#but to emphasize - it doesn't care ic their opinion is none of it matters so they don't give a fuck

[vivanightcity]

Name: Adiel Miller

Age: 27

Gender: None, they barely align with ‘human’ fuck having a gender. 

Pronouns: Any and all, with a personal love for ‘it/its’, a sort of reclamation of the dehumanizing language it was raised with. (Practically, you can mix and match, or just pick one and use it, it’s all good)

Lifepath: Streetkid 

Occupation: Doll at a dollhouse that works with a number of corpo hotels and short term rental style hotels in Downtown. Can be found in a number of BDs still knocking about though. 

Cyberware: Doll chip, prototype long term behavioral chip, scratchers and big knucks (reinforced nails and knuckles that are concealable and look like standard human parts) 

Sexuality: People hot. That’s about it. 

Born and raised in NYC. Their parents worked themselves to the bone to get by and take care of him, but it was always a struggle. Maybe the city wasn’t as bad as Night City is now, but it was still a far cry from safe or easy. When it was around 15, and already getting into trouble and running around acting like he had a damn clue, Arasaka (subject to change what corp, I just thought it tied in with their vibe) started contacting parents of minors with records. Offering them an opportunity. A bright future and a new start for their son, get them out of trouble and away from bad influences before things get worse. All it took was signing away its bodily autonomy and they got a good payout and one less mouth to feed. 

They were testing out some more long term behavioral chips targeted at wealthy families, a hopefully safer and more useful version of what was already in use in juvenile correction facilities. A fully customizable range, as much or as little control as wanted across a host of 'problem' behaviors. Even focused on pushing manners and etiquette. It could dissuade kids from indulging, make them obey their parents without question, or just give them a ‘helping hand’ in sitting still and focusing on school. A replacement for conversion therapy, fat camps and drugs, all in one easy package that could be installed when your kid went in for routine work. They never needed to know! But of course that sort of work needed thorough testing before going to market with people who could afford it, and having empirical proof of its efficacy was always good for marketing. 'This wonderful neuralware could make even the worst kids act like a child you'd be happy to have next to you at for press conferences and family dinners'.

A controlled environment, classes to show the improvement rate of those with the chip and those without. Little corrections to strength of influence, fine tuning and fixing it up as they went. So what if some other kids never came back from the surgery room? Price of progress. They’d do big demonstrations pretty frequently, every few months, showing off test scores, video comparisons of posture, attitude, vocabulary use, antisocial behaviors etc. etc. Then the suits visiting would get a chance to interact. To test the parameters themselves, screaming abuse or even pushing whatever sorry sack was chosen for the demo around, proving that these kids - most of which, like Adiel, had some history of violence - would never argue back to those they were told to obey. 

Few short years later, Adiel was around 18, everything seemed golden. Working as intended. Even kids they took the chips out of, or turned them off in the case of some earlier models which couldn’t be safely removed, didn’t seem to be suffering the same level of addiction and withdrawal as seen in traditional behavioral chips on the market. There wasn’t NONE, but it was a manageable amount comparatively. At that point, they turfed everyone out, loosed unto a world they’d been isolated from for a few years, and in the case of a fair number of them, stuck with various degrees of control still implanted in them. ‘A reward for their help’. Saying it would help them stay on the straight and narrow, when really, in the world around them, it just set them up to be manipulated and controlled.

They put protections on the hardware, and the software was heavily encoded. No one Adiel has gone to for help has been able to safely remove it, and the rumor was that someone who tried triggered some sort of anti piracy/corpo espionage failsafes and them and the ripperdoc ended up mulch. Even after it entered the market during Arasaka’s big push in the early 2070s to get back in with the NUSA and free states money, it took money to access the kind of docs who had it on the shelves, and even when he scraped together enough it turned out what they had going was different enough from the market release that it was still a risk. 

