Chapter 7

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Your POV:

His room is somehow messier than before, half his papers strewn across the floor. He excuses himself into the tiny attached restroom. Well, maybe I should help pick up these papers, who knows, what if it's my ticket home. 

Most of these are all written with a different alphabet anyhow, doesn't matter if it's priva- a small clump of papers which I could read is hidden among a few loose sheets.

Well, I mean, I technically don't exist in this realm, so it can't ve an invasion of privacy, it's just to get to know him better.

The blood drains from my face, needing to read a few a second time. Why is he getting death threats...

I thought the humans play nice with each other ever since the wars ended. The other papers on his desk and few by the floor call for my attention, standing out more than ever despite being unable to read most of them, just how many of these are...

FLUSH!

Scrambling back up to my feet, I place the stack of papers on his desk, pretending they'd always been there while Jimin steps out the restroom, running a wet hand through his hair as though nothings wrong too. 

Until he looks my way as I walk to him "Grass.. graSS ..GRASS!"

"GRASS?" I yell back, we're in his room, what flipping grass is here.

Krrrck

The sound of the little remnants of the vase crunch beneath my foot before silence follows, both Jimin and I just staring at each other, the little calm before the storm.

...looks like gluing it back together probably won't happen.

His eyes dart down to my feet, fingers pointing at them "p... pi ...pipi!"
(b... blood ...bloodblood)

Pipi? Cheeks? He went Spanish the first time we meet, now going Malay language ...unless

My eyes go down to my feet, little streaks of shimmery pale red trail down the ceramic shards, pooling on the floors.

And now the pain hits.

Why is it MORE painful after seeing the injury, where is the science.

Jimin lets out a panicked yelp, kneeling down and picking up the injured foot hastily to inspect it, leaving me to balance myself like a flamingo.

He grimaces while prodding my heel.

"Don't touch!" I yelp out, oh my gosh, is this what dying is like? Thats it, farewell everyone. I'm going to pass on before completing my job, what a disgraceful death.

"Goodbye, Jimin. See you in the afterlife, you should get VIP seats to my funeral-"

Jimin raises a brow, looking up from where he knelt, somewhere along my dramatic antics he caught on to what I was saying, or the gist atleast because with zero reciprocation to my theatrics he goes "You ...god-ess. They, cannot die."

Oh right, forgot that minor detail, unless the potion messed shit up again.

He places my foot back down, lifting up my own heel I peer at my foot, the wound all closed up now on its own like usual. Huh, there was a little redness in the blood though, looks like the potion is having some weird side-effects.

But it probably shouldn't be too bad?

He hands over a tissue for me to wipe off my feet, while he gets on with disposing of the ceramic shards.

"Thank you."

He stills at my words, but eventually nods in acknowledgement, barely a second goes by before the door flies open.

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