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npookie0 · 3 months ago

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okay…… i might be onto something or on something, but kc but highschool au !!?

Serial killers but put them in an high school.

Okay so who's what <3 Ronin Beaufort - your bad boy who's a delinquent, he's also mathematically smart and attends literature class for shits and giggles. Angel | Maria de la Rosa - the school's popular girl, interested in media, has a YouTube channel, she's asked by the school's photography club to model for them, attends social classes. V | Valentin Viljoen - Student council's president, helps anyone who needs his help, his morals are strong, too strong sometimes, law and social focused subjects. Misaki - The weird and silly art kid, fails math class, art club's vice president, goes to artistic classes. Luca - The loud sports guy, has a lot of friends, athletic, is friends with the quiet exchange student from France. Feli - French, exchange student, biology and chemistry are her strong suit, she's interested in pyrotechnics, loner, her only friends are Luca and Angel. Vince - Geography teacher and the class' supervising teacher, married and has two kids, his lessons are mostly about his wife, sunsets and kids. Ai Hua - Chemistry teacher, secretive, shipped with prof. Vince, (Married to him but the kids don't have to know that)

Broken lovers. - Angel x Ronin.

"Well, well. Look who it is! The school's queen bee herself!"

His voice rang in Angel's ears as she entered the detention class, it was Maria's first ever detention, and she didn't even deserve it! That guy! He was trying to touch her friend, so she obviously stepped in and if words aren't working, then fists are. And now, she's here. Her phone in the teacher's hands, she could only sit there for another three hours and "rethink her behaviour".

"Oh shut up Beaufort."

Beaufort, the guy who spends more time in detention than any other student, sometimes he deserves it, sometimes he doesn't. He isn't a bad person, Angel thinks that he's just misunderstood but she isn't so willing to see for herself.

"Awh? What got Saint Maria so on the edge?"

He stood up when he saw her going towards a seat far away from his, he was in the mood to annoy someone, and someone who Ronin saw as a privileged girl with the silver spoon was perfect for that. He took the seat next to her and titled his head to the side when he saw how upset she looked.

"C'mon, spill your guts. What could the good girl have done to end up here with the school's filthy rot?"

Angel gave him the biggest side eye she had ever gave anyone, his "edgy buy" type of speech was giving her the ick, how could anyone speak like that and keep a straight face? But he wasn't wrong, she heard the teachers use worse names when they were talking about him, so to call himself filthy rot was almost a compliment. Maria sighed, maybe ranting to Ronin would let her nerves out? She couldn't record a new vlog with this anger boiling in her veins and burning her body alive.

"One of the basketball team assholes wasn't keeping his hands to himself when my friend was telling him to leave her alone, he wasn't listening so I had to use other means of explanation, He ended up with a broken nose and I ended up here." She paused and scoffed, her expression showing anger, irritation. "Fucking hell, he was the one harassing her, but I'm the one being punished? Men are so privileged!"

Ronin watched her outburst, smirk forming on his lips. Oh this is interesting. The school's little miss perfect punching someone? Ronin would never believe anyone if they told him so. He clicked his tongue and looked up at the ceiling.

"I hope his little pathetic ego was broken then. Because how could a big strong guy let a tiny little woman ever punch him?" He chuckled. "If you want your reputation to stay clean doll, I may throw in some punches for you."

He outstretched his hand to her. Angel looked at his hand, then at his face, and with a slight smile accepted his hand.

"Oh? You want to do the dirty work for me?"

She asked in her signature sweet tone.

"Wouldn't want school's favourite girl to get her hands dirty, now would we?"

Angel giggled in reply. What a funny guy, she thought to herself.

And that's how their friendship started.

They met up after school, mostly after Ronin left the detention, he really was there a lot. Their relationship was kept a secret, or so they thought it wasn't hard to notice the small smiles and glances, they should really learn how to keep things a secret. Ronin was intrigued with Maria, for someone who played the role of a saint, someone who's sweet like an angel, she was really blunt with him; swearing and ranting on the guys she has to deal with, shouting from rooftops whenever Ronin took her to one, kicking walls angrily. Her show of emotion was like a reward for Ronin, the stoic girl was raw with him, he could see her true self. Of course he didn't know everything, he didn't know about how hard she was pushing herself to work, how destructive her perfectionist nature was. But he held his secrets too, Maria wasn't aware of his grotesque, she didn't need to know that Ronin was living as someone else in the past, for now at least.