So it’s still there. Nearly ten years and a cross country relocation later. Despite everything it went through because of Arasaka, they are the reason he moved to NC. When the city became the international hub it was, and Arasaka’s new north american headquarters, Adiel figured it was their best chance. Get back on their radar, get a foot in that door, and get the damned thing removed or turned off so they could get back to some semblance of a normal life where they doesn’t have to avoid everyone in white coats, expensive suits, or decked out in arasaka combat armor. Eventually, Addy was able to get hired. Went in for a physical and for them to check its doll chip and make sure he didn’t have any sort of spyware installed, made the mistake of telling the doc checking it over what was up, and got sent away with the promise they’ll look into it… Only he woke up the next day to a termination message. No more arasaka job, no more answers, no more way in. 

And that leads us to here. Burnt out from working non stop to get to NC and then get in with Arasaka, only for it to fall apart. Found working as a doll and sticking to hobbies far away from armed guards, docs and corpos, was the best way to control when he was near people who could fuck with him. Then the fancy suits were already paying for their time, and they didn’t have to remember doing what they said. 

One of the only good things that came out of his time with Arasaka was the opening of doors and access to education and the time to explore. Where it grew up there weren’t any stars visible. Even outside of the city the most you could see were satellites that were near enough to shine through light pollution. Getting to see stars, not only as they used to be, but through flicks and even BDs from orbit. To feel so small was freeing. Getting there is something it longs to do. 

Any sort of hobby or task that can be repeated methodically, over and over, to practice and perfect, is the kind of thing Adiel leans into. Repetition, focusing so completely onto the task over and over, helps to calm it down, to think things through. Worryingly, he’s not sure if this was always the case, or if it’s yet another side effect. One that can have it so completely wrapped up in a drill that they don't stop to rest or eat or anything until made to. Shifting that focus sucks, and getting pulled out of it can be jarring and stressful. 

A side effect of the behavioral chip is a sort of mirroring. His posture, inflection, language use, it seems to shift and alter depending on who it’s talking to. Reacting to the people around it to fit in. Well. He thinks it’s a side effect, it could also just be a survival method because of how he grew up. 

[ripspaghet]

bff | 04

↳ series m.list | 00 | 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 |

→ pairing: yoongi x reader

→ word count: 4,750

Prologue Summary; Your best friend's boyfriend takes an unhealthy interest in you and just as he shows up something from your past starts to creep up on you again. Could this strange and mysterious man have something to do with it? And should you trust him, or your instincts to run far, far away from him?

→ warnings: angst, swearing

The bell overhead chimes as the doors open, making Seokjin's mouth finally clamp shut before another word can make you slam your head into the register. Your shift had only begun and he was already on a roll about being forced to clean the toilets earlier.

"Welcome to Sil's Coffee, how may we help you?" The slogan fell off your lips like a sigh of relief as you plaster on a bright smile for the customer, coming in from the frigid outside air.

A chuckle erupts from the customer, "I see Seokjin is harassing you again."

"W-What?! I do not-"

"I'd like an iced mocha with caramel. Could you fetch that for me Jin?" Mina slides into the bar chair in front of Seokjin, who bites his tongue before turning around to make her order. The man may loathe his job, but there was no way he'd allow himself to be fired.

"Honestly, just tell him to shut up. You don't have to listen to his whining."

You can hear Seokjin muttering inaudible profanities at Mina and you let out an actual sigh this time, "Seokjin is just expressing himself."

"And this is the best way he knows how? How sad."

"You're coffee." You flinch as a cup is slammed onto the counter and slid into Mina's hands.

"Thanks, handsome." She grins endearingly up at him.

"Can you leave now?" 

"Oh, how rude of you to say to a customer. I wonder what the manager would say?"

You pinch the bridge of your nose, "Mina, stop, for fuck sake." Seokjin is presumably the only person who dislikes Mina more than Jimin, although Mina doesn't dislike Seokjin. She actually likes him, despite his constant rambling. 

Another chime grabs everyone but Mina's attention back to the entrance to see your stumbling yellow-haired friend enter the shop. He swore as he tripped on the entrance's floor-mate, but quickly composed himself and looked up to send you a dazzling smile before gracefully making his way over the seat in front of you, "Good morning, my ray of sunshine." You open your mouth to return the gesture just before someone else strides in behind him. Dark hair, dark eyes, and pale skin sporting a baggy tee and flannel with tight frayed jeans. You grimace at the sight. Of course, he was here. Why wouldn't he be? Mina was here and wherever Mina was, he had the right to be.

