Just Happened To Be (5)
Summary: Jimin was an asshole, yes. And you were supposed to be nice, meek, and afraid of people like him. But you weren’t; even with a knife at your throat you stayed quiet and unforgiving–and he wasn’t allowed to like it.
Based off this request:
“Anonymous said:So how about bad boy Jimin I mean that’s cool I guess cause I mean who need bad boy jimin right pft not me.”
Usual warnings . This is a drug gang fic so naturally there’s gonna be a lotta shit.
Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Six / Part Seven
"Are you sure you've got this, hyung?" Jimin whispered, fishing in his bag for the lock-pick kit while Namjoon kept watch in the shadows of the alleyway.
The older man snorted. "Taehyung knows we're coming regardless of whether I've got this or not. Besides, it isn't me that he wants to kill; make sure you watch out."
Jimin snapped the zipper closed on his duffle. "He's the one who needs to watch his ass."
Namjoon grabbed Jimin's arm as he started towards the bar, stopping him in his tracks. "Just...just don't do anything stupid, okay?"
"I already did." Jimin murmured. "And you're here doing it with me."
Before Namjoon could say another word, Jimin ripped himself from his hyung and hightailed it towards the back of the bar. The initial plan was that Namjoon was going to go in through the front entrance and become an instant distraction--that would give Jimin enough time to find you and get you out. Honestly, it was stupid and bound to fail, but, then again, this was a mission that was built upon grasped straws.
Jimin started towards the back entrance--his initial destination--when, as he was passing by the wood cellar doors buried in the grass, he overhead angered mumbles filtering up between the slats. Jimin immediately changed his plan, dropping to the ground so he could press his ear against the wood. As he listened, his eyes examined the lock on the doors to see what tools from his kit would be needed to crack it.
"Yah--make sure she's still breathing."
It was Taehyung's voice.
And it was all Jimin needed to hear.
He ripped his ear from the wood, his fingers working feverishly on the padlock until it clicked open, only to be thrown and lost into the dark. Jimin slowly opened the cellar door enough to peer through, noting the long, dark hallway leading to the actual open basement. Deeming it safe enough for him to crawl in and linger in the shadows without being caught, he opened the door just enough for him to slip through with his bag, closing it behind him with as little sound as possible.
Jimin slid down the stairs at a snail's pace until he was fully on the ground, tilting his head to get a better view of the open door at the end of the hall. In the light of the other room, he could just barely make out the backs of Taehyung and Jungkook, the two of them huddled together as they blocked something or someone from his vision.
"She's breathing." Jungkook murmured, pulling himself up to his full height.
"Good--she's not allowed to die until I say so, you got it?"
"Are you going to?"
Taehyung held a pause that had Jimin's hands curling into fists, his nails cutting his skin. His once friend smirked at the maknae. "We'll see." Taehyung stepped to the side and disappeared out of Jimin's line of sight, finally allowing him to see what they had captured.
As he feared--as they all feared--it was you.
And god did you look like shit.
Your head was practically on your shoulder, causing him to be unable to get a good view of your expression--not that it particularly mattered, since it appeared you were unconscious anyways. His gaze couldn't help but linger on the bruises that littered your skin; they appeared fresher than the ones he'd seen back on the bridge. And there were so many--he could see them all now, what with your cardigan and skirt no longer attached to you. Instead, you were left in a damp tank top and a pair of short shorts you must have been wearing under your skirt, bearing every last scar of yours to the world. Hell, he could see that even your wrists were discolored and injured from the rope binds keeping you tethered to the chair you were propped on. But what Park Jimin hated most about it all, was that, when he looked closer, he could see a horrible, poisonous spread of purple inside your elbow.
Taehyung had pricked you with something.
As if to confirm Jimin's thoughts, Taehyung strolled back into view with a syringe needle full of some impossibly green drug, placing it in Jungkook's palm before stepping towards you. It was almost loving the way Taehyung's hand curved around your cheek, the way he tilted your head up to tower over you and stare down at your unconscious face. It was almost loving the way his thumb brushed across your skin.
Almost.
"Give her another dose."
"Hyung..."Jungkook couldn't tear his eyes away from Taehyung's grip on your face."Hasn't she had enough?"
Jimin screwed his eyes shut, ducking his head to the floor in an attempt to shut out the unbidden images of you fighting and pleading as they held you down--what he believed happened when he wasn't fast enough to chase you. He imagined you letting out some horrifying shriek as they injected doses of a searing, screaming drug into your system. You were alone, you were cold and wet and with people who held knives to your throat and meant it when they said that they would kill you. And you were there because of him. It was always because of him.
Jimin's head snapped up at the sound of footsteps on the stairs leading up to the main floor of the bar, catching the tail end of Taehyung's glare as his eyes flashed a dangerous color and his hand snaked out to grab Jungkook by the throat. Taehyung didn't even turn to the arrival of one of his men; instead, he focused his anger solely on the youngest even as his henchman murmured something in his ear. It was only when Taehyung nodded that the man left and the gang leader released Jungkook.
