My heart's a mess.

Sprawled out on my bed, I stared up at the white ceiling. It seemed like time had stopped. How long have I been laying here for? It could have been an hour, or a whole day. I wouldn't know.

Flashbacks from my encounter with Tiffany ran through my tortured mind. Our appointment ended up being crashed by both Taehyung and Jimin just as she was about to tell me something about my stalker. The whole thing resulted in one of the most frustrating and awkward moments in my life. By the end of it, my legs could barely hold me. That's how awful it made me feel.

I shouldn't have agreed to meeting up with her. But no, my curiosity had struck again. Had I not gone, I could still be lying in Taehyung's embrace, happy and relaxed in our little bubble.

But at the end, that's what it all was, though. A bubble. A fragile, delicate bubble that could pop any second.

Previously, I had somehow managed to handle Taehyung and Jimin literally fighting over me. I wasn't entirely sure how, but I did.

I came to terms with the idea of Tiffany being Taehyung's ex.

I endured it when someone threw pornographic photographs of me and Taehyung at my door.

I somehow overlooked his nervous meltdown.

I managed to disregard the violent state I had witnessed him in.

But this.

This pregnancy fiasco... was too much.

I couldn't take it anymore.

It was the last drop, and judging by the hammering headache drilling through my skull right now, this was starting to take a toll on my health as well.

I needed to distance myself emotionally from everything, or else I was going to lose it.

My phone kept buzzing on the night stand next to me. I didn't even glance at it. I knew it was another text from Taehyung, but I simply didn't have the energy to get into it again. The texts came one after another and made me feel suffocated. All I needed was some space.

Taehyung:
Y/N, I realize you need some space and I'm going to wait no matter how much time it takes for you to trust me again.

Taehyung:
I miss you so much. The bed feels so cold and empty without you. Call me when you feel ready to talk.

Taehyung:
I can't seem to fall asleep without holding you in my arms all warm and snuggly. Are you asleep? Sweet dreams, princess.

Taehyung:
It's been hell not seeing you and not being able to hold you in my arms. Please call me soon.

Taehyung:
...
Y/N... please.

I rolled over, deciding I could at least inform him that I was alive and well. I imagined he'd be worried, and I really didn't want to come across as too much of a disrespectful bitch, so I started typing quickly.

Me:
I just need some time.

The reply was so immediate I wondered whether he had been clutching on his in his hands, waiting for my text.

Taehyung:
I understand. Be safe.

Scrolling through my notifications, I realized that amongst the many texts from Taehyung, I had missed a single one from someone else.

Jimin:
Don't let that bitch's blabbering get to your head. You're smarter than that.

I'm confused. Should I say thank you to that?

Groaning softly, I tossed my phone aside again. I really wanted an escape from this perplexing disaster my life had turned into. Or just a nice talk with somebody. The problem was, I couldn't really confide in anyone without exposing my relationship, or Taehyung's and Jimin's past with Tiffany for that matter.

The harsh ringing of the door bell managed to draw me back to reality. Huffing as if moving was causing me physical pain, I stood up and started dragging my feet powerlessly towards the front door.

There was really no one I was expecting to visit me today, so this had to be the pizza I had ordered and had been craving for the past hour.

Realizing I had forgotten to grab my wallet, I spun around and shuffled back to my bedroom to look for it, which resulted in another ring on the door bell. Geez, would you chill for a second, pizza boy?

"Sorry," I grumbled bitterly once I yanked the door open, rummaging through my wallet for cash and debating internally on whether to tip the little shit for annoying me.

"You should be," the familiar rumble of the silky baritone made me whip my head up. "Damn, you look like you've been ran over." Jimin tsked, removing his trademark pitch black glasses and hanging them on the v-neck of his shirt.

My jaw tightened and my brows knit together as raw exasperation washed over me, along with the urge to hide away.

"Begone, Satan," I hissed, slamming my hand against the door as hard as I could, in a hurry to close it.

"You know," he said, setting his foot between the door and the door frame and sneaking back in. "According to folklore tales, the Devil used to be a really handsome and charming fella, so this is doing nothing else except flatter me right now." He grinned cunningly.

"If you're feeling flattered by someone not wanting to see you, then I think there's something seriously wrong with you." I said through gritted teeth.

Jimin pursed his lips, eyes scanning my frame for a second before falling down on the large ketchup stain on my shirt.

"What the fuck is this?" He scrunched his nose, taking the pitiful clothing in between two of his fingers as if it were poisonous. "Jesus, woman. I can't recognize you."

