My Sleeping Partner | P. JM

My Jimin

"Jimin, stop."

"Stop this, please."

My voice sounds desperate as I grab at his sleeve. His face is pale and cold as I pinch softly at his cheeks, a useless attempt to bring back the color to it.

The mint smell of pain relief patches follow him around everywhere.

Frustrated tears blur my eyes as he struggles up to his feet, giving me a warm, empty smile.

"I'm fine, Minah."

Even his voice has lost its life.

"No!"

He looks up in surprise as I yell, not being able to take this any longer. Every time he'd do this, say he was perfectly fine.

He isn't.

And he's not seeing it.

"Look at yourself!" I whisper, tears stinging in the corner of my eyes as I lift his shirt. Instead of the skin I should find, all I see is the white of pain relief patches and bandages.

"You haven't eaten anything properly for a month!" I hiss, rubbing at my eyes. "It's like you're dying— I only see you when you come to put me to sleep, Jimin. And then the rest I don't see you at all, because you're too busy practicing."

"Minah..."

"And don't say you're fine!" I snap, my words blurring with hiccups. "Because I know you're not, okay?!"

My hands tremble.

"How do you think watching you like this makes me feel? Watching you dance until you can't stand properly— until you collapse every minute!"

"Look," I whisper, swallowing as I close my hand around his wrist. "Look how thin you are."

"You're not my Jimin anymore."

Something in his eyes break when he hears that. He freezes to the ground, face growing ashen when I stand up to leave.

"No."

"Don't go, Master."

"Don't go."

His fingers close around my sleeve, and his arms are firm as he presses me against his chest. Something wet touches the back of my neck.

He's crying.

Well, great.

Now I'm crying too.

"I'm sorry," He whispers, his body trembling as he pulls me in tighter. "Don't leave me, Minah. I've been such a terrible AI— I'm sorry."

"I'll quit dance. I'll do anything—"

"You don't have to quit," I hurriedly say, appalled at his words. "You've worked so hard— I'd be being cruel to make you quit. I just want you next to me more than you're in here."

"Why are you so nice to me?" He murmurs, voice soft with tears. "I deserve to be disciplined. You should hit me for what I've done to you."

"Hit?!" I yelp, terrified to hear that.

"Yeah," He says confusedly. "Isn't that how they discipline you when you do something wrong?"

"No!" I exclaim, grinding my teeth. Is that what his previous owner had done to him? Hit this beautiful boy?

"You can feel it, right?" I mutter, pressing my palm gently against his shoulder blades. "You can still feel the pain. You smell like mint all over, Jimin."