Interwoven ✔️

11~ I See You

"We'll try and get to the bottom of all this and properly record the investigation," the policeman said, though his tone drawled lazily with no sense of urgency.

I stood quietly behind Jimin, a damp cloth pressed against my wound, and watched over his shoulder where two other policemen were dragging the still knocked out criminals, handcuffed, into the flashing blue and red light cars.

Jimin was the one who'd handed the cloth to me before rushing upstairs to call the police. While he'd been gone I'd also washed my face and rinsed out my mouth, desperately trying to free the metallic taste of blood from my mouth after going chomp chomp for my life.

The silver-haired Outworlder was leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed. He nodded once, face eerily expressionless. "Have a good night."

The officer turned away without another word. Jimin closed the door and turned to face me. He grinned. "Well that was an adventure."

"They were going to kill you Jimin," I said softly.

"Unfortunately for them." His grin widened, smug.

Frustration bubbled up in me. "Can you stop taking things so lightly for once?" I demanded. "Your life was in jeopardy!"

At that his gaze softened. "Here." He gently took my arm and pulled me towards the kitchen counter where he helped me up on the stool. "Hang on for a moment while I grab the first aid kit."

The cut on my palm was finally beginning to sting a little and I hissed as I peeled off the cloth, the blood causing the material to stick. The injury wasn't too deep. Probably a faint scar would remain at most. Jimin had mistaken my prior question on whether it would scar as worry, when in reality, part of me actually hoped it would scar.

It would be an interesting story to tell anyone who might ask.

My mind couldn't stop replaying the events that had just taken place. The mess and pain of trying to fend myself against the assassin, then Jimin arriving with his blazing Marks of frost and starlight, the way he'd so quickly disarmed the man, and then his gentle kiss on my fingertips.

I stifled a groan. I knew how to recognize when I had a crush on someone. And it seemed like I was quickly developing a massive crush on my assigned alien— who I'd drunkenly slobbered over, superglued to a bed and possibly endangering his life; not to mention who also just happened to beat up two fully grown men like it was nothing.

Said alien crush appeared again with the first aid kit. He plopped down on the stool beside me and deftly opened the box. "Hold out your hand," he instructed.

I pressed my lips firmly together as he tenderly took my hand into his. I refused to even let a whimper of pain escape as he began cleaning it. Instead, I tried to distract myself by talking. "Where did you learn to fight so well?"

"Those guys didn't know how to fight," he replied simply, head bent and focused on my cut.

"Maybe not professionally. But both of those guys were bigger than you for one, and—"

"Nonsense," Jimin snorted. "No one is bigger than me."

I didn't buy into his attempt of diversion from my question. "I know that no one could have knocked those two down as easily as you without some sort of background in fighting," I finished.

Jimin didn't answer and only reached over to begin rummaging around the different size bandaids in the box.

I dared to reach over and place my uninjured hand on his arm.

The touch alone made him exhale and his shoulders sagged a tiny bit. "I don't want to get into the details," he muttered, tone abruptly flat. "But yes. I do have, as you phrased, a background."