warning: implied physical abuse / alcoholism / suicide

"Don't judge a man until you've walked two moons in his moccasins."

- Phoebe Winterbottom, Walk Two Moons.

      It all began with hunger. Raving, raw hunger that lurched inside his stomach and clawed at his shriveling intestines. Burning, churning and swirling with an immediate need for food, Park Jimin did the most common thing any person would do: eat. So on a fine afternoon where the weather is pleasant, the sun shines blissfully and the dry air keeps him warm the young man decided to stop by a local breakfast restaurant across the street. Guess one of the perks for staying at the dorm are the restaurants residing in close proximity. 

Intense training can be difficult and there's no doubt about it, but the rewarding sensation of accomplishing something weighs higher compared to minor things such as aching muscles and sore feet. Still, preparing for another comeback can be damn right exhausting, if not lethal when exerted, though he should probably thank Namjoon for keeping all of them in check.

Today happened to be one of those lazy days. A day where dieting and training and dancing and singing and prepping voices aren't required. A day where he could finally take some time off to finally see the world outside of those confined walls of the studio. As of current their recent debut is taking off much faster than Jimin had anticipated. Not that he minds, oh no, never! It's just... astounding how drastically his life had changed.

When Jimin entered the restaurant the whiff of fresh baked batter filtered his nose. A scent of waffles, pancakes, hot cinnamon and strong aroma of dark brazillian coffee. The Pancake House was a Western inspired spinoff of a... Waffle House? Or something like that. Something along the lines of American-styled food. Now don't get it twisted, okay? It is not that he doesn't like trying new things but when it comes to breakfast he generally prefers the standard. Rice and beef.

But! There are times when he craves a new taste. A new flavor. And oddly enough, pancakes came to mind when visiting this place. Without further ado Jimin stopped at the front of the host stand and taking time to observe his surroundings. As if things couldn't get Americanized enough, inside the interior of the restaurant reminded him of those classic dubbed American films from the late 60s. Retro and antiqued with vintage items from overseas, the booths brightened with crimson colors and teal blues and some streaks of white. Tabletops with standard metal inscribed with names quite foreign with the exception of a few.

"Hello! Welcome to the Pancake House!" He was greeted by a petite woman donned in a red and white streaked waitress outfit and cap. White cotton frills were laced at the end of the knee-high skirt and shoulders. Black hair, bright dark eyes and smile reasonably standard for the waitress, "My name is Irene, and oh my! Somebody should call the cops because it is illegal to look at that good!" Irene finishes with a light giggle, and Jimin had to restrain himself from rolling his eyes. 

He never understood what people saw in him. Couldn't comprehend the aspect of looking attractive, and if he did, it was probably due to makeup and extreme dieting. Not that he totally minded it; in fact, Jimin finally embranced the idea of appearing decent within the eyes of others. "Ah, thank you. Can I sit next to a booth, please?" He didn't really have much planned for the day. Perhaps scroll through social media and and laze around until he's absolutely bored and returns back to the dorm. 

Irene sat him down at one of the unpreoccupied booths near a window. She said that his waitress will be with him momentarily, so in the meantime Jimin decided to browse through the menu in hopes to find something appetizing.

Foreign foods never really appealed to him. You know? Burgers, pizza, hotdogs and the like. He will take a good creamy milkshake any day, though. By the time his waitress had arrived Jimin figured out his meal plan. "Hello! Welcome to the Pancake House." This time it was a tall and figurative sized woman who was glamorous and precious and a goddess who traveled down from the heavens above. The young woman tosses black silk of hair over her shoulder and smiled, "My name is Soojin and I am going to be your server this afternoon. What are you interested in for today?" So Jimin told her what he preferred: a red velvet pancake and eggs with decaffeinated hazelnut coffee. 

Soojin written down his order and even told him that the coffee will be specially made "just for him." End quote. And that's fine, he supposed. Nothing wrong with having a nicely made coffee every now and then. However, Soojin began to talk to him, and by talk Jimin means flirt. "So, I haven't seen someone like you around here before. Are you from here?" He's not stupid. He can tell where this is going already.

