, helping him up.

"Most everyone's in town," he said, "work, shopping..."

Jimin nodded, leaning against the older man to steady himself.

"Yoongi said not to bother you, but I think if Yeontan comes to get me I should at least introduce myself," Jin laughed, shaking his head. "Did you sleep alright?"

Jimin nodded, smiling for a moment before the pain in his legs distracted him. Since when had his body hurt so much?

Jin helped him downstairs, where Jimin was enveloped in a warm, spicy smell that made his eyes widen in surprise.

"I know chicken and salad is a lot for a first meal," Jin apologized, helping him into a chair, "But I made it before I'd even thought about what I wanted to eat."

Jimin couldn't help but mimic his embarrassed smile, watching as the older man bustled around the kitchen, filling two plates with chicken, rice, and salad. The smell of meat and spices filled his nose, making his eyes and mouth water. Jin sat down next to him and patted his shoulder, grinning.

"Eat up," he said, "There's plenty more."

Jimin ate slowly, savoring each bite and giving his stomach time to adjust. After months of noodles and bland soup, the spices seemed to kick him in the mouth, screaming and hollering all the way down his throat to his stomach. He wiped his hair out of his face, glancing at Jin, but the latter was too absorbed in his food to notice.

He returned to his food, closing his eyes, and felt his heart tremble. He remembered a time when he had eaten meals like this, talking and laughing with other people around a similar table. He remembered other meals, eaten in a rush so as to avoid the people around him. Then came the memories of the meals that were not meals...

He swallowed hard, opening his eyes. His food was gone. He set his fork down, taking a deep breath, and Jin looked up, a piece of rice still stuck to his lower lip.

"Do you want any more?" he asked.

Jimin hesitated, then nodded, picking up his plate. Jin chuckled, taking it, and patted his shoulder.