JIMIN POV
Watching him leave hurts worse than I was expecting.
As does the realization that this is the third time he's walked away without me.
Does he not feel the same thing I feel?
For the entire drive from the hospital to the house, my certainty was increasing.
The attraction I feel toward him, the ache in my gut, the need to be near him...
He must be feeling it as well.
After what he said about taking care of me, there was no doubt left in my mind that the pull is mutual.
But then why did he look so terrified when I grabbed his sleeve?
I try to shove those thoughts away so I can focus on what Molly is telling me but it's proving difficult.
I only catch a little bit of her explanation about the history of the house as she leads me through the various hallways and corridors.
There are only five bedrooms but there's also a library, a sitting room, a few offices, both formal and casual dining rooms, as well as a few other extraneous rooms that inflate the overall square footage of the house significantly.
I'm guessing if you filled each room with bunkbeds, you'd be able to sleep everyone from Omega House and then some.
The bedroom Molly leads me to is easily five times the size of the room I have back at Omega House.
I'm one of the lucky few with only one roommate but that's only because the slope of the roof makes it impossible to fit a bunkbed in there.
So the room I'm used to sleeping in is rather cramped.
This room is massive and it's dominated by an equally large bed topped by a down comforter and headed with a veritable mountain of pillows, I've never seen anything that looks more comfortable in my entire life.
"There's a dresser over there."
Molly inclines her head toward the dresser. "And the closet is to the left, The door to your private bathroom is through there."
"You've got a dressing table over here and there are extra blankets in the chest at the foot of the bed."
My eyes bulge in awe as I take in my surroundings, Everything is light and airy and luxurious.
I'm more than a little overwhelmed by it all.
"If you'd like to get changed, fresh clothes are in the dresser."
"I'm afraid there's not much in there at the moment since I wasn't given much time to prepare for your arrival." Molly folds her hands apologetically.
"But I'll be going out to do some shopping once I determine how well everything fits you."
"You don't have to do that." I protest as I turn to look at her.
"I appreciate everything you've done, I really do but all I need is to get my clothes from Omega House."
"I don't need new clothing."
Molly frowns and looks at me pointedly. "Do any of the things you have there have sentimental value?"
I tug at the hem of the shirt I'm wearing, The idea of clothing having sentimental value is new to me.
Everything I own is a hand-me-down. "No, I guess not." I say after a moment.
"Then there's no reason to hold on to them." Molly says with a nod.
"But isn't it wasteful to buy more clothes when I've already got stuff that mostly fits me?"
I've never had new clothes in my life and the idea of it is strangely unnerving to me.
"Clothing shouldn't 'mostly' fit."
"If it only 'mostly' fits then it doesn't fit at all." Molly lays her hands on my shoulders and looks me in the eye.
"Why don't you tell me what the problem actually is?"
"I just..." I look away from her, a little baffled by the question.
For several seconds, I'm not sure how to answer. "I feel like it's a waste."
"Wearing new clothes isn't going to change who I am underneath."
"Have you ever heard the saying the clothes make the man?"
"I think I've heard it before."
I cock an eyebrow, curious as to where she's going with this.
"There are other sayings that are similar, Dress for the job you want, Fake it till you make it and so on They all mean the same thing though." She moves past me and approaches the dresser.
"What you wear, how you appear and how you act are all within your ability to control."
"People can only judge you by what they see, They don't know anything beyond that."
"You might feel like you don't deserve new clothing but if you wear them and wear them with confidence."
"then other people are only going to see a smartly dressed man."
She pulls out a new set of clothes from one of the drawers and carries it toward me.
"No one else needs to know about your insecurities, They can't see them unless you make them obvious." Molly returns to my side and looks up at me.
"Wearing baggy shirts that are clearly too big for you, layered with bulky sweaters, tells me you are insecure about your weight."
"You're trying to hide your body from everyone else so they can't see."
"Is that so bad?" I ask her as she shoves the clean clothes into my arms.
"No, it's not bad to be insecure."
"Everyone is from time to time."
"But if you wear clothes that fit you, I think you'll find your body doesn't look as bad as you think it does." Her smile is warm and motherly, making her words feel even more sincere.
"I can't promise these will fit you the right way but they'll give me a good starting point to figure out your real size. Later on, if you'd like, I'll bring down my tape measure so we can get a more accurate measurement."
I bite my lip as I stare uncertainly at the pile of clothes in my arms.
How can she read me so well when she just met me? I've always been an extrovert.
I like making friends, talking to people and socializing and I've never really put a lot of thought into my clothing before.
They've always been something to cover up my skin and keep me from being naked, Have I really been projecting my insecurities to everyone I come across?
Maybe I have.
I sway a bit on my feet and even the small action makes me wince.
I think the drugs are starting to wear off and I'd rather not be up and about when they do.
"Let's get you into bed," Molly says, gently taking the clothes from me.
"We can worry about all that later." She expertly ushers me across the room and bundles me into bed.