"Ah... yeah, I do." He is polite. He is kind. He is many things that are deemed pleasant. "I am becoming a future idol-" a sharp gasp escaped from Soojin's lips and she almost squealed. "Oh my gosh! Really?! That's so amazing!" In response Jimin laughs, waving away her statement with a smile. "Thank you, but I only debuted for now. I am not sure if we'll survive the remainder of the year."

"Oh, nonsense! With someone as attractive as you? You'll get fans in no time." Ah, that's right. Attraction. Physical beauty. Looks. It's the only concept that would draw fans towards his craft. Before Jimin could open his mouth a loud growl erupted from his stomach. Both of them paused as the sound sounded much louder than intended. "Oh, my bad! Let me get your coffee." Soojin abandons his presence by rushing into the kitchen and finally giving Jimin a sense of peace.

While waiting Jimin settled with looking out the window. As cliche as it was staring outside gave him a sense of calmness. Watching people and cars go by, birds chirping mindlessly and simply observing life passes by. It gives him a lot to dwell over and figure out. A lot to admire of its simplicity.

Our first debut. The concept is still hard to process after all the years training and preparing for this very moment. Now that it is in his grasp, in his hold, ready to be attained for his future Jimin is more than ready to sacrifice everything. 

Until he gotten a glimpse of her.

Park Jimin is many things.

For starters he is an artist. An artist who visualize artwork in many platforms without restriction. An artist who finds singing, dancing, writing, drawing, modeling, makeup, reading, and even cooking as an intricate art piece. Art is fluid and passionate, a symbol with many and little meanings all wrapped up in this intricate creation of enigmas. Art comes in the form of anything really, and sometimes even the most basic aspects of life can be interesting. Secondly, he is an incredibly curious person who finds interest in the mosot simple things in life. Curiosity can go far and narrow, tall and short with an unlimited cap where he wants to know more about it. And finally, sad to admit, he happens to be a hopeless romantic.

Yes, it's true.

He is a cliched secret admirer. The one who finds roses a symbol of love as sweet nothings fills his heart with joy. Yes, the hugs and kisses and love and everything that's gentle and sweet he finds delight in because... well, why not? There is nothing to be shameful about the admiration of someone. Though, it is only possible to receive such femininistic traits from his late mother.

The thought of her had faded from his mind for so long that Jimin rarely acknowledges anyone from his past.

It's nothing more than a melancholy memory ending in bittersweetness, so he prefers not to think of it. Yet, all it takes is one glance at the woman to spiral down in a deep hole Jimin had so desperately cllimbed out of. A glance that brought about post images and tantalizing emotions...- one particular emotion he buried for many years now. 

She was a simple woman.

A simple woman with dark brown hair tossed up into a single bun. There were some strands flayed across her face, a face seemingly heart shaped and filled with pale cheeks and thin lips. She was talking to someone, a guest, completely unaware of the world around her and the lingering gaze of his curious eyes.

Majority of the times Jimin would see people change. By change he meant having cosmetic surgeries to altercate the features to one's face. Double eyelid surgery, facial structure, lip expansion, chin reduction, nose altercation... he has seen it all. There's no brainer that being in this industry one must change their features to appeal to the masses of people. Even when not an ambitious idol being pressured into having surgeries is one of the most common things in Korean society. And yes, there is a rise in makeup artists and beauty procedures and encouragement from society to constantly look attractive. By constant he refers to daily.

Oh, Jimin understands. He understands the constant pressure to remain attractive. He understands the stress constant beauty can take form of and manipulate it into this tormented figure of insecurity. He understands how it feels being burdened to remain the best. A person wearing different masks to appeal to the thousands of people watching his every movement and critizing it.

People aren't simple. Rather, people demand extravagance. They demand the best and expect the absolute best and anything sort of that is considered a total failure. So, it is indeed strange to him when he sees a simple woman. A woman with epicanthic folds, an appropiate term to use when describing slanted eyes. By the looks she never altered them into the standed monolids he would generally see. Some are natural, yes, though most are not. And he cannot blame anyone, truly.

They were black. Black irises filled with many things and nothing.

It reminded him of his mother.

A simple woman whose outlook on life wasn't extravagent. She never needed to fullfil a role for society. She never needed to be the best among the best of people for all her decisions were based on his needs.

Jimin's heart clenched painfully.

