BTS Imagines and Preferences

Your Enemy Becomes Your Bodyguard - Part Three

A/N: Part Four is live on Instagram! Follow me @farfromsuga_ for earlier updates.

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"What did you eat?" Jimin asked, buckling his seatbelt as the driver pulled away from the curb and turned back towards your house.

"It's not food poisoning," you said, you bunched your skirt together, trying to cover your legs as you brought your knees up to your chest.

"This is exactly why he hired me, you know?" You didn't notice the way Jimin's brow furrowed as he noticed the way your hands shook and how you tried to hide it. "You have a way of getting yourself into situations you can't get yourself out of."

"I could've gotten out of that," you said. "I was fine, Jimin. You didn't need to come rescue me like I was some Princess trapped in a tower."

Jimin smirked, slouching slightly in the leather seat. "Oh, but you are, Princess." His entire face darkened. "You get nearly everything you want in life and yet it never seems to be enough for you."

"I'm not doing this right now," you said, feeling the breakdown rise towards your chest. You refused to let yourself cry in front of him, let alone shake with sobs and panic.

"I'm not asking you to argue with me," Jimin said. "I'm telling you to get some perspective. Right now, you need to be a good girl and not get into cars with strange guys because one of them could want you dead."

"Hyunmin's not some strange guy. We all grew up together. It's not like I had anything to worry about."

"Did you know his parents recently came out against your father?"

You stopped. "He showed me his support in private. Besides, I don't even agree with my father fully. Yet, no one seems to care what I think. They all just assume I place my father on some pedestal."

"He does pay your credit card—"

You screamed in frustration as you pulled on your hair. "Why does everyone believe I'm some spoiled brat?"

"Cause you are, Princess." Jimin, despite noticing the way your body shook and the tears threatening to spill, didn't relent in his criticism.

The car pulled up to your house and you got out as soon as it stopped. You wobbled slightly in your heels, but made it to the front door where you flung them off anyway. Closing the door behind you, you didn't hear it latch, causing you to turn around and see Jimin slinking in behind you.

"What are you doing? You've delivered me home. Your job is done."

"Not exactly, Princess." He looked up the stairs, his eyes scanning over family portraits and awards. It wasn't his first time in your house, but it was the only time he has gotten to take it all in.

"What? Is my father moving you in?"

Jimin wrung his hands as your eyes darted over him. You looked a little crazy with your messy hair, dripping eyeliner, and tired eyes. Yet, it only made him want to smile.

"You're kidding me. You're actually staying here? My father doesn't trust me in my own house?" You scoffed before Jimin could answer and walked up the stairs to your room, shutting the door, knowing your father wouldn't have Jimin staying in your room.

You paused and heard him walking down the hall towards the guest room. You finally felt the pounding in your head, the adrenaline making you numb to it until that moment.

Changing, you climbed into bed, barely managing to take your makeup off.

A few hours later

You awoke to the sound of breaking glass. At first, you believed it was only a nightmare. Your heart beating quickly and sweat sprouting at your hairline.

But then it sounded again. And again.

Your body tensed and you froze. Even your breath paused as you waited for the sound of breaking glass. Other than the shattering sound, it was silent.

There was an odd rhythm to it. Moments of quiet, followed by smashing. Footsteps sounded on the stairway, and you could hear your father's guards yelling to each other outside.

That meant you weren't imagining it. That there wasn't earthquake that caused all the wine glasses to fall from the cupboards. Someone was downstairs, and it sounded like they were coming up.

Your frozen state turned into a boxer's stance. You'd taken a few boxing lessons in high school and your father taught you self-defense maneuvers. Soon, your eye caught on the metal baseball bat in your closet.

You hardly used it anymore, having given up the sport when you entered college. Tiptoeing to your closet, you wrapped your hands around it and stood to the side of the door.

The doorknob turned and your held back a whimper. Tightening your grip, your closed your eyes.

The door opened and you never swung. When you opened your eyes, you found Jimin standing in front of you, a bemused look on his face. However, it slowly shifted to concern at the sound of more breaking glass.

"The bathroom," Jimin said, whispering. While it was hushed, his voice held an authority that you could not ignore.

The two of you walked into the bathroom that adjoined your bedroom. He locked the door and sat down against the bathtub, motioning for you to do the same.

"What's going on?"

"It sounds like there might be an intruder. I'm not sure. I came straight to you."

"Jimin, why is this happening? Why is it our family taking the fall for all of this? It wasn't just dad. All he did was cover it up, he didn't kill anyone innocent, Jimin. He didn't—"

Your voice became tears quickly, although you didn't allow them to spill. You simply allowed the choke in your throat to cut you off, not speaking up again. Wrapping your arms around your knees, you could hear your father's guards yelling downstairs.

"You did a good job finding a weapon,"
Jimin said, reaching down the bat that was laid between you. "If you hadn't closed your eyes you might've given me a concussion."

"Or cracked your skull."

"Or that." He eyed the bathroom door. "I'm glad you hesitated this time. But if it's not me, you need to swing as hard as you can."

"I took self defense classes. I'm not helpless. I was just caught off guard."

"Right," he said, still weary of your skills that obviously had never been used. "I can h—"

Jimin was cut off by the sound of someone entering your room. Three solid knocks sounded on the bathroom door and Jimin stood up, holding out his hand.

You took it and stood up. Jimin opened the door and one of the secret service agents nodded that it was safe to come out. The man barely looked at you and it was only then you realized you wore only a spaghetti strap camisole and shorts.

Treading lightly down the stairs, you stopped when you felt the squeeze of Jimin's hand.

"Y/N," he said. "There's glass." Your foot hovered over the next step that was covered in glass shards. You looked up to see all of your father's awards, family photos, and even your mother's glass china cabinet smashed. Picture frames lay face down on the ground and broken porcelain looked like snowflakes powdered against the dark hardwood floor.

No one seemed interested in the broken treasures, everyone stared up at the wall that had once held them. Looking up, the sight made you shiver.

"Who is next?" The red spray paint read.

It was only then you realized how tightly you gripped Jimin's hand.