Ronin was sitting on the floor, Angel was sitting on the bed behind him, her hands in his hair. They spent time like this whenever Angel needed to talk about things that she never shared with anyone, be it an annoying asshole or a weird message from a creepy fan she received. Ronin let her play with his hair, make them into little braids or just brushing them with her fingers, it was a pleasant feeling. He didn't need to say anything, of course he wouldn't be himself if he didn't drop a comment in his style, but he knew that Maria didn't need comfort, she just wanted to be listened to, for someone to hear her.

"Ro… Why is this world built around men?"

She sighed, exhaustion heard in her voice. She was just telling him about how one of the guys from school tried to sneak into the girls' locker room, his argument for that was 'but I'm trans, you're not transphobic Maria right?' Fortunetely the teacher yelled at him and he didn't enter. But if only a man could stop another man from doing something like that, then how could women ever stay safe? Maria tried to bring it up with the headmaster but he just waved his hand dismissively and told her to leave the boys be.

Ronin titled his head back, the top of his head resting against Maria's knees.

"Dunno, wish I knew that too babe." He clicked his tongue. "This world is a fucking trashcan, people mixed up together, paper next to glass, brand new toy next to rotten food."

Angel giggled at his words.

"Again with the edgy bull Ro? Wow, maybe I should write that down and ask your literature teacher to hang these wonderful quotes up?"

She joked and leaned forward, her face hoovering above Ronin's. She felt so comfortable with him, he was the only guy who ever let her be herself with him, gave her this feeling of safety and freedom. Her heart was always beating louder whenever they were in close proximity, Ronin's casual flirting was making her face heat up, and he used it against her. That's when it hit her.

She likes him. She liked this asshole, this annoying bastard who never fails to support her.

Her face heated up when she realised that she was looking at Ronin's lips dangerously long.

"If you wanna kiss me, then do it. Show what a strong girl you are Maria."

Ronin whispered, his eyes locked into hers. This caused a shiver to run down her spine, why did he read her so well?

"Oh? So you want the queen bee to kiss you?"

She answered, her tone teasing after she got herself together.

"Hah, why not. I'll run her with my rot, make it her safe haven, filth will be like a warm home and I will be the centre of it."

"Oh shut up Beaufort."

The exact words she said on their first meeting, now she really made him shut up, with her lips against his.

Chaos Incarnates. - Misaki x Ronin

Misaki would never expect themselves to stand in front of their boyfriend's, Ronin Beaufort's door, breath heavy, tear stains on their cheeks.

They were just done with a phone call with their parents, they just came out as non binary and the only thing they heard in answer was the beeping sounds of the call ending. Their own parents didn't accept them, they blocked their number, blocked them anywhere they had them. Misaki felt so miserable, they just needed acceptance was it so much?

Ronin opened the door to his dorm, his roommate Luca was nowhere to be seen, probably trying to get Feli's attention again. Ronin looked down at his partner, seeing them in that state was definitely not ideal and somehow he didn't need to ask to guess what happened. After all they were happily telling him about calling her parents just yesterday. This image was the exact opposite to how they usually looked, Misaki was usually covered in paint, haired messed, pencils and brushes somewhere in their pockets because they forgot to put them away and a big smile on their face, never leaving.

Ronin and Misaki were the schools chaotic duo, leaving them alone for five minutes would probably result in the school setting on fire. Once they were put together in detention and the blackboard fell to the floor because Misaki tried to show Ronin that they could climb on it, they in fact did… and ended up with a twisted ankle.

But this Misaki was different, they were in pieces, broken by their parents' reaction, by how they couldn't even be told it to their face because they're in a boarding school in the USA and their parents are in Japan, on the other side on the world. They just wanted to hear it, see the reaction, anything but just see that their messages couldn't be delivered.

"Ronin… I… I fucked up."

They sniffed and clung onto him, their arms wrapping around him as they poured their heart out, letting every emotion leave their body. Ronin pulled them into his dorms, kicking the doors close and helping them sit down on his bed. They didn't let go, no, they held onto him like he's their only life line now.

"Misaki, breath in and out."

He said, cradling them and rubbing their back with his hand. They were practically choking on their tears, so breathing was really needed now.

Slowly they calmed down, still sobbing into Ronin's chest.

"I can't fucking believe this… Not only did I probably fail my math exam I also lost my parents util they'll need me for something again."

They sniffed, looking up at Ronin.

"This sucks so much, and hurts… even more than that."

Ronin cupped their face with his hand and kissed their forehead.

"Hey, I'm a professional in losing parents, you're not so alone here."

He said, his tone light, but worry still present in his gaze.

"You're such an asshole."

They mumbled and elbowed him.

"That's what you love about me, my chaotic partner."

"More like partner in crime."

They snorted out.

