[Disclaimer: 18+ content near the end of this chapter, I'll have a mini warning just before it happens. That way, those who don't want to read it are aware when it happens]

Act II, Chapter Four

"We accept the love we think we deserve."' - Stephen Chbosky, The Perks of Being a Wallflower

. . .

A Thriller, the movie made me jump a few times. Each time I did, Jimin chuckled. His hand let mine go, while mine remained lingering on his lap. It was awkward at first, both of us looking at the other. Then, he smiled knowingly at me and put his arm around my seat. I didn't know what to take from that. If it was for show, thinking Deities might be in the theatre watching, or if it was for his own being and pleasure.

I hoped it was the latter as I sunk into his side, lifting the theatre seat's armrest away from separating our bodies. I tried not revisiting the emotions I felt, shivering from his fingers on my shoulders as my head leaned into his neck.

We didn't look at each other when close. I jumped in his arms, and he laughed into my hair. There was a moment I felt lips at the top of my hair, I couldn't figure out if he kissed my head or not. Possibly playing it up for an audience I didn't see? Whatever it was, I prayed he stopped. He and his lips weakened my gut, making me think thoughts I didn't want to envision.

When the movie ended and credits graced the screen, Jimin's hand squeezed my shoulder. He pulled my attention to his eyes in the dark. Eyed me up and down, checking out every ounce of my t-shirt and how he hugged my body, to the way my knees caved into his side. It was impossible to read him. Did he feel anything when this close to me? Was this easy and boring for him? What's going on inside his head?

I blushed and thanked the darkness of the theatre when Jimin's lips inched close to mine. He contemplated it, asking me for permission with his gaze. I pursed my lips, pulling away. I kissed his cheek, then his jaw. Slowly inching down to his neck in a hope that a slow kiss just below his ear would suffice for a good enough show.

As I pulled back from his fresh scent, feeling the warmth of his neck, I caught his eyes. He no longer looked at me, chest fluttering at a stronger speed. In awe, my mouth almost opened at the obvious effect I had on the man physically. Almost as if I dreamt it, a second later he was back. Bored and sure of himself, in control. He kissed my cheek, then my jaw, and inched towards my ear where he breathed.

"There's one in the second row up from the screen. Don't look."

I didn't, either consumed by his lips full and bright on the curve of my collarbone. Hand on Jimin's jeans, I pinched the fabric lightly with my fingers, pushing down any hint of moan that begged to surface.

It was a surprise when I didn't break first. He did. My pinky nudged the surface of his jeans I dared too close to. Jimin's breath hitched, the trail of his lips stopping to look at me in the dark.

"Too much?"

I nodded. My hand back to my lap and eyes averted forward. My heart hammered in my chest and I prayed the credit music drowned it out.

Jimin kissed my cheek and shielded me from any eyes that may be watching us. He held the outer end of my thigh, moving his fingers up and down. It was a way to comfort me. I noticed he did the same to my back when I woke up in his arms after he misspoke and I cried the day of the first tulip.

"A few minutes more." Jimin smiled. It was one I wasn't familiar with, one of genuine kindness and...concern for me? "We're going to dinner next and when we do, there's more guarantee we'll lose them. More security, yeah?"

"Okay." I stared at his lips. Too close.

His forehead crinkled. "What's wrong?"

"Sorry. Can you move back a little."

Jimin was caught off guard at that for a moment. Pursing his lips with a nod, he did, loosening his hold on me and returning to a proper seated position. We watched the rest of the credits in silence.

The lights brightened the room and people started to get up to leave. Jimin got up first, and as I had the courage to look at him, there was a smile he held back, hiding it. What was he thinking?

I took his hand when he put it out, taking me to our next stop.

. . .

Dinner.

Sitting across from him allowed me to feel a sense of security within myself, forget the security away from the Deities. Without his hands on me, able to hear my own voice in and outside my head allowed for a great conversation with the man before me. He was so similar yet so different from the man I thought I knew well in high school.

Age and experiences came with growth. I could see it in his voice, how he handled himself, and how he spoke to me or the surrounding waiters. Gentle, sweet, and respectful with everyone he crossed until they gave him a reason for any trouble. If high school Mia were to fall for the man Jimin was today, it would've made more sense. Or maybe he was always this way and I never got to see it? All I noticed was the bad at the end. I wonder why.

"You do that a lot."

I blinked, looking over at the man who smiled into his bite. "Sorry?"

He mimicked my eyes and how they moved with every zone out. Now I was glad I was across the table from him for different reasons, he was too far to hit. "Stop it. I don't mean to zone out, what were you saying?"

"What were you thinking about?"

I nibbled on the inside of my cheek. Seeing the view of his face inviting, chilled, and eating without a thought or scare in the world. I debated whether to hold back what I thought.

"Just thinking about us, the last impressions we left on each other." Then I took a bite of my own food, loving the taste of Korean barbecue plastered around the table in various dishes. It was Jimin's favourite place, so I trusted his decision, and he didn't disappoint.

"What about it?" Jimin's chewing slowed.

I smiled, shrugging. "You've grown quite a lot."

