Intimately Enchanted → pjm ✓

Chapter 11

The blood pounded in her ears. Her heart thudded in her chest. Her hands shook. Her feet tingled. Her vision was disfigured as if she were looking through a fish-eye lens. She had to get away from her mind.

Woken up with monstrous voices screaming and dominating her in sleep, Lorraine was freaking out.

She couldn’t process what and why this was happening to her. You see Lorraine Acker was crazy, quite factually so. She couldn’t hear it anymore, even after waking up the voices haven't stopped.

We love you, Lorraine. You'll keep your mouth shut, wouldn't you?

No one's listening girl! They've been fed hush money! Shut your damn mouth or your life will be a living hell.

It was. It was a living hell. 

She clutched her hair, so tightly that her nails dug into her palms. Her breathing was hard. Really hard. As if she’d just run the London Marathon.

She cried harder, her chest growing tight as bile rose in her throat, an overwhelming sense of dread filled in her as she clutched at the bedsheets.

Her wild hair was everywhere, tears sticking to her honey skin.

It was Jimin who had done this. He had pushed the right buttons. Hell, even his fucking voice was a trigger and now Lorraine was suffering.

Shut it.

Don't think.

Then again, Lorraine was toxic.

And toxic Lorraine needed her pain to feel pleasure. She needed the person who fucked her up so effortlessly to soothe her. She was the epitome of self-destruction.

So she picked up the phone and called Jimin with her still shaking hands.

*

A sudden buzzing in Jimin's ear made him wake up from his deep slumber. He groaned sleepily, shifting comfortably on the bed, eyes pinched shut because of the neon lights of the phone.

He opened his eyes to peek at the caller ID, frowning a little when he saw it was Lorraine calling.

Why would she call this late?

Then he assumed that maybe she fucked up the time. Nonetheless, he picked up the call with a grunt, hugging his pillow closer.

"Lorraine, you know what time is it? It's 3:30 AM. Were you that desperate to talk to me–" his teasing halted when he heard her sobbing on the other line.

She was...crying?

He immediately sat up on the bed, scurrying off from the bedsheets with abrupt panic.

"Lorraine? Lorraine are you– are you crying? What happened?"

Yet the only thing he could hear was her sobs, making him worry even more.

"Raine, answer me! You're worrying me, Lorraine. What happened?"

"Shut up I'm not crying, I'm freaking out."