Abroad with Jimin

8

A persistent knocking at the door wakes me up from my nap. I groan.

"You have a key, Kara. Use it." I throw one of my pillows at the door and use the other to cover my head, blocking out the noise. I'm about to drift off again when the knocking gets faster and louder.

"Seriously? Did you come here just to torture me?" I pull myself out of bed and fling open the door, ready to tell Kara off. But it's not her.

"Jimin?" I question. He's leaning against the door frame, panting.

"Sorry." He says, looking me in the eyes. "I didn't know where to go."

"What happened?" I asked. "Did you get in an argument with the guys? Was it – oh, what's his name? Jungkook?"

"No, no. I lied to you. Sky, I'm dying here." He grabs my hand.

"Oh my gosh, you're ice cold."

"Really? Because it feels like I'm on fire." He jokes.

"Come in. I'll make you some soup."

"You're sick, too" he points out, but follows me inside. "You shouldn't be taking care of me." He sits on my bed.

"I'm fine." I lie. He gives me a look that tells me he doesn't buy it. "Ok, I'm dying, too, but I'm still making soup. And take one of these." I throw him the box of Tylenol and a bottle of water.

"Is there a thermostat in here? It feels like an oven." He remarks, slipping his coat and shoes off.

"Alright, make yourself at home, then" I say sarcastically, but he doesn't seem to notice. I watch as he starts to unbutton his jeans.

"Woah, what do you think you're doing?" I shield my eyes, focusing on pouring the soup into a bowl.

"They're so tight." He whines. He's got that right. I put the soup in the microwave and walk over to him.

"Well no one made you wear them, did they?" I tease.

"Do you at least have a t-shirt I can borrow? This sweater isn't doing me any favors, either." He pleads me with his eyes.

"Fine." I sigh, and go look in my drawers for one of the big shirts I wear to bed. When I turn back to throw it to him, I'm met with the sight of his bare torso. His body is so incredible I can't help but stare. He catches me looking and it takes everything in my power to shift my gaze to his eyes.

"You gonna hand over that shirt anytime soon?" He smirks. My whole body turns the shade of a fire truck. The microwave beeps.

"Soup's ready!" I practically shout and throw him the shirt, running to get the bowl. He laughs at me. I grab a spoon and bring the now fully-clothed Jimin his meal.

"Are you going to just stand there and watch me eat?" He asks. Cautiously, I lie down on the bed next to Jimin, with him sitting and leaning against the headboard. I stare at the ceiling, silent, my mind racing.

"You should get some sleep," he tells me, finishing the soup and placing the bowl on my nightstand. I turn my head to look at him. "Don't worry, I'm not going to try anything. I think we both feel too much like crap to do anything like that." He smiles teasingly.

"Park Jimin!" I sit up to hit him with my pillow. He shields his head and snickers at me. "I'm going to tell your manager." I cross my arms.

"Well, we can't have that." He says indifferently.

Something occurs to me. "Are you even allowed to date?" I ask softly.

He waits a moment before answering. "No," he sighs. "I'm not."

"Oh." I say, slipping down under the covers to hide my face.

He lifts the edge of the sheet and kisses my forehead. "I told you, though. I like to break the rules sometimes."