"Yeah same shit, go to sleep, or you won't make it for that art competition or whatever that was."

"You want to kiss me so bad, it makes you look stupid." V x Ronin

Valentin entered the student council, his gaze falling at the guy sitting in his chair, his clothes dark, spiky, screaming trouble from miles away. Ronin Beaufort. The vile of his existence, the sole school's reputation destroyer and the biggest troublemaker V has ever met. His grin made Valentin want to punch him, but he had to be better than that. Stay calm, don't give in into his provocation. That's what he was telling himself, making sure to remember that Ronin just wanted to rile him up, provoke him.

"So, you're here again Beaufort."

He said and tossed the file of Ronin's documents onto the desk, not even commenting on the seat Ronin chose to wait for him in.

"Awh, we both know how much you missed me, you just love seeing my face dontcha?"

Valentin's eye twitched when he heard that, oh how he wanted to wipe that smirk off of Ronin's face, see him apologise for all he did and get punished, unfortunately he could only wish for it now, but maybe someday in the future he will be the one making sure that Ronin ends up in jail if he becomes a criminal how he's destined to.

"Just fill the report Beaufort, write the usual lie and leave me alone."

He crossed his arms over his chest, a long sigh leaving his lips. Ronin's presence alone was exhausting to V, his loud and vile behaviour were enough to suck out all off Valentin's energy.

"You want to kiss me so bad, it makes you look stupid."

Ronin's words caused Valentin to back away from the desk he was standing by.

"What sort of nonsense are you spewing?"

The warmness on his face was making him feel embarrassed. Great, now that asshole will have a new reason to make his life miserable, how mortifyingly thrilling. He cough, trying to turn the delinquent's attention away from his word's affects on himself.

"Just get the hell out Beaufort, and pray that I won't see you here again."

He said and watched Ronin stand up and walk around the desk to stand in front of him.

"Yeah, yeah, you say the same bullshit every time I'm here." He chuckled and pushed one of V's braids to the side, earning himself a scowl. "See you soon goody two shoes."

The next few days were terrible for Valentin, Ronin was getting himself in even more trouble, ending up in the student council's room even more than before. And the worst part? He was flirting with V, trying to make him flustered and always getting the result he wanted. Valentin was gritting his teeth, trying to appear calm and collected. Of course Ronin saw through that, it was impossible for a person like Valentin to hide his feelings, that's why it was so entertaining for Ronin, just watching the ever so calm and helping Valentin be so angry that he wants to punch him? Oh that was the best thing, the satisfaction was indescribable.

"Oh V, V, poor little V. Come on, we both know you want to feel my lips on yours."

Ronin said when V was giving him another scolding for 'saying nonsense', he would be lying if he said that V wasn't attractive, oh he was. And it made it all even better for Ronin, seeing the burning fire in V's eyes, even if that fire was hate, it didn't matter. What mattered was that it was all meant for him, he was the only one who could get these reactions out of Valentin and he loved it.

"You're delusional."

Valentin said, his eyes never leaving Ronin, even when he stood inches away from him, his body too close to his. That proximity made his face heat up.

"You want me, you know you want me. You want to see if I'm not right, you want to feel my lips and know that you are correct about hating me."

He whispered. Apparently it was enough for Valentin, he really did close the small gap between them, catching Ronin's lips in a kiss. Oh he's terrible, Ronin thought to himself and barely kept his smirk back, he held Valentin by the back of his head, not letting him break the kiss. Ronin was about to give him the best kissing experience of his life.

That kiss was heated, Ronin puling on Valentin's lower lip to slip his tongue into his mouth. V desperately trying to have the upper hand but Ronin wasn't going to give up. He kept Valentin blocked between himself and the desk.

Finally they had to pause, panting heavily, a thick streak silva being the only proof of what just happened.

"Hah, you really did want that kiss, didn't you pretty prince?"

To help a lost cause. - Misaki x V

Per usual Valentin was walking around the library, looking for a new book to find, but instead of a book he found a student. Crying in a corner with a paper next to them, it was a test paper marked '5/80'. Valentin winced seeing that, of course he knew that many students were failing, but he never saw any that reacted this badly. He felt like he should try to do something to help them out. He crouched down next to the student and tapped them gently on their shoulder.

"Um, excuse me.. uh do you need help?"

He asked awkwardly, talking to strangers in situations like these wasn't his strong suit, but he had to push through it. The student looked up at him, their eyes red and puffy from crying, their sweater wet from wiping tears in it, they were shaking. To put it simply, they were a mess.

"And can you make me magically better at maths?"

The question sounded offensive, but V understood that they felt a lot of things at once and could need someone to pour their frustrations onto.

