Panic, panic, panic, panic, panic. That's all Jimin can feel right now, just endless panic coursing through his entire body, leaving his breathing too-fast and limbs shaky. Is he heading into a panic attack? Jimin doesn't know. He doesn't think he's really had one, except for the time his dad had yelled at him and scared him so bad he'd ended up hyperventilating. Jimin thinks he remembers that happening more than once though. Still, he feels like the slighest thing can set him off. The weight of the blanket around his ankles is too light, and Jimin knows the top sheet must have shifted. He bites his lip fiercely, trying to ward off the anxiety that has coiled in his gut. Don't think about it don't think about it don't think about it you're thinking about it it's too light too light you're not safe fix it fix it it will never be perfect it'll go back to being too light DON'T THINK ABOUT IT- On the verge of frustrated tears already, Jimin kicks away the covers and tries to think about something else. The rain. It was calming, or it should be, at least. Oh god, were the doors locked? Would someone be able to break in during Jimin's panic and possibly kill him and Yoongi and Taehyung? He can't think straight with the rain. Was that a car he heard outside? Why was someone driving around the house at this hour? Everything felt wrong. The way his pillow was falling off the bed. The way his sweatpants itched at his legs, and Jimin would take them off if he didn't hate how his hairy and scabbed legs felt rubbing up against eachother. The way Jimin's shirt bunched underneath him, exposing a small bit of his stomach. God, he needs to lose weight, he's so ugly, doesn't understand how anyone could love him. But there's no way anyone does, that's the thing, no one could love someone as dull as Jimin, even if he did have his dream body. Jimin takes a shuddery breath in, the anxiety and panic still there, but slowly being replaced by an overwhelming feeling of loneliness and shame. Not only did he not have his ideal body, he also wasn't smart to make up for it. Which god, sounded so awful because he would never think that about anyone else. Never in a million years. It was different with him. It was just Jimin, something about his personality that drove people away. That caused them to ignore his texts and calls and "hey, you wanna hangout?"s. He didn't know why people stopped talking to him at first. Just assumed it was time for that friendship to be over. Then it was not one, two, or even three people that left, but five, and before Jimin knew it he was left with only two friends in a world that had billions and billions of people living in it. Those two people - Taehyung and Yoongi. God, he loves them. He loves them so much, but they won't tell Jimin what's wrong with him, instead saying things like, "there's nothing wrong with you, you're fine the way you are", and "baby, don't think that way about yourself," but Jimin knows they're too nice for their own good and are probably just trying to spare his feelings. He lets out a loud, lonely cry in the dark room, fisting the blanket in frustration. At least if they told Jimin what was wrong with him, then he'd be able to fix it. Although, maybe it was just something unfixable about Jimin, something no one could quite place but definitely didn't like. Jimin wouldn't be surprised. Tears prick his eyes, and this time he lets them fall. He hears the plunk plunk of them hitting the pillow, and knows that soon he'll be able to feel the warm wetness of his own tears. It's almost laughable how familiar he is with the exact scenario he's in now. I can't do anything right, Jimin thinks, biting his cheek this time as he feels his sinuses starting to clog up. I'm just dumb and nobody will ever love me, and even if they did I would never be able to believe they loved me because I'm just that fucked up. A loud sob rips its way out of Jimin's body and he shakes as he cries into his pillow, trying and failing to avoid hyperventilating.
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