"Couldn't you have done us all a favor and let yourself fall?"

"Like I'd ever do a favor for the likes of you." Jimin retorted swiveling around in his chair. 

It's been exactly three weeks since your first session with Yoongi began and you still haven't grown comfortable with the whole ordeal. Especially since Yoongi had all of a sudden started making an effort to include himself in Mina's life more, resulting in him almost always being around. Which is great for Mina, just not so great for you.

"Anyways, how is my love doing?" Jimin reached out for your hands and smiled at you in a way that made it impossible for you to not return the gesture.

"I'm alright." You squeezed his hands reassuringly before pulling away to make his usual drink. At least you had Jimin most of the time. He did a great job of pulling your attention off of the guy just a few feet away from you and settling your nerves.

"I heard how Namjoon left you high and dry. Taehyung has been dogging me for studying material ever since. Is your project coming along alright? I can help you with it?" You tense as you begin pouring the chocolate syrup into Jimin's drink. Maybe you'd spoken too soon again? You hadn't told anyone about studying with Yoongi, out of fear of what Mina would do and judging from the lack of passive aggression coming from her, Yoongi hadn't said anything either.

"N-no, I've got it. You don't need to do that."

"She'd fail for sure if you helped her."

"Mina, nobody was talking to you. Can you shut that trap of yours?" You turn back around and place Jimin's cup in front of him just as Mina reaches over to whack him on the back of the head.

"Yah! Don't you touch me, you witch!"

"Me? A witch?" Mina laughed, "Well, that must make you a troll."

"Mina, stop that." Yoongi's cold metallic voice caught you off guard and you made the mistake of shifting your gaze over to him just as Mina began whining, merely to see he was already watching you, his brown eyes intense and dark. 

Things have been very awkward, for you to say the least. You didn't know what to make of this new relationship you had with Yoongi. Hell, even calling it a relationship felt weird and from every angle, it just seemed wrong. When you so much as looked in Yoongi's direction you felt like you'd just transgressed some imaginary line you'd drawn for yourself. Or maybe it had been drawn by Mina. It was normal for the girl to be possessive and paranoid, even more so when it came to a guy she liked. Mina had been friends with a girl in the past that had stolen guys from her left and right, so now she always assumed you, one of her few female friends, was always plotting against her and knowing this made you extremely cautious.

"You two have been extra snarky this week."

You cleared your throat, trying your best to not seem uncomfortable, "Would you like something to drink, Yoongi?"

"A black coffee would be nice."

You nodded, turning again only to have Seokjin place a black coffee in your hands, "I figured he'd order that again, so I went ahead and made it."

"Oh, here," You slid the drink over to Yoongi, sure to avoid eye contact this time.

"Well, with ____ spending all her time studying lately, I'm left alone to deal with this nuisance." Mina jabbed her finger at Jimin.

"What? I'm the nuisance and yet you're the one constantly complaining about this and that and never shutting up?"

"Shut your mouth Park." Mina flushes red as Yoongi turns his head over, suddenly taking interest in their conversation.

Jimin scoffs and turns back to you, "So, can I hear it?"

"Huh?" You tilted your head.

"Namjoon told me about it, don't be coy. I wanna hear it."

Your cheeks flush at the realization of what he was talking about, "He did what?! No way. I'm not letting you hear anything."

"What are we talking about?" 

"We," Jimin looking back at Mina, pointing at her and then himself, "aren't talking about anything. Me and ____ are." Mina scoffs and turns away from him as he does the same, overeating his attention back on you, "My best friend won't let me hear her sing?"

"What best friend? Last I checked you have no friends." Mina mumbles under her breath, rolling her eyes at Jimin's pouting lips while sipping her drink. He scowls but is quick to ignore her in favor of you.

Damn, they really are at each other's necks right now.

"Why are you embarrassed? I know you're good. Namjoon said your voice is amazing. In fact, he gushed about it."

"Stop rambling and leave me and my voice alone, Park Jimin."

