BTS Imagines and Preferences

Your Enemy Becomes Your Bodyguard - Part Thirteen

"This is unfair," you said, watching as Jimin packed his things. Most of it was in the guest room down the hall, but his essentials has ended up in your room. His favorite books, his toiletries, his comforter, and pillow all we're spread across your space.

"It's all right, Y/N," he said, folding up his comforter and smashing it on top of everything in his suitcase. "I signed the contract. I knew the consequences of getting too comfortable."

You scoffed and blinked back tears. Your gaze blurred with your thoughts and you tried to bring the focus back, focusing on the late tendrils of sunlight that came through your window.

You moved forward and wrapped your arms around his waist, pressing your cheek to his chest. It was the only thing that felt right in the moment.

"Y/N?" he asked, his voice a little shaky from being caught off guard. You could feel his gaze on the top of your head and you just closed your eyes to savor it.

His arms soon relaxed around you and fell into place along the swell of your hips. Neither of you said anymore as his chin came to rest on your head.

How did things end up this way? A few weeks ago, you would've taunted him as he packed his bags and thrown a party for one when he left. But now, it only felt like your heart was ceramic and shattering to pieces.

"I don't need protecting anymore. I'll be okay, so just focus on your career, okay? I know didn't want your first job out of school to be protecting some daughter of a asshole colonel."

Jimin reached up and cleared the hair that clung to the tear stains on your cheeks. His eyes felt warm against your skin like he was the first sun of summer after a long winter.

"I'll always protect you. Whether you need it or not," he said, his plump lips forming into the smallest of smiles. You could see a few stray tears forming and you reached up to brush them away before they could fall.

"He's been indicted now. No one should try to come after me anymore." Your hands wandered down to the hem of his shirt and began fiddling with it. "Although, I don't think they ever were. I think they just wanted to scare my dad."

Jimin let out a small mumble that sounded somewhat affirmative, but the way his shoulders tensed around you told you that he didn't fully agree. Although, it was his job to always assume that you were under threat.

"You still have my number," Jimin said. "Should you ever need me." He backed out of the hug and zipped up his suitcase with a sound that radiated finality.

He avoided your gaze and you felt a pain in the bottom of your stomach. You didn't seek out his gaze, knowing you wouldn't want to see the look in his eyes anyway.

"Or, you can just call me. Anytime. Okay, Princess?"

"Okay."

You watched him leave your bedroom and listened as he descended the stairs, the wheels of his suitcase eventually meeting the hardwood floor of the foyer.

And he was gone.

***

"You're going to do another press conference?" You asked, crossing your arms over your chest. "But you've already been indicted and can't leave the house. Are they going to let you do that?"

"We're going to do it here. Outside, on the porch." He paused. Your father hadn't shaved for a day or two and his normal stubble was turning into a dark beard, peppered with specks of gray.

"Still, do you think it's a good idea? I don't think anyone's opinion of you is going to change. At least until the verdict."

"It's not about swaying public opinion," Jiseok said. He leaned against your father's desk and you noticed the way he wore his sleeves rolled up, a designer watch latched around his wrist. "We want to give an honest apology and an explanation of why the decision was made. Without divulging sensitive information of course."

You sighed. It seemed useless to do another press conference. It would only bring more attention to the case, to you, to the inevitable downfall of your family.

"I want you by my side, Y/N," he said, his voice soft. "You give me strength and make me hopeful for the future."

You wanted to roll your eyes, but refrained. "Whatever," you said. "Just tell me when to be there."

As you walked out of the room, Jiseok followed you. He grabbed your wrist, forcing you to turn and face him. His grip wasn't bruising, but you still rubbed where his fingers had met your skin.

"Y/N," he said, his voice was the quietist you imagined his voice went. "You know how important this is, righ? That you appear by his side?"

"Yeah, yeah," you said, crossing your arms and not holding back your eye roll like earlier. "His progressive daughter still supporting him and standing by him. Blah blah blah."

Jiseok nodded, his face relaxed. "Good."

***

Two days later, you stood on your porch and the makeshift podium. You had gotten in place, even though they were still setting up the cameras and microphones. The press were lounging around, waiting for it to start.

You dug out a standard black dress for the occasion. Considering you could not go shopping, it was easier to just put on the old dress, even though it fit a little snuggly.

The camera operators nodded as everything fell into place. You watched as the crowd organized itself on your front lawn and a particular figure caught your eye.

Jimin stood off to the side, although still towards the front. He was dressed nice enough to blend in, but casually enough that it was obvious he was not a journalist.

You mind wandered at all the reasons he could've come, but you met his eyes and something told you that it wasn't for your father.

You didn't have long to let your mind run through all the possibilities as the conference began immediately.

The questions began flooding in and you tuned out everything as your focused towards the back of the crowd. It wasn't hard to stay emotionless when you let your vision and thoughts blur together.

"Colonel Y/L/N!" A yell came from somewhere in the crowd. It wasn't the typical desperate shout of a journalist trying to get a direct quote for their article. There was a different desperation there.

"Yes?" you father said, not recognizing the journalist by name or publication like he had many of the others.

"Why is it that you get to maintain such a beautiful family while the victims of your crimes do not?"

Mumbling broke out in the crowd as it became obvious the man was not a journalist. You unconsciously wrung your hands together, clasping them tightly to each other when you noticed to keep from fidgeting.

"My family has nothing to do with this." Your father's voice was firm and his gaze hard as he watched the man get closer and closer to the front.

"They have everything to do with it, Colonel." The man pulled out a fun and gasps became the only audible sound as people ducked to the ground.

You don't remember much. You met eyes with the gun and you watched as his index finger twitched down towards the trigger.

You feet were planted firmly against the porch and your felt your body swaying. It wanted to move, but your body became paralyzed as your spine took in the threat.

A shot rang out.

When you opened your eyes, the first thing you felt were the splinters up and down your body. Your side had met the wooden porch and the dress has not done much to break your fall. The pain in your wrist came around thirty seconds later.

But it was nothing compared to when you recognized the weight on your stomach.

"Princess." You heard and looked down to see Jimin laying against your stomach. He must have tackled you to the ground, saving you from the bullet.

You were about to thank him when you noticed the sweat beading at his hairline and the way his voice sounded strained. Your eyes widened when you noticed the dark stain in the shoulder of his black long sleeved shirt.

"Jimin?" you asked, realizing that his eyes began to lull closed. "Jimin!"