"I've learned to manage my emotions a little better, communicate better." He paused. Slurping soup before carrying on. "Something a lot of little boys need to teach themselves as they grow into men. That's if they're ready to make that change for themselves. It's a shame really."

"Accountability. Very brave of you." We both didn't look at each other when I said 'brave', stuffing ourselves with food calling for attention at our booth.

"I'm sorry, truly." Voice low, he tilted his neck down to hold my gaze. "What I said had nothing to do with you, it was a response to being uncomfortable. You got me out of my shell that night... I shared things I wouldn't have with anyone else and it scared me."

"I was able to understand that later on, when I got less angry about the situation." I reached for some soup as well. "I reacted defensively myself. There's no part of me that wished for you to live a life miserably."

"I know you didn't. You liked me too much to suddenly pretend you didn't care. I shouldn't have taken advantage of that. We were kids." His eyes didn't meet mine as he said such words out in the open, nonchalantly. Without a stutter, without a blush. Jimin truly was a mystery.

I nodded, watching the way his neck bobbed at each swallow. He noticed my staring and I blinked away, focusing on the plates before me.

"What exactly happened after that? When I left?"

Jimin did a side-smile. "Look who's being the observer now."

I started my apology but he winked at me. Jimin talked about his initiation with the Creds. It happened the day before Jordan's party, while everyone prepared for graduation and moving on with their lives, so did Jimin. Like some who join the military as their only option, Jimin found an illegitimate route and joined Helloway Street's gang, the Creds.

The tattoo was fresh on his knuckles the night of Jordan's party and that's why it was bandaged. He was already jumped in, too late to back out.

Jimin told me about the 30k and his Mom's ex threatening them for two more years before dying. The ex killed himself once he realized the threats weren't working for Jimin's Mom, just before Jimin transferred about 60k into the dealer's debt pool with other clients. The police got hold of the debt pool and returned each transaction, giving Jimin his 60k back. "It was a day of liberation, truly. I didn't care one bit that he was dead. Good riddance," he said.

It was then Jimin's tone of voice, his chilled attitude and overall 'I don't give a fuck' attitude was true and not a fake. He was able to speak of crushes from high school so freely because he's been through and seen much worse. High school and the events that make me shake or blush don't matter to him. Jimin's been through hell and back, and sits before me, a girl inexperienced in the world he lives. My heart hung in silence and hurt, unable to fathom someone so close to her can live a completely different life.

I hesitated. "Your Mom...is she okay?" I waited for him to say something harsh, close up, move in a harsh way to initiate some sort of hatred for me in response.

But he didn't. Jimin smiled. It was a sad one but he nodded slowly. "You were right about one thing that night, she was a fighter. Once I was able to recognize that it wasn't her controlling the drugs but it control her, a little of distance and money helped out relationship."

"She doesn't live with you?"

"No, I live with the boys now and with the money I've been able to collect for myself while with them, I've helped create a life away from her old habits." Jimin clicked his tongue. "Well, sort of. She's still in and out of rehab, relapsing. But the gaps between each are getting longer. This one is her longest streak, three years! She's going strong...she's a fighter."

I warmed at that. Glad to hear a silver-lining in his life. The greatest part of this entire conversation was his openness, his willingness to talk to me. What made him comfortable to do so, I didn't know. But there was nothing more attractive than Jimin speaking his thoughts, talking about his feelings, and including me in a deep conversation about his Mom. A topic he would've slammed me away from if we were to have it in high school.

My heart hammered. Feelings at a high, rushing and transforming to an admiration for the man that sat before me.

"You're a fighter too." I reached over to touch his hand.

Jimin chewed slowly again, contemplating my words as he stared down at my hand on his. Feeling his hand turn to hold mine, he squeezed it before letting go. Like before, two squeezes. I assumed the same I did before. Thank you.

"What about you Ein?"

I glared at him for ruining the moment, and he laughed. "Mia! Mia. It's hard to not call you Ein, a habit."

"Well I don't like it. Could you maybe stop calling me that? Work at it?"

Jimin studied my face, his smile falling in the slightest when seeing me set a boundary direct and clearly. Nodding without another say, the man smiled fully. "You got it."

I told him about my frosh-year and how I hated it. It was a pain and a half to find friends. Once I drifted away from my friendship with Jordan, I found it a waste of time to try to befriend anyone else. I studied for the sake of studying, picked Political Science as a major even though I didn't want it. Confused. Constantly stressed. And writing papers almost every week or attending labs I had no interest in, I told him how I felt like a zombie every day for four years.

"Dang." Jimin was shocked. "No parties? Anything fun?"

"I entered the whole party scene late, last year of college." I shrugged, slurping some soup as a palette cleanser before reaching for another entree. "Got out of my bubble a little and dated. Got myself a boyfriend."

Jimin's rings clinked with his glass loudly as he reached for a side plate. Panicked for a second as he grabbed the water from falling off the table, he swore under his breath an apology. "Wait, boyfriend?"

"Yup."

He licked his bottom lip, eyes narrowing as he drank from the water he saved. "Does he know you're on a date with me now?"