He shouldn't think about it. He shouldn't think about her, and yet here he is looking at a woman that reminded him so much of the only person he has ever genuinely loved.

The woman was also left handed, Jimin noted. She seemed focused, entranced by her work and ensured quality of the guest's experience. He then watches as the woman leave into the kitchen, his eyes following her until she disappeared. About a second later Soojin reappeared, "So sorry about the delay!" She exclaims while setting down this incredibly milky looking drink. "I thought to include some other stuff in it which tastes really good." The young woman finishes with a smile and told him that his order would arrive another ten minutes. Although Jimin doesn't mind, he does in fact minds his coffee...

Though, like a pleasant person he kept silent. A smile and a simple laugh later Jimin waves mindlessly at the woman. "It's fine," He says when in actuality he's not fine about it.

"You can go now. Thank you."

"No problem!" In this flurry rush Soojin leaves him and Jimin then eyes the mug with uttermost skeptism. He never liked things too overdone and dressed up. He takes a sip and grimances almost immediately. 

It's way too sweet. Way too sugary and filled with an unbalanced amount of cream and sugar and cinnamon. Ick.

But he is a pleasant person. A person who won't complain, won't frown and do anything described as unpleasant in the eyes of others so he abandons the coffee. While doing so the girl with dark eyes returns again and Jimin sees her delivering food to the guest. Despite the woman paying no attention to him Jimin happened to analyze the ample form of her body. In the current world infested with dieting, starvation, weight loss surgeries and the like this woman wasn't anywhere near thin. No, she wasn't the common woman in the establishment that held a dainty figure or petite sizes. Instead this woman had a bit of element of weight that is described as a pear...- she was not that overweight, mind you, though neither a size he expected to see.

Throughout the years of training Jimin learned the art of looks. Perhaps it's a twisted way to paint his body beautiful with starvation and constant exercise. He remember those days when his face was round and puffy, his body flabby and anything other than attractive. Primarily as a man, a young man whose fanbase is increasing along with their high standards can be absolutely devestating at times. There were moments in his life that Jimin contemplated over. Many things that are not comfortable to openly discuss without scrutizing his mental state.

His is fine. He has remain content ever since he joined the company.

Her eyes meet his.

They were empty. They were devoid of life. They held no substance. Two sockets worth nothing. No spark, no happiness, no content, no satisfaction, no anger, no sadness, no frustration, no anything. Just nothing.

Something about this scares Jimin. It terrifies him beyond recognition because it brings him back to that day. The day where he wished his mother never went to work.

He quickly looks away. His heart beating in his chest as he quickly snatches the coffee and brings it towards his lips.

     Growing up Park Jimin was an imaginative child. A child with a quart of hope, a cup of happiness, a pinch of hyperactive and a sprinkle of giggles. He had a mother trying to keep up with him but there's no match to a ball of sunshine which was himself.

He had a mother and father.

There's not much to describe. If there was then Jimin would remember it clear as day and yet he doesn't. Or maybe he refuses to for various of reasons prescribed and unknown. For the most part his father was an alcoholic, a riveting drunkard that depended on the liquid far too much for his own good. Every dollar earned was quickly spent on packs of beers, lounging around the couch and murmuring dribbled nonsense no one could truly comprehend.

Mother on the otherhand was pleasant. She was a loving and gentle mother, a woman with dignity and enjoyed taking care of her little family. She made sure Jimin was fed, was cared for and delighted in his infectious hugs. She received them with little caution and her eyes were bright as the moon. Mysterious, maternal, calm... the opposite of his awfully wide brown eyes firing like the sun.

She read to him every night. Little children stories she would find at a local bookstore that would meet his adventurous needs and gives him the wildest of dreams.

Oh, how she loved him, and how he loved her.

Eventually things gotten complicated.

Mother worked and worked, supplying what she could for little pay. The pay salvaged little things like food and perhaps a bit of comfort. She was a dligent woman who had standards of quality and achieving greatness, but sadly, it was only a matter of time before his father demanded money from mother, too.

A lack in comfort. An increase in violence.

It's not something Jimin likes to remember. There are times he does remember situations quite clearly. There are times during the night hours he cried until dawn over triggering concepts like familiar appearances, a brown glassed bottle of beer and sometimes gazes. 

