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Taehyung stares up at me, surprise clear in his hands as he holds a sleeping Seolah in one arm and touching a painting with the other.
It's a painting of him.
"My sister's a great painter." A hushed voice pipes up behind me, and I feel Youra scramble up my back to get a closer look as Tae blushes and stares down.
"Get off me." I say, and she blinks innocently at me as she climbs up higher, pretending to not have heard me at all. "Shin Youra."
"Park Jimin?"
"What?"
Taehyung's frantically motioning for us to leave, his eyes flickering from us to Seolah. He silently growls and points out the door.
"Park Jimin." She whispers, and I can't help but admit a spark of pleasure travel up my back. But it disappears in a second as she pats my shoulder and starts making horse noises.
Then I get an idea.
While closing the door and walking down the doorway with Youra still on my back, I pretend to trip over something and fall to the floor, releasing a pained gasp.
Youra quickly rolls off of my fallen figure, her eyes wide with surprise at the sight of my twisted features.
"Jimin?"
I'm trying to hold in my laughter the entire time as I pretend struggling to get to my feet, and the attempt gets even harder when I see her face grow cloudy with worry.
"Yoongi!"
"What's wrong?" She says, and I gingerly wrap my fingers around my ankle. She was so shocked she looked like she'd completely forgotten about my regenerative abilities.
"I'm fine." I force out, and the fact that my face is already so pale helps my case as I groan.
"Yoongi!" She calls again, and hyung finally appears from the end of the hallway. He doesn't blink an eye when he sees me on the floor, sighing in quick realization.
I'd done the same thing to him just a few weeks ago.
"Wow." He says in monotone. "Jiminie's hurt. What a wonder— unfortunate turn of events."
"Seriously." Youra says in exasperation as she bends over my struggling form, genuine concern in her eyes. "What's wrong with him?"
"After effects of Blood Hour." Hyung lies, and I shoot him a smile when Youra isn't looking. He rolls his eyes, drawing a line over his neck and pointing it in my direction then hers.
"Shouldn't have touched him— his body becomes sensitive the day after. Regeneration abilities shut down, and ooh— I see that he's twisted his ankle. He's going to develop a fever now, and..."
