My Light, My Jimin

Chapter 44: Bullies

JIMIN

I can't sleep.

My body is sore, and my heart is at ease for the first time in what feels like forever.  For all purposes, I should be able to rest in my lover's arms, knowing that he's actually mine. 

Even though how we started was the equivalent to stepping around egg shells. 

I trust him now, and I trust that no one is watching us anymore.  There's no judgement or whispers behind my back that I have to strain to listen and then regret ever trying to comprehend what others don't understand.  Maybe I'm being paranoid, but on the coldest nights like tonight, I can't help but think back to eyes watching and waiting for me to split open for the world to see. 

Glancing at the clock, I roll out of the large bed where Yoongi is sleeping peacefully next to me and tiptoe over to the desk in the corner, picking up his cardigan and wrapping up in it.  I make my way out of the room and downstairs to the living room. 

It's a beautiful night, and I stop by the window that overlooks the forest.  If I bend just slightly, I can see the moon peeking out from the tree line.  I'm so lost in the moment, the serene quiet blanketing the air, that I almost dismiss the creaking of the floorboard above my head. 

I look up at the stairway, expecting Yoongi to be there and tell me to return to bed, but I don't.

The steps creak, long and creepily, and I wonder if Yoongi is playing a joke on me.  Sneaking around the house trying to scare me in an attempt to get me back to bed.  I grip his cardigan tight around me and take a step forward. 

It's difficult to see in the dark, so it isn't until I squint my eyes that I'm able to make out a shadowy figure walking across the hallway into our room. 

That's strange.  Usually Yoongi would at least be looking for me, or maybe he'd call my name.  Maybe he's just tired.  Maybe I'm overexaggerating. 

But then I hear the door upstairs close, and my gut stiffens, already sensing something's off.

I'm just about to call for Yoongi when something hard hits the floor above me with a thud, then stomping of feet that I know are not his. 

Adrenaline pumps through me, but it takes my feet a second to catch up before I race upstairs and slam open the bedroom door.  There, on the bed pinning Yoongi down with a hand clasped around his neck, is Kim Young-sang.

At first, all I take in is the fact that he's alive and trying to kill Yoongi.  Then I notice the small, dark pistol in his other hand.  Pointed at me.  It's all so fast and the pistol doesn't even seem—

"It's real.  And it's loaded," he says, eyes glaring at me.  "A man looking out for his life can't be too careful."

My voice trembles.  "How are you. . . How did you find us?"

The look he gives me is almost sympathetic.  "I'm good at finding people.  Especially those who try to murder me in my own home."  He laughs, and it's the most darkest joke I've ever heard.  "I thought I would repay the favor."

I lick my dry lips.  "So. . . what?  You kill us for defending ourselves when you attacked first?"

His eyebrows shoot up, then his gaze shifts to Yoongi.  "So the school boy doesn't know?"

Under Young-sang, Yoongi struggles to pry him off his neck.  "This is between the two of us.  You came to kill me.  Leave Jimin out of this!"

"No, what does he mean?" I ask.  "Why are you trying to kill either of us?  What did we ever do to you?"  My gaze flicks between the gun, Young-sang, and Yoongi.  "Is this about what happened at Daegu?  Is that it?"