My eyes widened and I stumbled backward in shock, grasping my long hair in confused fistfuls while my breathing heightened with anxiety.

"Jimin. Jimin. Jimin. Hair—my blue. It's Jimin. It's blue. BLUE HAIR BLUE HAIR!" I started manically yelling, unable to control my actions or my thoughts any longer.

The blonde only looked at me with his mouth hanging open. Frozen in shock is if Elsa herself had walked by and put a spell on him.

I couldn't hold myself back any longer. Where my feet were taking me and how bad my hands were trembling were now out of my control.

"Hey—Hey! It's... it's turning orange!" He stuttered.

And sure enough, when I looked down, my hair was as vibrant as an orange sunset, overcoming the glittery strands. It glided its way down from my roots and all the way to the ends of my hair.

"JIMIN. HAIR. ORANGE. JIMIN. ORANGE. JIMIN. HAIR."

I couldn't understand what was going on. All I knew was that I was going on a roller coaster of emotions seeing the amount of change happening to my body all at once.

"Y/n... Y/n... HEY! WATCH OUT!"

Before I even comprehended that my foot stepped on nothing but air, my center of balance was flung out from underneath me and a blood-curdling scream ripped from my lungs.

Did I try to fly? Yes.

Did it work? No.

But I didn't hit the ground as I expected. My bones didn't crush to a million pieces where I could have been dropped practically 15 stories down to my death. So what happened instead?

As my foot slipped over the edge, I felt a warm—no— a hot hand grasp my arm. It was both a hopeful moment for my tangible senses to feel a savior, but at the same time, I wanted him to let go. That hand burned hot like a skillet against my skin. And in the heat of the moment, I wasn't sure which was worse, falling to my death or being burned alive.

I was currently sitting on the desk in safety, inches away from the edge that Jimin had grabbed me away from in the nick of time.

I was curled up into a ball of tears. Hugging my knees as my tears kept dropping and dropping onto the table. Jimin was kneeling right beside me, arm around my shoulder and fingers moving the hair out of my eyes.

"Hey, y/n shhhh. It's— it's okay. You're okay. You don't need to cry. You're safe now."

But I couldn't stop crying. Those words were not reassuring at all considering that I was as small as a pencil, had color-changing hair, almost fell to my doom, and WINGS. I HAVE WINGS!

And what's worse? Jimin, the person I hated most in this entire world, was the only one able to console me and help me calm down.

"Y/n look at me."

I didn't look at him.

"Do you need an English for dummies book too?"

At those words, I lifted my head from my safe spot on my knees. Tears ran down my cheeks, but still, I had enough energy in me to glare at him with murderous intentions.

"There we go! That's the y/n I know!" He teased, but almost immediately, his smile fell and his eyes softened for a second as he sat in front of me. "Listen. I know you're stressed. I know that we've never dealt with this before. The wings, the hair— actually everything, but just... stay strong. Okay?"

I wasn't sure exactly how to respond to this. So instead, I blankly stared back at him, holding my arm to comfort the pain.

Wait a second.

I was burned. Badly.

I looked down to my arm to see a blunt red mark in the shape of a hand where he grabbed me. And I right away scooted away from him with wide eyes.

In response, he curved his eyebrows in confusion, tilting his head with numerous questions running through it like steel machines.

"You... you burned me..." I stuttered out. "How did you do that?"

His confusion only multiplied, "I did what?"

"You burned me!" I yelled again, eyes glistening with tears and nose red from my crying. I took a step back away from him with every step that he took forward.

At that, he stopped and slowly looked down to his hands, pulsating them open and close. "I... I don't know what you mean, they feel fine?"

"I KNOW WHAT I FELT!" I stood my ground and cradled my arm to myself. It still stung like pins and needles poking me from my skin to my bone. There was no other way to explain the painful heartbeat pumping through the hand-shaped wound. He burned me. And that was a fact.

"Y/n I'm serious! There's nothing here! Look, if you say that my hands were that hot, then this plastic pen in my hand would melt! Right?"

