Butterfly | Park Jimin [Book II]

15: Persistent

MIN HANEUL

"Jimin?" I asked, tilting my head to the side and the guy retracted his hand away from the doorbell. "Oh, it's really you."

My eyes softened and landed on the familiar flower patterned box he was holding. "I'm sorry about that." I sheepishly smiled. "You shouldn't have— I should've went back to get it on my own."

I took the box from him, bending my knees a little to steady myself with its weight.

"Are you okay?"

The question threw me off guard. I froze for a moment. "Yeah," I muttered. "Sorry you had to bring this here. It must've been a bother."

He subtly shook his head, and I could foresee the awkward atmosphere about to happen.

"I'd invite you for manggaetteok." I managed to show him the plastic bag containing the food I had just bought whilst balancing the box at the same time. "But that would probably take up too much of your time."

I was ready to hear him say I was right. In fact, I had made an excuse for him to leave already. Saves him the effort.

"Actually, I don't mind."

I blinked owlishly, and he simply shrugged. Balancing the box on a single arm with the plastic bag, I fiddled for my keys on my pocket. Jimin took the box and I mumbled a shy thank you.

He probably felt pity over last time, hence the sudden kindness. At least he wasn't mad. I still had to apologize for suddenly pushing him after all.

"I heard from Jungkook you haven't been working for days now."

Unlocking the door, I held it open and stepped in with Jimin following suit.

"After the last contract, I don't have any clients in line. So that's why," I told him, which was part of the truth.

I kept my distance from Jimin as I led him to my living room. It was instinctive. Like not just because it was Jimin, I wouldn't keep my guard. It didn't work that way.

Sometimes, I wish it did.

"Haneul-ah," called Jimin as I took the box from his grip.

Did he notice?

"Is there something I need to know?"

I kept a straight face, meeting his questioning eyes. They carried the slightest glint of concern.

Twitching my lips upwards, I avoided his gaze and simply turned my back at him, placing the box on the side. All the while, I could tell that he was observing my movements.

Don't let him catch on anything, I kept telling myself.

"You're not answering," said Jimin.

"That's because there's nothing." I smiled at him. "I'll just get a plate in the kitchen."

I intentionally made small steps to buy more time to compose myself. It was evident that Jimin was curious about something, and I didn't want to pique his interest with whatever it might be about.

Going back to the living room, I placed the plate on the coffee table and took out the food from the plastic bag.

"Here," I offered Jimin.

"How have you been lately?"

I quietly exhaled, keeping the smile on my face. How could I forget that Jimin was the persistent kind of person?

"I've been fine, Jimin," I told him and chuckled at his unconvinced expression. "What? Do I look like I'm not?"

"No, but it looks like you're forcing not to look like it."

The smile on my face faltered, now replaced with a frown. "I'm just... tired lately. It's nothing to mind, really."

"But I've heard you've been shutting yourself in lately."

"You have?"

It was Jimin's turn to dodge the question. He simply reached for the manggaetteok and shoved one into his mouth.

How highly unlikely would it be for Jimin to actually monitor my daily activities, so it was kind of amusing that he knew I haven't been stepping outside much often. When in fact, not even Jungkook nor Taehyung knew.

Well, wherever he got the info, it didn't matter.

I turned on the television to drown the silence and settled myself at the edge of the couch with a pillow on my lap. Jimin would openly stare at me occasionally, but I feigned ignorance and brushed it away.

Judging his actions, my assumption that he had questions he wanted to open up was confirmed. As much as I would like to figure out what was stopping him in doing so, I also found it advantageous that I didn't have to deal with it.

"You know..." Jimin spoke up, almost startling me. "I just can't help but think that there's something wrong and whatever it is, I have a strong feeling I should know about it."

I slid a wary glance at Jimin through the corner of my eyes and turned away right after.

"Back in the elevator... you—"

"I'm just overreacting back then, that was stupid of me," I interjected.

"It doesn't seem that way, Haneul," he argued.

"Then maybe I acted too well, it seemed very realistic."

Jimin stood up, frustratedly running a hand through his hair and pushed his head back. "But that's not like you, Haneul. I'm not too blind to not see through it. I might have not seen you for so long but I know you—"

"I know myself better, Jimin," I snapped. "Maybe it's because I just really hate it being there with you."

Once those words left my mouth, regret surged within me. But what could I do? He wouldn't leave it alone and this was the only way I could think of right now.

"Yeah?" He laughed humorlessly, and my chest tightened at the sullen look painted on his face.

I exhaled deeply. "Look, Jimin—"

"Yeah, you were definitely just overreacting," he sneered. "I hope you had fun with your act. You could've just told me you never wanted to see me again."

Jimin stormed out and when the loud thud of the door echoed throughout my apartment, the tears I had been holding in flowed out as if the barriers stopping them had broken down all at once. I could only helplessly shove my face into my pillow and scream my frustrations out.

I'm sorry Jimin. It's not that I don't trust you, and it's totally not because I hate you. I just don't think you need to know.