JIMIN

"Are you okay?"

I'm finally able to say it, after so much hesitating. And when I do, he looks up and gives me a warm smile.

"I'm fine." He says, and frowns slightly as he looks back down to his folded hands. "I'm sorry you had to see me like that, Jimin."

My eyes widen.

"No— that's not what I m-meant..."

He laughs when I stutter, and I look down again, feeling embarrassed that I can't meet his gaze for long. "I know, it's okay. I know that's not what you mean."

And then his voice gets a bit serious.

"Jimin, why don't you ever look me in the eyes?"

My mouth drops open a bit. Now I meet them, and he's looking at me with a genuinely curious gaze. I swallow slightly, my mind spinning to think up what to say to that.

"I— just, it's not intentional, I promise."

But now it sounds even more worse. I wince when he tilts his head a bit, face thoughtful as he thinks about my answer. Now it must sound like it's instinct that I avoid his eyes, which is someways worse than being intentional.

I blink slowly.

"Sorry— I didn't mean it like that either."

He laughs again this time, but doesn't say anything like he'd done before. But then he suddenly looks up, and I realize I hadn't broken the gaze even though he had.

"Can you come here? Jungkook told me something."

I hesitate for a brief second, but then go to him. He motions quickly for me to turn around, and I bite down on my lip, start chewing on it when he lifts the back of the shirt hanging loose against my body.

I shiver when the cold air meets my scars and bruises.

It's only a second, and I hear him hiss out air between clenched teeth. I rub at my eyes, now biting down at the inside of my mouth then my lip.

"I'll have the doctor come again tomorrow." He says, sighing as he crosses his arms. "I knew it— that damn man. Of course."

"How can he do that?"

I sit on the edge of the large bed in the middle of the room, tugging at the long sleeves. My bare feet don't touch the ground, barely brushing against it.

"It's— um, just the way it has been. I don't remember, if I had anything before the circus. I was always there."

"You're an orphan?"

I look up a bit, surprised at how blunt he is. But it doesn't make me feel sad, with the way he's saying the word. He says it just like any other thing, and I kind of like it.

People always said it so pitifully, and it made everything so much worse even if they didn't intend it to.

"Yeah." I finally draw up my legs, hugging my knees to my body. "Does it bother you?"

He laughs deeply.

"Why would it bother me? We're the same, Jimin." He says in that careless tone again, but the words he says makes my head snap up in surprise.

"You're—"

"Yes." He says, and a light smile pulls on his face at my shocked look. "Does that bother you, Jimin?"

I look back shyly down onto my hands, folded together on my lap.

"Ah. Now you're just teasing me."

"So this is the way to get you more comfortable, huh?" He suddenly says, leaning back into the chair. "When I first saw you, you were so tense. Like I was about to eat you alive."

Embarrassment heats my cheeks.

"I wasn't that tense, Taehyung."

"You seemed so exhausted then." He says, voice a bit more heavier than the lightness he'd had before. "You look better now."

Then realization suddenly comes over his eyes, like a dark sunset.

"They didn't let you sleep?"

"......no."

I suddenly feel sleepy.

He doesn't say anything for a while, and I look up dazedly from my clasped hands. Then I'm taken aback when I see the expression he has on his face.

His eyes are slightly wider than before, corners of his lips tilted upwards in disbelief. His face is shadowed— and it's that look. The one that scares me the most.

"You look tired." He says, and I whisper out in surprise when he gets up. "Just sleep on my bed if you want."

"W-What? Where are you going?"

But he doesn't hear me, and the door swings shut before I can say anything else.

__________________________

TAEHYUNG

"Are you sure? Just— Just why all of a sudden?"

"I'm sure." I say into the phone, my eyes scanning over the description of the circus Jimin had been part of. "Buy the entire thing. And replace the ringmaster to a new one."

My lips tighten.

"And put a black mark on his record, so he won't be able to get hired."

There's a moment of silence on the other end, before the line crackles to life again.

"I'll get it done, sir."

The line clicks.

I hang up, still furious. It didn't satisfy me this way. Maybe I should just get him thrown into jail for life, to pay the price for what he'd done.

No doubt he was the cause of Jimin's PTSD.

I look down at the surface of my desk, the piles of paperwork stacked neatly to the right. Each of them is written on with my careful handwriting, and I finally slip the pen down onto the surface.

Then I stand, going back to my room.

It'd been two hours— three, now— since I'd left Jimin alone. Had he gone back?

But when I open the door, I see his small figure, curled up on the center of my bed. His eyes are closed, and he doesn't even have the covers over himself.

My clothes on him are so big it literally swallows him up.

Compared to when I'd first seen him, he does look much better. There's color now in his pale cheeks, more fuller from eating. His eyes don't seem so hollow anymore.

I've never felt so protective over a person.

Silently, I loosen the covers from the frame and pull it up to his arched body. He shivers slightly, before settling deeper into the sheets.

I'd never let anyone hurt him again.

_________________________

*END*