June 11, 2019
Tuesday

(Y/N) carefully rolled herself off Jimin's bed, making sure to not wake the sleeping male. One moment he's slipping his digits past her entrance all while kissing her with passion and vexation, creating a dangerous mixture of emotions she couldn't fathom and the next, she's sleeping. How could she fall asleep so easily? Maybe it was the tiredness of her body, but in all... (Y/N) doesn't know.

But she woke up faster than she slept.

During in slumber, her skin boiled far hotter than a newly cooked stew; the sensation of the toxins of her past resurfaced in the present through blistering bubbles. She couldn't take it; she found it extremely difficult to stay asleep.

(Y/N) exhales a soft sigh as she witnesses Jimin sleeping still. The only movement was the slight rise and fall of his chest. It's hard to visualize that this is the same boy that terrorize any living being, dragging them to their death beds with ease. In sleep... he's angelic. His face flushed red, cute boop-able nose making snuffling noises as he breathed.

Realizing that it was time to leave to execute the tasks she delayed, the (h/c) headed female grabbed her necessities before exiting the room without disturbing Jimin.

"(Y/N)..." he whispers, his hands searching for warmth. Jimin shifts to his side, and after patting an empty space for a couple of seconds, the heavy eyelids that confined his vision to darkness shot open upon realizing the woman he yearns for disappeared from his touch. "(Y/N)?!?"

"She left," Mrs. Park sits on the cough that resides in front of his bed, her legs crossed, while holding tea cup containing a classic red wine in her hand. Her face seems cold as resentment fumes out from her eyes. She wasn't that kind, tender woman a few days ago with a compassionate smile plastering her plastic face.

Her moods changed into something malicious, something more dangerous than her son could ever generate when he's mad.

"E-Eomm—"

"What did you do to the girl?" She questioned, her voice streaking with venom. The wine stained her lips, creating dark hues of red at the inner parts of her lips. Mrs. Park squinted at him through hardened eyes; every muscle in her face was tense and without a word she communicated intense mistrust and anger. "I've known her ever since she was little, Park Jimin. I've known her longer than I've known you."

Jimin tensed at her last sentence. He clenched his fists into a tight ball. "I've done nothing to he—"

SLAP!

"Liar," Mrs. Park spat viciously. "Haven't I told you this already Jimin? No one can lie to me because if they do... I can easily compel them to confess or perform any tasks I order. You remember don't you? ...the day when the Kim's brought you in because you were assigned to assassinate Seokjin. Min Yoongi failed to tame you... but..."

The mother smirks as she pulls a tiny spoon from her pocket. Jimin recoils back, watching his kin clinging the object against her tea cup. The cling-clanging sound was shrill, jangling his nerves each time she repeats her movements; it snapped him into a stupor, trapping Jimin in a psychosis as if the noise had hardwired his brain to listen to his mother's commands without any of his will.

"I've tamed you through hypnosis by calming your beast side... when the Kims brought you in... I thought that I would have the son that was taken away from me, but instead, I received a monster who wants nothing but blood." Mrs. Park perched Jimin, the frail puppet, down his bed. "Long story short, since you're already aware of this information, I've worked as an interrogator for the police. In that time, I discovered a way to condition people by tapping into their brain with a single tap on my teacup. I've done to you... and also (Y/N)."

"What do you mean you've done that to (Y/N)?!" Jimin snapped, questions flying in and out of his head. "In a matter of fact, why are you so concerned if I do something to that bitch?!"

"Why? Why am I so concerned?" She repeated his words with a snarl look in her face. Mrs. Park got a hold of Jimin's cheeks, squeezing it so hard that the tip of her sharpened nails dug inside of his skin. Jimin bled and his mother couldn't care less. "Because I know how weak she could get out there. I've seen her past and I was the one who erased them."

"Erased?"

"I helped her... twice. The first time, I encountered her through an investigation scene. She was 7. The same age you were taken away from me. Parents murdered in front of her eyes, trauma was inevitable. I've erased her memories, but hypnosis comes different for all people. They can break or it won't become effective if used multiple times in one person. Luckily for you, it seems your hypnosis hasn't broken, but for her, a single strand of stress can bring all of those back... unlucky for (Y/N), it did come back."

"W-Was that the second time?" Whimpers escapes his lips from the nails of his mother continuing to dive deeper his skin.