It strange. Strange to feel content until suddenly he feels numb. Numb to something and then everything feels unpleasant. So, all it took was the gaze of her eyes to quickly remind him of his deceased mother. How gradually life became desolate for them both. When his mother gradually ceased to return the hugs and kisses he frequently gave until one day mother dropped him off at grandma's for another day's work... just to then disappear.

"Disappeared", grandma preferred to say it. For a while he didn't understand anything. He couldn't fathom the reasons why mother disappeared and made up lucrative ideas for her disappearance. Perhaps it is to justify her absence. The growing void in his soul that ached for her. It was only years later did he finally matured and grasped what grandma meant which was much worse compared to before. 

At times Jimin wondered what life would be like had he remained blind. Ignorant to truth, mind filled with ideas that she may be out there in the world still existing. Still living. Then again, it would have been a matter of time before the truth came out.

The last time he saw his mother she looked empty. Lacking. Bleak and bland and anything but content. Eyes empty. Life completely gone from those sockets as her hugs felt robotic and stiff.

And then she died.

Died. Dead. Deceased.

Jimin clenched his eyes shut. It was around six o'clock in the evening as he lounged in dorm carefully recollecting his thoughts. He wanted to be alone for the time being trying to piece together the fragmented pieces of his childhood memories and the others understood. While he lost a lot in his life, Jimin also gained. He gained new friendships along the way and he's forever grateful; however, there is no one in this world who affected him as much as his mother did. There is not a single person who loved him deeply and who treasured him far more than anyone else and sacrificed so much for his wellbeing.

Which now brings him to a current dilemma.

He didn't mean to dwell on the matter nor on her, really. Neither was it his intention to contemplate on those eyes and how the young woman reminded him so much of his mother's dehabilitating state before she finally kicked the bucket. This somehow in someway instills terror inside of him. Perhaps it's his imaginative brain running over with worrisome ideas, Jimin isn't sure, but he knows damn well there is something about her that he cannot disregard.

He can't ignore it. He just can't.

     Park Jimin became a regular at the Pancake House.

He never expected this to happen but it did and he finds delight in it. He doesn't go every week and can be a little sporadic in terms of visiting. After all, the intense photoshoots sessions and dance practices and voiceovers can be exhausting. Still, there are times throughout the the week where Jimin would spend his days sitting at a booth observing the woman while nursing on his overly creamed coffee. 

He never bothered to learn her name. Most of the times he is greeted by the other waitresses whose names he had already forgotten about. Sometimes he will bring his teammates and other times he'll come by himself, so it didn't matter.

Is it strange? Perhaps so. Perhaps it's beyond normal to watch a person from a distance. Still, Jimin continues to observe her and watch how she interacts with others. The most notable thing is this invisible line drawn between her and the other servers. While the other waitresses fawned and gushed and gossiped about him and his teammates (yes he knows. He's not dumb), the girls never bother to affiliate themselves with her. As if she was icky. A plague needed to be avoided at all costs.

That's a problem.

"Ugh, look at her. Don't even know why she bothers staying here." Jimin happens to overhear their conversation one afternoon. He was reading a book when he heard the snicker between the two girls. He glances over while taking a tiny sip from his lukewarmed coffee, trying to remain uninterested as possible.

"Ugly cretin. Couldn't even get someone if she tried. Bet she got five cats and lives alone."

"Awe, Haeun! I like cats. You don't have to be mean to the kitties..."

Something about this makes Jimin angry. Very angry. Instead of lashing out and yelling like he typically preferred, he was now under watch for any controversial actions. So the most appropiate way to address this anger is by clearing his throat.

This captures the girls attention. "Excuse me, but I don't really appreciate you talking about that girl like that. It's wrong and unfair and not ethical in a work environment." He could see the shock filtering their facial expressions and could literally give two s about their opinions of him. "O-oh, um, sorry..." The girl with faux blond hair, Haeun if Jimin recalls correctly, stuttered. He eyed them both and watched as they squirmed and wiggled before scurrying elsewhere. 

Typical.

