I stared down at the man before me, locked in a body that just wouldn't quit, tethered to a heart that insisted on beating despite his minimal chances of recovery.
Time seemed to not exist in the gloomy hospital room. I had no idea how long I had been there, sat on a gray armchair, clutching on an extra pillow. Spending time with my father felt sorrowful now, but also kind of serene; we had never been in each other's presence in complete silence.
In the quietness of the room I could hear my own heart beating, aligning its pace with his. Despite everything, despite not even being religious, I found myself praying that he'd wake up. No matter what had went down between us, I just couldn't lose him like that. So suddenly. If there was one thing I realized with certainty, it was that there were still so many things I wanted to say to him, so many things I wanted to do with him.
There was a tiny, almost infinitesimal memory in the back of my mind where he and I would play and build pillow fortresses together. I must have been around four or five years old. Sadly, this was the only happy memory I ever had of him.
Although I was by no chance delusional enough to think that he'd wake up as an entirely different person, I couldn't help but be hopeful. Maybe this was all for the best... maybe we would walk out of this situation and be better. Second chances were never in my repertoire, but now I was desperate to give him one. I never knew in my heart how soft and forgiving I could be; not until now. I never knew how much love I had suppressed inside, love that I desperately wanted to give.
So immersed in my thoughts, I barely heard the door being eased open. Someone's soft footsteps caught my attention.
"Hey... Diane." Jimin's voice was a hoarse whisper. In his right hand he was clutching on a shopping bag.
I never expected to see him here, but I was so exhausted I couldn't even act surprised. Everything was in some sort of a blur; like I could see and hear everything that was happening, but couldn't process it entirely.
"Hey." I mumbled, stretching my legs in front of me.
"I brought you apple juice." He pointed at the shopping bag.
I raised a brow. "Who told you I love apple juice?"
"Quinn did."
I fell silent. At the moment, this was a good enough explanation for me.
Cautiously, he walked over and sat on the armchair next to me. I averted my gaze towards my father vacantly, but I could still see from the corner of my eye how Jimin's eyes darted at my profile repeatedly.
"Do you want me to open it for you?"
"Yes, thank you."
"There," he muttered, placing the small bottle on the table.
"So. I assume you didn't stumble upon this hospital room by accident?"
"Uh, no." he sounded nervous.
"Did Quinn tell you I almost had a meltdown?"
"No," he paused. "She told Jungkook and Jungkook told me."
"Ah," I cracked a small smile. "I see."
His gaze traveled to my father. "What did the doctors say?"
"He might or might not wake up. No one knows for certain."
"I'm sure they're doing everything in their power to help him."
"I think that, too. I just know that sometimes no matter what you do, you can't stop fate from taking someone away."
Jimin hummed thoughtfully, resting back in his chair. Perhaps I was imagining it, but I think that for the first time ever, he didn't know what to say.
I looked over at him. "Nice sweatpants. What happened to your suits?" considering every single time I saw him he was dressed extremely sharp and classy, seeing him in such a casual laid-back attire was new to me.
"I opted for something a bit more comfortable." He mumbled, gracing me with a soft smile.
"It looks good on you." I uttered honestly. Jimin crossed his legs at the ankles, running a hand through his hair.
"What was he like?"
I needed a couple moments to process his question. I was by no chance about to dump my depressing life story on him or burden him with my problems. However, despite it not being my intention, he asked. So I take it he wants to know.
"Angry," I replied blankly. "So angry. And unpredictable. Often jealous. But also brilliantly smart. He worked as an English professor... There might have been times when he wasn't like that, but I can barely remember them."
"Sorry to hear that."
"He was a very heavy drinker," I mumbled, sparing him the details of my father's violent nature. "So yeah, this is why you can call me everything in the book of 'fucked up'."
Jimin released a sharp exhale. When I looked at him, he seemed disbelieving.
"Diane, I would never call you that." He muttered.
My eyes filled with sadness as I stared at him.
"That's because you don't know much about me yet." I croaked, my voice breaking.
"Hey, hey," he leaned forward, extending his arm and placing his palm on top of my thigh. "Don't say that. I know enough."
