Interwoven ✔️

17~ Volatile Spirits

Thunder crashed overhead and shook the very walls of the Sharehouse.

I curled up tightly in the blanket I'd burrito-wrapped myself in on the couch. I'd briefly tried turning on the television, but the thunderstorm limited the channels I could watch, and I wasn't in the mood to watch some fishing show, which was my only other option besides the news. And the news was a mess of reports on the recent tragedies and now the Pure Reformists

Rain beat against the windows and rattled on the roof. I'd always loved the sound of rain dribbling on the roof. There was something almost comforting of the sound. As if on cue, a loud crack of (discomforting) thunder shook the very walls of the house.

I winced at the sound, tucking my head deeper into the fluffy blankets. While the sound of the rain on the roof was nice, the thunder wasn't.

My head popped back up when I heard the rattle of the front door. A second later it swung open and a sopping Jimin waddled in, wet shoes squeaking a little across the ground.

"What on earth?" I immediately left the comfort of my warm blankets. "Jimin, I thought you were wearing a raincoat."

I swore when I saw him leave earlier this morning for his work he'd had a rain jacket on. I wasn't entirely sure since I'd been distracted by the cute kiss goodbye he'd given me before leaving.

Ever since the night in the kitchen, the mood had shifted between us. There were still plenty of small, practical jokes we pulled on each other— the latest having been me taping every article of Jimin's clothing on the ceiling of the bedroom including his socks and boxers.

Did I have too much time on my hands? Yes.

Did I regret anything? After seeing Jimin yelling at me for taping up his convenient store bought electric blue polka-dot boxers directly in front of the window for any passerby to see, no. I regretted nothing.

However, all practical jokes aside, there was a new atmosphere. It was a sweet kind of affection shared between the two of us. Nothing like the wild, hot romances often seen in movies. Our kisses and touches consisted of sweet nothings and playful teasing. The heat and fiery passion could come later.

Speaking of heat and fire, Jimin looked like he desperately needed both. He shivered in his soaked clothes. Even his silver Marks' glow was muted, as if trying to maintain as much body heat as possible.

"I did have a raincoat," he said stiffly.

"And?" I prompted.

"I don't have it anymore."

"Hang on." I grabbed his arm and dragged him from the dark threshold of the door into better lighting. I stared at him. "Are those bruises?"

My silver Outworlder roommate had several faded yellow splotches dribbling down his jaw that looked like bruises at the end stages of healing. And because of his regenerative healing, that meant he'd just recently received them and the healing factors were still at work.

"Maybe?" He grinned sheepishly.

I glowered at him. So it was going to be one of these nights, huh? A night of elusive, answer a question with a question, nights. I saw how it was.

"Stay there. I'm going to grab some towels. Also, take off your shoes. I don't want you trailing water all over the carpets." With that, I whirled around and bounded up the stairs.

By the time I was back downstairs with towels, Jimin had already taken off his shoes, socks, and was just finishing peeling off his shirt.

I tried not to stare too long at his well muscled torso. His silver Marks wrapping around his waist and ribs, rippling along his abdominals every time he breathed.