I contained the flutter in my gut. "No, and he doesn't have to because we broke up."

"Interesting." Jimin's smile was back.

"Besides, this isn't technically a real date." I whispered the last bit, leaning forward. Jimin held a teasing expression in his face as he leaned in too.

"What about this is fake?"

"We're putting on a show," I said.

Jimin leaned in more, body hanging above the food with his face close again. Too close. I pulled the tiniest bit back, staring into his eyes that seemed to play a game I wasn't aware of.

"Who says we can't enjoy the show we put on?"

My jaw lost feeling. "You're considering this a real date?"

Teasingly arching his lips close to mine, the man lingered by my nose before pecking it and falling back into his seat. The cushions of the booth on his side did a wave from the press of his jeans. Similar waves tangible in my chest as I pulsed for some sort of breath, or clarity.

"Might as well." Jimin shrugged. "It's been two years since I've been on a date. Why not have fun when a beautiful woman's involved?"

My brow arched. "Beautiful, huh?"

Jimin smiled with his teeth. "What? That offend you?"

"No, but-"

"Then there ya go." Jimin placed a finger to his mouth. "Take the compliment and enjoy the rest of this date, yeah? I've got a surprise that'll make you feel...less tense."

. . .

Our walk back was the same as the walk away, clammy hands together. It wasn't until I reached the porch when Jimin let go of my hand and reached for the keys in his fanny pack.

"You know," I said behind him. "You didn't have to pay for the dinner too? I could've covered that."

Jimin smiled over his shoulder, opening the door and stepping aside to allow me to pass by him. "I was raised with some manners. Some." He nudged his head, telling me to hurry on in.

I eyed him with a squint, and he did it back, teasing my suspicious nature. Standing before him and feeling the weight of the show come to its finale, I closed our distance. Ignoring the thoughts telling me to stop, knowing I could no longer contain what was to come, I wrapped my arms around the man and looked at his eyes.

Jimin's smile faltered slightly, hand twitching off the door's handle as the arms racked for my waist. I allowed him, feeling the warmth of his hoodie drape around me under the jacket of his I wore.

"Finale?" I said, reading the look in his eyes.

Kind, tender. Lost. One of those moments I attempted to understand his thoughts but failed. There was a moment of hesitation from him, a wake in reality and it was almost as if he zoned into my presence? No it couldn't be that.

"Oh." All he said, eyes bouncing between my eyes and lips.

I did the same, however, with calculation this time and not like the theatre. Allowing my touch to tease his neck and then the back of his hair, I propped my lips close to his, tugging him close to my essence. Close enough to tease a touch of mouths, I refrained from exceeding dominance from his side, warming him up to the discovery of my kiss without giving him one.

With a giggle, I pulled the hem of his sweater, rushing into the house and playing a facade of a couple excited to enter a home for fun. Dragging him in successfully, I slammed the door, closed it and locked it. It was an easy and quick move, letting his sweater go and doing the peek out the window Jimin would normally do.

No Deities. None around for me to see anyway.

Turning to watch Jimin standing at a distance behind me, I didn't care to see his face turned down. He was thinking about something, a next move, the surprise? I moved around him, mumbling about when I'm gonna get the surprise only for his hand to hold mine.

"What is it?" I turned around.

"Nothing." Jimin shook his head, walking near. Hand out of mine, he walked with a purpose linked to my face. His eyes danced around then fixated in one position. One place. My lips.

His hands cupped my face and everything moved slowly. The way his thumb pet my cheek, to our foreheads aligning as Jimin's defeated breath hitched at my lips. My guess was that my lips quivered in response to his sudden affection, knees weak and arms limp. He stared for a long time, eyeing the curve of my bottom lip with a desire I had never seen on any man before. Nor did my ex look at me in the way Jimin did now. Want. Lust. A longing.

He didn't take it. Not even when I arched forward, opening my lips ready to be devoured. Jimin's fingers tickled my neck and grabbed my shoulders, pulling me off him. "Sorry."

"Me too." I said it in response, not knowing why either of us apologized.

He didn't look at me when he started climbing the stairs. I could only look at him, nothing else.

"Freshen up and meet me by the backyard a half-hour before the sunset," Jimin said. "I'll uh...the surprise."

This was the first time I heard him stutter in such a manner...because of me.

. . .

I didn't know what to wear. When Jimin said to freshen up and meet him in the backyard, I contemplated what 'freshen up' meant for ten minutes. Was I to change? I looked down at my basic top and black leggings, knowing I put no effort in today's look. When I woke up this morning and walked outside in Jimin's jacket with him by my side, I wasn't ready for a date but a show. A performance. The day started off that way in my mind, only to twist in reality the moment Jimin considered the date to be real.

Then, when the finale to the show took course and I did what I was told, I teased him into the home, Jimin's whole attitude shifted. He ran to me, held my face and hesitated in kissing me. His eyes. I could never forget the way he looked at me at that moment. There was a want, lust, yet care.

I choked it up to being a reflex to having not dated in two years, as he said. Maybe he was horny and I teased a little too much? Shrugging off the emotions I tried my hardest to cap most of the day, I peeled out of my clothes and into jean shorts and a crop top.

