CHAPTER SEVEN
"You're so clumsy you should wear warning sign above your head."
Majority, especially the ones in his generation, probably doesn't know, but Park Jimin came from one of the longest line of an Alpha Wolf Pack—Nightray.
Park Jiyong, his father, known by each and every one of their kind as a strong, brave, strict, quick-witted and meticulous Pack Alpha; and had been one of the greatest tactician warrior back in the days before he takes over of the pack leadership task, being the Pack Alpha at such young age.
His father had been leading their pack for as long as Jimin can remember; always out of their hut to do and attend his job. He's never seen his father that much, let alone have father-son bonding, always busy being the Pack Alpha to even ask if his son and wife had already eaten. But his father was great at leading their pack, and Jimin had always looked up to him albeit being ignored most of the time.
Jimin was always excited whenever his father would come home early and eat dinner with him and his mother, reminding him to get a good night sleep and be ready tomorrow. He thought his father will finally play with him, just like what other father do with their sons during days off.
But Jimin was wrong. And he had learned not to expect for something like that in a hard way at such a very, very young age.
Park Jiyong would drag the pup Jimin into the deep of the woods at the darkest of dawn and train him until the moon replaces the sun in the sky to cast them lights. Growing up hearing his father use the alpha tone on him to make him obey without a question, ignoring how the pup's tiny frame would tremble under the tone of command.
"Stand up and do not cry on me, son. In few years, you'd be proclaimed as an alpha, and you'd be thankful of me for preparing you in advance." It's a preparation for being the Pack Heir, they say, because he happened to be an only child. He has known his father to be like that, but never a family oriented. Family-man is out of his father's adjectives.
It's the same with his mother; Park Jisoo, a beautiful and absolutely gorgeous Female Alpha. The pack's members always telling Jimin how he got his mother's exceptional beauty; and that they both have stoic faces when being serious and focusing on something. He remembered how the praises always get to him, being called as beautiful as his mother is such an honor. There's not a day he forgot giving his mother a flower crown, running into the woods every afternoon and picking only the best and elegant colorful flowers (because his mother only deserves the best) he'd see near the riverbank, going back into their hut before twilight as told by the elders.
He'd scream in delight the moment his little feet were inside their hut, calling for his mother and squeaking how beautiful she is. Park Jisoo would bend over his little frame until they're eye level, letting Jimin put the flower crown atop her head and smiling just a little—it's tiny, almost non-existent if not for their close proximity—before she would stand straight with a light pat on the pup's head, "It's beautiful, son. Thank you. But flower crowns are made for omegas, not alphas. Leave the flowers and train with your father, okay?" before leaving just as graceful, like she hadn't just indirectly crushed her son's heart.
The events with his mother had been the main reason why his love for arts and paintings had been his deepest darkest secret. He doesn't need any more of subtle insults and disapproval from everyone who'd know.
Majority, especially the ones in his generation, probably doesn't know, but Park Jimin came from one of the longest line of an Alpha Wolf. So imagine when he'd reached his 13th birthday and was hit by his first cycle the same night. It was a shame, for not being born as an alpha like everyone else had expected him to be. His genes came from both alphas, his ancestors are one of the longest lines of alphas, his structure had expected to be an alpha.
But alas, he was not.
Imagine the embarrassment he had felt during his first cycle as an omega. Seeing the judgment and utter disgust from other alphas in their pack when they saw him sweating cold bullets and paling from pain. Seeing the disapproval and anger from his father's eyes, scowling and almost growling. Seeing the disappointment in his mother's eyes as she tried to nurse him with herbal medicine and tea made by the pack healers to help his fever come down even for a bit. How he saw his father through his blurry vision, without a word, stormed out of their hut with a dark frown. And how his mother left him inside his room with cold, stoic face, as soon as the haze in his mind cleared a bit. And hearing all the bad and hurtful words from other pack members registering in his system even through his current condition.
Jimin had wanted to leave right there and then; leave his pack and maybe become either a rogue or stray. He doesn't know, but he doesn't care either. As long as he'd be away from his pack.
Jimin stares blankly at the dirty-white wall in front of him, trembling hands tightly clasped in between his knees. His breath had finally calmed down, but the beating of his heart was still stuttering in his chest. He felt like passing out.
