Mιѕѕιηg Pαgєѕ || Pαяк Jιмιη

ONE

The year was 2012; it was a year Jimin would rather not remember if he didn’t have to.

“Stop, please! Stop! You’re hurting me!” Yejin yelled to her father as she lay on the ground, covering her head as he kicked her. “You’re drunk, leave me alone!”

“You no good, worthless girl! You should have gone with your mother when she left me, but she left you and you’ve done nothing but cause me problems!” he yelled back to her, winding up for another kick that landed on her arm which was blocking her face which had already been struck previously.

Yejin cried out in pain once more before gathering some courage to try and scramble away to the kitchen—it was the closest place she could arrive to. Finally, getting to her feet, Yejin had essentially slammed into the counter before ripping open a drawer to find the sharpest object she could in there which happened to be a pair of scissors.

Her father stumbled in after her before stopping in his tracks. He watched her wield the scissors with nothing but straight fear in her eyes, but he wouldn’t notice it in his state. “You wouldn’t stab me, I’m your father!” he yelled at her. The fact that he was indeed her father couldn’t have mattered less to her as the abrasion above her eye had caused her temporary blindness as it was swollen shut and covered in blood.

Yejin dropped the scissors and made a dash for her room only to see a frantic Jimin at her window. He was wide-eyed as he looked at her, his hands pressed up against the window as he begged for her to let him in. He could see the tears, the fear, the cuts and bruises on her.

Yejin, after throwing her door closed and locking it tightly, ran over to the window to unlock it and let him in. He climbed through the window once it was opened for him and took her into his arms.

“I can’t take this anymore, Jimin. I can’t do it. He’ll kill me!” she yelled at him, tears bordering her eyes as she fell into him, unsure of what else to do. He just held her and encouraged her to grab her things. The two of them stuffed her two suitcases full of her belongings—clothing, possessions, sentimental items; everything that would fit would go with them.

Yejin had to cover her ears a couple of times as her father banged on the door and yelled through it at her, saying nasty things about how she should have left with her mother and how worthless she was to him. All the while Jimin was there, holding her, protecting her. Silence washed over the both of them as they sat in her room, searching for a good time to make a dash for the exit—the front door.

Only after they could hear snoring did Jimin even crack the door open. He peered out, the elder man nowhere in sight before he signaled to Yejin to grab her things and quietly leave her room.

Jimin ushered Yejin out the door but not without a glance to the elder man who was now unconscious in the main living room chair, a half empty bottle of alcohol just out of his reach. When he turned back forward, he never looked back. He looked over at Yejin who, in her weak state, was kind of struggling with the duffle bag. He took it and slung it over his shoulder, keeping her suitcase in the other hand as they walked towards his home.

“Come on, quietly,” Jimin muttered, taking the young girl’s hand, slightly his senior, as he tugged her along in the dark. Yejin was struggling to even walk there, so he knew taking the bag from her was a good idea even if he was struggling under the weight himself. He knew she needed every ounce of energy she had to herself—honestly, he was surprised she was standing with how beat up she was.

He knew that if it weren’t to cause a huge uproar, he would have just gone in there, confronted Mr. Yang, and taken Yejin himself. But he was young, no older than sixteen years of age, and there was no way, at this point in his life, that he was going to be able to physically take Yejin away from her father.

When they had arrived to Jimin’s home, all he could do was hit the door with his shoulder and shout for help, hoping and praying his mother would come let them in. She did swiftly and helped the two of them in realizing Yejin’s condition and immediately left to the kitchen after Jimin had put the bags down to retrieve a first aid kit.

“Where do you want me to put you?” Jimin asked, but she couldn’t muster a reply as she just held onto him. Frankly, she just didn’t even know what to say. She wanted to say it was okay, but it really wasn’t.

“Yejin!” Jimin called as she fainted into his arms. Mrs. Park poked her head out to see what was going on, to observe the girl who was—to no one’s surprise—fainted probably from exhaustion.

“We should really get her upstairs and into a bed,” Mrs. Park commented calmly. It wasn’t that she didn’t care about the girl, but she did look a lot worse than she actually was and there was no reason to get out of control with emotions—it wouldn’t help anyone. Yejin just needed rest and a little bit of TLC. “I imagine she’s just tired of fighting and is relieved to be safe and sound.”

