Obsession (Jimin FF) ✔

Journey

(Y/N) POV

The blurry gray wall begins to clear as the tears have long dried up. The stench of myself is still very ripe in my nose, the vomit  seeming to have dried up as well.

At one point, I had laid here, covered in defilement and shame, disgusted in myself. I had hurt my Jiminie, I had taken something from him that he hadn't been willing to give, and I had done it in a sneaky, malicious way. Then to add insult to injury, I had made him devoted to me, only to not do the same for him, giving myself away to the first guy that showed an interest. I had lied to him, betrayed him, even stuck up for the outsider when he had wanted answers to his questions. Questions that any boyfriend would demand of his girl. And now, I had broken my promise to him, had let someone else inside me, had let someone else give me  an orgasm. I had cum for another man.

The shame of that betrayal alone had made fresh tears appear several times in the last few hours, even when I thought I had no more to give. But he had made me. I didn't want to. I wanted no one but my Jiminie, never wanted Taehyung inside of me ever again.

He had lured me, trapped me, and attacked me. How could he? He had been my friend, my best friend. Sure, I had played with him a bit, but this was the reward I got for befriending him and giving him a taste? I didn't deserve this. I didn't deserve to be used like this. I didn't deserve to be beaten, to be assaulted. I didn't deserve to be raped.

Now, I'm kinda angry. Actually, I'm pissed. I'm bordering on furious. No, I'm full fledged fucking wrathful.

I slowly push myself up off of the cold floor, thoughts of vengeance pulsing through my veins urging my battered limbs to push through the pain. My clothes are either missing or torn and covered in bile. The clock on the wall tells me school is out and has been for a while.

'I just need to get to Jimin,' I think to myself. He will take care of me. And then...

We will take care of Taehyung.

🙊🙉🙈

After shimmying into my jeans , I grip my torn, vomit covered, shirt, and open the door to the classroom. Peeping around the corner, I listen carefully for a few and access that the majority, if not all of the students and staff have gone home for the day.

I limp down the hallway, and head down the stairs, each step bringing with it radiating pain localizing itself in my hips. I don't know how I don't fall down the full flight, my head spinning like crazy from the many connections I made with the wall. When I do make it down, I have to take a seat on the bottom step, my body needing the rest even after such a short bout of exertion.

"Bitch, Taehyung. First he abandons me in this state, then takes my phone so I can't call for help."

My body is so sore, I don't want to move but reluctantly, my will has another agenda.

'I just have to get to Jimin.'

I pull myself off the step and wallow down the empty hall. Passing a trophy case, I catch my reflection in the glass and, God, do I look horrible.

There's a gash over my left eye that looks to have, at some point, been bleeding profusely. In that same eye lies a red dot on the side of my pupil, a blood clot formed from the blows to my face. My other eye is also swollen, the socket turning a purplish-blue and another cut lies on the cheek beneath it. My lips are swollen and bruised, a matching cut donning both.

There's a crusty, yellowing substance flaking off the left side of my face. At this point, I know what it is. Some of my hair is matted into it, while alternately, grotesque looking chunks cling to random strands of hanging hair. On the right side of my face are splotches of another substance, white in color, and I remember him standing over me, releasing himself onto my face, a lick to my dry lips bringing a salty, bitter taste.

I can see purpling spots on the side of my neck, marks from where he gripped me too harshly. My shoulders, neck, and clavicle are littered with teeth indentations and hickies that ache. Under my shirt, I find matching bruises on my hips, his grip digging and painful.

I want to cry all over again.

"Just get to Jiminie,' my conscious calls, and with heavy steps, I turn away from the mangled being that looks a lot like me.

The walk to Jimin's usually takes about 15 minutes. Today it feels like hours. Walking up the pavement to his front door, I contemplated entering this way. His parents would definitely be alarmed by my appearance and smell. But I haven't gotten it in me to climb into his bedroom window, so I bite the bullet and proceed.

The door is unlocked, per usual of Jimin getting home from school. Sometimes he can be so reckless. Doesn't he know it's crazy people out here?

Opening the front door, I'm assaulted with the scent of potpourri, his mom loving the floral fragrance and having it scattered around the living room. It's a reprieve from what I've been smelling.

I don't see or hear anyone and I refuse to call out to Jimin for fear of unwanted attention, so I slowly make my way to his bedroom. Upon rounding the corner of the hallway, I see the door is cracked enough to see Jimin standing on the far side of the room.

"What the fuck are you doing here?," he says and I am immediately appalled that he could talk to me like that after all that we have been through.

After what I had been through.

I gather up the last bit of strength I can muster and throw open his bedroom door, ready to rage at this man for all I am worth...

...when a sudden movement from my right causes my breath to catch and my body temperature to rise. Suddenly, I don't feel the soreness of my body, I forget I'm covered in gook, my mind going completely and totally blank except for the one thing that now has my undivided attention.

With vile that drips from my lips like honey, I turn back to my startled boyfriend and ask,

"Why the fuck is she here, Jimin?"