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His walk was stern, feet slamming on the wooden floors angrily as he made his way out if the room. You nervously look at him, eyes pleading as you watch him take strong strides out of the room. Jimin's mother looks unfazed as her child angrily storms off.
"How dare you bring him up." His Aunt snapped, "My brother - Jimin's Father is a lot more than your stupid personal vendetta. Jimin is still young, throwing that topic at him while he has yet to do deal with it is not only pathetic but extremely insensitive."
"He's my child. I can do what I want."
And you almost laugh at her. Despite there not being anything being remotely hilarious.
You wanted to get up and excuse yourself from the table - but you have a feeling that Jimin might want a few seconds to himself before you come along and probably invade his space.
"Well you don't treat him like one!" His Aunt yells, " If anything - I am more of a mother to my nephew than what you are. You a sick. Every moment I see and hear the bullshit that comes out of your mouth, hearing the way you talk to him makes my skin crawl. You are disgusting - if anything! You are the monster here. You heartless bitch."
Your eyes widen at her words.
"I told Seojoon not to marry you from the very beginning - don't for one ever think that you were ever a part of this family. Just because you have his name does not mean that we accept you." She shouts, "Jimin is practically my child. And you treat him as he is the one who killed your husband. Sick in the head."
And she stands. Pushing her chair away and also storming off. Her husband instantly following - but as your glance at his mother...
Her face was blank. No emotion whatsoever before reaching for her glass of wine and taking a good gulp from it.
"Excuse me, " You say quietly, bowing respectively to the people surrounding the table, you don't bother looking at her as your mind as practically racing at how tension high was in this household.
All of it was outrageous and overall depressing. Your mind replays those days where Jimin's behavior was one you couldn't accept. But now that you see the environment he grew up in...you understand why he was or is the way he is.
Jimin has wounds - one you couldn't really heal no matter how hard you tried.
It was made clear that he hasn't yet mourned properly over his father, and how he had to also deal with how his mother was treating him. You were more scared now - and one thing that was pleading in your head was Jimin's mental health.
Was he ever going to be okay from all of this?
Your hand find the doorknob, twisting it gently and leaning into the room. Your lips were captured between your teeth, eyes scanning around the room to find any signal of Jimin.
He sits on the chair in the corner, spreading his legs widely - allowing his posture to sink into the chair. Jimin brings the wine bottle to his lips, taking steady gulps and all you can do is watch, a frown appeared on your face.
Jimin needed to get out of there.
He knows you might be disappointed at his thoughts - angry even. However at this very second - Jimin was willing to risk it all. The desire within him burned as the adrenaline rushes to through his veins like an overflowing river. Jimin knew that the very moment he leaves the house, he was never planning on coming back.
Even if it meant leaving you behind.
"Jimin." You whisper, taking a small step away from the door in his direction.
But what was stopping him? What made Jimin sit here in the corner and drink away his feelings instead of going out and deal with them in a way that his used to?
Being a vandal for him was a form of expression. Jimin was never the type to talk. His hands were enough tools to portray what he was feeling. His mother made him feel like a bruised good with no worth.
He felt as if - if maybe he ruined things so that they can lose their worth. It might give him some value but after every session. Jimin always felt empty.
He glances up to your orbs, despite them being dark because you were the other side of the room. Jimin could see the worry in them. Anxiety swirling in them like a hurricane as your voice reached his ears in a calm tone.
That's why.
You were the reason why he didn't want to get up. You were the main reason as to why he wouldn't dare go out and deal with it. Because he knew that if he ever did that. He would lose you. But Jimin needed help - something to stop this rush that he was feeling right now.
"Come sit on my lap." He says lowly, placing the bottle on the floor before tapping his fingers on his strong thighs.
You tilt your head at him, reaching behind you for the doorknob before twisting the small ledge to lock it.
"Jimin, " You say concerned, eyes begging as you take small steps towards him. "Babe I don't think it's a good idea if we-"
"I said, come sit." Jimin licks his lips, "On my lap, Angel I don't want to fight with you right now."
You obey his order, still giving a look of uncertainty as you made your way to him. His hands land on your waist, pulling you into him. You yelp, chest heaving as your thighs made their way on either side of him. Your hand's rest on his chest.
You know where this is going.
But something didn't feel right. His eyes were black, your tiny reflection lives in them but there was something off-putting about it all. They looked like a never-ending pit, soul-sucking and somewhat empty.