Jimin couldn’t help but comply as he helped his mother carry the young girl upstairs where Mrs. Park would then tend to her wounds.

“Is there any other wounds you know of?” Jimin’s mother asked, tending to the split above Yejin’s eye immediately to stop it from bleeding into her eye.

“She hasn’t said much since I came to get her; all she’s really told me is how tired she is,” Jimin responded, as he stood, antsy, behind his mother, trying to peek over her to see what was going on. Jimin’s mom put her hand against Yejin’s side to try and hold her still as she worked on the younger female’s eye, but she hissed in pain. Mrs. Park lifted Yejin’s shirt, a nasty bloodied bruise lay under the cloth—it made Jimin nauseous.

“You poor girl, why do you put up with this? You know our house is always open to you,” Mrs. Park commented with no reply from the younger female. She merely sat there, blankly staring into space, trying to keep her flinching and grimacing under the radar as she clenched her teeth as tightly as she could to try and cope with the pain. She couldn’t lie, it hurt. All of it hurt; more now than at first, but wasn’t that typical? Her ribs felt like they were stabbing into her lungs—she wouldn’t have been surprised if any of them were broken, considering the severe bruising and all. Jimin’s mother had commented—after painful frisking—that none of them were broken, but it didn’t seem to calm Yejin at all.

“What can I do for her?” Jimin asked, looking up at his mom with doe eyes.

“Just be there for her like you always have been, son,” she replied to him, not once looking away from the cut over Yejin’s eye that Mrs. Park was taking care of. Jimin just looked at her, unable to figure out what to say for the time being before he softly took Yejin’s hand in both of his. One hand held it, while the other cupped over the top of it. He the back of her hand with his thumb as he looked at her—her face in so much pain and anguish.

“It’s not enough, though,” he replied. Young little sixteen-year-old Jimin was doing more for this girl than could even be asked of him. His mother was proud that she raised such a kind boy, though. “I just want to take her away so she doesn’t have to deal with this anymore,” he added, continuing to watch Yejin’s face.  Mrs. Park finally looked at her son and wrapped her hand around the back of his head to bring him in and kiss his forehead.

“You’re a good boy, Jimin. Remind her that she is welcome to stay here as long as she needs to,” she said. With that, she took all of her first aid things and exited the room, closing the door behind her to leave a half-conscious Yejin with Jimin.

He cooed her name softly, barely loud enough to gather her attention. Her eyes shifted up his body before catching his gaze. Her eyes were clearly tired as they looked back at him and he looked at her sympathetically. He stood from the chair he was sitting in.

Jimin leaned down to take her legs behind the knees over his right arm, lifting her with his left off of the bed so he could find his way under her. He watched her face for any signs of discomfort. Here he was, a sixteen year old boy, rescuing a young girl no older than him from the harsh reality of her life. Was he brave, mature, or just doing the right thing? He didn’t know, he didn’t care; he did, however, care deeply for her—a feeling his heart didn’t really understand right now.

 Gently, he laid Yejin down on his bed, laying her head on his lap. He pulled her hair away from her face, behind her ear as he smoothed it back in a repeated calming motion. He watched the fear on her face increase before she scrambled to find something of his to hang on to, suddenly feeling the realization of the situation with a panic.

“Hey,” he cooed, “I’m right here, I have you. I know you’re scared, I know you’re hurt, but believe that I’d never leave you unprotected,” he whispered to her before she took his hand to pull it down a little. She rested her cheek against it. His hand was warm on her face. “I’m sorry for all of this. If I had shown up earlier—”

“He would have hurt you, too; we both know that,” she replied hoarsely. 

“If it meant you’d be safe, I don’t care,” he told her, tears welling in his eyes as his chest tightened slightly. His jaw clenched tightly as he tried to contain his feelings. He didn’t want to cry in front of her; after so many years of being strong, he didn’t feel it was right. But as much as he tried, he couldn’t stop a single tear that tracked down his face and slipped from his chin onto her cheek.

“Are you crying, Jimin?” she asked quietly.

“No!” he replied weakly as he wiped the streak away with his free hand. “I just can’t even comprehend how another human being could do this to someone, much less their own daughter,” he added, trying to keep his squeaky weak voice down.

