Word Count: 3,372

Chapter 7

Kimy(You) POV

For the next month it became a routine. Dawn patrol then school. Training then dinner. Avoid Jimin, his good looks, his charm, and his extremely toned body. Of course, the harder I tried to get rid of him, the harder he tried to be near me. Unnecessary skinship that made me shiver in pleasure, whispered words that made my toes curl and blood run hot. And his constant presence where ever I was, like he was afraid that if he wasn’t there I would run off.

            I would like to say it was overbearing, that it was annoying and creepy. But it wasn’t, and too my utter disgust I loved every second of it.

            In school, girls threw rumors around about how we were back together. The reason that Jimin and I had broken up was never really clear to the female populous, so they just filled in the blanks themselves. Ridiculous stories of drug addiction and personality disorders circulated the school, even accounts that Jimin had been seen cheating on me that he had impregnated another woman.

            The gossip was never acknowledged by Jimin or me, which just made it go crazier than before. After BTS made a name for themselves after saving the headmistress’ daughter from an attack by an enemy gang Jimin’s talent became obvious too. Now they called him supernatural, saying that his speed was unbeatable and that his accuracy his deadly.

            Now I sat in my lit apartment at the kitchen counter, my school work laid out in front of me. I clenched my pencil as I tried to figure out the wonders of my AP physics class. My head pounded painfully, I had a major headache.

            Not able to stand it any longer, I ripped my headphones out and hopped off the bar stool. I walked to the fridge for a bottle of sparkling water.

            Before, I had shared this apartment with Jimin; Chihoon didn’t want to live with me in fear that I would become targeted by his enemies. When Jimin and I had started going out we never had to worry about my brother walking in on a make out session. And during the entire junior year, well, Jordan would tease me with her exaggerated surprise of a rare sighting of us out of the bedroom.

            Now I lived here alone, Jimin’s stuff had been packed away and put in storage when he had left. I wonder if he wants any of it back.

            Unscrewing the top off the bottle, I took a long drink. The door bell rang twice. Setting my drink down, I padded towards the door, expecting my brother.

            Before I could open it though, the door swung open.

            Not my brother.

            Imagine my surprise as Park Jimin smirked at me from the other side of the door; he dragged a black medium sized suitcase inside and shut the door behind him.

            “What the hell are you doing here? How did you even get the door open? Chihoon oppa custom ordered that lock from Europe-” I started. Jimin held up his car keys. From the metal loop dangled his car keys, but a glint of a blue key caught my eye. It was nestled between the automatic lock and a pocketknife.  The key to this door.

            “Fine,” I said, “Answer the first question.” I demanded. Jimin kicked off his shoes and entered the living room.

            “Your brother said I could go back to living with you,” he announced with a small lopsided smile. I raised an eyebrow curiously.

            “How’d you pull that off?”

            Jimin frowned at me, “Hyung isn’t heartless. I told him that it was cramped at the BTS apartment with an extra person then asked him if I could move back in with you. He said yes.”

            My eyebrow did not lower. A beat passed.

            “He also said that if you complained even a little he would toss my to the curb.” He finished truthfully.

            I grinned. That sounded more like my brother.

I dragged in a breath as I stared at Jimin. He looked gazed around the apartment with fond eyes.

I could deal with this; Jimin just wanted a place to stay. Jimin is a boy a grew up with; I can’t kick him out without a good reason. You know, besides the fact that he was a total douche bag to me after we broke up. I tell myself this as my brain lets off several warnings. Danger! Separate yourself from your gorgeous ex boyfriend that seems to be set on rekindling your relationship.

After a moment I turned back to my homework, plopping back down on the chair. It wasn’t big of a deal. I could handle myself.

            “You’re not going to say anything?” Jimin asks rolling his suitcase towards his old room. I shrug, not looking up from my textbook.

            “What do you want me to say?” I ask.

            “Welcome home Jimin oppa, let’s have hot steamy makeup ?” He tries to imitate my voice, irritating me even more.

            “I’m not calling you oppa.”

            “But we’re good for the hot steamy makeup ?”