The crop top in its very existence was ironic, long sleeved and with a turtle-neck line, while my waist remained naked. It was perfect for Summer evenings dropping in temperature as the sun set, and the moon made an appearance. The lavender colour contrasted with the light blue of my blue shorts. Throwing on reading socks, I let my hair fall the way it wanted as I made my way downstairs.

After hiding away in my room, I didn't know where Jimin left. He passed by my room at a point, frozen at the door but walked down the stairs instead. I was glad he didn't knock or come in, I was changing. "Come down when you're ready," he said.

I did. I went down and focused on the backyard lights illuminating the windows of the living room, beaming in light into the darkness that fit the boring furniture.

"Jimin?"

His voice was heard from behind the curtains, outside on the grass in the backyard. I opened the door and felt my mouth relax, in awe of Dad's backyard maintained and kept. The bushes were trimmed to the best of Jimin's ability, new soil and fertilizer given to many of the dying tomato seeds. Freshly watered crops and plants itched the back of my nose. How long had Jimin been taking care of the backyard?

Then I saw him. In his dark green hoodie, jeans, rings, tattoo, and bandaged cut under his ear. Out of place yet, not wanted anywhere else by me but here. He stood on top of a blanket from inside with two couch cushions. In the centre was a bag unravelled, ice cream sandwiches ready to devour.

"I wasn't able to convince Namjoon to give me the car," Jimin said. "Otherwise I would've taken us to Canveer Mountain and done this. I know you did it a lot with you Dad."

I stepped out, eyes roaming around the backyard and his subtle and cute set-up in wonder. Curiosity struck me, a welling up feeling at the back of my throat. Don't cry don't cry. "How'd you know about Canveer Mountain?"

Jimin stretched his hand out for me to take. I took it and allowed him to help me on the blanket. We sat down, my gaze wandering still. He laughed and explained himself, only to prick my heart to allow the emotions to flow.

"The letter I made fun of before I read the entire thing. From that Officer friend your Dad had? I assumed a simple sorry wasn't enough for being a jerk. Thought I'd try my best by doing this." Jimin shrugged, looking away from my face that started to shift into a cry. "I really am sorry, for everything."

"I forgive you, are you kidding me?" I looked around. "You've even tried to save the tomatoes!"

The man laughed. "Save the tomatoes?"

"They're a lost cause."

"Hey, no they're not. You should know better than anyone," he said. "Don't give up on anything worth fighting for."

I smiled, wiping the tears that managed to escape from my eyes. I buried down the sadness of my Dad's loss, replacing it with gratitude for Jimin before me now. In the present, a beautiful man surprised me with something no man had ever considered. I leaned in with hesitation, but when he allowed me, I kissed his cheek. "Thank you."

"Thank you too." Jimin laid down, throwing an ice cream sandwich into my lap. "I may not show it, but the last impression you left on me was definitely a reminiscing one. I thought about it here and there."

"I didn't realize I had that sort of power on you." I laughed, laying down next to him and unwrapping the dessert.

He warned me with a sound, narrowing his eyes. "Not power, but wisdom. We were both young and immature but I've never felt so liberated and hopeful with anyone else? Not at that time anyway."

"That's sad Jimin."

I nibbled on the vanilla ice cream surrounded by chocolate cookie crumble. Glancing at the man who stared with amused eyes, I shrugged and offered him a bite. He took it, licking his lips right after. I watched the roll of his tongue.

"Not too sad. I got better at being hopeful as I got older. It all started with acceptance and understanding that these were the cards I was given in life, so might as well learn to play well with them."

"Ah, and people like me were given the easier deck."

He nodded. "But there's something about people like you, how hopeful and ignorant you can be. Truly oblivious to the outside world."

"Well I'm in it now." I fed him again. "You can teach me."

When the last came out of my mouth, Jimin's expression changed. His neck bobbed and his eyes darted up to see the sun's effects on the sky. A pink and orange streak burst into the blues of the day, darkness around the corner.

"Tell me stories."

"What?"

"Stories. About your life. Tell me about your Dad." Jimin didn't care to notice my discomfort. Carrying myself out of my own hole, I started from the middle of life.

I told him about my Mom's indecisiveness and why I thought my choices reflected her habits. Then, I told stories about my parents' fights (when Dad was new to the firm) and how they went to counselling thinking I didn't understand. I wanted them to divorce when they fought a lot, not having hope in the therapy. It wasn't until they became an anomaly and a therapist's success story. They communicated better and Mom outwardly started telling Dad what she needed. It was funny to witness, to see the change in their love and affection. Beautiful really.

Then I told him about Bucky, the family's pet. Bucky was supposed to be mine but eventually became Dad's. Jimin laughed thinking I was joking, but I explained how much Dad loved the animal, even more than me. I figured it was because my Dad always wanted more than one child but Mom didn't. They got close to adopting one year, but then Mom and I to walked by a pet store one day and brought Bucky home. Dad was furious, hated the pet. And yet, he cried the most when Bucky died.