God, he couldn't stand artificial people. They reeked everywhere with these unrealistically high expectations and looked down upon those who couldn't meet them. So disgustingly arrogant that it's completely pitiful. Jimin grumbles to himself and resettles reading his book, though his mind was far distracted with the situation moments ago.

So it's apparent that the woman is a black sheep. An outsider amongst the crowd of people and they dislike her for it. Looking down on her for it...

Jimin's fingers pressed down hard near the edge of his book. He found himself burning a hole into a page with his narrowed eyes, trying to soothe such calamity from within. I hate it. I hate it so much. Auditioning for his role was hard...- incredibly ing hard that there were times he nearly gave up everything. There weren't many people supportive of his choices and those in school shamed him for it. Told him he was worth less than a cent, wasn't going to make anything worth of his life and that there's no possible way he'll ever be deemed worthy in the eyes of others.

But god damn it, he worked hard to reach to this point. He wasn't spoon fed money, let alone had any money to support himself when auditioning. He didn't receive his mother's workaholic traits for nothing! And yet people still judged him. Told him how ugly he was and dirt poor. Told him he would never make a life for himself and will always be some wandering lost cause.

This make Jimin even more invested in knowing the woman. As if giving the middle finger to those ignorant little girls who obviously no nothing about life and haven't bothered to mature past high school. So, he made it his agenda to learn about that woman.

Question is... how?

     He started having dreams.

They were simple dreams. Dreams Jimin didn't think much of to be honest. Dreams that consisted of weird things forgotten from his childhood. Whenever he awakes the dreams fades, yet the emotions of it still remains.

Emptiness. Loneliness. Hopelessness.

He'll never admit it. There is no need to confess these emotions since he has friends and the people around him to confide with, but it's not the same.

It's not the same compared to a tight hug. It's never the same when looking into the eyes of another with love and admiration and wholesomeness. Maybe that is why he's very touchy and prefers close physical contact. Is this the reason why he enjoys hugs and holding hands and cuddles? Maybe, just maybe.

His hyungs sometimes gives him these things. It's not often but Jimin appreciates the returned gesture. They give him just enough to feel complete for the day, and then there are times he feels something that his friends cannot give him and that is having a mother figure. He doesn't have one... and now thinking about it, he hasn't been in contact with his father in over ten years.

He will still call his grandma from time to time. She's still doing alright for the most part and that's perfectly fine by him. She was never really a good substitute for a mother, though grandma tried to provide him a decent life as much as she could.

The dreams eventually shift from particles of his memories to her. That girl again. The girl with intricate black eyes filled with enigmas and messy brown hair pulled into a bun. A bun that he low key wishes to see untied. Not that he'll ever admit that.

He doesn't really understands it nor does he want to. She was something of an enigma, an empty vessel begging to be filled with life again. A person who allowed the void of nothing swallow her fully. Presumably by the stressers of life, of living this automated world by its means rather than rebelling against it.

It's not her fault. It's no one's fault besides the system created from centuries of stigmas. Oh, how he absolutely hates it. 

He has been having dreams as of late. Dreams of filling those same bleak eyes with life. With a purpose. Maybe inside he feels like it is his responsibility to rescue her. To save her from despair inflicted by this cruel world. Perhaps in some way this will justify himself for his mother's untimely death. Will saving her somehow save himself? Jimin wouldn't know.

The dreams linger much longer than Jimin prefers it. It makes him feel things that he hasn't felt in a long time.

Yearning. Need. Affection.

This scares him. Never before has he looked at someone with high interest, and wih the way he's describing things sounds absolutely creepy. He is in no way a disturbed individual. No, he is very much the opposite. 

Jimin dated a few people in high school with the count on his fingers. Two or three tops and they all ended in heartbreak. After joining Big Hit Entertainment he focused on training and his studies full time with little to explore outside of it. So, it doesn't make much sense to find an average girl suddenly interesting. 

Or maybe because she is average that it is interesting?

In those dreams Jimin lingers in her gaze. He holds her in his grasp, and this time it feels so welcoming and nostalgic. He keeps her safe from harm and somehow this makes him feel secure. He holds her tightly, breathing in her scent of coffee. For odd reasons hazelnut coffee suits her the most as he eagerly breathes it in. Maybe because it makes the fantasy much better. He is not certain.

She's holding him, too. 

