He pinned her against the wall with his hand wrapped around her throat. She coughed and scratched at him, but all he did was glare. "Say that to my face, princess."
She spat on his hand, gagging before smiling and meeting his eyes. "You're a bitch."...
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A/N This is the first Jimin POV in 20 chapters... and it's the last chapter. I'm so heartbroken and I wrote the story.
Guess what: it's my birthday. I wanted to finish this story on my birthday since I thought that'd be fitting. Happy Army Day and happy birthday to me. My biggest flex is that BTS wishes me a happy birthday and my bday is marked on official BTS merch lmao cry about it <3
I'm requesting you read the end note before leaving your comments about the ending.
┊ ˚➶ ｡˚𝓕𝓲𝓷𝓪𝓵𝓮 ˚｡➶˚┊
The Islands were beautiful.
Jimin grinned as he sauntered down the gravel path leading to the villa Jungkook had told him about. There was more color here than anywhere else. He made sure to buy as much as he could from the marketplaces. The bag on his back was filled with snacks he had never heard of. Although he wanted to gobble them all up, he made a mental note to save at least a little for Ash and Jihyun to split.
The elegant villa before him belonged to none other than Y/n L/n, his ex-girlfriend. Or ex-fiancée. His memories were almost clear, but some of them were blurry or walked a thin line between reality and a dream. He thought Y/n being his fiancée was a dream. Perhaps he'd ask her if she let him in.
Shadow was out front. She neighed and went to him, and he laughed as she licked his face. He rubbed the side of her head and cherished the feeling of her coat.
"Hey girl," he murmured, kissing the top of her head and scratching behind her ears. "I'm gonna go say hi to your mom, okay?"
Shadow backed away and allowed him to move. He stepped up and pressed the doorbell. He pulled on the strap of his bag and prayed she would answer. It took a minute, but she did, and his eyes jolted upon seeing her.
She had cut her hair, just like he did. She had the same frame, only she was wearing better clothes than he had ever seen her in. It was hot here, so she was wearing a floral romper. Much to his amazement, she wasn't hiding her stump. There were no bandages. He could see the marred flesh, and it made him sick knowing he caused that.
"I," Y/n started, holding the door tightly. "Am way too sober for this. Goodbye."
Right when she went to close the door, he placed his four-fingered hand on it. "Please, five minutes of your time."
"Jimin, you don't understand."
"Oh please," he said, opening the door. With or without her second hand, he'd overpower her any day. "If anyone understands, it's me. You know that. I know what it feels like to see someone and be reminded of all the shit they put you through. You think I don't have PTSD too? You think I don't wake up in cold sweats every other night?"