"I'm guessing he celebrated birthdays for lil' Bucky."

"Oh definitely. His birthday was Dad's computer password for so long." I laughed, shaking my head at the memory of my Dad's love for the animal.

Jimin laughed with me. "Damn. When was the rascal's birthday?"

I told him. Then he asked about my trips to Canveer Mountain. Those trips always happened with my stresses in mind. No matter what it was, the old man always knew what bothered me. He'd take me driving to Canveer Mountain, would tell me about times he played in the same streets and brought girls up for dates on the Mountain in high school. "Don't tell Mom I told you," he'd laugh.

Jimin's laugh was contagious. He expressed joy with his entire body, hitting my arm lightly as he went back to laying flat on his back. One minute he'd stare at the sky, the next moment he'd stare at me.

"Must've been nice having a Dad so late into your life, I'm sorry you had to lose him at all." The man nodded, giving his regards the best he could for a lawyer who put those like him behind bars.

I thanked him for the sweet attempt. "What was your Dad like?"

Jimin hesitated. It was easier for him to talk about his Mother than his Father. Same thing years back in Jordan's backyard. Never did he bring up any father-figure in his life. "He was great, from what I remember hearing. Was too young to really form a concrete memory."

"No memories at all?"

"There was one. Mom bought a tennis ball from a thrift shop once when she went shopping and Dad played with me. I don't remember where we were, it looked like a house that didn't belong to us? Or maybe it was a park." A smile formed on Jimin's face. "The only thing I remember about the old man is how horrible he was catching the ball. I was barely five and even I played better."

"That sounds really sweet." I nudged his arm with my knee.

Jimin nudged back, his hand lingering on the bone.

"It was hard when he left."

"I can imagine."

Jimin tilted his head. "You don't have to imagine anymore."

Although sad, we both laughed. There was no other appropriate time to act out of dark humour. A coping mechanism, we both dimmed in our light and watched the sun sink behind houses too tall to look over. The pink and orange streaks getting blue and bruised purple. The night sky, closer in reach.

"Thank you for this Jimin, you've been extremely sweet lately." I scrunched the wrapper of the finished ice cream sandwich.

"Only lately?" He teased me.

"You know what I mean."

Jimin winked. "I'm glad you enjoyed the surprise."

Trying not to allow his wink to affect me in any form, I got on my knees. "It's getting dark and I don't want the ice cream sandwiches to melt. Let's call it a night?" The last of my questions came out in a rush, a pitched voice a response from Jimin's fingers grazing the upper bit of my thigh.

He moved from my knee to the skin just above, thumb pressing in. "You aren't too cold, are you?"

I shook my head, unable to speak.

Jimin's shoulder's did a shallow shrug. "Then what's the rush? Let the ice cream melt." His hand cupped the side of my thigh, tugging as if to bring me back down to the blanket.

"It'll only waste your money." What managed to come out was hitched, soft, and very breathy. I hoped the reaction wasn't obvious.

"Five minutes. Then we'll go in and save the dessert." Jimin looked up and me from his laid position. His arm rested under his head, while the other guided the grip of his hand to firmly squeeze my thigh.

I pursed my lips from making a sound. He seemed to enjoy the reactions I tried to hide, smirking to himself. His hand grazed up, revealing its hold on my leg and to my hip. Respectfully skipping over to grab my arm and tug me down, I obeyed.

I sank into his arms, little by little moving to his side with my knees. Jimin's pull was gentle but enough to allow a plant of my torso to rest against his side. At his side, hidden in the warmth of his side, I managed to find peace within my heart and look up. Like the movie theatre, I was glad the night sky drowned out the majority of my expression. Only the heat in my cheeks signified flustering.

"Jimin?"

He answered with a low hum. I did everything in my power to hide from the desires shooting forward in an emotional reaction. I asked him about the years leading up to this moment, how he got here and what about his section gave him joy. Without any vision of his mouth, knowing I couldn't handle it, I looked up and listened to his answer.

Jimin told me about the boys, Namjoon specifically. Namjoon worked as a man who knew all the answers, commanded the plans. He was smart, allowing for intelligence to be a shield from any harm that could come to the section. Jimin went on to tell me about each boy, their importance to the group. He mentioned Jin's words on phones, and how a moment away from any of the boys felt like a day without your phone. Discomfort at every corner until talking or seeing them at least once. Formed habits, a brotherhood created. "I'd die for them knowing what I know now," Jimin said.

"It's funny what little wins life gives you. Losses are inevitable but connections..." I didn't finish. I couldn't if I wanted to. Jimin's fingers trailed the small of my back with his finger tips. They were high enough to be respectful, but low enough to create shivers yearning for closeness.

Like the cuddle after my crying episode, where I held him for his scent, tonight I was held by him in an indescribable nature. It was of comfort, of romance, of lust and want and longing. A hold sexy yet intimate without a need for any space for sexual inkling. If drunkenness were to trap me in the corner of Jimin's embrace now, I'd wish to never sober up. It all felt like a dream.

A tremor rattled within my gut. "Jimin?"

He answered again with a hum. It was hoarse this time.

