"You're sweating too much, Y/N? Are you okay? You don't feel well." Sungwoon asked, and I was startled that I brought my hands to my forehead, and he was right—I was sweating too much.
I shook my head lightly and nodded at him. We're on our way to go back to the mansion, Shit! I'm so nervous. Jimin texted me a few times, and I tried to respond to his message, but I failed since there's no signal on the island, and I was just hoping that we could just go back quickly.
I promised Jimin that I would wait for him. I was so excited when he told me that he would show me around today, and I'm stupid to forget it now.
When we reached the shore, I immediately grabbed my bag, and the operator helped me. I ran back to the house, and I winced lightly when I felt a sting on my feet. I stopped for a moment, and I saw a sharp stone dig in my feet. I groan and keep walking until I reach the gazebo.
I lifted my feet and grabbed the hanky inside my bag and wrapped it around the wound. I was about to continue walking when I saw Jimin standing a few meters from me. He looked at me with serious and dark eyes, his head titled lightly, and both hands were inside the pocket of his shorts.
"J-jimin.." I nervously called, he sighed, and he walked towards me, lifted me, and carried me.
"I'm sor-
"Shut," he simply said cutting me off. "Wrapped your arm around my neck so you wouldn't fall off," he said, and I pursed my lips together and hesitantly lifted my arms. I sighed and wrapped it around his neck, and he brought me to the veranda. He put me down on the chair, and he went to grab the water hose. He noticed the house helper not from far, and he called it.
"Please ask Jinhee for the first aid kit and tell her to bring Y/N some comfortable slippers," Jimin said. His voice was low and serious, and he looked dangerously pissed. He took the hanky off, and he looked at the wound. I know it wasn't deep since it stopped bleeding, and Jimin opened the hose and cleaned my feet carefully.
"I'm sorry, Jimin," I mumbled. He didn't react; he didn't even lift his gaze to look at me. He kept on cleaning my wound, and when the server came, Jinhee was holding a box of first aid and a pair of comfortable-looking slippers.
Jimin finished cleaning and wrapped up my foot. He looked at me for a second before he looked away and looked at Jinhee.
"Bring Y/N to her room. Make sure she doesn't go out; I'll follow quickly." Jimin told her, and she nodded and looked at me.
"You wait there, okay? We'll talk; I'll bring our dinner there," Jimin said, and he walked away. I sighed; I couldn't even protest as Jimin left the living room to go to the kitchen.
Jinhee Unnie looked at me and helped me up; she guided me up the stairs.
"Sir Jimin is so mad. He was yelling when he heard that you went join Sir Jihyun; he yelled at the boat operators because they're the ones who said you went to come with them," Jinhee said, and now I feel even worse. I should've texted him at least.
"I never saw Sir Jimin say that to anyone, Miss; did he already say he liked you? Or he loves you?" She asked, and she opened the door of my room and helped me sit on the bed, and I looked at her chuckling.
In our situation, I don't think it matters if we say or inform each other about our feelings; we're going to get married anyway.
"He didn't, Jinhee, and it doesn't matter; tell me he likes me or loves me; it is just the same; we're going to end together," I said, and she chuckled lightly and looked at me amusingly.
"Of course it mattered, miss. You're going to be his wife, but in all honesty, I never seen Sir Jimin that worried. He genuinely cares for you, Miss. He is never serious with girls; he just played with them, but ever since you came, you probably knocked some senses on him." She said that, and I chuckled lightly. I don't know if they were just saying that for me to change my perspective on Jimin. If I want to change my impression of him, I need to see it myself, and maybe he does, but I'm not sure.
When I didn't answer, she left my room, and my phone beeped from my bag. I reached for my pouch and took my phone out.
Eunwoo
Yuri Noona and I miss you so much. When will you be back? Yoongi came and asked about you again.
