"I want the broken boy i have known my whole life. I may not get Jimin back but at least I get you my Jiminie."
Two children fell in love. But life isnt always roses and rainbows. Park Jimin runs away from his first chance of redemption, what if sh...
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I cursed under my breath as I awkwardly wedged my suitcase against the white wall of my new house, in order to not let it roll back down the hill I just had to climb- I had already had to chase it a little way once already.
Grumbling to myself about my stupidity of wanting to live in a town rather than the city because it was cheaper, I tried to scramble for the piece of paper with the house code I had hurriedly scribbled on before getting on my plane in Manchester.
Then just my luck, as I was just about to enter the last code into the electronic system, I dropped the paper, then dropped my grocery bag- spilling its contents on the floor, then dropping my handbag and to round it off, lost my hold on my suitcase, as it tumbled down the hill again.
Using every curse word to man, I rushed to grab the demon on wheels, but before I could reach it, it stopped.
A pair of heavy black boots, stopping it in its tracks and the voice of a deep chuckle sounded as my eyes slowly travelled up the leather covered muscular thighs, to the firm, white t-shirt covered chest.
Then to my saviour's face.
Hello Adonis, fuck me please.
Both hands had tattoos, his left with an intricate flower pattern I would often see when doing mehndi on my family members, then the other with the word burn. Hints of further tattoos peeking out from his leather, biker-jacket.
"Erm, excuse me miss." He smirked at me. Oh! Take me to heaven, I thought. He was Australian. "Do you need help? I am Christian. Christian Yu. Do you speak English?"
"I erm... Motorbike?", I blurted, ignoring his question as I caught sight of the black 2019 iron 883 Harley parked on the curb opposite my house.
I shook my head, cheeks heating up, "I mean, you ride?".
Then flushed again at the innuendo, "Do you ride that Harley?", I corrected.
He smirked at my flustered state, "I do, she's my baby.", he glanced behind him. Then turned towards me again motioning my stuff scattered on the ground. "Shall we pick these up?", his smirk turned to a warm smile.
Dumbfounded, I nodded and bent to grab what I could. Everything gathered, I noticed something close to his feet. Shit, how embarrassing.
There at his feet lay a neon yellow pack of Bodyform pantiliners, and to top it off, a bright pink pack of my emergency sanitary towels.
Why did they make those things so obvious to the eye? They couldn't be any more discreet, could they?
I quickly made a grab at them, but unfortunately luck really wasn't on my side today, as Christian reached and got them first, putting them in the previously discarded bag. If I was pink before, now I am burning red. Which he noticed.