"You cutie, you're all red, like a tomato." He reaches up to pinches at your cheek but you quickly swat his hands away.

"Shut up."

"Let me hear it and I'll shut up for the rest of my life, just for you."

"No." You turn away from him to busy yourself with work, emphasizing your seriousness. There was no way in hell you'd ever let Jimin, or anyone else for that matter, hear you sing. Sure, Namjoon and Yoongi had heard it, but- your gaze drifted over to Yoongi again to see a small smirk playing on his lips as he stirred his coffee. 

"God, you two make me wanna vomit. I can't believe you refuse to admit your dating each other." Seokjin finally spoke again as he wiped down the counter-tops.

"Seriously, get a room," Mina adds.

"Says the two who bicker at each other like a married couple," Jimin smirked over at Mina, who just about spit her coffee out her nose.

"What?!"

"We do not!"

Message from Min Yoongi- 8:11am: The door is unlocked. Just come in when you get up here.

After work, you stalled around a bit before heading towards Yoongi's. You knew if you left right after your shift, Jimin would've tried to tag along. He normally walked you home when he got the chance and as far as he knew you'd been going home every week to work on your project alone. 

Your stomach turns as the elevator finally comes to a halt, the doors sliding open, and you step out. More than anyone else, you wanted to tell Jimin about this. You knew he'd have the best advice for you, but you also realize that Jimin hates Mina. He would probably let the information slip on purpose just to piss her off. He'd prefer not to be friends with her because, in his opinion, she's faker than all the plants in his dance teacher's office. You don't doubt he'd take any chance he could to try and show you that, probably saying something along the lines of, "It's for your own good, trust me."

Honestly, you're starting to get pretty sick of this. All the elevator rides you've had to endure are almost as bad as riding an airplane, never knowing if it's going to give out or just break and send you to a gruesome death. You head for Yoongi's door, sending a glare back at the box of threatening death as it's doors slide shut again. You've tried to convince Yoongi on countless occasions to meet elsewhere, but he declines each time, saying, "Why would I go somewhere else when I'm most comfortable here?" You roll your eyes at the memory. That self-centered jerk doesn't care what you put yourself through every week to get to here. Making sure none of your friends, especially Mina, see where you're going, facing your fear of that dumb elevator while doing so, and lying practically to Jimin. Mina would assume you're sleeping with Yoongi if she ever found out. It wouldn't matter what you told her. And imagine if she did find out, even after all your efforts? Every week you had to put up with Min Yoongi's self-centered attitude and constant complaints about how you're, "Too early." Or, "Too late." Not to mention you've been feeling under the weather lately.

One of these days you're really gonna to jump from one of the windows on this floor just to escape from Min Yoongi, because at this point it feels like there is no escape. You go to school, he's there with Mina. You go to work, he shows up with Mina. What did you have in life, if not peace away from that guy?

You give the front door two gentle taps before entering. The penthouse was the same as always, warm and quiet, as the world outside opposed it. It was probably the only thing you enjoyed when meeting with Yoongi, the quiet, something you normally got so little of.

"Back here!"

You jump, whirling in a full circle before figuring out where the voice came from. You follow it down a hallway and to a room. Little decoration fills the room and it's relatively empty, except for a grand piano occupying the center.

"I figured we could transfer your cords into a melody on the piano to place at the deeper parts of the song. I have a feeling it will sound good with your voice." 

Your breath catches in your throat, your wide-eyed stare never leaving the piano Yoongi is sat at, as he writes, what assumed to be, notes onto a piece of paper.

"Come sit, " He gestures you over, still not looking at you. Your feet feel like they've rooted themselves to the floor and it takes all of your strength just to do as he says and bring yourself to the piano, trying your best to ignore the way your heart stills as you sit down next to Yoongi, a sharp fear piercing through you like cold wind.

"You play?" Your voice comes out dry as your eyes linger on ivory keys.

"Yeah, I learned when I was little." Yoongi finally brought his gaze over to you to watch as you lightly move your fingertips up and over the keys, "Do you?"

You frown and pull your hand away from the piano, "No."