"They're here." Taehyung murmured. "So do as I say or I will put you in this chair and make Jin cook you a special dinner." The threat was spoken with a smile that had anything but a genuine happiness; it hung in the air as Taehyung stepped out of Jimin's sight once more. This time, Jimin could tell that he left the basement entirely, his footsteps thundering upstairs towards the bar to meet Namjoon.
Jimin didn't waste a damn second. Before Jungkook could even take a step towards you, Jimin was running full force down the hall. He slammed into Jungkook, unable to stop in time to properly rip him away from you--instead he wheeled with the younger in his grasp, flinging him backwards into the cellar wall. Before Jungkook could even attempt to get up on his feet, Jimin was there to grab his wrist with one hand and his throat with the other.
"Drop it." Jimin hissed through his teeth, his hands squeezing with his anger. He must have been glaring at the youngest with a fire never before seen, because something resonated through his skin and into Jungkook's, the needle falling from the maknae's fingers. Despite the act of defeat, Jimin didn't let up. "What did you give her?" His voice felt like it was acid, burning his ears, his throat, his chest--it hurt to speak with such venom, so he couldn't even imagine (or care) what if felt like to hear it.
"I--I don't know." Jungkook whispered, his eyes flitting across Jimin's face as if he couldn't believe it was actually Jimin before him. It never occurred to Jimin that he'd never shown nearly half the amount of anger he was showing now; he'd been pretty good at hiding and saving that shit for Taehyung and Taehyung only.
Until now.
"What. Did. You. give. Her?" Jimin's hand tightened on Jungkook's throat and the boy let out a wincing gasp.
"I don't know!" He squeaked out. "It was a concoction of things left on Seokjin's desk! No one knows what it is!"
Jimin ducked his head, laughing bitterly to the floor. "Of fucking course." How could you heal something you didn't know? How could you counteract a drug that has never been made before? How can you counteract a drug when even the maker didn't know what was in it? Taehyung wasn't stupid, and he knew exactly what it took to make it hurt the most.
Jimin let go of Jungkook with a force that had the youngest clamoring to the ground, gasping with the sudden intake of oxygen as Jimin turned his full attention towards you.
Squatting down next to you, Jimin slipped his fingers under the rope on your wrists, trying desperately to figure out the complex knots. "Will it kill her?"
Jungkook stayed on all fours, his hair hanging in front of his face to guard his expression. "I don't know."
The sudden passivity of the youngest had Jimin throwing a glance over his shoulder. "What the hell is wrong with you? Why aren't you attacking me? Where's the big, bad maknae now?"
Jungkook's hands fisted on the ground. "I don't like repaying favors--so get her out. She saved me...so just...just get her out of here."
Jimin paused, his gaze boring into Jungkook's side. "What does that mean? What do you mean she saved you?"
"I--I was by the river when I was attacked by a bordering enemy gang. She just--god she just came out of fucking nowhere, tackling this guy like she thought she had a blackbelt or some shit like that."
"That's impossible. She knows shit nothing about fighting." Jimin focused his attention back to undoing the knots, but he kept seeing the same image of you confessing and crying at the top of the hill. He kept seeing hallucinations of you saving the life of a man who tried to kill you.
"Well whatever she does know, it saved my life." Jungkook's head snapped up. "They had a fucking gun to my head and she stopped them from pulling the trigger--whether she knows how to fight or not she saved my ass. And to thank her I--I called her name in confusion like a fucking moron. Hyung was running towards me, then her as soon as he recognized who she was. She's so slow, you know that? So fucking slow. He was able to grab her before she could get away."
Jimin stared up at your face as if that could make you wake up, as if that could give him the energy to yell at you for all of your stupidity. Instead he just fumbled with the same goddamn knots, unable to free even one of your wrists.
Suddenly, Jungkook was on the other side of you, undoing one of your wrists with enough difficulty that Jimin knew it wasn't the youngest who tied you to the chair--but, unlike Jimin, he actually released one of your wrists.
With no time to help Jimin, the youngest let out a curse--the only warning Jimin had before a bottle was crashing into the side of his head with a spray of glass. Jimin tipped to the side and onto the ground, given only enough time to groan and roll over before Taehyung was standing over him, one foot on either side of his body.
Taehyung spit at the ground just left of Jimin's face, causing the fallen man to curl his lip in disgust. "Did you honestly think it would be that easy? Did you really think that I didn't know my little maknae wouldn't try to let her go?" Taehyung squatted down, letting out a bark of laughter at the blood on the side of Jimin's face. "You're smart, Jiminnie, you should have known that I had all of this planned." Taehyung's head snapped up to look at the youngest, his eyes flashing a dangerous color that reminded Jimin of warning signs--of flashing lights reserved for ambulances and fire drills. "Kookie, I promise not to feed you to the wolves if you go get me that syringe you dropped right now."
Jungkook whispered an apology to you under his breath before hurrying to his feet and away, returning with the needle only to place the syringe in his leader's open palm.
Taehyung grabbed the front of Jimin's shirt, lifting him up off the ground with a sadistic smile that reminded Jimin less of Taehyung and more of Taehyung's brother.
"You going to inject me with that bullshit too?" Jimin hissed."Fucking do it."