"I can help you study actually. I'm already doing tutoring, I can tutor you too."

He said, the person shook their head.

"I'm short on money, I can barely cover the dorms and school fees."

They said and looked down at their feet, probably ashamed after admitting that.

"I'm not doing it for money, I want to help you…"

"My name is Misaki."

They said when Valentin paused not knowing how to call them.

"So, how about I help you with your studies Misaki?"

He asked.

Misaki thought about it, there was no real reason for them to refuse, he looked like someone academically smart and he offered his help for free… there would be only guilt for wasting his time, but he didn't look like he cared about his time.

"Mmm. alright."

They nodded their head and sniffed. Maybe they could really get better at math? Maybe their parents would be proud?

Misaki were meeting up at the library three times a week, it was supposed to be only one time in the original plan but after seeing how far behind Misaki is in their studies, Valentin decided on three times. The tutoring was a struggle, Misaki was easily distracted, gave up quickly and called themselves stupid for every little mistake. Valentin had to take a few ten minutes breaks to explain to Misaki that it really is okay to make mistakes and to let them get back into studying after that break. It actually worked some wonders, Misaki wasn't so stressed about math anymore, they got slightly better marks, but they insisted on having the tutoring until their midterm exam, afraid of failing it without Valentin's help.

"Vvvv I don't get this!"

Misaki whined after they couldn't get the task right.

"Show me."

He said and looked over their shoulder at what they wrote… well he wouldn't understand if he had to learn from their notes too.

"Try again, but this time slower and plan everything out Misaki, here-" He drawn a small box. "Do this part." He circled one of the beginning steps. "Section everything so you will be able to read it clearer."

Misaki nodded eagerly and got back to work. After a while a happy exclaim was heard.

"Yay! I got it right, thanks V, my hero!"

They chuckled and leaned it to hug him, laughing when he stopped them with his hand.

"Continue Misaki or you'll get distracted again."

Really, they were worse than a curious child when it came to getting distracted, any small noise could make them turn their attention somewhere else entirely. It was really hard to work around but once V got a hand of it, he could control Misaki's attention span and make sure that they're doing their work.

Finally, the big day of Misaki's midterm exam results arriving. Valentin was standing in front of the school, Misaki told him to wait there, and to bring a pack of tissues just in case. He was tapping his foot against the ground, looking for the short Asian in the crowd. Finally he saw them, running out with the biggest smile on their lips, they ran up to him and practically jumped on him. He caught them instinctively.

"Ohgodohgodohgodohgod! We did it V! I got the best grade in my class!"

They were beaming, proud and happy. It was a beautiful sight, especially after seeing them so anxious and burned out.

"Thank you so much for your help."

They said and looked into his eyes.

"I will repay your kindness, I swear."

Angelic muse. - Misaki x Angel

Angel was sitting on a chair in the art club's room, Misaki asked her to pose for them, and who was she to turn down her partner when they asked her to pose? They always made sure that she was comfortable, telling her to take breaks, giving her drinks or food. Sometimes Angel walked up to the canvas and looked at how far in the painting was.

"It's so beautiful Misaki."

She said and kissed Misaki's cheek.

"You're such a good painter love."

She smiled and hugged them, not caring about the paint that could get on her clothes or skin.

"Only because of my amazing model."

They replied with a cheeky grin.

"If you're tired we can wrap it up and go out for a walk."

"Yeah I could use a break…"

Angel sighed and Misaki immediately cupped her face with their paint stained hands, worry in their eyes and written all over their face.

"What happened? Are your 'fans' still acting like disgusting creeps?"

They asked, irritation joining in to the worry. Angel's so called 'fans' were truly disgusting, sending explicit 'fan art' or sending messages about how they would love to do things with her. They all made Misaki so angry, but Angel just told them that she accepted it.

"No… it's the guys from the football team, they were just eugh…"

That was enough for MIsaki to understand.

The football team were also really wonderful people, sexist assholes who tried to get girls to date them or have sex with them, Angel being the most commonly picked victim because she's just so hot and wants them. Sometimes Misaki steps in or sometimes they don't need to because the school's biggest delinquent is already dealing with the problem, while breaking his nose and beating him up. Misaki was glad that Angel had a friend like Ronin, at least they could be sure that their girl will be kept safe.

"Oh, so a walk and something sweet?"

Misaki asked and Angel answered with a short chuckle.

"Oh, you're such a sweetheart Misaki, thank you."

"Anything for you, my angel."

Angel blushed at the nickname.

"Who gave you the right to be this cute?"

