You entered the apartment slowly, eyes darting around in nerves as you clutched your coat tighter around your form. It was dark inside, reminding you of your first date with Taehyung, when you had shown up late, when Jimin had been angry.

You wondered how pissed he would be now.

The smallest of sounds sounded as loud as gunshots to you as you walked in, pulling your sleeves down to cover your fingers. The atmosphere felt menacing, the way it had on your first day, when you'd been afraid that the building was haunted.

The fear still existed—but not because of ghosts.

"Didn't go for a round two with your boyfriend? Oh, sorry, I mean the guy who cheated on you."

You flinched, as if slapped.

The first thing you saw was the glint of his blonde hair in the moonlight, looking almost silver in the dark. In your chest, your heart felt like someone had been staked through.

"Jimin—"

"Shut the fuck up." His eyes strayed to the upturned collar of your t-shirt, and the smile dropped, replaced by a snarl. "Oh my god—you actually fucked him? What the actual fuck, Y/N, I thought you had a little dignity!" He barked out a bitter laugh. "Was using me for a rebound not enough for you? You had to fuck the cheater, too?"

He had no dignity.

Jimin was nothing, he was bare, stripped down to his basest, worst version—you could see that. His eyes were bloodshot, narrowed and angry, and his hair was tousled, as if he'd tried to sleep but failed.

You stepped back slowly as if he were a wild animal, trying not to say or do anything that might provoke him further.

"Don't back away now," he crooned, and a smile lifted the corners of his lips again, the cruelest smile you had ever seen on a person. "Do I scare you?" The pure venom in his tone made you shrink into yourself, but he stalked forward in the manner of a lion hunting its prey. "Am I making you cry? Well, good."

"Jimin," you whispered, backing up against the wall and shaking your head pleadingly. "You're not in your senses. Please—we can talk about this in the morning."

It was clearly the wrong thing to say, because his eyes darkened further, smile turning even more manic. "Funny," he said. "We've never tried talking before. Any conversation usually ends up with you under me."

The last statement made your hackles rise, and your fingers curled into fists. "That's not funny."

"Oh, really?" Jimin smiled ruefully. "So what was your fucking justification for hurting me? Huh?"

You frowned, panic flooding you. Once again there was the feeling of drowning, but in a bad way. All at once, you felt light-headed and livid, unbalanced and emotional. Everything hurt, from your body to your brain, and your eyes began to sting. "I'm..." Nothing came up. "I was trying to make it better." And it didn't work.

"Oh, of course." His hands slammed into your shoulders, pinning you against the wall as he leaned closer. "You conveniently miss everything, don't you? Then listen up now, kitten, before you fall asleep again."

Your eyes were wide, frightened as he leaned close to your ear.

"I love you." His voice broke.

Your heart stopped.

"I—" Your breathing quickened as he pulled away, blinking rapidly. "I'm—"

—sorry—

He kissed you.

Your back arched as his hands slipped under your shirt, warm body pressed against yours, pushing you to the wall, accessing every corner of your mouth with his tongue.

"I—Jimin—" You gasped, your fingers curled up against his chest.

"No, don't." His words came in short, breathy whispers, in between kisses. "Don't say anything, because every time you open your mouth, you end up hurting me more."

He pulled up your legs, strong arms lifting you up against him as you looped your arms around his neck for balance.

He kicked shut the room to the door, and your back hit the bed with full force. Jimin climbed onto the bed on his hands and knees, hovering above you. You remembered what he had said moments before—conversation usually ends up with you under me—and felt a bitter laugh bubble up.

His chest was heaving with panting breaths, and you realized fully that somewhere along the way, his shirt had been discarded. You stared up at him, the ridges of his pectorals and abdominal muscles, the hard planes and soft dips of his chest. Despite the ugly words he had spoken to you, he was beautiful. And though he wasn't himself, you weren't scared.

The thought hit you like a truck. I'm not scared.

"Do I have your consent?" he whisper-asked, looking like a wound-up coil. His expression was guarded, but the question was genuine, and you felt like giving into him for ever.

But you knew having sex wasn't going to fix anything.

"No," you said.

He pushed off, sitting at the edge of the bed. You got up, pulling yourself into a sitting position, not bothering to fix your t-shirt as you sat next to him. His face was in his hands, and though he was perfectly still, you knew he was close to breaking down. This was the calm after the storm.

"Stop blaming me." You swallowed, voice cracking, blinking away your tears.

He didn't move. The curve of his spine was like the crest of a wave, and your hands ached to run your fingers down its length, but you stilled them.

"Don't portray me as the villain here." You pursed your lips, collarbones stinging where he had sucked on them. "Do you own me? Do I have any kind of obligation to you? Do I owe it to you to come back?"

He was silent, grudgingly quiet.

"I didn't have to apologize to you," you continued. "I didn't have to stay with you. All I had to do was pack up and depart, leaving you behind. Do you know how easy it would have been? There was nothing I was obliged to fix, nobody I had to care about."

No response.

"But I did." The statement was heavy, and absolute, and Jimin's hands fell away from his head. "I came back for you—not because I had to." It was deadly quiet now. "I did it because I wanted to. I didn't have sex with Taehyung because I had feelings for him, and even if I did, you're not supposed to take care of my business.

"You can't dictate what I do—and as for hurting you, do you think I did it on purpose? Do you think I enjoy seeing you hurt?" you barked out, shakily straightening, climbing over him with fire in your eyes. "I'm not supposed to think this way, Jimin! I'm not supposed to think of you when I'm kissing him, goddamnit!"

He was quiet as you whimpered, your anger breaking into tears as you sank into his side. "I don't want to hurt anyone, but you seem to never let go of me." The tears flowed freely now, like the words from your mouth. Blood on skin.

He stayed silent, not looking up. Your heart broke just a little, but you felt that you deserved it.

The thought that came next was fleeting, escaping, flying from your grasp like a kite with a broken string. It was just a shard of a memory—you could feel the drunkenness, the pain, the longing, and the love—and you remembered thinking, Jimin, I think I—

Don't give him false hope.

Is it really false, though?

Doesn't matter. Don't say it. You'll mess everything up.

"You may be hurt—and I know it's my fault, but I swear I tried my best not to let you end up this way," you whispered, tracing invisible patterns on your thigh. "And seeing you like this doesn't help."

Jimin's hands hung limp. He didn't say a single word, the look on his face resembling that of a dead man, and you died again.

"I'm sorry," you said, finally.

Silence.

You closed your eyes.

||

Afshajsssk i feel so bad for both of them

Thank you so much for 100K! I love you kittens so much.

Love,
Manx

AND NOW WE'RE AT TEN MILLION, TIME REALLY FLIES HUH? ily guys so much i really do, thank you for being thousands of little stars in the night of my life <3