The Rejects [YoonMin][NamJin]

Chapter Six

It was impossible not to think about Jimin for the rest of the day.

How was he supposed to forget?

The younger boy appeared from thin air and changed everything.

This wasn't just another foster home anymore; it was the place where the most precious person in the world lived.

During lunch that day, the pink-haired boy sat tantalisingly close to the elder and held onto his arm the whole time. Reminiscent of the old days when they needed each other so badly they couldn't let go when they needed safety and reassurance and found it in one another.

Explaining how the pair knew each other when Hobi asked wasn't too difficult for Jimin. He simply said they lived in a foster home together for a little while until they were separated.

Luckily, the other boys didn't ask for many more details because they knew Yoongi would not be forthcoming, and the pink-haired boy was still too involved with the elder.

They embraced again when it was time to return to class, holding on almost too long.

Walking away felt almost impossible, with each step inflicting torturous pain, like walking through molten lava.

Yoongi could feel his heart in his mouth the entire time, struggling to concentrate on the rest of his classes and barely registering Hoseok's outbursts for the rest of the day.

Everything was a blur, and he felt as if he was staggering around the building, moving from one spot to another without cognitive thought.

How could he think about anything else?

Jimin was right there.

He was different now, taller and stronger, handsome and pretty simultaneously.

But he was still the same boy from all those years ago; that was apparent in how he clung to Yoongi's arm to keep him from moving away.

He unconsciously reverted to some of their old habits without realising.

It had been a long time since anybody came to him for safety.

Yoongi feared letting go; there was so much to talk about. But Jimin had made it abundantly clear that his friends had no idea what he went through in his younger years.

The pain and the suffering were like a distant memory that he didn't want to dredge up; he didn't want to share it with the boys who loved and respected him.

So he said nothing.

As promised, Mrs Kim was waiting for him outside the school building with a soft smile on her face as the blonde wordlessly slipped into the car.

"Hey, how was your first day?" She asked, looking at the teenager who slumped into the seat, dropping his bag and leaning back, almost in relief.

He glanced at the dark-haired woman in acknowledgement before nodding a little. "It was okay."

She smiled with knowing, resisting the urge to reach out and cup the boy's hand. He didn't seem the type to enjoy an unsolicited touch.

His frown and deflated body language suggested the day had been more taxing than he suggested. "Just okay?"

Yoongi looked to the window at the thought of Jimin, pressing a fist into his thigh when his stomach fluttered painfully. 

He was pleased to see the boy from his past, but immediately, the dark memories started bubbling to the surface again, plaguing him, harassing and shaking his usually unbreakable barrier.