055
It was late afternoon by the time jimin had arrived back home. he'd been antsy the entire drive back, the duration of his trip having seemed to stretch beyond possible time. his phone was clutched tightly in his palms, which were clammy in anticipation. his leg was bouncing up and down impatiently from where he sat in the back seat, his eyes glued to the window in search for his street.
it wasn't too late to go to the police station now, jimin chanted like a mantra in his head. he'd woken up to a surprise emergency involving his grandparents.
his grandmother had been experiencing pain in her hip for a while now, but she'd fallen in her home early this morning. she was taken to the hospital, but the expenses and concerns were dealt specifically between jimin's parents. fortunately, everything had been settled, which abled them to leave before the day faded to night.
jimin's mother had complained for the first couple of minutes after their departure from the hospital. she'd wanted to stay with her mom for a while longer to make sure she was okay, however her schedule prohibited her from doing so. yet, it wasn't as if they'd just left the woman lying in a hospital bed with her poor husband. no, jimin's aunt and uncle had shown up, convincing his mother that they had the rest taken care of and would look after his injured grandmother.
the car turning down a new road snapped jimin from his hazy reverie and he honed in on his current surroundings with identification.
they hadn't even pulled into the driveway by the time jimin's hand was securely wrapped around the door handle and housing the energy to push it open. even in his apparent hurry, his parents hadn't noticed any of it. they were too absorbed in today's earlier events to realize how increasingly strange their son had been acting.
jimin always thanked the universe for allowing his parents to be just a bit too dense and a bit too busy to recognize what was ever going on with him. he'd been able to sneak boys in his house, sneak out to visit a girl's house, and as of now, attain a stalker. in itself, it was a blessing prone to curses.
however, with it's negatives came min yoongi. yoongi who wasn't so bad, yoongi who made jimin's stomach stir and heart stammer. yoongi who made jimin excited even when all he did was smile.
the car stopped idling and jimin scrambled out of his seat, his footing nearly catching on the underside. "I really have to pee," he convincingly barked out to his father who shot him a wide-eyed look of incredulity. for extra measure, jimin placed his hands in between his legs and squeezed his thighs together, balancing his weight from foot-to-foot in a teetering dance.
"honey, you know he has a small bladder," his mom said with dramatic exasperation, gripping onto her husbands tricep with a quick shake.
forgetting his brief situation of impromptu acting, jimin shot his mother a nasty look, but she hadn't seen it (which he was hoping for). his parents got out of the car, then, the house keys being tossed into jimin's hands so he could unlock the door.
jimin fumbled a couple of times, spewing swears under his breath at his 'useless' fingers.
there was no time between jimin finally unlocking the door and him bee-lining towards his bathroom down the hall. maybe in his fit of anticipation, he worked up the need to actually have to use the bathroom. perhaps he really did have a small bladder.
nevertheless, he washed up soon after and shot yoongi a few texts, frowning in annoyance that he hadn't responded to the messages that were sent earlier.
baby
i'm home now!!
(>0///0)>
i'll gather what I need
and come by your place
so we can talk to taehyung's dad
within his time of living in this new house, jimin worried for the health of his heart quite often. either stopping in dread or speeding up in nervousness, the rate at which his heart beat lately was concerning.
he waited from where he stood in the bathroom for yoongi's reply, since he could see that the older had read what he had sent out. he wiggled his toes atop the plush bathmat placed in front of his sink, staring at is phone, willing an incoming text to appear. and when it did, the device vibrating a numb sensation into his hands, he forced down a squeal.
cool.
I want to talk.
and jimin's heart started up again, both in dread and anxiousness. a call from his mother from outside the bathroom door had him swiftly pocketing his phone. opening the door, jimin gave her a charming smile, clicking off the light and stepping into the hall. he followed her down the hall, glancing at his father briefly before speaking.
"so, yoongi invited me to dinner."
yet another lie. it came just as easily as all the previous ones had, his features no longer giving away his untruthfulness the way they had back in middle school when he wanted to go the beach instead of the library.
"did he now?" jimin's father hummed, gaze settled heavily on jimin's person. "yesterday, he'd asked, and I told him i'd check with my parents first," jimin shrugged, "which is kind of embarrassing, if you ask me. i'm eighteen and I have to ask for permission to eat with a friend." he'd never voiced as such out loud before—at least not to the faces of his parents.
he'd always sweetly agreed to the outrageous limitations his father set up, sending helpless looks his mother's way. there'd been a shift in their dynamic, however, one his parents hadn't been aware of. he had become so attuned to the way his family attempted to shelter parts of the world from his viewing that he had no courage to personally speak up about it
instead, he rebelled in secret; lived in secret. they had no idea who their son truly was, and a small part of him thought they didn't deserve to know.
the quietness that swarmed between them like crackling electricity died out at the light sound of a scoff. "you know exactly why." taemin, of course. "and it's fine, we trust yoongi. so enjoy your dinner and actually pick up my calls this time."
