SeVen Uncaged :The Second Chapter

Grain or Sand, Nothing Is Extinguished Nor Forgotten

“Noona~” Jimin whined again when you didn’t pull away from Tae, watching the difficult breathing under his blankets with concern before you made your way to your pouty arctic fox. “Help me,” Jimin pleaded, his normal sweet tone so lacquered with extra honey and sugar that it could put you in a diabetic coma.

“Jimin,” you began, keeping your eyes level with his baby blues that sparkled like a sinner who cheated the devil, rather than on the exposed skin of his shoulder and chest, left bare by his half-assed attempt at putting on his turtleneck. “What are you doing?”

“It keeps getting twisted.” His pretty bow lips pursed, his naked shoulder shrugging while the other that had most of the fuzzy fabric bunched up, wiggled like a pouting toddler.

“You know how shirts work,” you quipped without much energy, but reached out to help untangle the mess he’d put himself in, holding open the collar for his head, taking extra caution to mind his fluffy ears when he pushed himself through. You focused on guiding his hand and arm through the sleeve after you had the wool fabric folded down nicely around his neck. 

When you’d grasped the sides to tug the sweater down his torso he stepped flush against you in a gentle embrace, hugging you around your shoulders while his face buried in your hair to chitter happily, scenting your tresses and ruining the style you’d spent almost an hour watching tutorials to recreate. 

“Jimin~” You started to scold, but stopped yourself, giving a light yank to the back of the super soft fabric with both hands so that the sweater nestled in place on his hips before returning the hug with a sigh, allowing him to scent you at the detriment of your braided bun. 

From over Jimin’s shoulder when he bent over to better access your neck, your vision shifted to Jungkook who had made himself at home in front of the mirror. There had been a shift in his demeanor since the fight that you couldn’t pinpoint, and you couldn’t decide if it meant good or bad when it came to your bunny, but you couldn’t help but be concerned.

“How you feeling bun?” A question you’d probably asked at least eighty times by that point. 

His warm, chocolatey brown ears stood at the call of your voice, eyes in his reflection floating from staring at his face over to quickly find your image with a fond chuckle that filled his chest. “I thought I told you the first five thousand times,” he teased. “I’m fine, noona.” He was quiet, still seeming in shock, but there was something there that wasn’t before.

You stared in awe at your bunny, observing the way he flopped back his ears with one hand once they collapsed back into his face, pushing away his bangs in the process before picking out strands he wanted to remain along his forehead with just his pinky nail. Just standing there looking damn good in a black rib-knit crewneck, the bagginess accentuating his triangular shape from his shoulders to that tiny waist. It wasn’t what he was wearing though, it was that newfound self-assurance that seemed to settle into his shoulders. A calm confidence that didn’t exist before, even as his eyes carried the heavy weight of the room in them.

Squeezing your eyes closed for a moment to collect yourself, you finally pried yourself away from Jimin’s hold to fix up your hair, earning an uncharacteristic nip to your neck from the fox. Though it stung, you barely perceived the pain, too numb from everything going on. You weren’t in the clear yet, and you had a feeling you wouldn’t be okay until you were.

“As much as I don’t want to do this tonight..” you breathed, chest tight at the prospect of facing your family. “Whoever s— did.. This..” you swallowed, glancing at the marks marring Jimin’s otherwise perfect skin. “They’re still here and they’ll most likely be at the party. So let’s just— just get through this, okay? Everyone ready?”