INTO THE WOODS - PJM

CHAPTER ONE.

The glowing blue light from Jimin's phone illuminates against the walls of the cabin, clashing with the scarce rays of moonlight that shine through the open window. The cabins don't come equipped with any kind of air conditioner or cooling system, so the heat constantly haunts you. And it's the reason why you're awake right now, at three in the morning, your clothes sticking to the perspiration on your skin as you shift and turn uncomfortably in your equally uncomfortable bed.

The soft glow of Jimin's phone screen begins to irritate you. Does he ever put that thing down? And you thought you had an addiction to your phone. For the past week since your arrival, he stays on his phone until the earliest hours of the morning, and you are almost sure that he doesn't sleep. What is he even doing on his phone for all those hours? You don't think you have the courage to ask, nor can you really bring yourself to care with the anger that gradually bubbles in your core. Coupled with this crippling heat, you have literally reached your boiling point.

"Jimin.. can you please get off your phone?" Your voice comes out soft, almost a whisper, and for a second you think he didn't hear you.

"Sorry." His reply comes quicker than you anticipate and a sliver of satisfaction curls in your stomach when the fluorescent glow of his phone disappears and the room is clouded in darkness.

Finally, you think in relief as you let your eyes droop shut and feel the bliss of sleep overtaking you. You can finally get some shut-eye after hours of suffering in silence; it feels like a generous gift from deities.

And just when you are about to drift off into dreamland, you are pulled back to reality when you hear the familiar tap tapping of an electronic keyboard once again. Snapping your eyes open, the blue glow is back, and you shove your face into your pillow and let out a long, muffled groan.

Looks like you won't be getting any decent sleep tonight.

—

Eventually, after what feels like years later, Jimin ends up retiring to bed. But by then, morning has already dawned, and you hear birds chirping from outside through the open window. If you had to count, you probably only got three hours, at most, of straight sleep. To be frank, you are exhausted and a little cranky. Sighing, you sit up and decide to get an early start. The camp staff was hosting some scavenger hunt that was supposed to be an all-day event, and they were going to drag everyone into it, whether they want to participate or not.

You grab your towel, bathroom necessities, and your clothes for the day and make your way to the bathroom for a shower. You hope that washing away the icky feeling of humidity will make you feel a bit less sluggish from your lack of sleep. Maybe the water will even miraculously wash away the dark bags you know for sure are chilling beneath your eyes. With this in mind, you quickly strip from your damp sleepwear and step into the shower.

Meanwhile, in the other room, Jimin stirs at the sound of running water. His lids slowly peel themselves open, and he immediately glances at the clock on his phone; it's only been an hour. A whole hour of sleep; a new record considering he hasn't slept in two days. The boy absentmindedly grins and runs a hand through his slightly mussed hair, your face flashing in his mind.

Jimin arrived a week prior to you and had four different cabinmates all within six days because they all had switched out the moment they found out they were going to be roomed with him. At this point in his lonely life, sixteen years in, he can't bring himself to even be bothered by the blatant ostracizing and prodding comments. But somewhere, deep down, he cares, a lot. And it hurts once he realizes.

You, though.. you are so completely opposite. You stayed. He hasn't made much of an effort to get to know you or talk to you yet—he is too shy to even ask you about yourself—but little do you know that just your presence lulls him to sleep when he hasn't slept in days, and the warmth your very being exudes makes him feel secure, wanted, and strangely enough, loved. The fact you even want to be around him puts you on a high pedestal in his mind.

You don't know it and neither does Jimin, but he is slowly becoming addicted to your presence. It's only a matter of time before he—

"Jimin..?"

Your voice pulls him from his musing. Looking up, his bleary eyes focus on you, zeroing in on your face.

"You should get ready now. The scavenger hunt starts in an hour and we shouldn't be late."

Jimin doesn't move for a long moment, but you are already on your side of the room, gathering your belongings with sleepy, robotic motions. And he watches, still somewhat fascinated and starstruck by your use of 'we'. It's been a long time since someone considered his existence, and it feels good. He likes it, he decides, keeping his eyes trained on your bustling form.

"Okay."

Living with Jimin for seven days has already made you quite immune to all the intense staring and lack of intelligible response, but you easily miss the small smile that tugs at his lips as he gets up and disappears into the bathroom, out of sight.