He heard the door from his right opens followed by set of light footsteps against the wooden floorboard; silhouette of someone standing beside the bed he's sitting at. There's a long pause; only the tick-tock of the analog wall clock from somewhere in the room filling the silence—it's not awkward but also isn't comfortable enough.
There's a heavy sigh. "Okay, first thing's first." A low, raspy voice broke the silence. Jimin didn't dare look up at the source. There's some shuffling near him before a body of someone clad in thin white tee blocked his view of the dirty-white wall, cup clasped in between pale, long fingers. Valerian root tea.
The pale arms in front of him suddenly reached out, snapping him out of his reverie, catching himself on time and avoiding flinching away from the touch. His eyes wildly searches for the face of the person, promptly meeting a pair of dark-brown orbs. The pale hands stopped mid-way, just a few inches away from his. He stares at the dark-brown in front of him, nodding slightly to grant the person permission to touch him. And then there's a cup of warm tea in between his clammy hands.
"It's not your usual tea," he says softly, staring at the liquid in front of him.
"I don't think lavender tea would be a help this time." Jimin can clearly hear the shrug in the tone; his face falling at the mention of the flower.
He misses his alpha friend; it's been a couple of days since the other showed no interest in him. He doesn't have a clue of what he possibly had done wrong, but the other showed obvious disinterest in dealing with him the last time they talked so asking is out of the choices. The heavy feeling of losing someone close to him bites in his heart.
Yoongi pulls a chair in front of Jimin, sitting with his elbows resting on both knees before searching the younger's face with careful eyes. Jimin tries his best not to meet the dark-brown orbs, lithe fingers tightening around the tea cup as he watched the liquid dance inside the porcelain.
"I really don't want to ask what happened especially now that you looked like you're not ready to tell everything," the beta paused, watching the younger's change in expression carefully, looking for some signs akin to discomfort. He found none, but there's a flash of nervousness that crosses the other's eyes; he continues, "But I want you to tell me if you're hurting anywhere, Jimin. You wouldn't be here now sitting inside my house if it's because of a small thing. So tell me how I could help you."
Jimin stays silent for a long while, just staring at his own reflection on the liquid in front of him. He didn't fight the flash of images that suddenly popped in his head like a slideshow; the last time he talked to Taehyung that ended no good, the look on the transferee's face when they have first met, the imposing tone that pierced his ears and chest, the way he scrolled down directly to his alpha friend's contact only to scroll past his name, and how he ended up here in front of Yoongi.
He sighs, closing his eyes.
"I think I'm fine, Yoongi," he finally answers after the long silence, voice quiet and weak, before sipping his tea. It's good.
"You think," Yoongi echoes, drawing the vowels, straightening up on his chair while his eyes are still locked on the other's slouched form. Jimin didn't meet his eyes.
"Yeah, I think," Jimin nods before setting the cup on one of his palms, the other still wrapped around the porcelain to keep his skin warm. At least, that's what he's hoping in his slight nervous state.
Yoongi stares at the boy for a second before nodding his head. "At least you're no longer as pale as shit. Yeah, I think you're fine."
Jimin nods his head in agreement.
He is not.
-----
Jimin found himself staying at Yoongi's coffee shop in every single of his vacant time for the next whole week. It's now Friday and he's alone; sitting on his favorite booth in the shop and sipping his usual drink, pen in hand as he doodles on the back of his Physics notebook after completing his assignment. He's almost static leaving his last class that day when he suddenly remembered that his usual Friday dinner with the Kim brothers has ceased to exist. And now seven in the evening, he's still out to kill time.
He had crossed path with Seokjin a few times in campus for the last five days, greeting each other with a quick hi before giving him an apologetic smile every time he tried asking about Taehyung. "He's fine, Minnie, don't worry. I don't know what happened between you two but I think you should give him a little more time. I'm sure he'll gonna come around anytime soon. I hope you're doing fine yourself. I'm sorry I really couldn't stay to catch up with you, Taehyung is waiting." Before leaving a silent Jimin, defeated; missing the sad, longing eyes boring at the back of the retreating figure. It's almost pathetic, Yoongi's words not his.