She's telling him it's okay and that things will get better. She's whispering to him how much she likes him too. That it's perfectly fine to be vulnerable and safe and cherished and loved. It's okay to crumble those guarded walls and allow someone in his life.

For Park Jimin it feels like he's falling in love all over again. Only this time much more differently.

     For the first time Park Jimin officially meets Byun Sora.

It's been a little over a month of silent observation. He never really garnered the courage to introduce himself to her or bothered to talk to her. And Jimin was perfectly fine with that. He was okay with the concept of never meeting her and hiding in the distance. He was okay stealing glances at the young woman and sometimes meeting her curious gazes which he gladly reciprocated. It was like a game of tag with their eyes, an odd play between the two.

Their game just happened to end when he looks up from his book to find her standing in front of him.

Oh. Oh.

Okay. This wasn't how he planned for things to go. Still, he can see the hesitancy in her black charcoals for eyes and how tightly her fingers gripped at the pen. To make things easier Jimin revealed a bright smile, "Aren't you..." he pauses suddenly, oddly at a loss of words as his brain short circuited. 

How dare they.

How dare they imply she was ugly. She is anything but ugly.

Suppose they are right. She was not glistening in makeup and eyeliner nor wears any monolid tape. Her eyes are not wide, no, but it doesn't disregard the thick lashes that accomodates them. The bridge of her nose is natural and the pale skin is freckled with light moles. She held beauty in the most simplest form. 

Jimin quickly changes his thoughts. "Are you serving me today?" He asks carefully, trying to phrase his words in the most appropiate manner. "Y-yes." He hears her stutter and allows her to introduce herself.

Sora.

It is not often he hears a name like that. It is rather unique for a Korean citizen to harbor a Japanese name. He wonders if her parents held any descent of the Japanese. He then smiles, "I think this is the first time you waited on me... right?" Jimin watches when Sora her lips, an uncanny habit whenever she's nervous. "I belive that is quite right." She replies with caution.

"So..." He didn't really know what to say. What is there to say, anyways? 'Hi, my name is Jimin and I've been stalking you for the past month.' Okay, stalking might be overkill but still... Jimin settled with a sense of humor. "I hope I don't scare you away." He was trying to make things less awkwards and feasible but he's not that good with charisma. He then proceeds to tell her his order: a red velvet pancake with some eggs and hazelnut coffee. She writes it down and repeats it back to him before going straight to the kitchen. Unlike the other girls Sora is straight to the point and that is refreshing compared to the sophisticated bull often sugarcoated from people. No offense.

She brings him his coffee with a side of hazelnut creamer as Jimin doesn't made flavoring his own coffee. At the moment he was currently reading Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone. The series happened to intrigue him with lores quite fascinating to read sometimes. Furthermore, these stories would help satify his adventurous cravings from time to time after a hard day of work.

Sora happens to be attentive of him, so it seemed. Orderly, detailed and made sure he was alright. She eventually inquired about the book and Jimin then briefly explained it. Overtime, Jimin gotten up from the booth and thanked her for her service. Prior to leaving the restaurant he decided a really good look at the girl, and then he smiled.

He reaches the point of comfortability with Sora. Everything is a gradual build. A slow process that might accumulate into something... more, he hoped. Another successful attempt for their comeback a week later and the fans loved it, so what is the best way to celebrate than taking his friends out to the Pancake House? His friends obviously didn't seem to mind. They were preoccupied with girls and liked to spoil the waitresses for the most part. However, today he wanted something a little different. In fact, he wanted someone a little different serving them and Jimin knew exactly who he wanted.

When she waited on them Jimin was quite impressed with her skills. He finds her charming in her own little way if one looked close enough. The shaking of her hand, the way her eyes gazes into his before looking elsewhere...

Jimin is not oblivious. He is just as attentive to her reactions as she was of his. 

"Hi." He spoke.

"Hi." She replied.

For the most part Sora is awfully shy. Withdrawn and restrictive in his presence and anything but comfortable. At first Jimin worried it was him, though overtime he realized it was just her insecurities. Insecurity of his perception of her, and because of that he feels sad. Of course, he only pretends. Pretends and feigns ignorance to keep this subtle interaction between them alive. Jimin knows being anything other than what's defined might create a situation unfavorable between them and as if he'd ever allow that. That was, until Taehyung nearly spilled his guts and almost admitted the truth. 