#killer chat #killer chat ronin #fanfic #fluff #asks #v killer chat #angel killer chat #misaki killer chat #high school au

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jimxnslight · 1 year ago

Text

Chapter 3: Stalker [M]

Summary: “A manwhore and a junkie… it’s a match made in heaven.”

Pairing: Park Jimin x Reader

Genre: High School au, angst

Word Count: 7.4k

Warnings: 18+, substance use disorder/drug addiction, PTSD, child abuse, additional warnings might be added as story progresses.

A/N: Sorry for taking so long to update, my motivation has just been so bad because of uni. And now with exams coming up, I can't really promise anything, but after my exams are over I'll definitely be more active!

<< previous chapter || masterlist || next chapter >>

“God, I want you to absolutely wreck me.”

The bedroom suddenly quieted, its dim lighting beginning to wrap around the walls and furniture of the room to form an uncomfortably suffocating atmosphere. Or maybe Jimin was just projecting his own deteriorating feelings onto the innocent space. He was well aware that his mind shouldn’t have latched onto the words of the innocent woman he currently had pinned to his bed, shouldn’t have started picturing her wishes in his head, yet he couldn’t stop it. He’s never been able to stop it. But that didn’t stop him from trying every time.

The more he envisioned the actions, the more he could feel those familiar ghostly hands crawl up his spine. His mind grasped at something, anything else to focus on.

In his desperation, his unsteady gaze dropped to the girl beneath him. She was the epitome of conventionally attractive, with long, light brown hair sprawled around his mattress and dainty facial features. Modelling agencies would probably die for this girl if she gave them a chance.

But at the moment she was just a distraction. Or at least she had been, until she had opened her mouth.

The logical part of him tried to remind himself that her words were just that: words. She was just a horny girl expressing her preferences. It made sense, considering what they were about to do. And if anything, Jimin appreciated it when women told him what they wanted. It made his life a lot easier.

But those particular wishes churned uneasily in his stomach as he felt the hands continue to travel up his spine, finding a cosy spot on his neck. His heartbeat, which had been racing for an entirely different reason, now thumped painfully in his chest as it quickened in pace.

This can’t be happening right now, he thought with a mixture of frustration and desperation.

Jimin pushed the impending, but familiar, feeling aside, choosing instead to focus on Emily.

That had clearly been a mistake.

“Like, tie me down. Choke me. Use me like a freaking slut. I swear I haven’t been railed in weeks,” she continued while running her fingers through his hair, completely oblivious to Jimin’s deteriorating state.

The feelings he had shoved aside pounded against his poorly constructed dam, fueled by the implications of Emily’s words. He could feel the ghostly hands press harder against his neck, labouring his breathing in the process. It was a telltale sign of the panic that had become so familiar to him. He knew now that there was no escaping this episode, no matter how hard he tried to steady his breathing and calm his nerves.

What he needed to do was get out of here.

“Those are a lot of demands to cover in one morning,” he said with a forced chuckle, hoping his voice wasn’t as shaky as he felt, “give me a minute, I’ll be right back.”

Before Emily could protest, Jimin slipped off the bed and half stumbled into his bathroom, just barely managing to lock the door.

And just like that, the dam broke.

Jimin collapsed onto the tiled floor, desperately trying to get some air into his lungs as memories started to flood his mind. They flashed before him like a montage, nightmare after nightmare stealing his ability to breath. At first, he was back in his childhood home, watching his father push his mother down a flight of stairs while screaming at her like a madman. Jimin could feel his heart racing in his chest as he wondered if she was dead.

But before he could run to her, his memories moved onto the day his father found out his wife had left. Jimin hadn’t even registered the fact that he’d never see his mother again before his father was on him, shouting at him while his hands enclosed around his neck harder.

Then he was in his old bedroom, watching the bat in his hands crash into his father’s head as he heard a feminine scream. There was blood everywhere, in the room, on his hands. He tried to wipe it off frantically as it burned his skin, but it didn’t matter. The more he wiped off, the more it spread up his arms.

All he could do was sit helplessly on the floor of the bathroom, head between his knees, as he shook uncontrollably and gasped for air. But the air wouldn’t come. It was like the ghostly hands had finally succeeded in crushing his windpipe and he could no longer fill his lungs.

Jimin lurched forward suddenly, feeling his heart hammer painfully in his chest. He swore this time was different.

He swore this time he was going to die.

His hand slapped desperately against the counter before it made contact with smooth metal. Relieved, his fingers wrapped around it, pulling it upwards until he could hear the faint sounds of water rushing out of the faucet. He tried to aim his attention to the sound of the water spewing out of the tap, listening intently to the way it sputtered out of the circular piece of metal. Then he focused on the water splashing against the smooth marble sink, running against it momentarily before it was swallowed up by the drain. He could hear the water crash against the pipes under his sink as they whisked the water away.

