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Warning: mature content ahead! _________
You haven't seen Hoseok in days.
After he was kicked out by your father, there hasn't been any sign of him. You've been trying to mind link him, but he has blocked you from doing so. If you were to take a guess as to where he is, your first answer would be the Blood Moon pack. But if he doesn't want to talk to you, he definitely doesn't want you to come after him either.
"Sweetheart...darling...my love.."
"Huh?" Your head snaps up, the last word catching your attention.
"You like that one, huh?" Jimin smiles, a soft sparkle in his eyes. He's sitting in the chair across from you, keeping you company as you do some work. But it didn't take long for you to zone out. You've been doing that a lot lately.
"I'm sorry, I'm just.." You sigh, putting your head in your hands.
"Hey, no need to apologize." He reassures you, reaching across your desk to grab your hand in his. "How about we do something fun? You've been drowning yourself in work lately and I don't like seeing you like this." Jimin tries to hide it, but worry is written all over his face.
You nibble at your bottom lip, thinking about it for a moment before nodding. "Okay."
He immediately jumps up from his chair with a bright smile, pulling you out of your chair as well. He leads you downstairs and you're surprised when he stops in the kitchen.
It's empty because it's still fairly early in the day, so the chefs haven't started cooking dinner yet. "What fun could we have in the kitchen?" You raise an eyebrow at him.
Jimin grins. "Baking."
"But I dont know how to bake.." You mumble with a pout.
"It's okay, I'll teach you. A cake is simple enough, right?"
You nod and Jimin immediately begins to move around the kitchen with expertise, grabbing ingredients and equipment.
"First, flour." He hands you the unopened bag and you immediately rip it open with brute strength. "Wait, don't-"
You gasp when the bag immediately pops open, the white powder covering your clothes as well as the counter and the floor. "..open it like that." Jimin finishes his sentence with a small giggle, looking at the mess you've made. "Maybe I should do this part." He gently takes the ripped bag of flour from your hands, pouring some into a large bowl.
Sugar seems less destructive so he lets you measure it out and add it to the mix. "Should I trust you with the eggs?" He mumbles, almost more to himself than to you.