"Yes," his mother relieves him off her grip, "her ex-boyfriend. He abused and utterly broke her. I discovered (Y/N) bleeding to death near our summer home in the forest; her ex-boyfriend attempted murder for the stupidest reason. I was told she managed to escape— barely alive— was because of her friend, Lucas. No one knows where he is now."

Jimin truly wanted to sympathize (Y/N)'s situation yet he couldn't help but think of his mother being unfair. Unfair. That's what Mrs. Park is.

Why is she being considerate to someone when her son, bonded by blood, experienced the same trauma (Y/N) he had? Jimin, taken at such a young age away from his parents, forced to kill and if not, he had to suffer extreme consequences, and what does he get? A disgusted scowl from his mother the moment they reunited after all these years. Realizing that the innocent, loving son had disappeared and is replaced by a vile monster, Mrs. Park dismissed his case as if it's another day at work she's forced to do. Perhaps the reason of Mrs. Park's instinct of protecting (Y/N) was because she saw her young son in her... the frail kind, not the savage kind.

Only when Jimin acted the way she expected him to act, an obedient little puppy, was where she gave him attention— the love of a mother.

"(Y/N) needs to get out of this house," Mrs. Park finalized. "She needs to get out of here. She can come with me."

"She won't go anywhere with yo-" a reverberating clang of a spoon against the teacup sealed his mouth shut.

Mrs. Park stared into Jimin's eyes. He was certain that she was trying to hide something— that there was a deeper meaning to (Y/N)'s story. She contorted her lips into an awkward, toothy smile, but her cheeks were not so compromising. Beneath her pearl white teeth lies a manipulating woman subjugating Jimin to follow her schemes by tapping to his desires.

"Jimin... she reminds me of you." Mrs. Park reaches into her son's hands, holding it tightly as tears forms around her eyes. "My precious, precious son, please listen to your dear mother. Loosing her is like loosing you my son. We have to find a way. She can be ours Jimin. I knew by the way you looked at her, you love her. You love her don't you Jimin? My precious son, it's okay to tell your Umma your feelings!"

Jimin averted his gaze, crescent moons embedding his palm from the clenching pressure of his nails. Mrs. Park's smile fell lifelessly, allowing her face to return to its usual cold hard hawk.

'Hypnosis comes different for all people. They can break or it won't become effective if used multiple times in one person.'

Break.

He wants to break free from his mother's hands. Smoldering rancour hisses through body like a deathly toxin, screeching a demanded release in the form of unwanted violence.

'To hell with Eomma. To hell with everything about her!'

A volcano, seething with molten rock and temperatures reaching over two-thousand Fahrenheit (one-thousand Celsius), erupted from his chest; fury sweeping off him through ferocious waves.

The cantankerous male let the wrath engulf him as he breaks the chains, allowing the beast get loose.

Sweat drenches Mrs. Park's skin, eyes throbbing from the tears soaking her cheeks, the ringing of Jimin's footsteps vibrated in her ears, and the thumping of her heart against her chest drove her insane. Again and again, she tried to trap him back to hypnosis, but her efforts came to no avail. He broke free. And there's no way in fucking hell he would let her control him again.

Fear tortures her guts, churning her stomach in tensed cramps. It swallows her conscience, knocking all other thoughts aside as her son wrap his digits around her throat. Jimin growls.

"You are no family to me. You're only a dead bitch waiting to be put in a fucking casket."

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Whimpers.

No, it wasn't whimpers what (Y/N) is hearing... it's full on wailing, crying hysterically and it all originated from the kitchen.

She peaks her head out the doorframe, seeing Jungkook searching for an object for support. The sobs that escaped his lips were stifled at first as he attempted to hide his grief, then overcome by the wave of his emotions, he shattered down entirely. His face expressed desperation as his nose itches red, eyes bloodshot red.

"Why can't I taste anything? Why can't I taste anything??" He cried.

He had it. He tasted the comforts of food, but it disappeared. It vanished when (Y/N) was away. He wants (Y/N). He needs (Y/N). She's the only one who could give him the colors of life.

And speak of the devil, the female rushes beside him, pulling Jungkook out of his misery into a deep, comforting hug. She ran her hands through Jungkook's hair to calm him down; clutching to (Y/N)'s tightly, his cries only increased in volume.

