The Bouquet

Chapter 8

The way time worked was rather funny, hours slipped into days, days tumbled into weeks, and weeks spread into months. Your time with Jin was rocky at first, but the two of you had found a balance. You could say you were comfortable with one another, but things didn't progress past comfortability on your side. Jin was rather sweet, he was always trying to be a good spouse to you, but you couldn't really say you were doing the same for him.

It wasn't uncommon for you to slip into your attacks every now and then, and it also wasn't uncommon for Jin to be present for them either. In fact, whenever they occurred he was always there. To some, that would be comforting. He certainly did help you out of them but for the most part you wished he just would stop touching you and let you breathe on your own.

Things were comfortable, but they were not perfect.

Your recovery from the incident hadn't been as progressive as you hoped it would be. Months had drifted by and still you couldn't remember anything on your own. The only knowledge you had of your life before the accident was entirely second hand, all delivered to you via your husband. Your head injury had healed, the stitches having been removed long ago. The lacerations to your skin had all but disappeared and the purple bruises had long since faded. It was your leg that was a bitch.

The cast was gone, but you had a very noticeable limp and struggled to walk on it. Every step caused a blast of pain throughout the limb that sent you stumbling with every attempt to use it. Your husband assured you he was doing everything he could to help to rehabilitate your leg, but he was no physical therapist. That was for damn sure, because even you knew that you should be healed by this point. To say you were frustrated was an understatement.

Jin was beyond caring, so much in fact that it felt like he was babying you. The only reason you were able to do anything in the house was because you had to fight him on it every single time. You had more freedoms now than you did at the beginning, but it still was massively annoying. You shouldn't have to ask to walk around, or to get yourself food, or to even try and learn how to cook on your own.

Jin was adamant on his place in the kitchen, especially after you had tried your own hand at cooking and had set the stove top ablaze. It wasn't your fault you didn't know how to cook, you were certain it was another lovely side effect of your head injury considering Jin had told you the two of you used to cook together all the time. He wasn't the best teacher either, he was too invested in making each dish perfect to slow down or wait for you and at the end of the day he was a good cook so you really didn't have much room to complain.

You had taken to sitting on the counter as he cooked beside you, your good leg swinging freely in front of you as you watched him mix together dry ingredients in a large silver bowl. He was singing to himself as he did so, sweet, high notes bouncing through the large kitchen as you listened carefully. You were jealous of his voice, not only was the full package but he had a damn good voice that could send you off to sleep without a try. God sure did play favorites.

A sudden chirp interrupted his song, his body jumping in fright as he patted himself down for his phone. You could hear him swearing under his breath at the fright he had given himself before he pulled his phone free from his sweatshirt, his face paling at his eyes connected with the screen.

He took in a deep breath before he answered the call, "Hello?"

"Jin, I need you here, now." It was Namjoon, his voice stern yet riddled with panic.

"Why? What's going on?"

"The baby is coming." He simply responded.

"Fuck, okay, I'll be there soon."