            “Sure.”

            “Really?

            “No.”

---

Jimin POV

God, I’m such a horndog. Maybe moving back in with Kimy wasn't the best idea because right now my pheromone levels were skyrocketing.

            And it wasn't even her fault.

            We were in her apartment; I sat on the couch watching TV. I had just unpacked and had found myself, not surprisingly, drawn to Kimy. Now Kimy sat next to me, on her phone. Her hair was tied up; she wore cutoffs and a hoodie. And for some reason I couldn’t keep my eyes off her.

            Her long endless legs stretched out in front of her, clad with a pair of identical white bunny slippers. Her shorts were too short; I kept glancing down at her legs. Her hair, messily pinned up, allowed wisps to frame her face and brush her neck. For some reason, Kimy’s exposed neck kept drawing me away from her legs.

            And then there were her hands that cradled her phone she scrolled through Tumblr or something. Her long slim fingers that used to comb through my hair and run up and down my arms and back and-

            “Are you okay?” she says in a voice that suggests I have a mental illness.

            I breathed out a long sigh and slowly tore my eyes away from her, “No.” I say.

            “Why?” she asks reflexively.

            “You’re sitting right here,” I say not bothering to lie, “and I just want to-“

            “ me against a wall?” Kimy asks casually, correctly guessing my problem. Her choice of words has my blood running hot. I turned to look at her just as she swings head to look at me. She glances down at my belt then up to my face, smirking. My tongue slips out of my mouth and swipes over my top lip.

            Standing up and shaking me out of my daze, Kimy pats me on the shoulder twice then moves to enter her room, “Not in this lifetime buddy.” She shuts her door behind her, and I’m left in her fiery wake.

            I growl in frustration and drag a hand through my hair. It was hard, living here but being completely cut off from Kimy. Not able to talk to her because of the distance my disappearance had caused, not being able to make her laugh because of my harsh post-breakup actions, not able to touch her without severe consequences.

            But I would wear down whatever wall she used to barricade me. I had to. I love her.

The reason I had left. Telling Kimy might earn me back her heart, but I don’t want an excuse to mend our relationship.

---

History class was just as painful as I had to resist the urge to just jump here rigjt there. The blinds pulled down to cover the windows, the lights shut off directing all the students attention to the PowerPoint presentation the teacher was using to lecture. We sat in single desks, pushed together to make desk partners. Everyone around me scribbled notes into their notebooks, phones poised to take a picture of missed slides.

            But I just could not concentrate.

            Kimy sat next to me, her pencil moving obediently as she copied down notes.

She wore her school uniform and tied her hair back like all the girls, but she seemed to wear it so much better. The teacher switched the slide and I watched as Kimy shook her writing hand out.

When we went out in high school, I was always holding her hand; walking her to her classes, sitting in the lunch room, under the table during class. She would always complain, but I knew she would complain even more if I ever let go. God I had missed her the past two months.

Kimy suddenly looked up at me, her eyes narrowed. “What?” she hissed.

I smiled and propped my head on my hands, “You’re beautiful.” I whispered back.

Kimy blinked, a blush threatened to appear. “Shut up.” She snarled and returned to her notebook. I turned my head back to the front of the class room, grinning.

Maybe I was being selfish, but I loved that I still had the same effect on her, that I could still make her blush.

Damn. My left foot began to jog to a fast invisible beat. I twirled my pencil with my fingers. Class was too long. Breaks were too short.

A moment passed; then I felt a hand press down on my knee stilling it. I raised my eyebrows and looked down at it. Kimy retracted her hand, looking a mix between embarrassed and pissed.

“Stop it, you’re distracting me.” She ordered.

“No.” I answer easily, “You are distracting me.”

Kimy didn’t respond. Even though I had left the past couple of months, we had this familiarity that left nothing to imagination. She was ice cold but she didn’t feel uncomfortable around me. It wasn’t much on my long road to win her back, but it was a start.

---

Honestly I was getting a little too comfortable with Jimin. I mean, yeah we grew up in the same house, ate the same food and showered together in several occasions (either as four year olds or seventeen year olds) but after Jimin had disappeared I had drilled into my head that, if he came back, I would not let him back into my life.