I smiled softly. I miss them too. I wish everything were just normal. I miss my old life, where I just worried about my grades and not like this. I worry about my parents and the lies I've been telling, Jimin and his family finding out the truth, Yoongi's judgement, and Eunwoo and Yuri finding out the truth about who I was. I'm living with so much to worry about, and it's too fucking much.
I typed in my reply and sent it to him.
Me
I miss you too, guys.
Me
I will be back soon, I promise.
Yoongi, did he worry about me that he always comes to the solar nights to ask about me? After all, we hadn't seen each other, and when we did, I was working for his friend as a fucking waitress. Yoongi knew the truth about me except for the fact that I had to get married.
He will understand me, right? I know he will; after all, he knows my situation with my mom. Ah, yes, Mom. I wonder if she tells the same bullshit on Yoongi; did he tell Yoongi that I ran away as well?
A knock snapped me out of my thoughts; the door opened, and I saw Jimin walk in. I remained laying on my bed with heavy sighs.
I wonder what is running through his head; actually, when I came home, I expected him to throw a fit and ask me questions such as
Where have you been?
You're with Jihyun again?
Questions like that, but he didn't.
"I'm sorry, Jimin; I didn't mean to forget our plan. I got excited when your brother came. I'm sorry. I rushed back home when we got back; I didn't even bother to wear my slippers," I softly said, and I felt the bed sink, and Jimin was sitting beside me and looking down at me. Even at this angle, he looks ethereal. His lips were pressed into a thin line, and his eyes spoke hundreds of emotions.
"Are you mad at me?" I asked, my voice small, and he cursed. He pushed me lightly and laid beside me. He grabbed my hand and played with my finger. I flipped over, my cheeks pressed against the mattress, just like Jimin's position.
"I got so worried," he breathed. "Ah fuck, I can't stay mad at you," he said, and I was shocked when he pulled me into his arms. He hugged me, but after a few moments, I relaxed on his touch, and his hand ran through my hair. I closed my eyes as I felt his lips press against my forehead, and he settled on cuddling me in his arms. His scent calms me down, except for the erratic pounding of my heart against my chest.
"Do I make you nervous? I could almost hear your heart beating loudly," he whispered, and my cheeks heated up. I closed my eyes and pinched him softly. He stood up and helped me up. He looked at me, and he licked his lower lips and slowly bit them, and I was just fucking staring at his lips the whole time he did that.
Luckily, Jimin didn't notice as he stood up and grabbed the tray. There's a sandwich and a glass of water and juice with some fruits in a bowl.
"Eat this first. Our dinner will be served here later," he said, and I nodded.
"Thank you," I say softly. Jimin dragged the table to the edge of my bed so I could eat properly, and he just watched me with his infamous serious expression. When he is like this, I always wonder: What things do run through Jimin's head?
"I don't think we can go roaming with that wound in your foot," Jimin voiced out, and I looked at my bandaged foot and looked at him.
"This is a small wound, Jimin; I can manage," I said, and he sighed. He didn't say anything, and I continued eating. He was just looking at me, and I'm so anxious that I had to chew my foot gracefully. When I finished, Jimin took the table away, and he moved to the couch. I followed him, and when I did, he pulled me towards him and got even more nervous. He wrapped an arm around my waist, and he almost lifted me so I could sit on his lap, but luckily he didn't.
"Y/N-ah," he whispered lowly, and I got chills with his voice. His lips slightly brushed against my cheeks, and I was blushing really hard.
Oh my god, what is he doing?
I only hummed, afraid to even speak; I might stutter. I even blushed furiously when he pressed a soft kiss on my temple and pulled me even closer to him. His hands felt warm against my shirt, and it was nice.
"Please don't get hurt anymore," he whispered softly, and my lips curled lightly into a smile.
"I'm so scared to see you get hurt; just the thought of you hurting terrifies me," he said, and I closed my eyes and leaned against his shoulders.
"Please don't get hurt anymore," he repeated, and he intertwined our hands together and pressed even more chaste kisses on my cheeks. I breathed softly and didn't say anything. I'm so contented that it actually terrifies me.