Jungkook p.o.v
you don't
--
It's been sixteen minutes and thirty seven seconds.
Thirty eight,
thirty nine,
forty,
forty o--
Ding.
I looked up at the door swinging open and then closed. And two seconds later, the middle aged woman's eyes darted to me and she exhaled slowly. She was pretty, with eyes that looked too brown and hair too black. Too familiar.
She walked to my table and sat down, thanking me for the coffee I'd already ordered for her. When she lifted the warm cup to her lips and took a careful sip, her eyes immediately registered and she looked at me as if it was almost tenderness.
Was the caramel machiato that sweet?
"So it really is you."
I nodded.
"Y-yes, I'm Jungkook."
She smiled for the first time and my heart ached even more. That smile was so similar to his.
She adjusted the expensive looking silver bracelet which touched her white dress shirt's cuffs. Her small display of hesitance or perhaps, discomfort seemed to put me on edge as well.
After she'd called me yesterday, asking to meet me at the cafe, I couldn't sleep all night. To know that this was Jimin's own mother who wanted to meet me was gnawing me whole.
She cleared her throat and dabbed her mouth with a napkin, flexing her fingers. I noticed she was wearing a wedding ring on her left hand and immediately realised she was married.
Jimin never talked to me about his father. Only had occasionally commented on his mother's absurd ideas and weekend plans back when we used to engage through patient check ups.
"Jungkook," she started.
She looked at me and her strong guard seemed to be letting down slowly.
"I have a favour to ask of you."
"Of course, you can ask anything, Ma'am."
She tucked her hair behind her ear.
"I have to go out of the country for a while, maybe even longer than four months. But you see, I have a son."
She paused to gauge some kind of reaction from me, but I remained expressionless, trying everything not to scream out his name and begging her to show him to me.
"And, he's in need of careful and constant care giving. I am sure you know he has Alzheimer's, right?"
"Yes."
She nodded and said, "which is why I am asking you to look after Jimin while I'm gone."
My eyes widened and I couldn't believe her words. I was surprised that she was asking me instead of someone, say, Yoongi.
She lifted her hand from her cup and gently placed it on top of mine, voice now on the borderline of pleading.
"Please, I'm begging you."
For the first time, I noticed how fragile and worn out she was looking. There were crow feet beside her eyes and her cheeks looked hollow.
"B-but why are you asking me? Why not ask someone like, Dr. Min or Dr. Kim?"
