Girl Meets Evil

Chapter Eight

A/N: Happy Birthday BTS!! 💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

Everything hurt ... less as I struggled to sit up in the large room. I don't remember falling asleep but I remember Seokjin giving me something. I looked around, the monitors and instruments were mostly gone. I still had an IV hooked to my hand, but the rest of it was nowhere to be seen. Now that I could see clearly and my mind wasn't fogged by the effect of the medicine, I examined the room more carefully.

The bed was huge, sitting low to the ground on a dark wooden frame that had both straight, hard lines and soft curving ones. The sheets were a soft, cream colored white while the blanket was a deep slate blue with intricate black swirls decorating the cover. It was the focal point of the room, with a large beautifully painted piece hanging above the dark headboard. Directly across the room were two doors perfectly symmetrical with a dark wooden dresser and a TV placed perfectly between. The TV was mounted on the wall and probably larger across than I was tall. I looked dubiously at it, I was never one for watching much.

My eyes wandered to the wall to the right of me, I liked the way the pretty white curtains moved in the breeze. The windows were large and spaced evenly apart, the one closest to me was directly across the room from the door that led out. Aside from a small bookshelf and a chair tucked into the back left corner, there was very little decoration.

I frowned when I realized I hadn't seen Seokjin at all. I pushed myself to the edge of the bed, moving slowly to keep the hissing of pain falling from my mouth involuntarily to a minimum. When I reached the edge, I realized the IV still in my hand wouldn't allow me to move very far, so I yanked it out, holding my finger over the slowly dripping blood and pushed myself to my feet.

I wobbled for a moment, my legs unused to holding my weight, after a second or two I felt more confident. I looked back at the bed, wondering just how long I'd been lying there. My skin didn't feel gritty, exactly, but even thought my hair smelled fine there was an underlying itchiness to my scalp that made me not want to think about it anymore. I was wearing a pair of too large sweatpants that bunched up around my feet and a sweater that swallowed me whole. I laughed a little as I tried to find my hands.

Examining the room further, my eyes fell on something at the end of the bed ... something that looked like a hand. I paused and forced the thought of murdered bodies from my mind, not everything was going to be the worst thing in the world. I inched closer to it, it was small and tan and curled into a fist. It didn't stir as I made my slow approach, gripping the mattress with shaking hands as I attempted to walk. 

When I reached the end of the bed I was hesitant to look, somehow not confronting it made it safer. Like I couldn't be afraid of the dark or the shadows if I just shut my eyes. I forced the fear down and peered over the foot-board, my eyes going wide at what lay before me. 

It was Jimin, at least I think it was Jimin. He was wearing stripped dark blue and white pajama's and his dark hair fell carefully over his face, his cute mochi cheeks were slack in his sleep and I had to grip the foot-board to resist the urge to squeeze them. 

But what wasn't Jimin were the silver and grey fox ears that poked from the crown of his head, or the pointed black nose that twitched slightly in his sleep, or the whiskers that wiggled in the breeze tickling his cheek. He reached up and carefully scratched the skin, only to tuck a hand under his face and on his arm, rolling slightly away from me. I squeaked a little when I saw the silver fox tail poking from right above his cushy tushy.

He rolled over slowly, blinking up at me with silver eyes that even in the middle of the day glinted like molten metal. A shy smile pulled one corner of his mouth up as our eyes met. "Good morning." He said in a low voice. Then he shook his head and by the time the movement was finished, he looked normal and human again.