"Wow, you almost look like-" my mother. Jimin never allowed Taehyung to finish the sentence for his fingers reached towards his friend's arm and pinched it, making Taehyung yelp with an considerably loud 'ow!'. Jimin smiles with ignorance, "Sorry," he apologized to the girl, "Taehyung can be a bit blunt at times." Which throughout the years living with him is the absolute truth. 

"It's okay. No hard feelings taken." She served them and they requested their orders like always. Same thing, nothing really different to be honest. She gotten their drinks, waited their table and served their food...

"You like her, don't you?" Namjoon pulled Jimin out of his entranced thoughts when Sora left to attend to another table. In response Jimin simply shrugs, unsure how to respond to his leader's question or... statement, rather. He didn't outright deny it, either. "I didn't mean to." He never intended to fall in love with a woman working at a breakfast joint. Jimin had more idealistic fantasies to meet someone...

Accidentally bumping into someone at a bookstore. An old childhood friend. Meeting the perfect one on a date. But no, none of that ever happened.

Namjoon chuckled, "I think can see why. Opposites generally attract." Well, he's not wrong.

      "What are you talking about?"

"This is actually Soojin's table and Sora stole it from her. I've been informed about the situation and I'm going to look into it. I know Soojin is your favorite, so we're going to go ahead and swap them out." Jimin gawked at the man when the information was presented to him. He happened to stop by at the Pancake House to be seated by Sora again, but instead he gets this lanky man explaining nonsense to him. He couldn't help but to feel appalled because within these last two months he knows Byun Sora is anything other than a deceptive liar.

"Good riddance! Sora was hogging to much of his time." He lowly hears a girl huff out of range. The other girls like Haeun, Seulgi, Jinae and Soojin were at all standing in the kitchen with the door open.

"You'd think that girl will eventually leave after today?"

"Doubt it. Heard something about having a sick mom or whatever. At least she won't bother them anymore."

"Stupid . Ugh, she is so annoying. I can't ing stand being around her."

"Ditto."

And then that's where Jimin sees Sora rushing out the door. Her face was flushed hot and eyes glossy with thick tears. It didn't take a blind man to see that she was crying, and to make matters worst Sora was falsely accused.

Under most cases Jimin is calm and collected. Rational and restrained when dealing with his emotions, and rarely, if ever, starts a fight. But this... this makes whatever restraint within him snap.

Before Jimin realizes it he is walking towards the kitchen. Hell, he didn't even grasp how fast his legs moved from the table until this very moment.

BANG! The noise startles almost everyone. The cooks, the girls, and even the owner. Hand pressed against the kitchen door Jimin glared at each girl until he landed on the one who started this entire mess. "You!" Park Jimin is never a violent person. Angry? Yes, he gets pretty angry sometimes and lashes out, but never ever violent, so it doesn't make any sense when he snatches Soojin by the wrist and yanks her forward. She shrieks in terror but Jimin pays it no mind, his brown eyes burning holes deep into those terrified black ones and he is glad to instill such fear. 

"What the literal is wrong with you?" His words were blunt and cruel.

"W-w-what do you-" "shut up. You're such an obvious liar that it's disgusting." He brushes her away and points at the others, "You think it's funny, huh? Mocking others because they don't live your lives?" The anger burned his chest like heartburn. Heated and hot and uncomfortable with little to soothe it.

"J-Jimin-oppa, what are you talking about?" There they go again with their fake tones and sweet gestures and ty pouts. Jimin scowls, "Are you really that stupid? Here, I'll break it down for you. You lied on Sora because you were jealous. Plain and simple. You couldn't stand someone you didn't like to interact with me because in someway makes you feel inferior. If you guys weren't such jerks then maybe I would've been interested. Don't you realize despite your artificial words that your actions tells me more about yourselves?" Ugh, just standing in front of them makes him sick to his stomach.

Jimin turns to look at the owner. "Sir, I don't want to cause trouble but you need better employees. If bullying is considered normal here then I don't want to support your establishment." He walks out without turning back, mind more focused with pressing matters.

Sora.

