BTS Imagines and Preferences

Your Enemy Becomes Your Bodyguard - Final

A/N: Thank you for reading and supporting this series. I didn't expect it to go on so long. Therefore, I'm thinking of putting it into its own book. Any thoughts on that? If I do that, I will need a better title, so drop your title suggestions in the comments.

vVv

"Hey!" Jiseok ran towards you, his long legs quickly closing the distance between you and his hands coming down on your shoulders. He pulled you away from where the paramedics loaded Jimin into the ambulance.

His face was covered with the oxygen mask and his eyes were open only a sliver. You couldn't tell if he was conscious or not and the only thing you wanted to do was to climb into that ambulance and hold his hand.

"He needs to get into surgery," Jiseok said, his voice softer than you had ever heard it. "It was a shoulder hit. He'll probably be fine."

"Probably isn't definitely," you said, watching as the ambulance pulled away, it's siren blaring as it pulled onto the road and towards the hospital.

You turned back to see your father still standing behind the podium on the porch. It was as if he hadn't moved, despite the journalists dispersing, the guards deploying, and the shooter running.

The shooter had already been caught in your backyard and taken away. It was odd. The man had aimed his gun at you and pulled the trigger. Your life the most in danger since the accident with Jiseok. Yet, your stayed calm, almost content.

You hadn't fainted or lost your breath. As soon as you met Jimin's eyes, your body no longer registered the panic for your own life. Only his.

The crowd—while it had died down—was beginning to crowd around again. News reporters stood outside your house, reporting the shooting and aftermath. They named you as the victim of an attempted assassination. Saying that a member of your father's staff was shot.

It seemed so unfair. Jimin took a bullet for you and his name didn't even air. He was reduced to his employment. You knew this was normal. Bodyguards were meant to take the bullet silently, without any praise or mention for their act. You knew Jimin was trained to do so.

Yet, as your mind barreled through the tunnel of thoughts like a high speed train, the tears finally came. Sobs left your throat and you felt  the entire world crash down on you.

It took you a moment to register Jiseok's hand directing you towards the house. The tug against your skin was soft, but it burned as you realized his fingertips brushed over the same skin where the bullet ripped through Jimin.

"No," you said, you voice soft, but firm. "I'm going to the hospital."

You didn't care what your father would want. If it were up to him, you were sure he would lock you in your bedroom like Rapunzel.

Jiseok let out a breath. It wasn't quite a sigh, nor a scoff. It sounded like he wanted to fall asleep right there on the grass.

"You can't go like that," he said, his eyes looking down at your dress stained with Jimin's blood.

You'd barely realized that his blood was still on your hands from where you had put pressure on the wound. It caked against your legs from the here it pooled on the porch after he tackled you.

"Go up and get ready," he said. "Grab an overnight bag."

You looked at Jiseok with shock. The last time he had been so friendly towards you was back in high school when you were dating.

"Why are you helping me? Won't my dad fire you?"

Jiseok grabbed you chin and forced you to look up at him. Unlike that night after the first press conference, his touch was soft and he touched you like a fine piece of china.