The BirdBox {A BTS fanfiction}

Happy death day

"(Y/N)..." I peered up from the spot I was seated to find Jimin walking into the room, a worried expression on his face. Jimin was always the helpful type in this kind of situation, whenever I found myself breaking down, He pulled me back together. It never mattered whether I made so much of a sob or a whine, he knew that if I was breaking down, I wasn't going to get much better.

He sat down next me as I drew my knees to my chest, reaching his hand out to rub my head but retracted when I flinched, weary of what his intentions may or may not be. He simply sighed at my response and rested his head against the wall, looking up at the ceiling as he began to speak.

His words were as smooth as milk and sweet like honey, they were cascading over and into my ears for my pleasurable desire and I never once stopped his words.

"I know you're going through allot-.." he started. His voice was raspy and tired, as if he had just woken up from sleep when he heard my cries "-especially being the toughest one out of us all. You somehow always manage to pull through everything without a scratch. It never ceases to amaze me." he looked over at me and smiled, lighting up the room as his eyes disappeared in his chubby cheeks and his full pouty lips curved into a thin crescent moon, lighting up the night sky with it's simple appearance.

"You are always so calm and collected but-.." his smile slowly turned into a frown, resembling that of a clowns on this perfect mans face. "-you never let anyone know just how much you're hurting too. And that worries me sometimes. I always find you crying alone and even then, you hardly ever ask for help.." I sniffled and looked away as my cheeks began to heat, all emotion I had been feeling before being almost the least of my worries. All I could think of at the moment was how I made my precious Jimin feel, and that's not okay. I opened my mouth to speak but he simply held his hand in front of my face, signaling for me to keep quiet. His hand then moved down to my own, the ones gripping my knees so tightly that the knuckles were as white as white chocolate, yet as stiff as stone. He rubbed soothing circles onto my knuckles until I finally released my grip, listening to them pop and crack back into place as I winced. How long had I been like this? He tugged on my arms gently and pulled me close to him, carefully wrapping my arms around his body before slowly wrapping his arms around mine, as if he were trying not to wake me from sleep. Am I sleeping? I said it again, but this time audibly "Jimin, am I asleep?" he shook his head before finally pulling me tight against his body, the warmth taking my cold body by surprise and it flinched, my fingers once again clutching onto something but the feeling now being something soft and mold-able. His shirt. I was holding onto his shirt.

"No, honey. You were having another panic attack."

A panic attack.

The words take a moment to register until I finally realized the height of the situation. I had been seated in the corner of my room, my back facing and leaning against the wall with a small dent neatly placed inside, indicating I had been hitting my back against it. Pillows and blankets spewed across the floor as if I had thrown them off the bed in a fit of rage, but that wasn't the case at all, it was infact the exact opposite.

I finally leaned into Jimin's arms and let his sweet aroma surround me, the aroma of body sweat and naturistic qualities, that being of dirt, trees and musk. I never knew what it was about Jimin's touch and aroma, but it was great enough to lull me back into a deep slumber I never even remembered awakening from.

***
"So." Jin started "who's going to go on a supply run?" I clicked my tongue as we all sat at the table, crossing my arms over my chest as I looked between the two boys seated in front of me. Kim SeokJin, and Kim Namjoon.

The rest of the mystery gang had slowly filed into the room one by one only moments ago, the sounds of Jin's frustrated banshee screech being the source of their arrival.