𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐂𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐬 | VMINKOOK✔

A Natural Disaster

"Taehyungie? I... I think it would be best not to tell Jimin that... that I know."

I catched my lower lip between my teeth, growing more nervous the longer we waited for Jimin's arrival.

Standing up straight as if we were military men, Taehyung and I waited for our master in the entrance hall like obedient puppies.

Any time now, he would be here. We would be able to hold him again.

"About the... mafia thing," I said quietly, cringing at how my words treated the fact as if it were insignificant.

"The mafia thing," Taehyung repeated mockingly, edging his brow at my way of addressing it.

I rolled my eyes, knowing that the groundskeeper understood what I meant.

"No worries velike oči, I won't tell," Taehyung chuckled, looking at me with that devilish smirk of his. "But might I ask why?"

I sighed, fixing my eyes on the tall entrance door as if it had wronged me somehow. "It's better that way," I said. "Jimin obviously doesn't want me to know. So that means he doesn't fully trust me yet. It's my job to work on that."

Taehyung frowned at me as if I weren't making any sense. "Zeka-"

The front door opened, sunlight escaping into the entrance hall as Jimin and his chauffeur entered the house, the latter carrying the many suitcases we had noticed to be missing while searching for our master.

Taehyung and I rushed to aleviate the chauffeur, taking all the suitcases from his hands like the helpers we were.

Jimin walked right past Taehyung and I, drifting towards the stairs as if he couldn't see us, as if we were invisible to him.

I shared a concerned look with Taehyung, and we hurried to carry the heavy suitcases after the millionaire, following in silence, like the servants we were.

It was as if each of us was too afraid to speak, unsure of each other's mindsets and even more confused about how to handle them.

When we entered Jimin's room, Taehyung and I set down the man's belongings, the atmosphere stiff and cold despite the humid weather.

I could say that this was not how I had imagined Jimin to come home to us when I played the scene out in my head. I had imagined him to jump into my arms, hug Taehyung and laugh at seeing our faces again. I expected him to show even just a hint of gladness, but perhaps I was being foolish to believe the millionaire would so easily take of his mask again.

"You... you left," Taehyung spoke up quietly as Jimin began unbuttoning his suit, the groundskeeper looking up through his lashes as if the millionaire intimidated him. He seemed scared almost, and I had never seen Taehyung look at Jimin that way.

"You never told us," Taehyung said, his voice growing weaker.

The millionaire parted his lips to speak but closed them quickly, barely sparing us a look as he stripped himself of his shirt.

If I were being honest, Jimin seemed fine. In the past when the boy came back from Italy, he needed to be held and kept company for days. We'd have to gently bring him back to life, but this time he was different. He seemed calmer. More mature.

"It seemed like the right thing at the time," Jimin answered after making us both wait, letting his trousers puddle on the floor before gracefully stepping out of them.

"The right thing?" Taehyung asked, and I could hear him try to still his outrage.

"We were worried," I quickly pitched in, trying to diffuse Taehyung's emotions before they could take control of him.