"No, you don't," I shook my head, lowering my face and letting my hair fall all over it. "Otherwise you wouldn't be here."
"Okay," he licked his lips, a cautious expression on his face. "Tell me then."
Looking up at him, I inhaled sharply. "You- you don't want to know." I said, overcome by a wave of shame.
"Diane, believe me when I tell you this. I'm the last person that would ever judge you. You know I'm not perfect either."
That's not true... you are.
Sighing quietly, I let my head hang over my chest dejectedly. My hesitancy slowly subsided as I steadied my breathing.
"I was fifteen years old," I mumbled. "It was around the time that I started going out, drinking and partying. My father was abusing me and my mother on a daily basis. I had to get out of that house somehow. So it was then that I found alcohol to be my best friend."
"I met this... person," I choked back a small whimper. "A mutual friend introduced us. He was a lot older than me. Eventually we started going out. I had never been on a date before... to me, it felt like magic. Like it was meant to be. I was so head over heels for him. In my eyes, he was perfect. And because I was still so young and didn't know many things, he seemed so wise to me. He gave me so many gifts. I never lived in luxury, so I admit all that glitter kind of attracted me."
"We established an emotional connection very quickly. I felt safe with him, something I had never felt at home. The only problem was, he lived out of town but he'd visit three or four times a month. Never on a weekend and never on a holiday. It wasn't rare that he would ignore my calls or answer my texts, like, two or three hours later. He was always busy. It saddened me that he didn't have much time for me, but I kept telling myself that he was a grown man with a job."
I paused and we sank into a tense silence. "I was very young so naturally, I was a virgin. I had only went as far as making out with someone. I never knew what 'grooming' meant back then... he kept saying stuff to me, persuading me to have intercourse with him, and I... I... I desperately wanted to keep his interest, so I..." I broke into tears, the sobs erupting through my mouth one after the other.
"Oh my God... Diane." I couldn't see Jimin's face but based on his voice alone, he seemed distressed. As expected, my story disgusted and appalled him.
"It was never forceful," I clarified hurriedly. "Thankfully. The whole mess burst into flames when someone reported us. I was underage, so the police and the school got involved, teachers, counselors... everyone. All of a sudden, I was in the center of all this attention and not in a good way. Ultimately he got off by bribing some policemen on a higher level. His life barely changed and mine was entirely derailed. Everyone found out about it, they wrote in the newspapers about it. People called me names, slut-shamed and bullied me. It got so bad that in the end I had to transfer schools."
I looked over at him with heavy eyes. My heart halted in my ribcage when I saw him so tense, grasping onto my every word.
"It's okay, I was fully aware that you'd look at me differently after finding out about this. Just like the rest of them."
"For heaven's sake, Diane, what are you even saying?" Jimin seethed, his incensed brown orbs fixated on me. "None of this was your fault. None of it! If anything, you're the victim in this situation!"
"See, that's the problem," I sighed with exasperation. "I'm not. I was just... stupid. Reckless. I deserve all of this."
"You were a child!" Jimin exclaimed in a hushed voice. "You can't blame yourself about this! I can't sit here and listen to you blame yourself!"
"I was so accepting of all the attention, the promises, the gifts. I should have seen it coming, how could I be so delusional. I was practically asking for it..."
"Jesus Christ!" Jimin snapped, standing up abruptly and almost kicking the chair back.
He walked over to me, standing right in front of me and falling down to his knees.
"Listen to me. I don't know who filled your head with all this bullshit, but you are absolutely not to blame here. Someone abused and violated your trust. That's on them. You were vulnerable and unprotected and nobody noticed. The whole thing is making me so mad I'm seeing red. And I am trying so hard right now not to yell profanities out loud, find that scumbag's address, trash his place and fucking carve his eyeballs out for ever hurting you like that."
Cold chills ran down my spine as I stared at him, bewildered.
Gently, Jimin took my face in his palms. My mouth popped open in surprise and I wrapped my fingers around his wrists softly.
"As long as I am here, no one can hurt you. Not anymore."
a/n:
I hope you're well and these updates are making quarantine time a little bit better ❤💕🌟