XIX

Everything happened too fast, in Jimin’s opinion.

One minute, he and Yoongi were getting out of the car, own bags in each hand and walking to a grand double door of the house. Two maids greeted them on the entrance, smiles warm and friendly as they welcome them both inside; their bags on the hands of the maids as they stalk off and up to a grand staircase on the far right. Then, he found himself roaming his eyes around the place as they walk further inside, admiring the elegancy of everything.

The inside of the house – mansion – was a mixed of modern and Victorian style. And it’s nothing but elegant.

Jimin tries his very best not to stay away from Yoongi to avoid getting tempted of touching anything because everything inside looks very expensive – there are house plants in large expensive looking vases and a large chandelier hung in the middle of the high ceiling – practically gluing himself on the older boy’s back as they walk. Yoongi seems to feel his slight distress and blindly reaches for his right hand before threading their fingers, palms flat and warm against Jimin’s colder ones from utter nervousness.

“I told you to wear gloves, Jimin. Your hand is so cold.” He heard Yoongi says, dragging him further in the mansion. “I can practically hear your heartbeats. Are you nervous?”

Jimin snapped his head up Yoongi so fast he thinks he’d get a whiplash but that doesn’t stop him from shooting a glare. He hopes it’s intimidating enough to have Yoongi shut up about it but the smirk that crossed the boy’s lips said otherwise. Why does he have to have such unintimidating face? This is crazy.

“There’s nothing to be nervous, sunshine,” Yoongi says, this time, in a rather quiet tone, halting in his steps to turn to Jimin completely. The younger tries his best not to blush over the gentle look the older boy’s giving him, chastising himself mentally about not the right time to feel giddy of the action. “You’ll be okay. Trust me.”

Jimin stares at Yoongi’s eyes; searching for something he doesn’t even know himself what. The small smile that grazes Yoongi’s lips in time with a light squeeze against his hand was enough to slightly calm his nerves. It’s obvious that Yoongi’s trying the best he could to give Jimin the assurance that they’ll be fine – he’ll be fine – and it’s unfair to not trust Yoongi at that. It doesn’t feel right not to trust Yoongi.

They entered another room, this time much smaller than the entrance hall but no less beautiful; seems like it’s the living room part of the mansion if the huge gray set of couches, glass center table, fireplace on one of the corners, and giant flat screen television set-up on the middle of one of the wallpapered walls were anything to go by. This room is much more welcoming and cozy, and Jimin feels himself relaxing a little bit more as the warmth of the room sips in his skin. The walls were littered with tiny lavender colored butterflies and it’s really pleasing to the eyes. It’s inviting.

Yoongi pulled them in the middle of the room. And before he can even have a chance to open his mouth and leave his comment about their beautiful, beautiful mansion and praise whoever designs the interior, a sound of heeled shoes meeting the not carpeted part of the floor catches their attention.

Jimin look up and is met with a beautiful woman standing on the doorway. She’s wearing a simple cream colored dress that falls softly just below her knees. Her brown, soft curled hair falls just above her narrow shoulders. Her pale, almost snow white hands clasped together in an excited manner in front of her as she smiles brightly to the two of them. Her thin lips were a resemblance of Yoongi’s. Now, Jimin knows where Yoongi got his. He guesses the woman might be in her early 40’s. But you can really tell, even from a distance, that she’s a beauty in her younger age.

“Okay. Be ready,” whispers Yoongi.

Jimin looks at the older boy before looking back at the woman.

Huh?

“Mother,” Yoongi says from beside him.

The woman seems to acknowledge the call and smiles at the boy, “Hi there, son,” was her casual greetings before walking over to the two boys that are still looking at her like some ghost that just popped out of nowhere. Well, she’s a woman who likes surprises and catching people off guard so here she is. Her son should be used to this manner though, just to be honest.

Yoongi’s mother stops in front of Jimin, smile widening a little bit more Jimin thinks she might split her beautiful face. But it’s no doubt that the smile gave him some sort of permission and assurance that there’s no reason to be too stiff around everything and allow himself to relax; shoulders sagging as he attempts to give his own smile back at the woman. She doesn’t seem like the rich evil mothers he’d seen in too many dramas and he hopes she’s not really a terror.

“Ahm, hi, Mrs. Min,” he greets softly, voice hesitant and a bit too careful.

Mrs. Min looks amused and she smiles even brightly, hands clapping like a… child. Okay…? Jimin’s kind of confused here.

“Hello. You’re Jimin, right?” Jimin nods slowly. He swears Mrs. Min’s eyes sparkles like of a child’s receiving a deserved cookie after guaranteeing her she’s right. “Oh my God, Yoongi, he’s so cute! Look how warm he looks like in that large scarf,” she almost… squeals. The obvious excitement radiating off the woman was too contagious he feels like it’s starting to rub on him as he smiles shyly to himself. Jimin heard Yoongi says something along the lines of stop being so embarrassing, mother and please don’t scare him while Jimin was there, standing like a statue with burning cheeks at the flying praises for him.

The woman settles on sending her son a glare that effectively shuts up Yoongi immediately and amazes Jimin to the nth level before the woman settles her whole attention back to the human. The sweet smile was there again, sitting prettily against her thin pinkish lips and showing a small dimple on her left cheek. “Well, I don’t mind you calling me Mrs. Min but it would be better if you could address me mother.” There’s a small pout that settles on the woman’s face. But just as fast as it appears, the fast it disappears, too, that Jimin wondered if it was only a trick of the light.

He feels his whole face on fire and he started to pick on the sleeve of his sweater. He was flustered to the words, as simple as that.

Yoongi seems to read the atmosphere and step up for the younger boy, wrapping his fingers on Jimin’s right wrist and looking at his mother who just smiles at him teasingly. His mother, to say the least, is very mischievous for a lady like her. But that what makes up for his father’s strict and serious vibes. So he’s not complaining.

“Mother, will you please let us rest first? We drove for four hours and we’re tired. Can you please excuse us?”

“Well,” the woman starts, expression changing into one of motherly (Yoongi finally sighs in relief inwardly) and cross her arms over her