jm words

I wish I could start over.
There’s so much I wish I never gave up because I was scared. So many things I wish I said when I had the chance. And so many things I shouldn’t have said to the wrong people. I just want to start all over and live my life the way I want to. I want to be myself. I want to know that maybe if I had been myself from the start, I wouldn’t be so unhappy right now.
—  J.M. // Wishes don’t come true.
001.drabble game\jm

13, 23, 27 with jm

Word Count: 318

Released: RE-UPLOAD

The clock read fifteen till midnight, and you were still up watching your dramas on your laptop. Your room was pitch black and the only source of light was the LED radiating from the screen. Late nights like these, you knew Jimin was out having a late dance practice, and usually you would stay up until he came home just to greet him. Engulfed in your show, you didn’t hear Jimin walk through the front door.

“I’m home!” His cheery voice echoed through the halls, but in your room, the sound of the show drowned him out. Not to mention, you had your headphones in. His eyebrows furrowed as his kicked off his shoes and walked to the bedroom. Opening the door and letting a crack of light in, there you were in a puddle of your own tears, tissues spread all through your bed. Alarmed, Jimin swung the door wide open, letting light in and burning your retinas.

“Are you okay?!” He asked, turning the light on and rushing to your side. As you grabbed another tissue to blow your nose, you took out your headphones and calmly spoke to him.

“It-it’s nothing, but my favourite character just died…” You said, grabbing another tissue. Jimin let out a small chuckle and placed his hand on your back, gently rubbing circles to comfort you.

“You’re so cute, Y/N,” his lips kissing your forehead, “Do you need water? A snack? Maybe a hot bath…?”

Shrugging, you sniffle again, “I already took a bath, and I ate already since it’s so close to mid-“

“Wait…is that my shirt?!”

You froze for a minute before turning to face him, sheepishly smiling.

“I couldn’t help it. Your shirts are always so soft.” You push the fabric up to your face, emphasizing the texture. Letting out a sigh, he smiled again and kissed your forehead.

“Don’t worry. You look cute in my shirt.”