metanoia «yoonmin»

8

"How long is he going to sleep?"

"It's a mystery to me, Yoongi..." A sigh.

"You are supposed to be the healer. Or should I find a better one, Inseong?"

Silence.

Jimin had been listening to the voices of people around him for maybe a hour when he finally opened his eyes. It took him so much effort to do it that he could immediately feel the pull of the sleep taking over him again.

"Looks like you aren't so incompetent in the end," said Yoongi. He was standing at the foot of Jimin's bed, his blond hair covering his eyes. He was wearing a black leather jacket and dark jeans, hands in his pockets. Jimin suddenly felt a chill. "How are you feeling, pretty boy?" He smirked.

"Tired," Jimin murmured. He really was. His eyes were half open and his head was spinning.

"Your abilities are normalizing themselves," the other man next to Yoongi, Inseong, said. His dark hair was precisely styled and he was wearing a doctor's coat over a brown sweater and light blue jeans. He looked down at his folder. "By the time I got to you they were 6.2 and were still dropping. Currently you are at 1.3."

Jimin slowly shook his head. "I expected as much."

He propped himself on his elbows. The world seemed to swing to on side. Jimin closed his eyes for a second.

"Careful now, pretty boy. We don't want you to hurt yourself again," Yoongi said. He carefully held Jimin by his shoulders, his fingertips as gentle and hot as the fire he had cast around the church. He propped Jimin against a pillow so that he was now sitting up. "What do you mean you expected it?"

Jimin looked away. He owned Yoongi no answers. He had hurt his friends and almost him as well all the while messing around with Jimin. He desired to tell him nothing except for a few curse words he was forbidden from saying.

"You should be fine now. I healed your foot – you had sprained it," Inseong continued, seeing as Jimin was not in the mood to talk. "You can rest, or leave. It's your choice." Then he turned around and exited what seemed to be the infirmary of wherever Jimin currently was.

Yoongi's eyes were glued to Jimin. He sat down on the bed and reached with his hand. He moved slowly as if afraid not to scare away a wild animal. His warm fingertips touched Jimin's cheek and he was now tracing lines unfamiliar to Jimin on his face. He licked and then bid onto his lips. "So pretty."

"I just woke up," Jimin shifted but did not dare to pull away from Yoongi, "I must be a mess. And stop calling me pretty... Please."

Yoongi chuckled. "Aren't you polite, pretty boy." His gaze hardened and he retracted his hand. "Namjoon and Chan want to speak to you. We can make them wait a little more though." His smile returned on his face.

"Thanks..." Jimin looked at Yoongi for a while. He was afraid to ask. "Why are you so nice to me after all that happened?"

Yoongi bid his lip again. His hand reached for Jimin's and he began playing with his fingers. Compared to Jimin's small and chubby fingers, Yoongi's were long, skinny and veiny. Jimin did not know why this and Yoongi's gentle hot touch made him shiver, but it did.

"You scared me for a moment there, pretty boy." Yoongi smiled thoughtfully.

"Jimin."

"You scared me for a moment there, pretty Jimin." Jimin's cheeks went from dusty pink to red. "I have never once in my life seen someone look so powerful, stoic, almighty, but also so damn beautiful." Yoongi had not looked Jimin in the eye until now. His gaze was sharp, but burning like the flames of campfire. "You shook me to the core, Jimin."