"Is this for real?" This moment. The blanket. The sandwiches. Talks and his perceptions of the surprise. The moment his breathing raced in the movie theatre from my presence, to now, the touching he so freely craved of my body. Touches I allowed and wished to receive. Was everything about the day for the Deities? Was this for them or for me...for us?

"The show ended a long time ago," he said. "This is real."

I allowed myself to look at him. The rush of denial that surged within me the entire day collapsing in one go. I have feelings for Jimin, confused ones for sure, but they're feelings that are real and present. I couldn't find the heart in hiding from it anymore. I embraced it.

"Good," I leaned in to get a better view of the sincerity in his eyes. "It better be."

Jimin's brows knit in a fraction at my words. His lips I avoided to look at moved in question, only for the sway of my head to intoxicate him in my moment of false drunkenness. The man tilted the same, falling into the thirst for my lips.

The first kiss was awkward, shy even. Mostly from my end as I glanced to his expression to see if it was a dream. He reassured me, smiled and repeated how real the moment was. Real. His lips were definitely real. The taste of them sweeter than the ice cream paused on my tongue, full and forthcoming with a pressure which surrendered out a sigh from me.

The regular ways in which I lost track of time amplified in this kiss, what felt like a fraction of a second turned into panting breaths, roaming hands and exploring mouths for long minutes. Sweetest of my tongue swam in the alluring invitations of his, teasing and strong, the scent of his breath savoured an essence of clementines and cream.

All I felt was the scattering beats in my chest, heart ringing in my ears and the man's breath hitching the more my body pressed on top of his. I could tell he liked it. Jimin's hands were no longer gentle and respectful on my back, but fingers digging into my curves and moving me in the way he wanted.

His body shifted me on my back, the ringing in my ears growing louder and the noise of the crickets around the blanket drowning out. Jimin moaned into my mouth, closing his lips tight on mine as he adjusted above. Eyes flickering images every time they fluttered open, I'd see Jimin then the dark sky. Specks of light shone down, the stars creeping in on the intimate sounds both of us released. The moon was out, dark sky. Time raced fast and brightly, taunting my smooth lashes every time I zoned back into reality.

This was real.

Jimin was on top of me, mouth carving his imprint with each hungry kiss. Deeper and deeper, the taste of ice cream savaged away only to leave succulent lips which grew pink from the friction. His mouth tired, lips smoothing out as my tongue teased or my teeth bit. He groaned when I crossed lines, body stapled between my thighs leaving the friction of our lips to be the last of our worries.

His jeans tight, my jean shorts thin to feel everything pressed against them. I let out a moan into Jimin's mouth, surprising us both as we filtered into reality together and caught the darkened space around. Crickets. Night dawned on us. Harsh breathing in each other's faces, I rested my head down into the blanket and relieved my hands from pulling his hair. I didn't recall how I got them there, tugging at the roots in impulse.

Jimin's hair was messy, his eyes darker than the sky above me.

I caught my breath. "Let's go inside?"

"Y-Yes. The ice cream's melting."

Right, the ice cream.

I had never seen a man scurry faster in my life. Watching Jimin collect the ice cream and whack the blanket from the grass, I thanked him, and he nodded without making eye-contact. We both entered the house, his hand guiding me in first. I did a two-step with him, and the bright blush in his cheeks were visible every time I got too close.

I rushed to the stairs as Jimin moved to the kitchen. I made it to the bathroom in my room, locking myself in. Running the shower water to let out a small shriek, the inner freshman in me wished to dance in excitement. The woman in me frantically obsessed over what this meant. The immature versus the mature. I stripped out of my clothing and sunk into the heat of the shower head, making sure to manage my breathing.

It was a quick shower. I could tell from the way the hot water cooled by the end that Jimin was showering too. The very thought made me bite my lip, the image of the man's naked body in the shower thrusting me back to the moment I was underneath him on the blanket under the moon's judgment.

Brushing my teeth and caring for the skin that shivered and itched for more attention, I tamed the urges with lotion. The smell of sweet strawberry coconut body butter calmed my pores from any thrill.

That was until I came out into my room with my towel and saw Jimin laying down a pillow for him to sleep. I stood, frozen by the bathroom where steam poured out from between my legs and behind my neck. He sleeps on the ground in your room! How could you forget that! The blush was back, skin wishing to fall naked in his warm arms. Warmth of fascination and intrigue trapped between my legs, awaiting approval.

"Look, what happened out there-" Jimin looked over fairly late. His eyes did a quick dance of my body, the parts that he could see. Muscles in his jaw grew tight as he looked away, staring down to his bed setting close to the window.

"Mind looking away for a second?"

Jimin nodded curtly. He turned around and I could see his reflection in the glass where the curtain's split. A gentleman he was, didn't look up and the mere fact allured the thought in my head hoping he did.

His shoulders were taut and in position for a fight. As if angry with the window, the black shirt and joggers he wore screamed an ironic comfort ability. Hair wet and goosebumps trailing the backs of his forearms, I wondered if Jimin showered in cold water rather than hot.