Taehyung chuckled, soft at first--but it slowly built into insanity. "You really think that I would waste this on you?" He twirled the needle in front of Jimin's face with his free hand. "No. When I kill you I want it to be slow and painful. This, who knows what the hell this could do to you." He snatched the needle back before Jimin could grab it. "That one there is slippery; I want to make sure she can't run until I'm finished with you."
"How can she run if she's not even fucking awake?" Jimin howled, thrashing underneath Taehyung--but there was too much weight and too much of a hold on Jimin for him to go anywhere.
Taehyung dropped Jimin hard enough that the man's head slammed into the ground, his once-friend coming in with a one-two hit consisting of a punch to the face and a swift kick in the ribs, making sure Jimin stayed on the ground. Satisfied, Taehyung walked away from Jimin and stepped towards you. His fingers grazed along the skin of your neck before his hand clasped fully around your throat and tilted your head back, creating just enough room for him to insert his needle into a vein.
Jimin was up on his feet before the plunger could hit half-way, shouldering Taehyung to the floor--resulting in your chair crashing back and to the ground along with the two warring men. Jungkook tugged at Jimin, but the older man was far too enraged to be able to be held down; instead, Jimin grabbed two fistfuls of Jungkook's jacket and threw him into a shelf of liquor, glass bottles raining down on the youngest only to shatter on the concrete. Taehyung was already up, pushing the liquid further as Jimin landed a hard kick to his once friend's face. Without any kindness, Jimin ripped the syringe from your skin and stabbed the needle into Taehyung's leg, slamming the plunger down with a force that had Taehyung screaming.
Suddenly the man was on his feet and knocking Jimin back to the floor, a shard of broken glass in hand. Jimin grabbed Taehyung's wrist, pushing the trajectory of the glass from his neck to his shoulder. Jimin didn't scream, didn't even feel the pain with the amount of adrenaline flowing through his veins. With a grunt of pain, Jimin's elbow met Taehyung's already fucked up face. This time Jimin didn't let him get back up; he straddled Taehyung's waist and laid hit after hit--punch after punch. Even when Jungkook was up and wrapping his arm around Jimin's throat, even when air and blood was no longer circulating to his brain, Jimin kept throwing hits. His mind was blood red, his vision dyed crimson with anger--all he could do was hurt the man that hurt you.
The only thing that made Jimin stop was the sudden reverberation of a gunshot in the cellar basement.
"You better put him down now, Jungkook." The new party demanded.
The second Jungkook's arms were off of Jimin's airway; he gasped for breath, crashing back to reality as he turned to spot Namjoon with a steaming pistol in hand--the barrel now aimed directly at Jungkook instead of at a fresh hole in the brick. When Jimin looked down, he found Taehyung out cold, his face bloody and swollen. Namjoon jerked his chin towards the same exit Jimin had come in through. "Get her out of here, Jimin."
He crawled off of Taehyung, scrambling towards you as he finally undid the other knot keeping your right wrist to the chair. "What about you, hyung?"
"Who do you think is keeping Seokjin busy upstairs?" Namjoon winked. "I'll be fine as long as the boys are here."
"I--"
"Yoongi told me if you don't shut up and get her out of here alive, he would come and kill you himself. Go."
Jimin didn't say another word; he just winced at the tug in his injured shoulder as he picked you up around your waist and hoisted you over his other. Without a glance back at anyone else, he booked it up and out of the cellar.
~.~
Jimin didn't check your pulse, didn't stop running, and didn't pause--not even when the two of you were back in his territory. He kept running with curses under his breath, half of him wondering if he was carrying a corpse over his shoulder; the other half was too consumed with trying to remember where the hell you lived. He was kind of running away in denial when he left your place however many months ago; it took every bit of focus he had just to drag himself back to that night. Ultimately, his shitty memory had him running in circles and down one too many streets before finally--fucking finally--he found a door that rang some sense of déjà vu within him.
With you slung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, he peered inside your front window just to make sure that it was, in fact, your front window. He nodded to himself, checking one thing off a long list of panicked to-do items. The next was figuring out how the hell he was supposed to get inside; he frowned at your door knob, for once hoping that your stupidity would pay off. With blind hope, he turned it, surprised that he was surprised it was unlocked. He should have felt angry at your naiveté, but he didn't have the energy or the mindset to be anything but absolutely panicked.
He kicked the door behind him, making a mental note to lock it later as he practically fell over himself in his wild attempt to get you to your bathroom. For some reason, your bathroom felt like the best place for you--it seemed it was the only place in your home where the injured could exist.
He set you on your plush bathroom rug, staring down at you like a fish out of water. He was not the medic in his group--not in the slightest. He was decent at applying a band-aid and handing others gauze and tape but aside from that he was absolutely useless. He was the kid they always told to get out when someone was injured because his worry and absolute ignorance made for a bad combination.
He ran his fingers through his hair, hissing in air through his teeth."Shit, shit shit." He stared at you down on the floor, bending to hook his fingers towards your pulse; part of him shook at the thought that he had in fact been running around the city with a dead body.
But thank god there was a beat at his fingertips.