Yoongi hums and places his fingers onto the keys before playing the first few notes of your song, "That's too bad. This would be a lot easier if you did."

"Well, I don't." You sneer at the sound of your song coming from the piano and stand back up, realizing that this had been a horrible idea, "Listen, I'm not feeling up for this today. I'm gonna go." Your mind was beginning to cloud with distraught memories and all you could focus on was getting away from the piano as you stood up. You weren't fast enough though.

Yoongi stood up after you, following you out of the room, "Is everything alright?"

"I just want to go home."

His pace quickened as you approach the front door and he was in front of you before you could reach it, "Do you not like the piano idea?"

You glare at him, "The idea is fine, I just want to go home, as I said."

His eyes dart all across your face as if he's still trying to read you, to understand what had set you off.

"I'll be going now." You attempt to sidestep him, only to be abruptly cut off by Yoongi placing a hand to your forehead, "W-what are you-"

"You look really pale, I don't think you should-Woah," He steps back out of shock after feeling your temperature, "you're burning up."

"I'm fine, just let me-"

"____," Yoongi's eyes narrow on you, his voice dropping a couple octaves, "go sit on the couch and I'll get you some medicine."

You hesitate for only a moment before giving in, "Fine, whatever." You stomp away from him, over to the couch before plopping down onto it. Admittedly, your head was starting to pound and you couldn't deny the cold sweat that was beginning to settle in along with the aching of your whole body. It'd be just your luck that you'd caught the flu or something, only to start showing symptoms after arriving at Yoongi's, of all places. You'd honestly prefer being at Jimin's house right about now and he'd probably be smothering you right about now. You should've just canceled today and walked home with Jimin.

"Here, take this." Yoongi returns within a few minutes, crouching down in front of you before placing a pill in one of your hands and a glass of water in the other, "This should reduce your fever." 

"And how am I suppose to trust that you're not drugging me?" You raise an eyebrow at him accusingly, but he just gives you a skeptical look.

"It's ibuprofen, ____." 

You watch him hesitantly, before plopping the pill into your mouth, and tilting your head back to drink the glass of water. You hadn't expected yourself to drink the whole thing, but you did, and rather quickly. 

Yoongi takes the glass from you and places it on the coffee table behind him, "Are you hungry?"

"I really don't-" You're cut off by the sound of your treacherous stomach growling at the mention of food.

"I'll make soup." Yoongi gets up again, heading back to the kitchen before you get the chance to protest further than you already have. Your head is starting to spin and you have to lay down just to keep yourself from running to the bathroom to vomit. No way would you be caught dead throwing up in Min Yoongi's bathroom. You'd jump from a window before that happens. You close your eyes, waiting patiently for Yoongi to return with food. You hadn't even noticed yourself drifting off.

The ground beneath is dry, altered to a sandy substance. Dull silence replaces loud screeching alarms, and instead of hazy darkness, something else lurks amongst the unknown. The difference between now and then is an odd sense of familiarity tugging at your heart. You know all too well what this nostalgia is, but you refuse to move towards it. The mere memories are enough to coax out inner demons dwelling behind your walls. A place you once called home.

“It's unnecessary, ____.”

A harsh memory, filled with a harsher smell of gin and gasoline forces itself forward. One of those memories a child prefers to suppress, yearning to someday forget it...pretend it never happened. Although, bad memories die-hard, just as bad habits do and the specific way that man had always held onto second agendas and gave everything a double standard was etched into your mind. You can never seem to escape him, no matter how hard you try. 

Especially here. 

Such a strange feeling it gave you. Do others feel this? A looming dark hole in the cradle of their heart, remaining, even if eventually, and inevitably, a change comes. A childlike intuition told you how it was fated, as it was for a reason beyond your knowing that the place you once called your home would burn, that - that man's eyes would close and the smell of gin and gasoline would fade into something much more horrendous, along with that godforsaken piano. And then, and only then, you would realize that home never truly felt like home.

"____?"

And him, that damned voice will only further remind you of that misery and loss.

"Wake up, it's just a dream."

Mark my words.

