Terrible Things

Chapter 18 - Then

December 30th, 6 years ago

"Are you sure you really need to go in today?" I ask Jimin. "You're 32 weeks pregnant, Chim. I'm sure the class can get on just fine without you."

Jimim wraps his scarf around his neck, his hand going to his stomach - the bump there refusing to hide under his layers of clothing. "I know how pregnant I am, Yoongi. We've talked about this." He moves to me, his walk now more of a waddle, his hands coming to rest on my shoulders. "My students have a recital this weekend and this is the final practice. I really want to be there for them."

My eyes slide to the window, taking in the flakes drifting down outside - slowly but surely blanketing the city in a coating of white. "But it's snowing," I argue.

He rolls his eyes at my weak argument. "As if we've never driven in snow before. Would the 2 miles to the studio be considered a drive anyway? Debatable."

"I still don't like it," I grumble. "But, as long as you promise to call if you need anything, I won't totally freak out when you're gone."

He beams at me and I swear my heart could stop right there in that moment. If I got smiles like this, why wouldn't I give Jimin everything he wanted? "Thank you." He wraps his arms around my neck, pressing a kiss to my cheek. "I promise to call."

Burying my nose in his neck, I breathe him in - letting his strawberry and creme smell ease my worry. Jimin would be okay, I knew that. The drive wasn't far, it wasn't snowing that bad out, and he was more than capable of taking care of himself but still my instincts fought me on letting him go. I wanted to protect him, to keep him - and our child - safe.

Pulling back, I give my mate a soft kiss before dropping in front of him. I cradle his stomach in my hands. "Don't cause too much trouble for your DaDa, Tae," I coo, rubbing Jimin's stomach. Two small kicks hit my hand, my face lighting up in a smile. "I'll take that as an okay."

"He always kicks when you talk to him," Jimin sighs as I stand back up. "It's unfair."

"Don't worry. Sometimes I'm sure he's doing it just so he can hit me. He must've gotten his Dad's temper."

"You better be talking about you because I do not have a temper."

"Mhmmmmm and pigs fly." Jimin swats my arms and I gasp, cradling it as if I'd been shot. "See," I groan, "so much violence in such a little body."

He goes to swat me again and I dodge away, giggling. He chases me for a few seconds, but soon grows tired, his breathing becoming labored. "Okay, okay," he pants. "You win."

I'm at his side in an instant, gathering him into my arms. I squeeze him to me, whispering into his hair, "Please be careful, my love."

"I will," he assures me, pulling away from me. "I'll call you as soon as I'm on my way home." I nod, and then he's gone, the silence of our new home descending on me.

In the two months since we moved here, I spent very little of tgat time alone. Usually Jimin was here to brighten everything, and without him it felt duller, like the color had left with him.

When we found out Jimin was pregnant, we quickly realized that our apartment didn't have enough space to accomodate a small child, or a nesting Jimin.

So I bought a plot of land outside the city, but still close enough to our studio that it wouldn't be a problem to commute, and Jimin went to work designing our future home and I paid whatever it took to get it built quickly.

Traces of Jimin were everywhere, from the touches of blue around the room, to the modern design of the house. Pictures of us cover the walls, our smiling faces watching me from every corner.

I wouldn't lie, it was kind of creepy here without Jimin.

I move through the house and up the stairs, bypassing our room to the one next to it.

Taehyung's nursery is almost finished, only a few minor things left to do. And with less than two months until our son arrives, we were making great time.

And really I had Jimin to thank for that. He designed the nursey and kept me on track with putting everything in place.

It turned out beautiful. The walls are white, the different moon phases lining them. The far wall is completely made of glass, the light blocked only by a sheer white curtain. The crib sits in front of it, a blue canopy covering one corner of it.

I can't help but roll my eyes at the alpaca picture that hangs above the crib - a gift from Jin. I don't understand the purpose of it, but Jimin did and that's all that matters.

Ignoring the way it feels like it's eyes are watching me, I move to the closet, pulling out a large cardboard box. Inside is our last piece of furniture for the nursery, a white dresser for the piles of clothes that are taking up all the space in our closet. After this, the room will be finished and ready for when our little man comes home.

I turn on some music, letting myself get lost in the steps of assembling the dresser.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I jump as my phone rings, dropping the screwdriver on my shin. "Fuck," I groan, rubbing the sore spot. I grab the phone, shoving it to my ear. "Hello?"

"Hey hey hey." My face lifts in a smile, the pain from earlier forgotten at the sound of Jimin's voice. "I'm calling to let you know I'm on my way home."

"How was the class?"

"They're so cute," he gushes. "And they're getting so good. I can't wait to see the recital."

I hear the click of his seatbelt, the car grumbling to life in the background. I wait a second, letting his phone connect to the bluetooth of his car. "How's the weather?"

"Snowing harder than earlier. But I'll be home before-"

He cuts off, and I wait for him to speak. "Jimin?" My heart pounds in my chest. "Jimin?"

"Sorry, sorry," he says. "I was pulling out and had to focus."

"Be safe, okay? Come home to me."

"Of course, worrywart. And Yoongi?"

"Hm?"

"I love-"

A horn blares, a scream joins in, and a terrible screeching noise tops it off as it fills my ear - creating a song that drowms me in dread and brings my world to a halt.

And then the conductor stops and the world falls silent as the call drops and I'm left screaming into nothing.