“You’re crying, aren’t you?” she asked, dismissing his entire previous statement as she tried to sit up.

“Don’t!” he interjected, holding her back down. She didn’t have enough strength to fight him so she lay back against the bed and looked up at his tear-stained face. It was hard to notice in the dim light, but she could see it and she didn’t want anything more than to wipe them away. Jimin leaned over and touched his forehead to hers, their little display of affection they had since close to the beginning of their friendship.

“I’m just glad you’re safe with me, now,” he stated, “You should get some sleep, you’ve had a long day,” he added with a yawn. She curled forwards slightly to let him out from under her before she crawled under the covers with his help.

“This is your bed, did you want to sleep here?” she asked.

Jimin merely shook his head, “You have it tonight,” he said as he sat down on the bed beside her. “Keep it nice and warm for me,” he teased with a wink, trying to lighten the mood a little. She chuckled to the best of her ability with a nod.

“Goodnight, Jimin,” she said, pulling the covers up over her nose so only her eyes were visible. Jimin reached over to shut off the bedside lamp.

“Goodnight, Yejin,” he replied to her, “have sweet dreams.”

“You, too,” she replied to him as he disappeared through the door, closing it quietly behind him before he headed down the hall to the guest room where he soon stripped of unnecessary clothes and climbed under the rough sheets of the guest bed. He half-frowned at them—they weren’t in the slightest bit comfortable compared to his bed, but they would do for now. Jimin sighed as he looked at the ceiling, finally allowing his eyes to fall closed as he fell into a deep sleep.

Morning was drawing near and Yejin had only been asleep for a couple of hours before she had decided a plan of action: she was going to leave. With her bags still packed and her body feeling rested enough to get up, she rolled over, trying her hardest to avoid all of her wounds before she picked the suitcase up with a grimace and all of her might to lay it on the bed.

Yes, in as much pain as she was in, she couldn’t stay here with Jimin and his family. She felt like a burden. She shuffled around the room before coming into contact with the only thing she was looking for—a piece of memorabilia. She picked up the dirty shirt off the floor and, despite it being dirty, brought it to her face. It was an older shirt; she knew because she had seen him wear it close to when they first met.

Her eyes fluttered as she inhaled—Jimin’s scent was still deep within the fabric. With a limp she walked back over to the suitcase and ped it, flipping the top open to replace an item with the shirt. It was a snapback that she has custom made for him. She tore a piece of paper from a notebook she brought with her to scrawl a note on it, informing him of the plan she had come up with for the time being. She folded it neatly and scripted his name on the outside, leaving it with the snapback on the bed.  

Yejin struggled but she swung the duffle bag over her shoulder to carry that and the suitcase out of the room. She felt like her ribs were going to break, like her legs were going to give out from underneath her, but she pushed on. She left the bags at the top of the stairs before looking at the closed door of the guest bedroom—it wouldn’t be bad to say her last goodbye to him.

She cracked the door open and slid in. Jimin was sleeping peacefully, soundly, but mostly heavily. His mouth lay ajar as his face was half smashed into the pillow, his hair already a mess with the covers pushed half way down his back. She looked him over with a sigh—did she really want to do this? She pushed herself forward, stepping towards him before her hand finally lay in his hair.

“Thank you for everything you’ve ever done for me,” she whispered to him and leaned down to kiss his forehead.

“I love you,” he muttered hoarsely through sleep. Her heart clenched in her chest at his words, tears rimmed her eyes as she pursed her lips, straightening them into a hard line to choke down a sob. Her eyes clenched tightly as she pushed the tears back. She had to leave; she had to leave to find herself. She pushed his hair back away from his forehead before touching her forehead to his.

Jimin was finally coming to which slightly foiled Yejin’s plans. She would have to find some way to get him back to sleep.

“What are you doing up?” he asked gingerly, stretching slightly before he rubbed his eyes and turned to his side.

“I just came to check on you,” she muttered lowly. He smiled at her, but his eyes were still closed from sleep.

“I should have come to check on you,” he replied, finally opening his eyes as he laid himself back down on his side. He must have not remembered what he said to her barely a minute ago because he was acting like nothing had happened. He reached out to take her hand and softly pulled her over to the bed so she could sit next to him. He played tenderly with her fingers as his eyes closed again. 