"Stable." Jimin murmured. "I have to get her stable." And to do that he had to get you awake, he had to get out at least some of the poison in your system. He ran his tongue along his teeth as he sat down next to you, letting out another curse before dragging you up and into a sitting position. Jimin used one arm to hold you up while the other inspected the fresh, bruising wound along your neck. He tried to avoid blinking, because if he closed his eyes he knew he would see images of Taehyung injecting you and Jimin being too slow to stop it.
"Fuck." He growled, cursing to curse--cursing at the stupidity of it all. He had no idea how much of the mystery cocktail you were given; if he didn't at least try to get some of it out there was a high probability that you would die in his arms. So, closing his eyes against the thought, he pressed his lips to the wound and sucked in. Hell, he even bit at the edges of the wound to gather as much of the poison in your blood as he could. He could taste it--it was like gasoline, like a bitter toxin used to tell dogs not to chew on something; it was by far the worst thing Jimin had ever put in his mouth. He twisted his head to the side to spit into the bathtub before returning to your neck to repeat the process. Suck. Spit. Suck. Spit... He didn't stop until the only thing he tasted was the coppery hint of your blood.
He rested your body against his, wiping furiously at his mouth as he stared at a point on the wall. His heart felt like it was jack-hammering against your shoulder. "Come on, Y/N." He murmured weakly; it was much harder to save someone's life if they were unconscious. "You have to wake up now." When you, of course, didn't respond, he pulled you back to lift your eyelid with his thumb in order to examine the dilation of your pupils. Before he could even get a good look, your body was jerking in his grasp--your breathing kicking into a gear that was far too high for the amount of energy you were exerting. You shook with gasps as you desperately tried to get air into your lungs, Jimin having to hold onto you to keep you from pitching sideways.
"Fuck! Y/N!" He grabbed either side of your face, pulling you back to him. "Now's the time to wake the fuck up!" He all but shouted in your ear, practically shaking you. But when your head only lolled on your shoulders he knew that regular smacking and screaming tactics were not going to work. This was some next level shit that he had only dealt with when Yoongi drank himself into a coma four years ago. "God damnit--please." He snarled, his panic increasing when your body shifted into full on hyperventilation.
Without thinking, he turned the faucet full blast on the bathtub, splashing cold water onto the porcelain before unceremoniously shoving your head under it.
You--thank god--awoke to the ice cold water with a sputter, reeling your head as far away from it as you could before Jimin pulled you back to him. He clung to you just as tight as you did to him, your fingers digging into his shoulders as you tried to cough and gasp the water from your lungs.
"Breathe." Jimin tried to speak as gently as he could, but the blood rushing in his ears made it feel like he was screaming. He held onto your face once more when you tried to escape him, as if you thought that he was Taehyung--hell, he had to force you to meet his gaze just to get you to understand his words. "Y/N. Breathe."
Finally, finally, your glazed eyes shifted into enough focus to find his and your breathing slowed to a point that Jimin felt he could handle; it wasn't great, but it was a hell of a lot better than your previous panicked gasps. Before he could even think about letting go of you, your hand was snaking down towards your bruised and abused arm, your nails starting to dig into your skin. Jimin shook you once, snapping one hand down to clasp over yours and stop you from scratching your vein out. He recognized the look in your eyes--one of the drugs in the cocktail was one Jimin had dealt with before, the side effects being that you felt the impending need to scratch your own blood vessels out.
"It i-i-itches." You whispered.
He kept one hand on your face, preventing you from looking down to see the damage--to see the scars that were fully on display. "I know." He whispered. "I'll call Yoorin for you--I'll make sure she comes here to make you better. Okay?"
Your eyes were glassy, shifting in and out of focus as your body trembled in his grasp. "Wh-wh-wh-where are you go-go-going?"
"I have to go back, Y/N."
"W-w-w-why?"
"Because--because--"
The tears were spilling over your cheeks before he could even gather the words that he needed, ripping all of his willpower from his body. "I kn-kn-knew the a-a-a-answer b-b-b-but--"
"You know nothing." He hissed, his hand grabbing a fistful of your hair to prevent you from looking down even though you tried your damnedest. He knew he couldn't stop you for much longer.
"L-L-Let go of m-me!" You screamed, trying to shove him back until you finally shimmied under his grasp and escaped just far enough away to catch sight of your state--you saw the bruises, the scars; you saw just how much had been on display for him and everyone else. Instantly, you tried to cover yourself, the tears reddening your face. "D-d-d-don't look!" You shouted, "Go-Go a-a-away!" The panic was settling under your skin as you scrambled away, trying to get to a place where he couldn't see you even though there was nowhere for you to go.
"Y/N!" He tried to reach for you, but you were backing yourself into a corner, huddling over to try and cover your scars from him.
"I'm di-di-disgusting! D-d-don't l-l-look!"
He grabbed your wrists, yanking you out of the corner and towards him to get a better look at your fevered skin. "Stop! Y/N!" You struggled in his grasp, pleading with him on tears that shattered something fragile in his chest.
