Pretty Little Thing || PJM || ✔️

24.

"Hey," There was a soft voice to Jimin's right as he began to stir, "How you feeling?"

He tried to open his eyes fully, but the light was much too bright. It pierced through to the inside of his skull, stabbing at his brain.

Breathing was also accompanied by sharp stabs, but he was grateful for the pain; it meant that he was no longer numb and cold, trapped inside his own head.

However, his body felt sore and heavy, and he could feel something pressing down over his nose and chin, covering his mouth and nostrils.

His full lips parted, letting out a rush of air with a tiny groan, and he heard the voice again.

"It's okay, Jimin," The voice was calming and soft, and he relaxed his body, suddenly aware that he was tense all over, "You're safe now,"

Jimin slowly turned his head to the comforting voice, his eyes still closed. The crisp pillowcase covering the pillow beneath his head rustled, and there was a rhythmic beeping echoing quietly through the room that he hadn't noticed before.

Hospital?

Slowly, millimetre by millimetre he crakes his eyelids open, and when his eyes were used to the bright light and his sight was no longer blurry, he could make out the features of the person who had been talking to him.

"Yoongi," He breathed out the name and the dark haired man smiled at him.

"You're back from the dead, huh?" He chuckled, "Gave us quite the scare. Namjoon and Jungkook went to grab a coffee, I'm sure they'll be right back,"

Jimin tried to lift his head, but felt Yoongi's cool hand land on his forehead.

"Rest for now," He said gently, "There will be time to explain when you're feeling better,"

Jimin sighed, his eyes closing again. This time, when he felt his eyes roll back as sleep overcame him, he went willingly. For some reason, he felt safe.

***

"Goddamn, he's been asleep for so long," Namjoon muttered, stretching his muscles with a grunt, "For almost forty hours,"

"He needed it," Jungkook said, patting Jimin's hand, "He's exhausted,"

"And he died," Namjoon pointed out.

"That, too," His friend agreed.

They slipped into silence, listening to the steady beeping of the monitors attached to Jimin, and watching the gentle rise and fall of his chest.

Yoongi and Hoseok had both gone home, leaving instructions with the pair to take Jimin to see them once he was discharged.

Hoseok had blessed the room he was staying in, but wanted to give him another blessing once he was up and about. Yoongi still wanted to explain what had happened to Jimin, and had mentioned that he thought it would be best if Jimin went back to see Dr Kim Seokjin again to help him through the trauma; this time, he would be able to help.

As they sat quietly, Jimin began to stir and they hoped that this time he would wake up completely. Over the past two days, he had been in and out of sleep, briefly waking up when a nurse checked his vitals and quickly succumbing to sleep again.

"Namjoon," Jimin's voice was breathy, "Jungkook,"

"You're awake," Namjoon said happily as Jungkook's face lit up, "We thought we'd lost you Jimin, oh my God,"

"What happened?" Jimin groaned, pushing himself so he was slightly more upright. He winced as pain shot through his chest, and Jungkook quickly stuffed a pillow behind him to support him.

"Your ribs are broken," Namjoon explained, "Yoongi had to use CPR to keep you alive, and it broke your ribs,"

"No wonder it hurts," Jimin remarked, "And what about... You know,"

Jungkook and Namjoon glanced at each other.

"It's gone," Jungkook said, "But we don't know what happened. You have to see Yoongi once you're out of here, he'll explain,"

Jimin hummed and closed his eyes. He hadn't felt so relaxed in a long time, and now he couldn't wait to get out of hospital and go house hunting. He needed to move. He couldn't be comfortable in that house anymore.

***

Jimin's new room had almost no wood in it. The bed frame was metal, his desk was metal and glass and even his wardrobe and drawers were made from some kind of plastic on a metal frame. The only wood in the room were the floorboards, and they were hidden under a plush grey carpet.

He was lucky enough to find a new place that he could share with his friends, and he felt comfortable and happy as he lie down in his bed after spending a few hours studying.

His window - which was double glazing and therefore not on a wooden frame - was closed and locked and he switched his lamp off as he cuddled under the duvet and pulled on his little sleep mask that he had become accustomed to wearing.

He relaxed as he felt sleep pull him, comfortably leading him to rest.

Until he felt a sharp, icy cold wind flow over his body and heard the sound of long, sharp fingernails dragging along the outside of his bedroom door.

"Pretty Little Thing, you will always be mine,"

—-

AN: Sorry for taking to long to update!

It will be ending very soon!