“How are you feeling?” he asked, bringing her hand to his neck and guided her to run her hand over it and weave her fingers into his hair which she soon did willingly.

“I’m fine, but will you do me a favor?” she asked.

“Anything; just ask and it’s yours,” he replied.

“Will you sit up and close your eyes for me?” she asked. Without a reply, Jimin followed her request and moved her so he could sit up, pushing he covers entirely off himself and kept his eyes shut. She swallowed harshly—at least if she was going to leave, she wanted to leave him with a good memory.

Jimin’s heart was pounding in his throat when her soft hands cupped his face. He felt like he was going to choke feeling the outside of her thigh graze the inside of his knee as she took a step closer to him.

She watched as he took his bottom lip into his mouth to run his tongue over it, his eyes remaining closed as promised as her eyes scanned his face. That plump bottom lip fell from the clutches of his teeth and returned to its parted resting position. Jimin’s strong hands clinched the bed sheets in anticipation—he assumed a nervous first kiss was about to be had and he was right.

Yejin leaned in and took his bottom lip between hers, her hands still softly caressing his face. Jimin’s eyes wanted to shoot open, but they would only fall closed again, so they remained closed even as his brow drew together. Yejin’s eyes had been closed since she began leaning in. Jimin let go a sigh into her lips, feeling slightly freed as his hands finally moved from the bed sheets to clutch the fabric of her shirt. 

She finally pulled away with a soft suctioning noise and dropped her hands, but Jimin still held on to her shirt.

“It feels so right,” he whispered to her almost inaudibly, his eyes remaining closed as he leaned back in to brush his lips against hers once more. For some reason, to him, her kiss felt desperate. It didn’t feel needy; it just felt like something was wrong. It worried him, honestly.  

His eyes remained closed as her soft thumb traced the lower of his parted lips until he spoke, “You kissed me,” he said, finally letting the reality of the situation sink in as he took her hand away from his face.

“I did,” she replied, “and you kissed me back.”

“I did,” he told her, nodding his head as his eyes finally opened to look at her. “How could I not?” he asked, his face tinging with blush. She wouldn’t be able to see it, but he could feel the warmth growing on his face.

“Will you do me a favor now?” he asked her.

“Just ask and it’s yours,” she quoted almost voicelessly.

“Come here,” he said, taking a gentle hold of her wrist as he tugged her with him. She lifted her leg to get up on the bed with him. “You don’t have to stay long, I just don’t want you to walk away yet,” he whispered to her, helping her get situated as he moved over to make room for her. Poor Jimin had no idea just how real the waking away part would get.

Yejin bit her tongue on the inside of as she laid her head down on his warm bare chest, right where he had guided her. She could hear his heart slow down a little bit and become even but it picked up again when he placed her hand on his chest as well, up closer to his collarbone. He wrapped an arm softly around her, cradling her head tenderly.

“This doesn’t hurt, does it?” he asked quietly. She shook her head in reply as she cuddled closer to him, soaking up his warm as he gathered her up to bring her as close to him as space would allow. Once she was finally situated he took her chin, lifting it with his index and middle finger as his eyes found hers in the dark, adjusting enough to see them in such close proximity. Permission was granted as soon as her eyes closed once more and he leaned down to gather her lips for a second time. The butterflies felt like they were going to burst out of his stomach, his heart racing once more as her warm lips caressed his. His free hand gripped the shoulder of her shirt, pulling it away from her skin.

It pained her even more to leave him now—maybe this was all a terrible idea; coming in here to say her last goodbyes. She couldn’t say she regretted it. There was nothing more she wanted than to either tell him how she felt about him, or to kiss him. She was hoping they would go exactly in that order, but the events played out on their own. She couldn’t deny his previous words, about it feeling absolutely right. She could not imagine, out of all of the people that she knew, kissing literally anybody else except him. He had to be the one, and he was.

He finally pulled away, gathering some air for his lungs, letting her breathe as well. Jimin tucked Yejin’s hair behind her ear as he looked over her face; he could tell she was exhausted but he was glad that she was selfless enough to stay with him, even if just for a little bit.

“Are you tired?” he asked once she was comfortable on his chest, his hand cupping her head gently.