It took him what felt like hours to really focus on the sound, letting it sooth him as much as it could. Jimin imagined his memories and panic seeping down the drain alongside it, the black plastic pipes guiding them far away from himself and his house. His breathing started getting a little easier with every passing moment as the memories of his father began to seep back into the locked portion of his mind.

With small pockets of air now able to enter his lungs, Jimin managed to bring his hand down to the floor. He dragged two of his fingers against it in circles, focusing on the cold of the tile seeping into his fingertips and the rough line of grout between them. He inhaled as his finger met one half of the circle, stalling there for a moment, before exhaling as he completed the round.

When Jimin finally felt himself calm, only the remnants of a few mild tremors left, he let his back drop against the glass side of his walk-in shower with a sigh. A lingering soreness was spreading throughout his chest as he felt his sweat-soaked shirt stick to his back. Although he was more than familiar with episodes like these, he couldn’t help but wonder why this one had been so particularly bad.

Either way, the “attack” had left him exhausted, to the point that Jimin almost considered skipping school today. It was especially tempting, considering how much Taehyung had been bothering him recently about the therapy and whether it was working. Jimin had to remind him that he had only gone to one session, though he didn’t mention just how much he had hated it.

But Jimin knew that there were a few concepts he needed to clarify in his first class, so ditching school was out of the question.

Not to mention, Jimin’s second period had gotten a lot more interesting when the school had decided to transfer him to a different class because of a few scheduling issues. Particularly your presence had intrigued him, because he was so confused as to how he’d never noticed you before. Sure, Jimin had only been attending this school for the past two years, but he still found it hard to believe that the two of you had never crossed paths. He’d have definitely remembered if that were the case. You were, without a doubt, the most attractive woman he’d ever met, there was no way he would have overlooked a face like that.

Jimin stretched forward, just barely managing to close the faucet without having to get up from his position on the floor. You were fun to tease, and definitely something during sex. Jimin didn’t think he’d ever enjoyed sex as much as he had with you.

His gaze dropped as he remembered the bottle that had been clutched in your hand that night at Taehyung’s house. It had been a shock to him that you were using, even though technically he was well aware he didn’t know you at all. He wondered if your addiction stopped at Adderall, or did you do more than just that? He hoped you didn’t, for your sake.

Jimin had wanted to say something about it when he had dropped you off, encourage you to choose a different path for yourself. But he couldn’t seem to find the right words. He had used them all up when his father was still alive, none of which were successful of course. So instead he had walked away, guilt nibbling away at him with every step.

“Jimin?”

Jimin’s head snapped towards the door as Emily’s muffled voice passed through it. He had practically forgotten that she was still there, too wrapped up in his panic and then his thoughts to remember that she’d probably been waiting for him to come back to his bed. He knew he couldn’t do it. She clearly wanted things that he just couldn’t give her. The prospect of having to explain some lousy excuse to her suddenly made him exhausted all over again.

But thankfully Emily spoke up again before he could reply, “look, my first class starts soon and I can’t miss it. I guess we’ll have to do this another time.”

He could hear the disappointment in her tone before he listened to the sound of her footsteps as she walked out of his bedroom, followed by the sound of his front door shutting quickly. When he was sure she was gone, he stood from his spot and made his way to his bedroom, picking up his phone to confirm the time. Emily wasn’t wrong, his first class was starting soon. He would have to get going as well.

Jimin walked back to his bathroom, standing in front of the mirror above the sink. His gaze scanned the damp, rust-coloured hair sticking to his forehead, and then the beads of sweat travelling down his neck. He grimaced. First, he needed a shower.

Jiwoo was in a mood.

You had begun to suspect as much at the end of your first class, when she had kicked your bag while stomping out of the classroom. Although Jiwoo was always pulling stunts like that, she’d usually accompany it with an irritating taunt or mocking expression. But it wasn’t until right before second period, when she had purposely bumped into the open pencil case on your desk to scatter it all over the floor, when you became certain.

Jiwoo was in a mood.

You watched her drop into her seat near the front of the class with an angry huff, uncharacteristically not even bothering to spare you a fake “oops.” Normal Jiwoo was far from a saint, but god did annoyed Jiwoo unlock a different type of rage in you. Her irritation made you wonder how her parents’ divorce was going. Probably not great, if her mood today was anything to go on.