"I-I-I'm disgusting. C-C-Call me a pr-pr-prude and m-make f-f-f-fun of me pl-p-please--d-d-d-don't m-m-make me believe th-that y-y-y-you're k-k-k-kind. It'll h-h-h-hurt m-m-m-more later. "
He groaned to the ceiling. "You fucking idiot."
"I kn-know so--"
He cut you off with his mouth, pressing his lips against yours with all of the fury and denial that he had been in the moment he met you. He kissed you hard enough that your hands went limp in his and your body stopped shaking; he kissed you hard enough that he found his fingers tangling in your hair and, for a moment, he made you believe that there were no such things as scars, stutters, gangs, drugs--there was nothing but the two of you on a bathroom floor.
When he pulled back, your tears were drying on your cheeks, your brow furrowed in absolute confusion as he forced you to keep your gaze on him and only him. "Y/N, I wouldn't have saved your ass from Taehyung if I thought you were disgusting."
And then, as most things happen between the two of you, you did the unexpected: you twisted to face the toilet and throw up whatever food you may have had, along with a neon green mixture of drugs that Taehyung must have forced down your throat.
He couldn't help but bust out laughing, his hands automatically going to hold your hair up off your face as you emptied your stomach. You tried to push him away, tried to tell him that his laughter was affecting you and that puking and laughing was so not cute, but he slapped your weak hands away and let you do what you needed to. When you finished, you collapsed into a heap on the floor, your body shaking with silent laughs. A normal relationship was just not going to ever be in your destiny. Despite it all, you let Jimin pull you into his chest.
"D-D-Do you ki-ki-kiss all your girl-girl-girl-girl-girlfriends like th-that?"
He chuckled, resting his chin on top of your head. "Just the ones I like best--they usually don't throw up afterwards though." He knew that the two of you weren't out of the doghouse yet, he could feel the pure heat of your fevered skin through his shirt and he knew that there were more side effects to come. But for now, it was nice to just feel you alive and breathing and in his grasp--for now, he could pretend that things would be okay.
"C-C-Can you s-say it ju-ju-just once?" You whispered, the tips of your ears reddening.
He licked his lips, staring somewhere over your head instead of at you because it was easier for him to fulfill your request if he didn't have to see those damn sparkly eyes boring into him. "I like you, Y/N."
"L-L-Like, like?"
"Damnit woman." His hands tightened on each other, resulting in him squeezing you tighter against him. "You're really testing my limits aren't you?"
You paused for a moment but he knew it was coming anyways. "S-So, l-l-lov--?"
"Yes." He hissed. "Y/N, Yes. I..." He took in a deep breath.
"I love you, Sooyoung."
She turned over her shoulder, her eyes darkening to a flat black that held nothing of the Sooyoung that had been there as a kid. There was no warmth or kindness, but there hadn't been any of that for a while now. "No, you don't. You can't because you're too kind Jimin--and I'm anything but." But she was striding towards him, walking like a predator as her lips parted only to crash onto his.
"I love you."
You shivered in his grasp, wiggling to free your spine from the goosebumps. "T-T-Thank y-y-you." You whispered to the floor. "Me t-t-too. I--I l-l-love you, too."
"Come on." He murmured, shifting to get his feet under him--but he didn't let go of you, instead he helped you stand. Well, stand wasn't really the term for it; it was more like 'lean against Jimin until he scooped his arms around you and basically held all your weight for you'. "You're a mess," he chuckled, "we have to clean you up." Before you could retort or give a sassy reply, he unceremoniously picked you up and set your ass in the tub. "You get to do the water, I have no idea what a suitable temperature would be with you in this state?"
You craned your head up to him, your lips pulling into a shy smile. "Y-Y-You're re-re-really k-k-kind, you know?"
He turned the water on freezing, causing you to let out a scream of horror as it splashed you. While you were busy scrambling to fill the tub with something more to your liking, he started towards your closet and fished out a rag and some shampoo. "Until Yoorin gets here, you're going to have to tell me what to do to make you better--I'm absolute garbage when it comes to this shit."
"I-I think y-y-you're doing w-w-w-wonderful."
He sat on the edge of the tub, reaching to peel at the edge of your tank top. "Off." He murmured, disguising the heavy beat to his heart with worry.
"B-B-But!!" Your face heated to an impossible red, your body curling in on itself. "I--"
"Yah, I can't leave you in this shit and I sure as hell can't leave you to clean up after yourself. You look like you're going to pass out any minute now!"
With your lips tucked between your teeth, you slowly peeled the tank top off of you, ditching your now ruined bra to the side as you covered your chest with your arms. Your knees curled up as an extra barrier between him and your breasts. "I-I-I'm ke-ke-keeping the sh-sh-shorts for n-n-now."
"That's fine, not much fabric to them anyways." He snorted, dipping the rag into the water before gently rubbing it across your back. "Does this hurt?"
You nodded, your fingers tightening on your biceps. "B-B-But its o-o-okay. E-E-Everything hurts any-anyways."
"I'll have to ask Hooseok about all this--he knows more about these drugs than I do. Maybe we can come up with some sort of antidote quicker than it will take you to heal on your own."
"M-Maybe."
He scooped your hair off your neck, running the rag over the injection site you were currently not shielding. Jimin winced.