“I might not be if you weren’t so warm,” she whispered back to him. This was the best possible place she could have ever imagined being, and she never wanted to be anywhere else. They laid there in silence as he played with her hair for a little, resting his eyes as well as she soaked up his warmth, sharing it back with him.

Jimin covered a yawn with his free hand, stirring her as his chest rose. She moved her head slightly to tuck it under his chin and he grinned, eyes closed, with a deep inhale.

“Why don’t you go get some more sleep,” he said, but the statement made her uneasy again. She tried her best to swallow the knot that had formed in , but it was fruitless; she could barely even muster a reply as she rolled out of bed, but not without one last short stolen kiss from Jimin.

“Goodnight Jimin, sweet dreams,” she whispered to him, covering him back up with the covers. His eyes fluttered sleepily, but that wouldn’t stop the next words that came out.

“Goodnight, Yejin. I’ll see you in the morning,” he replied to her. He wouldn’t see her in the morning; in fact, he wouldn’t see her any time soon and that made her stomach want to flip and fall out her . Jimin fell back into sleep quickly, the tired boy having quite enough from the previous day.

She lost it outside his door. The tears silently streamed down her face until she was met by Mrs. Park, her eyes saddened as well. She knew and Yejin knew that she knew as the elder woman began ushering the young girl down the stairs. All of her things were already by the door, having been moved there by Jimin’s mother.

“I know those tears are for how much he’ll hurt, but I promise you he’ll be okay,” Mrs. Park commented to her, only for her to nod; it was all she had left before she would sob hysterically. “Find yourself—do what you need to do. Jimin will forgive you,” she said encouragingly, motioning the young girl out the door with her things. The door had just closed before Mrs. Park turned around to see a sleepy Jimin, dazed and confused, at the top of the stairs.

“What’s going on?” he asked, stepping slowly down the stairs. He didn’t even need to ask—he knew. He knew and he hated it. He knew and his heart hurt. He knew and he wanted to yell and scream and go after her and beg her not to leave. His mother had always told him there would come a time where Yejin would leave—that she would go out to find herself—and that she couldn’t tell him when but he knew it was that time.

“Honey, Yejin has to leave; it’s what’s best for her,” Mrs. Park tried to reason, watching the sadness, and what she would recognize as rage, build in Jimin’s eyes the closer he got to the bottom of the stairs.  

“No,” Jimin shook his head, his heart stinging with pain and heavy with regret. He should have kept her in there like he was going to; he should have asked her to stay with him. “No!” he yelled and booked it for the door, calling her name. Jimin was stopped barely out of reach of the handle by his father and younger brother as he became a hysterical mess.

Jimin pushed against the floor with his bare feet as he reached, stretching as far as he could for his fingertips to barely graze the nickel handle as he tried to push his younger brother off him who just yelled back in response and pushed hard against his brother’s chest.  His father had him by the waist, pulling him back away from the door and Mrs. Park just stood there, horrified by her son’s well of emotions.

“Jimin, calm down!” his father tried to yell of the sound of Jimin’s frenetic sobbing. But he wouldn’t stop pushing as hard as he could. Even if it was hard to breathe, even if his body was reaching its limits, even if there was no way Jimin was going to make it to that door, he had to try.

“Don’t you leave me, dammit! Don’t you leave me!” he cried, struggling as hard as he could for the handle of the door. Yejin could hear him outside as she stood just off the doorstep. His desperate cries panged her heart; but she had to do this for her. With all the might she had, she picked up her bag and stepped away from the Park household as Jimin collapsed into his father’s arms.

“No! No…” he whined, burying his face against his father to try and hide his pain from the world. His heart felt like it was going to explode inside his chest as his knees buckled, causing him to droop in the arms of his father.

Mr. Park lowered Jimin to the floor, unable to hold the frantic boy up anymore as he sobbed, the tears streaking his once immaculate face. He brought his hands up to cover it, muffling his cries only slightly before Mrs. Park was the only one left to look after him. She helped him to his feet and took him over to the couch where he laid his head on her lap the way he did when he was young and having a tantrum.

She hushed him, pushing his black hair away from his forehead as she calmed him. Soon all the stress collapsed on him, and he didn’t have any other choice but to fall asleep, a throw blanket being left on top of him with the departure of his mother. Jimin would sleep for at least the next twenty-four hours.