"Kookie what's wrong?" She asks in a hushed tone. "Why are you cryi—"

He can't taste anything.

He bloody can't taste anything.

But that isn't just it.

Jungkook's body ached, cheeks burning with the flush of a sickness. He would've continue crying, but there was no strength in his voice left, just a whisper. "N-Noona... please stay with me..." his breathe quivered in short, quick gasps every time he inhaled, his lungs having no choice but to painfully and rigidly take in the chilled air around him. Jungkook couldn't seem to stop shaking either.

"Noona..." he whimpers, feebly rubbing his hands through (Y/N)'s skin in a sickly aim to cease the unsettling chill that ran down his spine and made his skin crawl revoltingly.

"Kookie?" (Y/N) gently taps his cheeks. He isn't responding. "I'll stay with you. Just be okay, alright? Kooki— someone... someone please help! HELP!"

"What's with all the ruckus about?! Can a man work peacefu— dear god!" Seokjin gasps, hands placing itself on top of his chest to add to his dramatic flare. Jungkook is red, incredibly red. And (Y/N)... a crying mess.

"Seokjin please! Help! I don't know what happened!"

Avoiding his usual snarky/self-indulgent comments, considering that this is a state of emergency, Seokjin sprang to action. After careful evaluations of Jungkook's condition, the prideful doctor ordered (Y/N) to help him carry Jungkook to his personal office— which (Y/N) wasn't even surprised that he has one bearing in mind that his mansion is huge.

The two carefully set Jungkook down on Seokjin's elongated couch hugging the wall. Even under Jungkook's clothes he was radiating heat like a brick right out of the oven. They could hear his coughing and wheezing as it was the only noise bearing the room; Seokjin worked diligently and effectively, giving the proper medication and treatment Jungkook needed right off the bat.

"(Y/N) get my stethoscope, it's in my desk drawer, top right," he directed.

If Seokjin isn't around boasting or shoving his ego up (Y/N)'s face, she actually admired his line of work. Every action he took was precise and purposeful; (Y/N) can relax upon seeing his caring and soulful look on his face. He looked genuine when caring for his younger friends, eyes full of passion for his job.

Handing the stethoscope Seokjin needed, (Y/N) let her eyes wonder around the exterior of his office. Unlike Namjoon's, whose office is a mess— a well kept mess surprisingly, Seokjin's is neat. Nothing is out of place. Documents are sorted in boxes.

But something off caught her eyes.

A picture wooden picture frame facing down lies on his desk unattended. It looked out of place compared to the rest of the exquisite furniture that perfectly matched the owner's personality. Devoid from the outside world and stuck with the questions of what type of picture the frame could be holding, (Y/N) took notice of Seokjin's calling for her attention.

"(Y/N), are you listening to me? It's not the time to wonder off!" Seokjin nudges her shoulder.

"Right... I apologize. Is there anything else I can do to help? Is Jungkook alright?"

He snickers. "Of course he is. You're looking at the most qualified doctor here. With my hands I can cure anyon— woman get your head out of the clouds and stop dozing off!"

"I—"

Seokjin turns his head to the object that seems to be more important than him. "You want to know what that is, huh?" Sadness laces his voice. "Well you're not going to know what it is so stop wondering."

"Here," Seokjin sighs as he hands over a lollipop, "take it."

"A lollipop?"

"Just take it. Lollipops are good to help improve your mood, decrease your stress, and works as a good pain blocker. With all your crying and worrying, you need it." The male slightly blushes. "D-Don't take this the wrong way. I'm simply doing this because I care for my work—"

"Thank you, Master Seokjin," (Y/N) smiles, happily accepting the sweet treat. "You did an amazing work today."

Duh-dum duh-dum duh dam

"I always work amazingly... peasant," he said as an afterthought as his heart pounded at his chest from her compliment.

He can't comprehend the reason of the loud beating of his pulse banging against his temple the longer he looked at (Y/N). Establishing his self-worth above (Y/N)'s, convincing himself that she's another lowly being trying to kiss his ass due to his greatness, Seokjin managed to turn back to his subconscious thoughts full of praises.

"Seokjin... (Y/N). Just call me Seokjin."

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A/N

Completely unrelated, but in my other books like the Hostess, I showed my outfits so might as well continue the tradition to this one. A Kookie inspired look— I had this pic of a while lol.

—France💛💛