            And yet here I was, letting him eat half of my cheese cake.

            Damn you, Park Jimin.

            But what could do? I had returned back to our apartment after tutoring one of my underclassmen carrying a cake they had given me in celebration of their latest test score. Jimin had bounded happily out of his room to greet me the second I opened the door and almost made me drop the cake.

            “Holy .” I curse as Jimin accidently slid a lot closer then he thought he would on the hardwood floor and practically slammed me against the door. In a moment of absolute surprise I in a gasp as I feel the cake box slip from my fingers. My beautiful cake… I immediately jerked forward to save it, but I end up slipping on one of my cute bunny slippers. I felt the world tilt as it was pulled out from beneath me.

            “Whoa.” Jimin says. Moving in a blur he snakes one arm around my waist yanking me against his chest, away from the ground. With his sneaker clad foot, he expertly snags the cake box in between the tip of his sneaker and shin.

            “Careful,” Jimin murmurs, planting me on my feet and reaching down to grab the cake box. “Pretty much threw yourself into my arms.” Jimin sings before I can thank him for saving the cake.

            I wrinkle my nose at him and move a hand to knock hair out of my face.

            “I did not.” I say firmly as walk to the kitchen counter. He follows me, “You slid into me.”

I hear Jimin’s chuckle.

            “What?” I ask curiously. Jimin sets the cake box down on the kitchen island, his grin is wide and dirty, his eyes glint wickedly.

            “You slide into me.” He repeats, raising a dark eyebrow. He hops onto the kitchen island and props himself up on his hands.

            I shake my head at him and turn away before he can see the blush spreading across my cheeks.

            “Don’t be shy, it’s nothing that’s never happened before,” Jimin recalls thoughtfully. I almost throw my precious cake at his smirking face.

            “What’s this?” Jimin says, smartly changing the subject before I can decapitate him with a butter knife. Without waiting for any explanation he pops the lid open and gazes down upon the beauteous creamy cake perfection. I lean over and stare down at it affectionately.

            “It..looks so good.” Jimin says after a moment of awe, his face is a picture of pained restraint as he stares down at the small cake. I grin proudly as he hovers above it, looking like he wants to get high on the delicious smell.

            Naturally, the corners of the cake are a little smashed from the fall, but the entire cake as a whole looks just as good as it did when I was gifted it. Plain and beautiful, small circle of gooey mouth-watering cake, delicately surrounded by a good amount of crushed gram cracker almost had me inhaling the entire thing right there.

            “Where did you find this stunning piece of work?” Jimin marveled, turning the box in a circle on the counter as if to get a better look.

            “I have bros, in different area codes. What do you mean where did I get this?” I say so sassily, I’m surprised I didn’t snap my fingers or fix a hand on my hip.

            Jimin raises an eyebrow, biting down on his lip to keep from laughing.

            “I’m kidding,” I say with a large smile, “one of the kids I tutor gave this to me. Isn’t he gorgeous? God he’s just so beautiful.” I say staring lovingly down at the cake.

            Jimin is silent for a moment, almost contemplating my words.

            “How come you can call the cake gorgeous, but you never admit my smoldering looks?” he asks finally.

            I stare at him, “Are you jealous of this cake?” I ask incredulously. Jimin blinks.

            “I am not jealous of the cake,” he defends himself. I laugh and walk over to the dishwasher.

            “Yes, you are,”

            “No I’m not,”

            “Jimin, you are such a baby. Jealous of a cake,”

            “I’m not!” he insists, but his slowly spreading grin says otherwise. I grab two forks from the dishwasher and offer him one.

            “I’m not going to eat the cake.” He declares turning his head away childishly. I shrug and set the fork down next to him, knowing that Jimin can never really resist sweets. Scooping up a bite, I carefully maneuvered it to my mouth and bit down on the cake. My mouth flooded with saliva as I starting chewing, I think my vision goes white and I whimper in pleasure.

            Humming in happiness I dug my fork back into the cake.