With an annoyed sigh, you slipped off your chair and lowered yourself to the floor to focus on collecting your things, trying to calm your raging heartbeat and shaking hands in the process. You weren’t sure whether it was because of Jiwoo or the Ritalin. This was your third day on Ritalin even though you had vowed to never take the stuff again. You didn’t really have much of a choice. There was still no news on Yoongi, which meant you were still out of Adderall. And although Ritalin made you crazy with nerves, it still somehow managed to help you focus on your schoolwork. Not to mention you’d much rather be a jittery mess than the dead zombie that your Adderall crash had reduced you to.

Unfortunately, until you could get your hands on some Adderall, Ritalin was your only option.

You shoved the last of your supplies into your pencil case, brows furrowing when you noticed that you were missing your eraser. But one scan of the floor showed no sign of the white rubber.

You checked under your desk and then your chair, wondering where it could have disappeared to.

It wasn’t until a pair of black dress shoes and grey dress pants appeared in your line of sight when you realised where your eraser had gone.

“Looking for something?” Jimin asked in a teasing tone, holding out your white eraser between the tips of his index and middle fingers.

Your gaze reluctantly travelled up to his smug face, the feeling of annoyance a natural response to his presence at this point.

“Stealing my car wasn’t enough? Now you want my eraser too?”

Jimin’s head tilted for a moment before he rested a hand on your desk and leaned forward so that his next words could only be heard by you.

“Why would I want anything more when I’ve already got you on your knees for me, kitten?”

You rolled your eyes, ignoring the tempting view of his sharp jawline, before grabbing your pencil case and pushing yourself off of the ground. Leave it to Jimin to turn every instance into an opportunity to flirt.

“Weren’t you the one that said I had to ask for sex the next time I wanted it? What happened to that?” You asked with a low voice before taking back your eraser.

“I never said I couldn’t be tempting.”

Then, to your surprise, Jimin dropped into the empty desk beside yours instead of his usual seat behind you. It took you a second to register the sudden change, and then another to eye him weirdly.

But before you could ask him what he was doing, Mr. Kim walked into the classroom just as the bell rang. The students rushed to their seats to bring out their textbooks, some of the girls swooning over the alleged new shirt he was wearing. You took your seat quickly, sending Jimin a glare in the process.

Taehyung hurried into the room just after Mr. Kim, slipping unnoticeably past him before dropping into his usual seat. His eyebrows furrowed for a moment when he noticed Jimin wasn’t sitting next to him, and then they furrowed even further when he realised where he was actually sitting.

“Come on man, what happened to bros before hoes?” He muttered under his breath. You almost laughed at his sulky expression.

Mr. Kim began writing the lesson on the whiteboard, “please turn to page 245.”

You turned to the page alongside the rest of the class as Jimin did the same, distantly noticing your leg bouncing up and down unconsciously.

Mr. Kim turned back to the class, beginning the lesson by explaining the concepts on the page he had instructed everyone to turn to. He was one of the better teachers, so you were easily able to understand the seemingly complex concepts.

That was until Jimin started annoying you, just like he had been doing in class for the past few days. It was always small things, like sneakily drawing random doodles in your notebook when you weren’t looking or stealing your pencil every so often. It took everything in you not to throw your eraser at his face. Instead, you dragged your notebook and supplies to the other side of your desk with a huff.

That just made him laugh, one he had to muffle with his hands so Mr. Kim didn’t call him out.

The class went on like this, a mixture of evading Jimin’s antics while simultaneously trying to understand the lesson being taught by Mr. Kim. You honestly had to applaud the guy for being able to escape Mr. Kim’s gaze for so long. He was notoriously known for being an observant teacher, and because of that you were sure he knew a lot more student secrets than he let on.

However, Jimin’s antics had to come to an abrupt end when Mr. Kim placed his whiteboard marker down and faced the class, seemingly finished with teaching the lesson. He called up two students, handing them both stacks of papers to hand out to the rest of the class.

“Your next assignment will consist of a presentation closely resembling a seminar, where each group will be expected to accurately teach the class on an assigned topic,” he explained, characteristically professional and thoughtful with his words, “since the goal of this assignment will be to facilitate understanding, I will be expecting the incorporation of some creative elements in order to keep the presentation engaging in addition to being informative.”

One of the students that had been handing out the mini booklets finally reached you and Jimin, handing the two of you one each before moving onto Taehyung.

“The booklets in front of you go over the details pertaining to this assignment. Therefore, I expect you all to read through them thoroughly to avoid losing marks over small mistakes.”

Mr. Kim suddenly smiled, “although, with this being your senior year I doubt you all require such a reminder anyway.”

You watched Jiwoo’s hand shoot into the air as you tried to keep Jimin’s hands off your booklet. Mr. Kim nodded towards her before she spoke, “will we get to choose our own groups?”

