CHP 29

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It's been a few days since the incident. Jimin hasn't stepped foot out of Jeongguk's house - bedroom, mind you - and even if he wanted to, the bodyguards huddling both the entrance and exit of the extensive building wouldn't allow it.

He also hasn't parted with Jeongguk's jacket during all three days he's had it but he knows that soon he'll have to considering it's beginning to lose the man's calming aroma. Jimin never expected it to be something suitable enough in helping him get through his panic attacks or merely during small moments of fear. Somehow it's become his anchor when Jeongguk happens to be near yet far.

And yet despite this pause of relaxation - despite obtaining a very rare frame of time to actually breathe and sit still, his thoughts swarm with Jeongguk as he's been busy at the station these last couple of days. Apparently based off of Jimin's admission pertinent to his assault and some things So-Young's fling had said, the policemen have managed to bring forth the foundation for a plan and garner some information based off of Kai's motivation for his killings.

Jimin also hasn't really been told anything and has difficulty in figuring out whether or not it's a good thing. Of course he'd rather have some insight as to what's going on but he's aware that if he knows too much, his condition will only worsen and right now, the people around him are doing what they can to make sure it doesn't.

A tiny exhale parts his lips and he sits up in bed the moment he hears the front door open. He's shuffling about in the blankets and manages to situate himself before Jeongguk knocks softly on the bedroom door, calling out with a gentle timbre to let the teacher know that it is indeed him.

"Come on," Jimin beckons quietly, fingers at work and fumbling with the sleeves of Officer Jeon's jacket.

The policeman opens the door and walks into the bedroom slowly. He closes the door behind him and Jimin's skepticism grows as he notices the brunette is keeping his arms hidden behind his back, out of view.

"How was your day, angel?" Jeongguk asks and remains put, a few feet away from the foot of the bed.

A very delicate blush lingers along Jimin's cheeks and dusts down the column of his neck to reach his collarbones. He pulls his bottom lip in between his teeth and chews on it softly, timid gaze landing on the policeman's inviting doe eyes.

"...It was okay," he murmurs and tucks some of his disheveled blond hair behind his ear. "...What's behind your back?" he asks.

Jeongguk's lips pull into a faint smile. The teacher watches as the brunette takes a couple more steps toward the bed and then takes a languid seat, sure that their eyes never leave one another's.

Jimin hasn't moved, face still very much pink as he roves Jeongguk's body, trying to gauge what his next movements and words will be. It's been awhile since they've had a moment together by themselves and so that only reflects on the blond's obvious uncertainty as his eyes crinkle and his lips pout.

Needless to say, he isn't prepared for the dainty, small bouquet of roses presented before him as they leave the obscurity of Jeongguk's fit frame.

"Jeongguk," Jimin projects oh-so-quietly, like that of a mouse as his small hands cover his mouth.

He can't remember the last time he's been gifted flowers, or anything for that matter. Of course he isn't materialistic, however. It doesn't have to be big. It can be something small, such as a hand written letter conveying true emotion. Anything that helps him find the worth in himself. Because as sad as it is to admit it, he needs approval from other people and not just himself. It's toxic but it's real and he knows for a fact that in that sense, he isn't totally alone.

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