"I..." You paused, gathering your words once more. "Wh-what do y-you like a-about me?"
"Hm?" He raised an eyebrow, still staring at your neck as he tried to wipe away some of the blood from your skin.
"W-Why me?"
Jimin shrugged. "There aren't always answers to such stupid questions. Sometimes we don't have to have a reason why we fall for people; it's just part of our DNA--like we were born to fall in love with certain people." He made a face at the bathroom tile. "But that's what Namjoon says. I just like you because I like you--I think you Stockholm syndrome-d me."
You let out a bark of laughter, one of your arms freeing itself to smack him--conveniently, it was the arm that Taehyung used to overdose you. Jimin grabbed it before you could pull back, running the rag across the inside of your elbow.
"No." He chuckled. "I think that you're strong in a way that I could never be."
"W-W-What way i-is that?"
"You are so terribly unafraid of everyone and everything, there's nothing about you that could ever be dark."
You shook your head. "T-That do-do-doesn't make s-s-sense."
"You're kind, Y/N. I like you because you're kind without fear."
Even though as he stared at you, he could only think back to the millions of times Sooyoung had told him that people like her burned people like him. He could only think that maybe the roles had been switched--because here you were, curled and vulnerable before him; you were injured because of him.
You almost died, because of him.
Jimin cupped his hands into the water, dropping some over your head before squeezing some shampoo onto his palms.
"Mmm." You let out a soft noise of contentment as he worked his fingers into your scalp, leaning into his touch like a purring cat.
What would it have been like if, months and months back, Jimin had walked away from you--what if he hadn't called out to you? Where would you be now?
Probably safe and unhurt on the couch watching a movie with Yoorin--and Jimin? Well he'd probably be dead.
Once he finished cleaning what he could from you, he helped you stand up, looking away just in case you slipped and he saw something he shouldn't. When he was sure you were safely sitting on the lid of the toilet, he held out your robe, helping you get into it and tie it securely around you.
He handed you fresh clothing that he'd dug from your dresser, standing at the threshold to your bedroom. "Let me know when you're done changing, okay?"
Before he could turn to leave your voice stopped him.
"J-Jimin?"
He looked over his shoulder with one eyebrow raised.
"P-P-Promise y-y-you won-won-won't leave wh-wh-when you cl-close that d-d-door?"
A tension he hadn't realized had been building in his shoulders released. "I promise, Y/N. I'll be just outside this door."
~.~
When Jimin came back into the room--after nursing his own wounds, thankful you were too occupied with your own pain to notice his--you were sitting on the bed, dressed in a t-shirt and a pair of shorts as you lay heaving on your side. His surprise that you would show that much scarred skin around him was muffled by the fact that you had paled to a ghost before him.
"Y/N?" He was there instantly, his hands pushing you up into a sitting position. "Hey--hey?"
Your breathing wasn't fast, but it was heavy--almost like you were trying to cough but couldn't. It took a while for your eyes to focus on him, but they did eventually. "I-I-I-I-It's h-hot."
He rolled his eyes at you, taking the tail end of his shirt to wipe the sweat from your forehead. "We'll get you an ice pack to cool you down when we get to the living room." You leaned to rest your forehead on his shoulder, the heat of your skin scalding him. He let out a curse. "Can you stand?"
Your legs shook without even moving off the edge of the bed, your forehead breaking out in a fresh sheen of sweat to soak his shirt. "Okay, okay." He murmured, his arm snaking around your waist. "I've got you."
Your fingers dug into his shoulder as he hoisted you up to your feet; when your legs couldn't handle your weight, he hooked his arm under your knees and lifted you up to his chest.
"J-J-J-Jimin?"
He let out a grunt, carrying you down the hall.
"A-A-Am I al-al-all-allowed to be h-happy?"
He could feel your eyes on the underside of his jaw. "I like it better when you're happy. But you're hurt, so be happy when you're better."
Your fingers touched the band-aid on his temple. "So a-a-a-are y-y-you. Are y-y-you o-o-okay? Y-Y-Y-You need t-t-to rest!" He shook his head, biting your fingers away from his face.
"I'm fine, Y/N. Let...let me worry about you for a change."
"O--Okay." You whispered, helping him set you down on the couch. With all of the finesse of someone who had never once cared for anything as fragile as a life, he shoved a comforter on you--much to your displeasure. "It's t-t-t-too hot!!"
"Good." Jimin snorted, leaving you in favor of disappearing into your kitchen. "You need to sweat this shit out of your system." He shouted over his shoulder as he ran a glass of ice under the faucet. When he returned you were trying to kick the excess fabric from you, forcing him to set down the glass in favor of mummy wrapping you to the point that it was almost impossible to move your arms. "You're seriously going to make me treat you like a child?"
You glared up at him, struggling weakly. Despite the fact that you were sick with a mystery illness, Jimin was thankful for the weakness--at least it made it too difficult for you to refuse his demanding help.
He pressed the glass to your lips, tilting it back until at least half the glass was gone--not that you didn't try to move your head before then. Setting the water down on the side table, he sunk into the couch next to you.
"I-I-Ice pack." You hissed.
