“Hey get up, we have to get to the hospital.”

The blank look that the brunette sends Park Jimin irritates him, however he pushes the urge to punch him in the face down and forces himself to remember the boring scolding he got from the eldest of his unit for punching him the last time he was fuming.

Seokjin had a knack for being the mother of their unit.

Instead, he frustratedly runs his fingers through his recently dyed orange hair before reiterating his demand even more impatiently this time.

“Why?” Kim Taehyung responds, the rectangular grin on his face exposing his intentions of teasing the older male. Before the older can respond, he’s up and twirling the car keys around his index finger, “You’ll never get a woman looking like an old man Jiminie.. oh! By the way, the orange looks great on you~”

The sly grin on his face causes Jimin’s face to heat up in anger, his teeth grinding as he stomps after his partner. Sliding into the passenger’s seat, he ignores the teasing upturn of his friend’s mouth.

“So why are we going to the hospital?”

Jimin shoots him a look, mouth just slightly twitching in irritation, before softening with an exasperated sigh, “Some doctor called about that case we couldn’t find any leads on, the victim recovered apparently…”

“But what?”

“Says the person lost all their memories.”

Jimin had a problem. He wasn’t afraid of girls, hell no. God he’d be a big wuss if he were afraid of the female population.

He just couldn’t stand them.

So when he finds out the victim was a woman, he’s instantly pushing Taehyung to talk to her when they see you at the front desk.

“Come on Tae, let’s just get this over with!” he insists, fighting against his resisting partner, “Stop ting around and go approach her.”

However his mischievous partner has the table turning and finds himself shoved towards you instead. A sly smirk curling at his lips as he swiftly ducks under the older’s grip.

“Why don’t you go approach her yourself, you were the eager one who wanted to go to the hospital so badly, you do it,” he pauses as he grabs Jimin’s hand on his shoulder, “And you’re a detective Jiminie, at some point in your life you’re going to have to find yourself an actual living woman rather than the corpses we send to forensics, unless you really want to die as an old spinster.”

Stumbling over his feet, Jimin shoots him a glare before reluctantly giving in.

“Says the jerk who can’t get himself a girlfriend either,” he mocks scornfully(ignoring the offhanded ‘because I’m not a man of commitment’ comment), displeasure running through his system up until it comes to a screeching halt when his throat runs dry and his shoes begin to drag against the floor. There’s a soft nudge on the small of his back, pushing him further towards the two women. Inhaling sharply, he shakes his head vigorously before continuing to trudge towards the front desk.

When he comes to halt a little behind you, he can’t help the wary shuffling of his feet and the wringing of his clammy hands. Discomfort pits in his stomach, and his voice catches in his throat.

“You have to cut me some slack,” you say to the receptionist, gauze wrapped round your head, “I’m unable to pay for this, I have no idea who I am and what world I’m about to step into outside those doors, I have nothing…”

The receptionist shakes her head with a frown, “I’m sorry Miss there’s nothing we can do about it, you can pay in increments but until then you-”

“I’ll p