His Straying Ghost

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Oddly enough the mainspring wasn't broken.

It simply needed relubrication and cleaning, and of course a new crystal to cover the face after the original one had been cracked and broken.

With that I had filled the entire week of Jimin's absence. Working on the pocket watch much to Taehyung's displeasure, as he had trouble parting from me in the mornings when I became headstrong to start working again. The groundskeeper even offered to move my desk to his room, seeing as I barely slept in my own bed anymore anyway. But I told him he would only try his best to distract me, and the man couldn't lie to defend himself.

I didn't think I would grow this nervous, but I was near frantic, my fingers unable to stop trembling as I cleaned a random vase in the entrance hall of the house over and over again as a petty excuse to stay there and wait for the millionaire to arrive.

I wiped down the same vase as my mind traveled further away, and I wondered how Jimin would react when he saw me again. Would he remember how we spoke? What I told him? How we slept together?

Memories brought be back to having Jimin in my arms.

The millionaire had given me so much comfort by simply letting me hold him that night. When I was so vulnerable and he healed the part of me that was hurting. I wanted so badly to do the same for him, especially after what Taehyung told me a few days ago.

The absurd arrangement mister Park had made with his son. The cage he had trapped the boy in. Before I knew how wonderful living free was I wouldn't have found the deal very strange, which unnerved me a little. But Jimin was a person that deserved to be loved, and deserved to give love. I had known that to be true since the first moment I met him.

I wanted to bring him the same kind of solace he had given me when he told me I wasn't alone. The same consolation. And I hoped that somehow fixing that old clock for him, making it tick confidently against the glass again, would help him at least a little.

My body froze and I perked my ears when I heard the frontdoor creak softly as it opened behind me.

I swallowed thickly, my heart skipping a beat as I realised that after a full week without him, I would finally be seeing my master again.

I turned around and carefully edged my lips as my excitement couldn't be contained. But my smile fell quickly.

A boy stood there. Thinner than when I last saw him. Paler.

Jimin's eyes dark eyes met mine, but they looked terrified and hurriedly shifted away. He wrapped his arms around himself, looking ill almost, as if he'd caught a bad disease and needed to vomit.

Before I could greet him, before I could even speak his name Jimin ran off, storming up the stairs and fleeing to his room like a frightened child.

My lips parted, and I wasn't sure if I had imagined the boy coming home, or if that was truly the millionaire I had just seen standing there.

I lingered in the entrance hall, standing completely stunned for a while, but I shook my head soon after, not granting myself time to linger thoughtlessly when I knew what solitude could do to the millionaire.

I stopped wasting time and ran up the stairs, through the hallway with a pounding heart but a clear goal in mind, Jimin's pocket watch weighing heavy in my pants though I was excited to hand it to him. Excited to perhaps conjure at least a small smile onto the man's worn out face.

I reached his room and placed my hand on the door handle, but seconds away from opening it, an unpleasant voice startled me.

"The fuck are you doing here?"

𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐂𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐬 | VMINKOOK✔Where stories live. Discover now