Right...

I peered at him from between my maze of hair, watching as he picked up the plastic pen and held it in his hands. But nothing happened.

I expected the plastic to melt and drizzle between his fingers like molten honey, but instead, it stayed solid like a normal pen.

Peculiar. Did I imagine it?

"Maybe... I just grabbed you too hard in the moment?" he let out, dropping the pen and shrugging his shoulders in defeat.

There's no way. But there's also no proof for anything else at the moment.

"Hey! Your hair changed back to its original color!" Jimin smiled, "See? You're okay."

He was right, but also so wrong.

"Yea." I gave him a weak smile.

Our heads turned to see a car pull up onto his huge driveway. A tired blue Honda coughed to a stop and turned off its headlights.

"SHE'S HERE!" We screeched together.

"There's no way to stick this to the front door in time if we have to travel all the way to the back door again!" He began running around in aimless circles, anxiously following the same circular pathway like a confused insect.

"Jimin." He stopped dead in his tracks and looked at me, "The window. How fast can you open that window?"

He didn't answer me, instead flying up into action and trying his best to loosen the handle and prop open the window just an inch. A certain click made our eyes open with excitement and Jimin flew down to grab the note while I attached a piece of tape nearby.

SLAM!

Our hearts dropped when we heard the window close once again, turning around to see the breeze from outside slamming every opportunity and sliver of hope we had left. Jimin anxiously dropped everything in his hands to get the handle open once again.

"She's getting out of the car!" I hurried him from below

"I CAN SEE. AND YOU'RE NOT HELPING."

A click made our ears perk and before the window had time to shut itself close, I lodged a very expensive-looking pen in between the window and window seal, handing the note to Jimin and watching as he perfectly slid through the one-inch crevice and flew towards his extravagant front door.

Jimin was so small, so unnoticeable, that at first glance, all you would assume is that a paper was flying through the wind.

He managed to stick the paper to the front door, flying up and over the maids head, barely grazing her hair as he avoided her lost gaze. Jimin flew back inside through our open window and we watched intently with breaths held while she stopped to stare at our message.

First, a scowl.

Second, a closer look at the last name.

And third, a smile.

She tore the paper from off the door and walked inside with her special key. I quickly wrapped my arms around his torso and he flew to the top edge of the swirling stairs where we were able to see the maid and his little brother interact.

"Hello!" She smiled, "I'll be your babysitter okay?"

Jae looked up from his cartoon with large glassy eyes, suspicion and fear mixing in to ultimately create confusion.

"No, you're not! Y/n is! And I'm supposed to make cookies! See?" The boy held up my baking for dummies book to the exact page where steaming hot cookies were pictured for him.

I softened, a pain in my heart forming for the promise I knew I wasn't able to keep.

"We can make cookies together too okay?" The maid smiled, attempting to gain his trust and establish herself as babysitter for the sake of her paycheck.

"We'll make cookies?" He peered up at her.

She nodded in response, pointing to the cookies once again, "Yes! In fact, let's go make them now."

Jae's eyes lit up and an immediate smile put Jimin and I at ease.

"Well at least we know he's safe," Jimin huffed.

Those words grabbed my attention. Last time we were talking about his brother, he didn't seem to be too fond of helping a helpless child, family or not. Maybe... just maybe there is a soft spot to him somewhere inside.

Very, very deep inside.

"So what now?" I asked, shrugging my shoulders in boredom, "What's our next move?"

"Back to the garden."

"Again?"

He nodded, finally meeting my focused eyes, "That's where it all started, so I'm sure that's where it will all end."

I sighed, looked down to his outstretched hand that silently asked for my permission to be held in his arms once again. His eyes that stared into mine were as blank as a white canvas, any kind of joy or emotion was gone from existence.

"Fine, back to the garden."

—✨—

I feel like this is a very adventurous story. Lol.

Thanks for reading 💙
~ Violet 😇