𝗚𝗢𝗧𝟳 𝗜𝗠𝗔𝗚𝗜𝗡𝗘𝗦 𝟮

journalism pt 2 ; jackson

A/N: I am so so sorry guys for the last chapter that I posted a few days ago, I totally forgot that I posted it in my first imagines book because sometimes it does get a little messy. But here it is journalism pt2 featuring our one and only jackson!

Again, for those of you who would like to request please do DM me your plot as well as the member you would like me to write the story with so that it makes it easier for me. Any part 2s are also welcome if you guys could help me out with the plot a little! 

Once again I'd like to acknowledge you guys for my 1K followers as well as giving me the opportunity to enter my two stories GOT7 Imagines 1 and this book into the Wattys Contest and I hope for the best!

Q: Who is your YGTB bias? 

A: I definitely love yedam but I'm torn between hyunsuk and haruto as my wreckers!

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You leaned back in your seat, arms folded across your chest as you closed your eyes and tried to bring back to memory the look on Jackson's voice as you wrenched yourself away from him, each step seeming to tear something apart physically inside of you.

It wasn't as if you weren't used to saying goodbye to him. The number of times he had escorted you to the airport even in the wee hours of the morning, was more than you could count. But this case, something felt different, there was this nagging at the back of your mind, you could be called superstitious or crazy for all you cared but it was like there was a sixth sense urging you not to go.

Some would call it instinct, some would call it nerves and others would call it utter nonsense, but all you could do now, as there came that stomach lurching feeling of the airplane taking off as the huge beast rumbled into the air was lean your head against the rough fabric surface of the uncomfortable chair that made your neck ache if you sat in it for too long, and close your eyes, falling into a restless sleep.

9 Hours Later

You awoke, as expected with a throbbing headache, you hated the aisle seat, it was never as comfortable as the window seat for you, and the pillows that they had given during the flight seemed to be made up of rocks, as you rubbed your aching neck, twisting it sharply to the left hearing the satisfying crack of bones as you popped your other joints as well, getting rid of the numb feeling of sitting too long, allowing for some better circulation.

For some reason, despite your long rest, you felt more tired than rested and you were irritable, eager to get this job done and to go home to Jackson again, whom you were missing with a palpable ache.

'Come on,' a gruff voice said as you jerked your head up to your tour guide, he preferred to be addressed as just Kamir, a hulk of a man, his accented English flowed with a melody that you knew could never seem replicate. 'We have to hurry,' he said, tugging on his bulging backpack that seemed full to bursting with thing that you didn't even want to begin naming.

'What's wrong?' you scrambled to your feet, wincing as your blood rushed from your head to your extremities in a short amount of time leaving you light-headed. Grabbing your meagre belongings, you rushed to his side and asked, eyes much brighter than before, it seemed that you were finally in what you liked to call your journalism mood, where you finally had the hunger for a story, which was made you so damned good at your job in the first place.

'If you want to go and catch this story, you have to move in quickly before they close all entry to non-military personnel,' he grunted, naturally cleaving through the crowd as he went.