Here's My Number

48

You set two steamy mugs of hot chocolate on the nightstand and pull your desk chair over to your bed to sit in it.

Jimin huddles on your bed, faded silvery hair already dry and floofy, wrapped in your blanket as he scoots forward and faces you.

You bring your legs up and sit crisscross, hands in your lap, leaning forward to hear what Jimin has to say.

His eyes flit around your face for a moment before focusing on the space between you. "I don't know how to begin..." he mutters.

"How about we discuss the first thing I want to know. How often does Sharon... you know."

Jimin looks up again. "Every night."

Your eyes widen and you straighten your posture. "Every night?"

Jimin nods.

"How bad is it? What does she do?"

"Mostly beating, occasionally burning. Sometimes she'll 'accidentally' drop a knife and if I'm lucky, it either misses or doesn't cut me that deep."

You furrow your eyebrows and reach forward to grab his hands. To touch him in any way that makes you both feel better.

"What happens if you miss a night?"

"Double the next night."

"And- what about the police? You do realize that this is illegal right? The police will take care of it and get it all sorted out."

Jimin shakes his head. "I can't go to the police."

"Why? Does Sharon have something against you?"

"It's... it's not that. If I tell the police, they'll have me checked out and then they'll send me home."

You frown deeper somehow. "You're worried about going home? But-but what about Sharon? You'll be safe from her."

"For that there are two reasons," Jimin says, voice quivering just a little. You catch it and squeeze his hands. "One, I-I don't want to leave you. Not this soon. And... the other reason is... well... if I get taken away from Sharon and sent home... it's only going to get worse."

"What do you mean?" You ask. "How?"

Jimin's face pales.

"Because my parents have been doing the same thing to me for my entire life."

The second the words leave Jimin's lips, tears begin to stream down his cheeks. He looks away and tries to wipe them off with the back of his sleeve, but more come and he takes a moment to shut his eyes tightly and bury his face into his arm. His shoulders shake weakly. He's trying to fight away all the negative feelings. He doesn't want to cry.

You get off of the chair and sit on the bed next to Jimin. You take his arm away from his face and cradle his head into your chest. This is a big confession. Huge. You would be emotional too.

It takes Jimin a few moments to control himself, and when he does, he wraps his arms around your waist and lets you hold him for longer. You stroke his hair, unable to think about anything. It's a funny thing. Whenever something big happens like this, you go into emergency mode, which is to be quiet and not let feelings in. You did this when Jimin told you the first time a while ago that he is getting abused. And here you are again, unable to think or feel.

Your only objective is to comfort Jimin and make sure he is okay.

"I'm-I'm Sorry," Jimin says, his voice muffled. He sniffles. "I don't know why I'm crying."