jimin's neck flushed a peach color under his skin. he had fleeting visions of why he hadn't noticed his phone ringing when out with yoongi that one time.
the time the older had bought a two-hundred dollar malt. the time jimin had the pretty boy squirming underneath him as he crooned out licentious things under his breath.
a meek bubble of laughter passed from jimin's lips. not wanting to stay in the strange atmosphere of the living room any longer, he pivoted on the ball of his foot and ventured towards his bedroom.
whenever closing in on the room, the hairs on his arm and neck stood. he'd never completely get over coming home from after spending a blissful night with his lover to a room drenched in murder and blood and malevolence. twisting his fingers and scrapping his nails dully against his palm, an idiosyncrasy jimin couldn't help when he was panicked, he pushed open the door and held his breath. he always felt as if he could still smell the lingering stench of slaughter clinging to his walls and collecting at his baseboards.
it was like a looming presence was constantly smogging up the air in his room, coiling at the low ceiling and tightening the passageway to his lungs. in short, he felt choked.
jimin stared dumbly at the slotted space under his bed, willing his feet to shuffle forward. he didn't want to peer underneath there though, knowing exactly which monsters laid in the darkness. but his knees were kissing the wood and soon enough he was crouched low enough to where his face brushed the fibers of the rug that extended from under his night table.
jimin blindly shoved his hand under his bed in search for both the burner phone and the cardboard box. he wanted to waste no more time, anticipating going to the station with yoongi. he just wanted to get all of this over with already.
sliding the box from out of its hiding place, he then blindly felt around for the black phone he discarded. it was stupid of him, he knew. if anything disastrous had happened from ignoring the stalker, he'd have to reap the repercussions. after about a few minutes of coming up empty handed, the familiar but never welcomed nausea of panic surged in jimin.
he shone his phone's flashlight under his bed and was greeted by dust bunnies and cobwebs. he paled.
it was then that jimin hastily flung back the flaps of the cardboard box, finding nothing of what he left inside. everything was gone save for one thing: a note that hadn't been there before.
you elevate my consciousness, park jimin, reminding me constantly to always be a step ahead of you.
oh mochi, darling, how precious you are. as if you could go to the police without evidence of my existence.
and i thank you sincerely for keeping my keychain safe.
his senses kicked in full force at the last line, standing so quickly, his legs almost gave out from beneath him. he ungraciously scampered towards his desk, unlocking the last cabinet and digging around for the red and golden chained nun-chucks figurine.
he tore his room apart looking for any ounce of evidence he could bring to the officers at the station, but after a half hour of fruitless searching, jimin collapsed to his knees. his shins painfully scraping against the flooring beneath him didn't amount to what he felt swarm at the core of his being.
he pushed himself up his feet and slammed the door to his room back on it's hinges. the violence of the action rattled the photo frames on the wall and the sound reverberated down the hall.
his mother looked up in shock at his fuming appearance bounding out from the corridor, his father sitting up straighter in his seat.
"jimin—!" he wasn't sure who had worriedly called after him, as his hearing had been muffled and his head unable to comprehend anything other than kill.
he'd stormed out of the house, slamming the door shut behind him. the tears accumulating in his eyes and leaving searing tracks down his cheeks were those of anger. his teeth were bared and jaw clenched in the most pure form of hatred to ever be presented in a human being. he couldn't feel anything. there was no sense of recognition of feet slamming against pavement, no recognition of thought. jimin was consumed by hatred.
his knuckles punded into the wood of yoongi's front door rather than the simple, gentle rap he'd usually give.
the setting sun blazed on jimin's warm skin like hell fire, and when yoongi opened the door, he was faced by a version of jimin he hadn't yet met.
the orange sky and deep hue of the sun made jimin's dark eyes burn with an unhinged intensity and his wind tousled hair made the tresses of onyx curl into wisps at the ends. jimin's lips that were pulled into a taught sneer curled around his words, his serpentine tongue hissing out syllabeles yoongi was too taken aback to grasp.
haven't have heard a word, yoongi, still stunned, barely moved as jimin shoved by and forced his way into the house.
"where's your gun? jimin bit out in his busan accent, the roughness in his tone revitalizing yoongi.
the blond had a sinking feeling they weren't going to the police station today.
_____
hello guys!! i'm kinda of back in my groove of writing again.
i hope you all enjoyed this chapter!! with this said and where we are in the story now, i think it's safe to say this will be ending soon.
so far: what are you theories? when i read the comments, the suspicions of the stalker could be are pretty well spread out, but no one really suspects taehyung or hoseok which tickles me. but i'm not giving anything of anyone away.
i DO have someone in mind for who the culprit(s) is/are, but i could always mess around and make it someone else.
1 other question: what do you think yoongi wanted to talk to jimin about?
also. nut.