            Noticing the sudden quietness from the teenage boy next to me, I turn my head to look at him my fork still stuck in my mouth.

            He smirked.

            “I remember the last time we had cake together,” he said in a low voice.

            I remember too, it was back when we were dating. Right now we stood in mock positions, Jimin sitting on the kitchen island and me standing next to him. Jimin and I had come home after school one day to the last piece of cheesecake in the fridge. We fought over it for awhile, before deciding to share it. We were using spoons that time but we had whittled the piece down to the last bite.

            We both stared at it for a moment then we both flashed forward, spoons outstretched. He had been just a smidge faster than me, and triumphantly scraped the last bite up.

            “Jimin-ah,” I had whined, tugging on his sweatshirt. He stared down at me easily from his spot on the counter. He was a few inches taller than me, but sitting on the island counter made him at least a head taller. I had to tilt my head up to pout at him.

            Jimin had smiled teasingly and threatened to eat it. I knew that he would give it to me; he always did when we fought over food, but this time he actually shoved the spoon into his mouth.

            My face must have darkened or something and I turned away angrily.

            Before I could start beating him, Jimin latched onto the collar of my black button down and crashed his lips against mine. I was annoyed but I allowed him to slip his tongue into my mouth. Suddenly delicious cheesecake had exploded into my mouth as he entwined our tongues and I realized what he was doing. I tiptoed, trying to get closer to him, but he was too tall. He had slid off the counter and pulled my firmly against his body. The sweetness had lasted a long time after the cheesecake was gone.

            I had pulled back blushing and watched as Jimin his lips, the corner of his mouth tilting upwards.

            I jerked myself out of the memory.

            Jimin smiled down at me, a genuine smile that I wasn’t used to. He was always smirking, it was his thing. But when Jimin smiled he looked so much softer and younger.

            “You want to try again?” Jimin asks, ruining the moment and slipping a bite of cake into his mouth.

            “No.”

            “Please?”

            “No.”

I shoved another spoon of the cake into my mouth before grabbing the box and walking to the couch. Jimin let out a mewl of protest and I heard him jump of the kitchen counter.

“Where are you going?” he asks following me.

“TV,” I mutter and plop down on the couch. I place the cake box in my lap and grab the remote.

I stiffen, feeling Jimin come up behind me. He rests his forearms on the back rest of the couch, leaning close to my head.

“Aw, to Baby Kimy get flustered?” he coos. I grit my teeth and turn the TV on.

“Go away,” I hiss. Jimin reaches forward for a forkful of cake. His arms are long enough, but he leans even closer and I get bombarded by his familiar scent.

            It’s weird, Jimin leaves for almost six months and he still smells the same. Like a warm heady mix of detergent, soap, and cologne.

            Jimin suddenly moves, flipping of the couch and landing on the ground nest to my legs. Propping one knee up, Jimin turns to look back at me.

            “What are we watching?”

            Surprised that he didn’t continue hounding me for or something, I just hand him the remote. Jimin eagerly takes it and starts flipping though the channels.

            We fight over what to watch for a long time, settling on the third Iron Man movie. The subtitles at the bottom of the screen roll and we watch as Pepper get tortured and ultimately changed.

            I turn to look at Jimin. I can see the side of his face, he’s absolutely transfixed and looks almost horrified as Pepper’s body writhes in pain.

            “Are you okay?” I ask in disbelief, he actually looks a little anxious.

            “Yeah,” his voice comes out steady, “I just feel bad.”

            “She is really pretty,” I comment, blinking at the red head on the screen. In front of me, Jimin shakes his head.

            “Not Pepper, I feel bad for her boyfriend. She’s being targeted because of her relationship with Tony Stark. He must feel like . Just his presence is a danger to the girl he’s with.” Jimin say. He doesn’t turn to look at me; his face is clean of all emotions. He stares fixedly at the             TV screen.

            He’s desperately trying to say something. I can’t tell what it is, so I just nod.

            “Yeah.”

A/N: Thank you for reading❤ Please subscribe and expect more chapter in the future❤