I patted my towel on wet streaks that dripped from my body. Grabbing a long shirt, I looked down at the fabric. The white shirt Jimin gave me. It was long enough to cover my nakedness, securing any temptation of lust he may embark on. I knew I was being bold, holding on a flame inside that screamed attention for a man's hold. Jimin, the man I wanted for years. The man I fought with, the man I got to know. He was everything and nothing all in one, and my heart surged in letting him have me.

If he was to Claim me in the streets, might as well in the sheets. I tried not laughing at my own idiocy, telling my brain to quiet itself.

"You're good to look now."

Jimin didn't move for a while, when he did, I was sitting on my bed over the covers. My knees knocked each other, thighs pressed together as I sat my back against my bed frame and pulled out a book to read. Opening it up on my bare thighs, I caught his gaze from the corner of my vision.

His throat cleared awkwardly, hands grabbing at an extra blanket by mine.

"What were you saying earlier?" I fingered the pages of my book, nervously holding back on eye-contact with Jimin who did the same.

"Oh." He cleared his throat again. "I uh, I wanted to talk about what happened outside."

"Was the show not over?" I hated how delicate my voice sounded.

Jimin was quiet for a few seconds. My heart hammered, sinking to imagine the entire surprise to be anything but romantic. It couldn't have been for the Deities? He did it because he wanted to, right? My brain escalated in a search for answers, hurting myself with potential reasoning until he pacified me.

"It's not that. I answered that question already." Jimin's hands worked through his wet hair, sleeking the strands back from his eyes. His forehead glistened from lotion. I dreamed of smelling him.

I eased. "Then what is it?"

"I...were you...I didn't go too far, right?"

My heart swelled. "No Jimin, not at all."

His shoulders relaxed, head bobbing in nods, I appeased him.

"Come here." I surprised the both of us from the command.

Jimin pointed down to his bed set-up closest to the window. "We should both rest up." His voice was higher than usual as he said so, nervousness radiating off the man with every glance I gave.

I nodded. Every inch of me tingled, subjecting to the want I fell victim to. In no ways was my mouth to be courageous at any other time but now, when I folded my book shut, stood to my knees and crossed over my bed. Standing on the blankets that Jimin sorted as his bed, my toes curled on the softness of the sheets with every step forward.

Jimin's chest visibly moved similar to mine. Mine was harsher, more nervous, yet bold in the way I pressed my torso into his. His eyes followed the curve of my chest pushed against his, then to my neck, my ears, my cheeks, my lips. Finally, my eyes. "Did you want to?" he said.

"Yes, I want to." I considered his eyes. "Did you?"

"Definitely." Jimin's hand leaned to the window, slipping between the crack of my curtains and making the gap bigger. "I wanted it in the backyard but didn't wanna cross any lines."

I read nothing but nervousness played in his eyes, and smiled at his fumble into the window, too consumed by the grinding on my breasts from the fabric of his shirt and mine colliding.

"Cross them now." I smiled.

[Disclaimer: 18+ content ahead]

Jimin did a small one of his own, hesitancy in his eyes as his hands wrapped around me, pulling me closer. His lean against the window tugged down the curtain holders, thrashing against the weight as I gave in to his grasp entirely. I couldn't read the expression. Worry? Curiosity? I washed away any strip of nerves with the lick of my tongue, flicking his bottom lip before fluttering light kisses to his mouth.

The man's eyes shut immediately. Hands scrunching the white shirt hiding my body, fingers dug into my curves yet again. Allowing himself to cross the lines, I hiccuped a breath at his arms massage into my butt, grip it tight only to pull the backs of my thighs up around his waist.

When my back hit the bed and the scent of his freshly washed face consumed my surroundings, the dim light of my reading lamp stayed on, illuminating Jimin's features. His high cheekbones, sharp eyes and jaw, to the pout of his lips. A perfect man, sexy and what my thrilling skin needed in action.

He touched every part of me. My eyes closed as his weight on me felt effortless and seductive, the bulge in his jeans from earlier free to shape any way it pleased. The joggers didn't constrict his urge, and the white shirt I wore didn't spark intrusion between my legs. I didn't wear underwear.

Jimin's mouth was on mine, like outside, my head sunk into the bed but buried in further than the grassy ground outside. The backyard was hard, my bed soft. My ears were swallowed by the sheets of my bed, muffled hitches and whispers from Jimin filtering to my ears.

"You're so fucking beautiful, damn." The last of his whispers was a breathy curse, tongue looping around my collarbone, the curve of my neck, then just below my jaw. I moaned when he sucked to pinch my skin in each space, thighs clapping shut around the outer seams of his joggers.

"Jimin," I said. I moaned his name, breathing into his ear as I grabbed the back of his head into my chest. Rocking my hips up and across his, the glide of his hard against my naked warmth swung the both of us into a fit of groans.

He tipped his kiss away from my jaw and to my ear. "Slow down."

Allowing my fight in his hair to release, Jimin's hands held mine down to the bed, burying them into the softness of the sheets and mattress the same way my body sank.