"I can wear whatever I want, last time I checked this is my home. And I don't remember inviting the fashion police." I shot back, embarrassment washing over me. Yes, I wasn't looking at my best but then again, I wasn't expecting any guests.

Moreover, I felt like shit, so I suppose you could say my appearance was a reflection of my emotional state.

"When was the last time you had a shower?" Jimin questioned, his lips buckling up and slightly twitching as if he was fighting back a grimace.

"What are you, the hygiene inspector?"

Suddenly his expression softened. "Y/N, when was the last time you left your apartment?"

My shoulders slumped and I puffed my cheeks, feeling abashed. "I don't remember."

He placed a hand over his forehead calmly, setting free a long, heavy sigh and pulling out his cell phone.

My eyes rounded when I heard the sounds of dialing a number.

"Who are you calling?" I croaked, taking a step towards him and catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror to my right as I did so.

Great. I look like the Corpse Bride.

"My cleaning lady," he explained nonchalantly, still not glancing up to look at me. "I can't have you living in your own filth." He gestured around the apartment and I felt a cold shiver run through my spine when I realized I couldn't remember the last time I had cleaned it.

Was it... last year?

The thought only made me realize how out of it I had been the last few months, not even stopping to look at my surroundings, working constantly and stressing over so many things. I was a total mess.

"When did I become a teenager again? You sound like my mom," my sarcastic comeback was overshadowed by the cracking of my voice and I bit my lip anxiously. My defenses slowly started crashing down as I noticed the pity glances Jimin was giving me.

"Come on, put on something that doesn't stink and isn't drenched in grease and let's get out of here," he ushered me, his nose slightly bouncing up as something flashed over his face. Yep, this time he definitely looked disgusted.

"I'm not going anywhere with you," my protests were completely ignored, as expected, as he made his way towards my bedroom. "Excuse me, what the fuck do you think you're doing?" I growled, putting my hands over my hips as I watched him open my wardrobe and start to rummage.

"Looking for something that I like," he simply said, seeming unbothered.

"Can I just say how I feel all kinds of violated right now," I mumbled darkly.

"Wow, your taste in clothes is so boring," he commented shamelessly, earning an outraged stare from me. "Do you ever wear any color other than white, black, and grey?"

"Sometimes I wear dark blue," I sighed before snapping out of it. "Wait a second, hey! You're not allowed to do that!"

"And you're not allowed to wear that," he pulled out my favorite oversized sweater that stretched all the way down to my knees. It was so washed-out, I could barely remember its original color.

"That was a present from my cousin for my... um..." I paused. Was it my 15th, or 16th birthday?

"Doesn't matter, it's going straight to the trash can," Jimin declared, throwing the poor sweater over his shoulder.

"Hey!" I exclaimed, becoming inceasingly upset. "First you barge into my home, now you insult my clothes. You-"

"Oh," he cut me off, throwing me a sly look. "I think I'd enjoy seeing you in these." He pulled out a pair of very tight and very slutty leather pants that I had worn only once on a Halloween party.

I grabbed them from his hands abruptly, my cheeks burning up. "You're invading my privacy," I hissed, angry at myself for how flustered I was getting.

"That's not the only thing getting invaded if I ever see you in them," he smirked. "I'm getting major dominatrix vibes from just picturing you wearing them."

Shameless. Incredibly and unbelievably shameless, this man.

"Do you have any shame?" I asked, growing more and more agitated as my hand kept clasping at the leather pants.

"No," he shrugged, innocent as ever. "Where's the shame in enjoying a beautiful girl's appearance?"

We stared each other down, me increasingly infuriated and him - utterly calm.

"I think these are good enough. At least they're clean," he finally broke the tense silence, throwing me a pair of dark ripped jeans and a black t-shirt. He pointed with his chin towards my hands, giving me an expectant look.

"Aren't you at least going to leave the room while I get dressed?" I gaped at him.

"What, you think I'm gonna see something I haven't seen yet?" He grinned smugly.

Obviously taken aback from the deadly glare I shot him, he finally stepped back."Alright, alright, I'll wait outside."

Once the door was closed, I felt all of my muscles finally relax. Almost robotically, I slid my pajamas down my legs and started putting up the jeans.

My blood ran cold when I heard the door click open and saw Jimin's arrogant face peeping.

"So how about just a small sneak peek-"

"Leave!" I yelled, throwing a pillow in his direction. I couldn't help but overhear him chuckle from behind the door.

***

Remind me again why I'm in Park Jimin's car.

The last thing I remembered was the people from the cleaning company arriving at my home and before I knew it, I was following Jimin outside sheepishly like some kind of a sacrificial lamb.

Does this man practice some kind of mind control?