He grabbed the remote, raising one eyebrow at you. "Maybe when you finish that water."
"G-G-Gimmee."
"Now you want to be nice?" He turned the volume up, cupping a hand behind his ear. "What was that? I don't think I heard you."
"I---w-w-water."
"Hmm, I dunno--so far all you've done is fight against me saving your ass. I don't think you deserve the relief."
"Fu-Fu-Fuck you."
He snorted, "Later."
"I w-w-w-want to h-h-h-hit you."
Reaching for the water with one hand, his other freed one of your arms from the confines of the comforter. "Do it after you've finished that glass--then maybe after you've finished a second I'll get you an ice pack to cool you down."
"I-I can't d-d-drink a-a-all that!"
"Sucks. Do you know how dehydrated you are?"
You paused with the glass against your lips, your eyes flitting across his face. "You r-r-r-really are s-s-s-secretly nice, you k-kn-know?"
He tipped the glass up, resulting in water spilling down the sides of your face and down the front of your shirt--but at least it was cold water. You let out a hoarse squeal from the sudden chill but downed the rest of the glass before he could torment you further. "Take it back?" He raised an eyebrow at you.
You nodded with a frown, but the corners of your lips betrayed your forced anger.
He got up to refill the glass, setting it on the side table next to you before plopping back down by your side. As if on instinct, your hand reached to lace your fingers through his. Jimin found that he couldn't look away from the point where your skin met his.
It was a while before he could find the words, nevertheless figure out how to use his vocal chords. "The person who..." He stopped himself, licking his lips. "The person who hurt you--did you love them?"
"No." You murmured as you fell to the side, resting your head on his shoulder. "I d-did not."
"What about love--have you ever told anyone else that you loved them?"
Your fingers tightened on his. "O-O-O-One man. H-he s-s-said he didn't mi-mi-mi-mind my s-sc-scars."
Unconsciously, his thumb smoothed over your knuckled. "What happened to him?"
"H-H-H-He f-f-found som-som-someone with-with-without scars." You paused, your breathing surprisingly even on his shoulder. For a minute, if he closed his eyes and pretended just right, he could believe that you were a normal couple destined for a normal life with a picket fence, 3.5 children and maybe a dog rescued from a shelter as a puppy. But your words brought him down from his momentary hopeful high. "The g-g-girl you ki-ki-killed, she hu-hurt y-y-y-you, didn't sh-sh-she?"
"She fell in love with my once best friend instead." Jimin focused on your fingers instead of his memories--he was amazed by the fragileness of them; amazed by how clean and pristine they were in comparison to his. You were soft where he was calloused and littered with tattoos that had no particular significance to him. "Despite that, she didn't let me get closure. Even under Taehyung's wing, she kept returning to me only to leave again. Sooyoung--she was like a drug to me; one I still feel like I'm recovering from."
"W-W-Was she pr-pr-pretty?"
He shifted just enough to pull his phone from his pocket, flipping through the years and years of photos with his free hand until he pulled up the only photo he still had of her.
"Jimin what are you--"
He cut her off with the click and flash of his cell camera, creating a stupid image of her with her mouth open and brow furrowed in confusion. Anyone else would have looked utterly terrible with such a candid shot--she just looked like she was born to be frozen in images.
Like life knew she wasn't supposed to be there long, so it was okay to give her a photogenic appearance--it was okay for cameras to love her because soon there wouldn't be anything left of her to remember.
"I think she was." He handed his phone to you, forcing his gaze to the television instead of you--he didn't know if he could take you looking at her picture. It felt sacrilegious in a way--some sort of ritual that would taint you, or make your fate the same as hers.
"Sh-Sh-She's b-b-beautiful."
He let out a small noise of approval. "She never smiled though." He paused, tilting his head so he could see your expression from the corner of his eye. "I didn't realize how much I liked smiles until I saw yours."
He was proud of the red to your cheeks--for once, it was a reaction to him. You were not immune to men; well, you were--but not to him. "Ch-Ch-Cheesy." You whispered under your breath, handing him his phone. "T-T-T-T-Taehyung was y-y-y-your f-f-friend?"
"My best friend." He chuckled without any humor. "But his brother got him into this shit, then Taehyung got Sooyoung into it, and then Sooyoung got me wrapped into it when I tried to get her out of it." It was your turn for your thumb to brush across his skin in an attempt to soothe old wounds. "I was so fucking blinded by love that I thought I could save what didn't want to be saved."
There was a moment of silence, and then: "H-H-How did i-i-it ha-ha-ha-happen?"
"Girls, as you are probably aware, are rare in our line of work." He swallowed, trying to remember without actually remembering. "She was well liked--too well liked--and another enemy of Tae's gunned for her in an attempt to get to him. The only problem with that thought process is that one: Taehyung had one thing that was important to him and that was his brother and two: his brother had fucked up any sense of that boy's humanity. When I found her--when I went to save her--she was badly injured; she was begging me to end it for her."
"Fucking do it."
He screwed his eyes shut, hearing that gunshot reverberate through his skull. "So I did." The pressure of your hand squeezing his brought him to the reality where you were--where Sooyoung wasn't. "Secretly, I think I hated her for making me do it. I hated her for falling for Taehyung instead of me."