"____," You whimper at the feeling of someone's hand against your cheek and you lean into it, "what's wrong?"

Your eyes open slowly and it's only then that you realize the wet tears running down your cheeks, "W-what?"

"Why are you crying?" You look up, seeing Yoongi's dark worried eye on you as he wipes away your tears with his thumb.

You sit up slowly, your head still spinning and skin still aflame with a fever, "I-I don't remember."

"Here," Yoongi moves an arm under your legs and to your back before hoisting you up.

"W-what are you doing?! Put me down!" You have no strength to fight against him in your current state, but that doesn't stop you from yelling at him.

"I'm moving you somewhere comfortable, be quiet." He walks out of the living room and back down the hallway that had previously brought you to the piano room, only this time he walks passed that room and into another at the end of the hallway. He sits you down on a bed and covers you with a blanket, "I'll go heat up the soup, and once you're done eating you should get some more sleep."

You only nod and watch as Yoongi leaves the room before pushing the covers off of you and standing back up. You make your way over to the door and back down the hall, only briefly stopping to leer into the piano room. You'd have to make up an excuse later to leave the piano out of your song. There's no way you'll be able to stomach hearing the sound of it every time you work on the piece. Once you make it to the front door you're quick to exit, despite hearing Yoongi's footsteps exiting the kitchen at the same time. You don't care all too much if he sees you leaving, you just need to leave. Sure, your head is spinning and your joints ach, but letting Yoongi take care of you while sick is crossing that line that had been laid down. 

While in the elevator you have to sit on the floor and pray to reach the bottom soon. The motion of moving down is only making you all the more nauseous, so when the doors finally open you're surprised to see that the sun has already set, despite you showing up here early this morning. Had you really slept that long? Yoongi must've had his curtains closed. You stand back up and your stomach growls in anger as you make your way out of the building. You really were hungry, to the point that it feels like your stomach is digesting itself, but you're desperate to get away. You don't want any misunderstandings.

"Madam, may I assist you in finding a-"

You cut off the doorman, turning in the direction of your apartment, "I'm fine."

"Miss, the streets are dangerous at this time of-"

"I'll be fine, Jackson. Good night." You ignore the polite man's pleas for you to let him help you and continue down the street and away from him. You have no money for a taxi or uber and you aren't going to let someone else, you barely know, pay for you. The last thing you need is to owe someone or make them think you're poor, not that you aren't, due to college debt, but that's beside the point.

"Woah, look what we've got ourselves here." A group of burly looking men walk around the corner of an alleyway just as you're about to pass it and your expression turns sour. Of all the nights. 

"What's a pretty girl like you doing out so late?" There's four of then, but only the tallest of the bunch is quick to close the distance between the two of you.

"I don't think that's any of your damn business." You glare up at him, attempt to regulate your breathing. Your fever is making you feel like you're extremely out of shape so that just the smallest amount of walking you've done so far had you almost breathless.

"Oh! A feisty one!" A disgusting grin pulls up the man's cheeks as he laughs at your bold response.

"Get out of my way." You wave your hand at him, trying to move around his broad shoulders only for another one of the guys to come up beside him, blocking your way.

"No, I think you should stay and hang out with us for a while."

You huff and run the back of your hand across your forehead, nonchalantly whipping away the sweat to try and hide how weak you actually felt before letting a fake smile pull up your lips, "Oh, yeah?"

The man opens his mouth to reply, but before he can get a word out you're darting across the empty street.

Yes, you felt like shit, but that didn't mean you were gonna give up without a fight. The group of men yells after you, taken by surprise and you can hear their heavy feet scurrying after you. Thankfully, you're fast enough that once you've made it across the street you can start towards the nearest convenience store. Thinking you're about to be home free, your heart races with anticipation only to sink down in terror a second later as a hand yanks you into an alleyway way and covers your mouth, muffling your scream. You thrash and kick, panic shocking your body like electricity.

"Stand still, ____. You're going to break my nose." The whisper has you stilling in the person's arms.

"Yoon-"

"Shut up!" He whispers yells, covering your mouth again. 

"Damn it! Where did she go!?"

"I almost caught her."