"I still don't know how you do this," I murmured, throwing him a brief but irritated glance.

"Do what?" he seemed confused, eyebrows furrowing together.

"Make people do what you want them to do."

"Oh, that. I'm simply irresistible," he flashed me a bright smile, smugness still lingering on his expression.

"What do you want from me, Jimin?" I asked bluntly, crossing my arms across my chest.

"What do you mean?"

"What is this? Are we hanging out now? And where are you even taking me?"

He simply shrugged, seemingly nonchalant. "We're just going for a ride while your apartment is being cleaned."

"No," I shook my head, glaring at him suspiciously. "You have some kind of a plan and I'm gonna find out what it is."

The next second, he threw his head back in a fit of genuine laughter, taking me aback. "I don't have any agenda Y/N, stop thinking this is all some kind of big conspiracy," he boggled his eyes at the last words, making his voice sound deeper on purpose.

I let out an audible hmmpf, sinking back into the seat. This definitely wasn't what I imagined when I thought I needed space. This was the exact opposite of space.

"Okay, you want the truth?" Jimin finally caved, sighing deeply. "I was worried. The other day you looked like you were going to be sick and it was scary."

"Why?" I sneered. "Did you by any chance think that I was another girl you got knocked up?"

The words seemingly caught him off guard. I instantly wanted to slap myself. He had displayed some kind of concern for me and I was being harsh.

"I thought I made myself clear by saying that this wasn't my child." He grumbled somberly. Then does that mean it's Taehyung's?

"Okay, let's keep pretending then," I scoffed.

After a brief silence, Jimin pulled up into a drive-through and turned to me. "Are you hungry?"

My stomach's growling answered for me. I winced while he simply laughed, amusement obvious on his face.

"One of my principles is to never let a girl stay hungry," he uttered, stuffing his hand into his pocket and searching for his wallet.

I reached for my purse, but he immediately stopped me. "Absolutely not," he shook his head.

"Please," I sighed, feeling uncomfortable at how many things he had done for me at this point.

"There's no way I'm letting you pay," he stated in an authorative voice and I finally gave up.

Jimin placed our orders, ordering a large menu for me as well.

"How did you know I wanted a large one?" I scoffed a laugh, raising my brows in disbelief.

"You didn't need to say it, I read it in your eyes," he laughed. "I'm just  kidding. I appreciate a girl with a healthy appetite."

"Oh," I hummed, taking a bite of my fries. "So that's a surprise, I didn't know you had any kind of criteria."

"That's not true," he objected.

"I don't believe that."

Out of the corner of my eye, I registered how his grip around the wheel tightened. "No matter what I say to you, you never seem to believe me."

"Consider it an automatic response at this point," I said.

"Okay go ahead now. Ask me everything you want to know and I'll answer with the truth. I swear on my mother's life," he had assumed such a serious expression that my breath hitched in my throat when I glanced over at him.

Taking a deep breath in, my gaze dropped to my lap where I fiddled with my fingers. He kept waiting for me to speak up, a thick silence engulfing us as my mind kept going back to what Tiffany had said about him.

"Why did you sleep with Tiffany?" I did my best for my voice not to contain any type of emotion and just stared at him blankly.

"Why not?" He shrugged, snorting a laugh at his own response. When he noticed my reaction he realized he wasn't really being funny and cleared his throat. "Okay, I guess because... she was an easy fuck."

"Was that it?" I stared back at him dumbfounded.

"What did you expect? To hear that I fell unconditionally and irrevocably in love with her?" He scoffed. "She's an easy fuck. It's as simple as that."

"Please stop it with that word," my face contorted in a grimace.

"What word? Fuck?" He asked and I nodded reluctantly. "Do you prefer make love?" He pronounced the last words mockingly. "Oh look at you all sensitive and romantic. Sex doesn't have to always have something with love. A fuck is just a fuck."

"Is that what you think?" I questioned, holding my breath inadvertently.

"Don't you?" He avoided the question, rich ebony orbs darting at me for a brief second.

My gaze drifted somewhere straight ahead as I nibbled on my lower lip thoughtfully. "I guess the act of having sex is too intimate for me to have it with just anybody." I admitted. "I have to at least have some kind of feelings for the other person in order to enjoy it."

"Sex and love don't always go hand in hand. At least from my experience," he let out a soft groan.

"Yes, but don't you agree that it's better if two people have strong feelings for one another when having sex? It intensifies the passion and enhances the senses, makes it even more amazing when you lose yourselves in one another, like magic. Isn't that better than an easy fuck?"

My gaze flickered towards Jimin. Jaw clenched, he had fallen oddly silent as he gazed straight ahead at the road.