He sees her crying on the sidewalk. Shoulders shaking and those loud sobs torturing his ears. "Sora?" Jimin watches her stiffen and he wanted to hold her and keep her safe. "Are you-" 

"N-no." Ah, of course not. Why would he bother asking such an obvious question? He feels so stupid. "I... I know it's bull. Soojin made it up. I know." "H-how? She c-could be telling the truth..." No, there is nothing remotely truthful about it. He knows she is an honest hardworking person.

Jimin tried to comfort her the best way he could. He tried to encourage her, tried to remind Sora the characteristics she has and how endearing that they were. It was only until he admitted some part of himself that Sora finally understood.

How wonderful. I just indirectly invited a girl out.

And then she agrees. Holy , she finally agreed!

      Around two o'clock in the morning Jimin returned in a gray hoodie and sweatpants. As much as he would've imagined having the girl ditch her job to run away with him back at the dorms that didn't really happen, sadly. Sora still needed to work and she needed the money just as much as he needed her. Normally he would be asleep by now, completely unaware that Sora worked until the mornings and walking home in the darkness. As for inviting Sora over, she promised to visit the dorms sometime next week when she gets a weekend off. And that's fine, really. He can be patient... somewhat.

He was waiting outside until he sees a familiar figure walking out. 

"You shouldn't be walking home alone." He tells Sora and she shrugs.

"You get used to it."

They wanted to start off slow in terms of properly knowing each other. Everything is still relatively new and fresh and exciting, albeit nervewracking.

Regardless of the night and how dark it was Jimin noticed Sora's ever so subtle limp. Concern immediately hits him, "Are you okay? You're limping." He is greeted with another shrug, and this time it bothers him. "Sora, you are hurting." He stresses again and the girl just sighs. 

"I know. I just deal with the pain." Those were words he had not wished to hear. But he needed to because truthfully? She is hurting in more ways than one. That doesn't make her necessarily weak, nor does it make her stubborn to uphold such pain. "I'm sorry," What else can he say to make everything go away? There's very little, honestly.

"Don't be." She finally looks at him with a smile. "I'm just glad you are here with me." For the firs time her eyes spoke to him. They held something that seemed nostalgic and old, reminiscent of the days when he was young and would look into the eyes of his mother.

They eventually reached her house. A small but simple house that looked like any other.

"Sora?" Jimin was scared. Scared less because everything seems so perfect and right and he doesn't want to ever ruin it. When she looks at him Jimin can finally see the light filtering in her eyes. They weren't exactly blossoming with happiness or anything as such, but they held something and that is more than enough for him.

"C-can I hug you?" He watched as her eyes looking at him in curiosity. She didn't respond at first and he second guessed his choice until finally she gives him permission. "Yeah. You can." And as his arms carefully wrap around her frame Jimin can feel the tears brewing near the corners of his eyes and his heart is beating hard and his breath hitches and and-

Park Jimin breaks down crying.

He probably startled her. Probably already creeped her out at this point, but here he is crying and sobbing and trying to hold on to whatever dignity he had left. God, he felt embarrassed. Beyond embarrassed and moreso humiliated.

"Jimin?"

"I-I'm s-sor-ry..." He didn't mean for this to happen. It wasn't his intentions to breakdown and cry like this, but he is sobbing and Sora is holding him while he's bawling his eyes out like a huge crybaby. "It's okay." He can hear her murmur and pat on his shivering back. "It's going to be okay." She tells him and he tries to desperately believes it.

She smells good. She smells like pancake batter and coffee at the same time. Jimin squeezes her tight and buries himself in the crevise of Sora's neck. Overtime his cries grew lighter and so did his sniffles, yet Sora still held onto him.

"I'm sorry..." He mumbled.

"It's okay."

"I cried in front of you."

"That doesn't bother me."

"O-okay..." He pulls away from the girl and wiped his wet eyes with the palm of his hands. He sniffs unattractively and the girl giggles. "I-I'll.. I'll see you tomorrow?" He asks her hesitantly.

Byun Sora smiles. Bright and infectious underneath the street lamp residing behind them that Jimin himself couldn't help but to grin as well.

"I'll see you tomorrow."

And that is enough for him.

Enough for the both of them, really.