"No, you fucking didn't! You were behind all of us, you idiot !"

You freeze and sink further into the person's arms out of seer terror as the four men pass the alleyway you're hiding in.

"When I find that bitch, she's gonna wish she never ran."

The grip around you tightens in an almost protective sort of way. The feeling comforts you, but tears still begin welling up in your eyes before the group of men finally carries on down the cold streets. Once they're out of hearing range the hand over your mouth moves and you're turned around to face none other than Min Yoongi.

He eyes you up and down, concern evident in his features, "Are you alright?"

You can only imagine how not alright you look, cheeks red from the cold, eyes glassy from fear, after having your adrenaline wear off. You probably look like a complete mess, but you still manage to nod in response to his question.

"Are you stupid? What the hell were you thinking? I told you to stay because you weren't feeling well and now look what you've gone and gotten yourself into. Why couldn't you just listen to me? Something could've happened. What if I didn't followed you?"

You stare up at Yoongi, trying to listen to what he's saying and gripping his arms tightly to keep yourself upright as a loud thumping began echoing in your ears, everything around you starting to spin, "I-I'm sorry, I-"

"____?" 

You fall, losing your grip on Yoongi as all your strength leaves your body, and you faint.

You groan and stretch, your eyes slowly opening. The light shining in through your window burns your retinas.

"Finally, I was beginning to think you were dead."

"Huh?" You look over, next to your bed to see Jimin sitting there with a tray of breakfast in his lap.

"How-What are you doing here?" You croak.

Jimin raises an eyebrow, "You don't remember? You must have felt pretty bad."

"Jimin, " You cough, trying to sit up, and he's quick to help you, "what are you talking about?"

"You texted me last night that you felt really sick and needed help. I was surprised at first, but once I got here I understood that you weren't kidding. You were tossing and turning in bed and sweating as if you'd just ran for hundreds of miles." 

You frown, trying to recall your memories from last night. 

"Are you alright?" Jimin rubs your back soothingly.

"I-I'm fine." Your voice squeaks as you push Jimin's hand off you.

He raises an eyebrow at you again, your reaction surprising him, but drops it, figuring it's probably because you're sick, "Well, here's your breakfast. I'm going down to the cafeteria to get you some water. Call me or text me if anything happens or if you need something, okay?"

"O-okay, " You take the tray of food from him and he nods before getting up and leaving. You look around your room, briefly glancing over at your roommate's bed. Hopefully, she'd been out all night and hadn't seen anything.

You jump as your phone starts ringing, your tray of food nearly flying up in the air. You quickly grab your phone, accepting the call without checking the caller ID.

"Hello?"

"Hm, you sound a lot better today. How are you feeling?"

The sudden sound of his voice has your whole face heating up and your stomach flipping over in an unexplained manner, "Y-Yah! Why are you calling?! What do you want?!"

"What are you being rude for? Didn't I save your life?"

You scoff, "I would've been perfectly fine without your help. I had a plan."

"Oh, really?" He asks sarcastically, "And what was that? Run until you collapse from exhaustion?"

"I-I don't need to explain myself to you!"

"Right, it's not like I had to drag you all the way to your dorm last night, because you refused to listen to me, or anything."

"I didn't ask for your help!"

"Well, since you seem to be fine now and you don't need my help, I'll hang up." His voice is condescending and mocking. The sound of it makes your blood boil and you can't help but respond with malice.

"Fine! Hang up!"

"Try not to go running down the street in the middle of the night again, yeah?"

"I'll do whatever I want!"

His laughter fills your phone's speaker and you found yourself turning even redder, "I'm sure you will, ____, seeing as you do that and nothing else."

"I'm hanging up!"

"Alright, "

"Shut up!" You pull your phone away from your ear swiftly and end the call. You huff and throw your phone to the end of your bed. You can't understand why you'd just been so childish. He had helped you. Why did you respond so absurdly? You could feel something burning inside your chest, the feeling of it was making you irrational. You run your hands through your hair distress-fully and whine, "What's wrong with me?"

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tags

@team-work-made-the-dream-work @seokchella @crackhead1-800