Jimin kissed on my neck, caving his attention down to the curl of my breasts under his shirt. They poked out, arousal from constraint taunting his lips as he left kisses around and on my nipples. The flushing desire which spread from my gut down between my thighs, alerted my senses, numbing the crashing of my heart's beat in my chest to be heard by both of us.

Me, shivering from the tease of his tongue flicking over the shirt, to later, legs wrapping around his neck. Hands back in his hair, I aimlessly shoved his head away from under the white shirt. Jimin left light wet kisses around my inner thighs, then closer to the end of my inner thigh. Closer, closer, there. My back arched in a vowel's fashion, thighs pressing his cheeks in place as his wet light kisses began to pluck at my warmth with a sharp flicking tongue.

Jimin was magic. His tongue, perfection. I shook in pockets of time, biting down on my lip and looking down at him pleasuring me. Jimin watched me from his angle, smiling into my wetness only to create a wave of horniness carrying logic and reasoning away, I admit to the surrender.

He rubbed, flicked and squeezed my breasts over the shirt as he ate, murmuring pretty words of admiration between. Jimin spoke of my sweetness, my sexiness, and how cute I looked when I squirmed. I couldn't answer back, enjoying the flow of his mouth's power overbearing any conceptualizing part of my brain. The only thing I heard in my thoughts was his name, and his only. So I said it, I moaned it, groaned it, screamed it in shrieks when he quickened his efforts.

My thighs trembled as an end to the pleasure came out as a cry into the sheets next to me. My lips pulled the fabric in with breaths, screeching into it with a refrained whine. A full release clouded the top of my brain, rushed down my limbs, and allowed my raging chest to curl out the man's name. The one to make me orgasm, as my wobbling hands pulled him up for a wet and demanding kiss.

"Jimin, I want you. Please, please, please." I begged, whining into his mouth that tasted of my scent. He smiled against my lips, nodding hastily.

"Wait for me." Jimin kissed my mouth, taking my hand and guiding it down between my legs. He made me move my fingers in a circle, ordering me to continue while he left the room.

Confused for a moment, the sensations of my own fingers and the lasting of his kiss kept me in my lustful trance. I pictured his face behind my eyes as I flickered them closed, heard his harsh breathing, his groans, and found another wave of climax to ride off, eager for his arrival.

When he came, he held a wrap in his hand, torn and ready to be used. A condom.

Breathless, I tried to ask me where he got it, why he had it, and if he was prepared for this to happen between the two of us. But no sound came out, just a command for him to hurry as he pulled his shirt off his body, and tugged his joggers down slightly, pulling out his hard from being hidden.

Standing by the end of the bed, I let my hands eagerly grab him, laying down on my stomach to level my mouth in pleasuring him. Just as my head bobbed the first two times, eager with my lips after his shaft, Jimin's hands held my hair, a long groan leaving his mouth with my name.

"I can't. I can't wait anymore." Jimin sighed, pulling himself out of my mouth with a shake. He got on the bed behind me, helping my knees in place on the bed as my breasts and face laid into the sheets.

Muffled noise of the wrapper, his groans as he put the rubber on, and then I felt him. Slow and teasing, I moaned into the sheets, hands gripping the sheets in a clench to reveal to him the effect he had.

He got comfortable, and I told him to go faster. Our bodies bounced off each other and the thirst between my legs was quenched, finally. The urgency for us both, gone and dismissed. I arched my back on him, slapping into his skin. Jimin moaned my name, telling me how perfect I was, how beautiful. The pretty words washed into my ear when I moved up, back sliding against his naked torso. We breathed in each other's mouths as I turned my head back and kissed him.

Sloopy, messy. Animalistic and a want buried within us both for years. Anger and resentment from a fight of immaturity, to then, when he flipped me over and had me on my back, a closeness only maturity and age could comprehend.

He forgave me for sure, as did I. Both of our apologies in the pretty words we let out. I told him how sexy he was, how perfect he was, and how beautiful his words were. I touched his mouth when he moved slowly in front of me from the front, face-to-face, I watched him, and he watched me.

"You used to dream of this, didn't you?" Jimin smiled just before he started his slow waves, sweaty bodies linked as one.

I smiled into his skin, unable to say a word other than his name. When he asked again, almost demanding with a teasing thrust, I moaned a yes. "I never stopped," I said.

Jimin stopped for a second, eyes unreadable when he looked at me. My boldness left me and innocence, vulnerability and concern for my words affecting the rest of the night crept in.

The man's eyes were soft. There was something else present, a hesitation from earlier present again. "You like me."

I watched his neck swallow hard and found the courage to expect my feelings as they rushed forward. Was he scared? Sad? Why can't I read him?

"I do, I like you," I said.

Jimin stared at my face, slowly inching his movements again. I stared at him long enough before the grip of my warmth caressed every thrust he made. I closed my eyes, hugged his back, and waited for his freeing climax to end our night, not knowing it was just the beginning.

The bed rocked slowly, gentle and patient. The creeks of the bed frame, the shifting and slipping of the bed sheets. Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte: the book I closed before I could even begin, flapped by the corner before falling to the ground. The squeaks of the night which followed ignoring the thunder of its fall.

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