"Y-Y-You hated h-h-her for b-b-bringing you i-i-into t-this."
"Yes." Jimin turned to fully look at you--really look at you. You were nothing like Sooyoung, not in the slightest. Yet, there you were sweaty, hurt, and in danger because of him. Sooyoung would have accepted her fate--but you were smiling and giving him those fucking glitter eyes that had so much hope that he could almost believe that this wasn't his fault.
That you weren't hurt because of him because you loved him and he...he was hopelessly head over heels for you to the point that any attempt at denial died with his hope of keeping you safe and unharmed.
"I can't even compare the two of you." He murmured, shaking his head. "You are so strong compared to her. You have friends, a job, and so many people that love and cherish you. You never stop even when you should. I just can't believe you've made such a stupid mistake."
"W-W-What?"
"You've made a mistake in falling for someone like me."
You pinched his finger, causing him to snap his hand out from under yours. "Y-Y-You're the o-o-one wh-wh-who made t-t-the m-m-mi-mistake."
He flicked your forehead, lightly, but enough that you winced. "Not a chance. It's natural for someone like me to fall for someone like you; I am tainted and you are so pristine that I feel like the act of holding your hand will make you dirty. Isn't there that thing that devils just want to drag angels to their level or some stupid bullshit like that? Gah, Namjoon really just--"
You bit his shoulder since it was too difficult for you to gather enough force to hit him in your current state.
He shouted in pain, cursing at you until you pouted up at him.
"S-St-St-Stop being an A-A-Asshole."
"How about you stop being a bitch?"
"D-D-D-Dick f-f-face."
"Whore."
"M-M-Manhoe."
"Fucker."
"B-B-B-Buttface." Your lips curled into a smile and suddenly he found that he couldn't keep his chuckles buried in his chest any longer.
"Ow." He laughed, his head falling forward until his forehead met yours. "That one really hurt, you know?"
"G-G-G-G-Good." You giggled, your eyelashes tickling him.
He hated the way that he wanted to kiss you again; he hated that he wanted to hold you down and show you just how bad you had weaseled your way into his chest. He hated that you were still shaking, still burning to the touch from a man that used you as bait. He was afraid because he didn't care that you were hurt, he still wanted to kiss you; he was afraid that if he started to, he wouldn't be able to stop--he wouldn't be able to hold back.
He promised himself he couldn't taint you any more than he already had.
So, instead, he lifted his chin to kiss your forehead before helping you lay down so you could rest your head on his lap. You needed to sleep, and he was thankful that you allowed him to run his fingers through your hair to help you fall into your dreams. Sure enough, within minutes, you let out soft snores.
The mark on your neck was now purpling, signaling him that he had to call Hoseok and he had to do it before it was too late. Jimin quickly pounded his number, licking his lips as he stared at the television without retaining any of the information about E-Z soap being blasted at him by an overly loud salesman.
"Hey." He murmured as Hoseok answered with a startled 'ARE YOU OKAY' only to pause as Yoongi let out a string of curses in the background. Jimin rolled his eyes. "I'm fine. I--" Jimin paused again as Yoongi shouted something about foot up an ass and all his family will go to hell if he doesn't get his ass back there. "I need you to come here and help me--I don't know what she was given." He paused for the third time, hearing Hoseok shout something along the lines of 'I know you're worrying but please SHUT THE FUCK UP.'
"We'll be on our way shortly. Yoongi needs an ice bath to cool down the smoke in his ears."
"I can hear that. Have Namjoon call Yoorin too--I think that she needs to be here; she knows Y/N best."
Hoseok must have taken it as, 'let's put Namjoon on the line' because suddenly the other man was picking up the phone with a gentle "How is she?"
"She's...she's doing alright now; she's asleep." Jimin's finger ran lightly across your cheek; he decided right then and there that his tattooed skin looked so horribly wrong against yours. "I need you to call Yoorin." Another pause. "This is all my fault."
Namjoon said nothing, just waiting for the inevitable end to the incoherent ramblings of a man lost to love.
"I told her." Jimin whispered, half hoping Namjoon couldn't hear it.
He could. "What'd she say?"
"She loves me." Jimin's voice cracked. "She said she loves me."
"That's great, Jimin. That's really so great."
His fingers trailed down to circle the clean skin around the bruising on your neck, his chest tightening when your brows twitched in pain amongst the softness of your sleep.
"When are you leaving us and for how long?"
Jimin squeezed his eyes shut, trying not to see your glitter eyes on the backs of his eyelids. "As soon as she's better--I'll allow myself to stay until she's better. And then...and then I don't know--until she stops looking for me. Considering she's a girl who doesn't do anything crazy, I think that she will give up relatively soon."
"Should I tell Yoongi?"
"No. Don't tell anyone. I just need her to be over me and then I'll be back and we can go on as normal."
"But how long will it really take for normal? How long will it take for you to get over her?"
"Bye Namjoon." Jimin chuckled, quickly hanging up the phone before he said something that would dig himself a deeper grave in the valley of lost love.
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