nineteen˚ ༘♡ ⋆❀thunderstorm and tears

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Jin's POV

It's dark, the clouds pouring rain.

I step out of the shower, drying my hair lazily with a towel.

It's late, nearly midnight. The others decided to go out for a drink. Said they wanted to live up not having to work tomorrow.

Li was asleep on the couch, carried to bed by Namjoon, and I decided to stay. For whatever reason, drinking didn't sound as appealing as it usually does. The warm burn of liquor down my throat didn't feel needed when a different warmth was occupying the walls of this house, tucked into her bed with pink cheeks and flushed features.

A loud clap of thunder sounds, and I glance at my bedroom door. It's slightly ajar, and I tell myself it's a normality, but it's not; I know that. It's open in case the warmth tucked away in her bed needs something.

In case she needs me.

I finish drying my hair and toss the towel over the rack on the way to my dresser.

I'm pulling on a white T-shirt, thinking about my schedule for tomorrow when my actions halt. I squint as I listen, my eyes flitting toward my door.

It's quiet, the rain falling against the house the only sound.

I'm still for a moment, listening, but upon hearing nothing, I resume tidying up.

A few minutes pass of this before a similar noise sounds once more. This time, I walk to my door. Grabbing the knob, I pull back and step into the hallway. I've barely stepped out when the reason for the sound appears at the end of the hall.

Eyes full of tears and the rim of her T-shirt caught between her teeth, soaked with her nervous gnawing, she stands, tugging at the hem as pitiful whimpers leave her lips.

My brows knit together at the sight, a sharp pang clawing at my chest as her big eyes meet mine.

Her breath hitches in her throat, and my name leaves her in a timid whisper.

I say her name in response. Slowly, carefully.

She perks up slightly, shifting in place.

I watch her for a moment, taking in her current state before asking, "What's going on?"

When the next clap of thunder sounds louder than the last, I don't need a response. She jumps, her eyes widening in fear, and she's running; she's running straight to me.

I barely have time to catch her, her body shaking and trembling as it slams into mine. Her hands grasp weakly onto my shirt, whimpers and sharp shudders leaving her with every breath.

I hold the back of her head, my own heart rate elevating at the sight of her tears—at the sound of her choked sobs as she tries to keep them quiet.

"I don't feel good," she stammers.

I hesitate, unsure, but my hands seem to work before I do, lowering to rub her back.

"What's wrong?" I prompt softly.

She noses at my shirt, sniffling as she clings to me. "I don't know."

"You don't know?"

"Yeah, it's just...I feel dizzy, and the thunder's really loud, and my head hurts."

A frown tugs at my lips. "Your head hurts?"

She hiccups. "Yeah."

I lean back, peering down into her face. She looks up at me, brown eyes cascading tears, and I tilt her chin up, examining her features and how hard it is for her to catch her breath.

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