And also Jeon. The boy had constantly tried to talk to him a countless times, waiting for him outside the building, running after him outside the campus, sitting beside him on every class they're both attending. The effort was futile though. Jimin isn't the type to just forget and forgive. The rash action Jeon did last time has almost cost his campus' image and reputation. Jimin is not going to be his school mates' toy, he'll make sure of it.
And so he did his best to avoid Jeon. Ignoring the boy when he starts firing apologies, staring at the suspicious apology notes inside his locker every day only to throw in the bin every time, acting like the boy had never existed in the first place. He had gathered the attention of the campus on him again because of this, another series of mock and judgment from both alphas and omegas. Good thing, the last years same treatment had been a good training for him to not be affected anymore.
Except, it's the boy's scent that constantly affects his senses – the smell of strong black coffee and raindrops that gets more intense whenever he shuts Jeon out. As if it was the boy's emotions.
He's pulled out of his own bubble when the chime above the glass door of the shop violently shakes, the loud sound ringing on the whole silent and rather empty coffee shop. He sees Yoongi behind the counter wince, frowning at the two new customers.
Jimin was startled when one of them accidentally tripped on one of the metal leg of a stool, gangly limbs flinging around himself, the metal screeching against the floor and creating unpleasant sound to the ears. The other's company squawks at the scene, hands flying in an attempt to catch the falling boy and save him from face planting the floor.
Jimin winces for so many reasons in a span of 10 seconds, nose scrunching as he watches.
"Kim Namjoon!" yells the savior of the clumsy guy – Kim Namjoon – who still has his arms around the said boy.
Kim Namjoon winces at the loud voice near his left ear, slowly maneuvering his limbs onto a standing position and facing his savior with apologetic, bright and fond expression. Too much mix of expressions on one face. How is that even possible, Jimin wonders silently.
"It's not my fault, Hoseok. This chair is kind of in the way—" said Kim Namjoon tries to explain himself (or rather blame the poor innocent chair) when a loud sound of someone clearing their throat from behind the counter interjects, the clumsy boy looking at the perpetrator and smiling awkwardly, looking back at the said Hoseok. "Okay, I'm sorry I tripped. I didn't see the chair on my way," he finishes instead, sighing.
Hoseok roll his eyes, lips pursed in thin line. "You're so clumsy you should wear warning sign above your head."
"Ey, that's too much." Namjoon chuckles only to stop as soon as he noticed Hoseok's glare on him. He clears his throat awkwardly, small smile stretching the corners of his lips and dimples showing, dipping his head a little to plant a kiss on the other's temple before walking towards the counter to where Yoongi is, who greets Namjoon with an exasperated version of roll eyes. "Hi, Yoongi. How's life?"
"So far so good," Yoongi answers almost immediately, as if he's used to hearing the same greetings from the boy, "until you tripped on that chair and almost caused your mate's heart attack, that is." Namjoon only chuckles, one hand scratching behind his neck.
Jimin snapped his head to the said 'mate' who waves at Yoongi a little, dimple showing as he smiles. Hoseok walks and settles on one of the empty tables pressed on the glass wall near the door. Jimin suspects that it's all for convenience purposes given that his company looks quite naturally clumsy.
He shamelessly lets his eyes linger on Hoseok, watching in slight amusement as pink dusted the high cheekbones by merely looking at his mate Namjoon. Their campus was full of flirty alphas and omegas but there's just a little on the school population who found and sticks with their mates. It's... amusing, really.
"Do you want your regular order?" Jimin heard Yoongi asks from behind the counter, Namjoon confirming the order with a happy nod. Yoongi still looks over Namjoon's shoulder to confirm the other with a smiling Hoseok, who laughs at the grumbling Namjoon for not trusting him with decision making, Yoongi smirking at the still babbling boy.
"You should trust me a little more on this order thingy, Yoongi. We've been friends for like what?" Namjoon complains.
"I've known you for years and that's why," Yoongi answers from behind the coffee machine. Namjoon squawks at the words.
"And another cold Americano for Jungkook."
"Oh. He's arrived?"
"Yeah, last week."
Jimin's hearing immediately tunes out of the conversation the moment he heard the familiar name.
Jungkook?
Jeon Jungkook?