"I wouldn't know," his voice was quiet, so quiet I had to strain my ears in order to hear him.

"How so?" I asked.

"I've never been in love, so I can't really say that I've made love," the smile that his full lips curled was large but his eyes were empty. Hollow. Sad.

"Really?" I couldn't believe my ears. "So you've never had that tingling sensation in your tummy when you're with someone?"

He paused for a while, not really saying anything. Immersed in the conversation, I hadn't noticed he had guided the car to a rest area next to the road and realized it just now when the vehicle smoothly came to a halt.

"I have," he finally said after letting out a long sigh. He almost seemed conflicted, as if he was hesitating to speak his mind. "Actually, I'm having it right now." He peered at me, shifting in his seat to face me.

It took me a while to realize what he had just said.

"Jimin, please-"

"It's not for the first time. I felt it too, that one time when we kissed."

Something tugged at my heart, seeing him look at me like that. The kiss that had opened Pandora's box.

"Jimin, that kiss... it didn't mean anything, you know this right?"

"Is this what you keep telling yourself?" He questioned and a cold shudder ran through my whole body.

I gulped, my brain not capable of producing a single thought as I fell under his scrutiny.

"That thing you said just now, about sex being like magic," he spoke in a small voice. "Is this what you feel like when you're with Taehyung?"

I bit on the inside of my cheek. I had the subtle feeling that Jimin wasn't as indifferent to this conversation as he made himself to be. I didn't want him to feel hurt, but I couldn't lie to him either.

A much more caring and sweet version of him ran through my head, reminding me again of that conversation with Tiffany. Where was he hiding that soft side of his?

"Yes, this is how I feel," I confirmed which he merely sneered at.

"Don't tell me you've started to fall in love with him," he had meant to say the last one in a mocking tone, but it turned out to sound like a plea.

"I am in love with him," I whispered, admitting it to myself for the first time. I shivered. "This is why I'm with him."

Jimin groaned. "Even though you know who he is? You know how fucked up, possessive and sometimes violent he is and you still choose him. Even after you saw him beat up those reporters?"

"He isn't just these things," I said, hating how defensive I sounded. "He's... wait a second." My eyes enlarged, I whipped around to face him. "How did you know about the reporters?"

He stayed silent, gaze casting over the dashboard.

"Jimin," my voice was starting to increase in volume as my fingers slightly trembled. "How did you know about those reporters?"

"It doesn't matter," he grumbled.

"Yes it does!" I exclaimed, shocked. "Did you send them after us?"

"What are you, crazy?" He shot back, but still not denying it.

I glared at him, my chest heaving. It was clear he wasn't going to give me any answer, so I definitely wasn't going to beg.

"I want to go home," I deadpanned.

"You're avoiding the subject," he said. "You can't always run away and hide from your problems."

"I asked you a simple question, and you want to discuss something that is a completely different story-"

"Oh it's a story alright," he cut me off, a low growl erupting through him. "Just not a love story, more like a horror one."

His statement made the blood in my veins freeze. Without having to ask hin a second time, he simply started the engine and put the car into gear.

No words were spoken for the ride back to my place. As if on cue, it started raining, the drops violently hitting the car roof and making the air inside it all the more tense.

Jimin pulled over a little bit down the street my apartment building was. I unbuckled my seatbelt silently, stealing a couple of unnoticeable glances from him.

Face tense, he just gazed straight ahead, not looking at me. My agitation had slowly subsided during the ride and now I wanted to thank him for dropping by my place and making sure I was alright.

But his cold exterior wasn't inviting much conversation, making it seem as if he had retracted inside himself.

"Jimin-" I started in a small voice but he merely raised his hand to cut me off.

"Good night Y/N," he uttered cooly.

Head hanging low, I realized that was my cue to leave.

I hopped out of the car and into the pouring rain, hearing the revving of the engine of Jimin's car in the distance. If anything, tonight had at least given me some clarity on what I really wanted. I had to call Taehyung and talk to him. I was ready.

Breaking into a light sprint, I ran towards the building's entrance, the sight unraveled before me making me halt.

There, on the marble staircase, head and shoulders drooped and clothes completely soaked, sat Taehyung.

I gasped, immediately sauntering towards him.

"Tae!" I exclaimed softly, my mind swimming in bewilderment. What was he doing here? And for how long had he been here? My gaze darted to his trembling chin and his blue lips. He was freezing.

At last, his eyes flashed towards me, sad and lost, the sorrow swimming in them hitting me harder than I expected.

"Y/N... I- I'm so sorry. I fucked up."

author's note:

what do you think is it that Taetae did?