“No, I will be assigning the groups, as well as the topics,” he replied, earning him a number of whines and groans. But Mr. Kim merely chuckled, amused, but not willing to change his mind.

He then turned to the first row of students, grouping them in pairs based on their seating. You groaned inwardly when you realised the pattern he was going by and who, in that case, would end up being your partner.

“Jimin and Y/N,” Mr. Kim grouped, but then paused when he noticed Taehyung sitting without the deskmate, “and Taehyung.”

“Mr. Kim,” Jiwoo said once again, but this time you rolled your eyes knowing what she was going to bring up, “isn’t it unfair that one group has three students? That will lessen their workload compared to everyone else!”

You noticed Jiwoo send you a mocking smile for a moment, clearly trying to incite you.

Witch.

“You may rest assured, Ms. Kim. I will ensure everything is as fair as possible,” he reassured with a small smile. But Jiwoo just slid down in her seat, annoyed that her plan to make your life harder had pretty much failed.

You wished she turned around so you could send her your fakest smile. On one hand was Jiwoo, the most annoying witch in existence, and then on another hand was Jimin, the most annoying jerk in existence.

What has your life come to?

When the bell finally rang and Mr. Kim dismissed the class, you crumpled one of your rough pieces of paper and threw it at Jimin’s face with a glare.

It wasn’t much, but boy did it make you feel better.

“What was that for?” He asked, failing miserably at stifling a laugh.

“You know what.”

Ignoring Jimin’s amused glance, you packed your bag as your classmates began to chat with each other and started making their way to the cafeteria. You wouldn’t be heading there, though, since you usually spent your breaks in the library studying. It just felt better to get all your work out of the way so you could go home and just sleep for hours.

You walked out of the classroom, thankful that you could finally get away from the annoying thing known as Park Jimin, and then began walking to the library. The hallways were full of students relaxing and playing around with each other, making you think of Namjoon. He was away on some trip for a maths competition. Or maybe it was for a science competition? Either way, he was off doing his nerd stuff, so you couldn’t invite him to hang out after you finished studying.

You made it to the library’s front desk, sending a smile to the main librarian who returned it sweetly.

“Hello, have the study room schedules been made yet?” You asked.

She answered your question with a nod and, after giving her your name, she began searching the computer for your schedule.

Since the demand for the very limited number of study rooms in the library was so high, the school had decided to come up with a schedule system for the students that wished to use them, because a first come, first serve approach would be much too “barbaric” for a private school of course. Each student was given a schedule for which study room they were assigned to and when they could use it.

“Hi, can I get my study schedule please?” A voice asked, “my name is Park Jimin.”

Your gaze snapped to your side, finding Jimin standing right next to you.

Seriously?

“So you’ve resorted to stalking me now?” You asked, causing Jimin to turn to you with a surprised expression.

When his gaze fell on you, he grinned.

“How come I’m the stalker? You could very well be the one stalking me,” he said.

Before you could reply, the librarian walked back to her desk and handed you and Jimin your printed schedules. The two of you thanked her before walking over to the library’s elevator while looking them over.

Thankfully, you were scheduled for a study room on Wednesdays during break, so you didn’t have to find somewhere else to study at the moment.

You eyed Jimin when he followed you into the elevator, watching as he pressed the button to the floor you were also going to. The two of you seemed to be finding yourselves in each other’s presence a lot lately. It made you groan inwardly, knowing that the semester had only just begun.

It was like having a second Jiwoo since you and her were usually thrown together a lot due to your familial ties, but at least Jimin didn’t kick your bag or slap your pencil case to the ground. That earned him at least a few more points in your book.

The book’s name? “The Most Annoying People in Kim Y/N’s Life,” of course.

The elevator door dinged as it revealed the hallway of the second floor. Jimin walked out of it first, unfortunately taking a right into the hallway, which was the same way you were going.

You followed him reluctantly.

“Who’s following who now, kitten?” He said with a smirk, an eyebrow raised at you.

You simply huffed, “shut up.”

You didn’t bother to come up with a better comeback. All you had to do was make it to your study room, then you could finally get rid of him. This day had been filled with way too much Jimin, and you were actually looking forward to doing homework in a nice and quiet room over having to deal with his annoying butt.

Jimin continued through the hallway until he stopped in front of the door to the farthest study room from the elevator. The action made your eyes widen.

“No,” you denied immediately, stomping over to him before grabbing his schedule from his hand, “no way. There’s no way.”

Your mouth fell open as you took in his schedule, almost exactly identical to your own. The only day in which your and Jimin’s schedules didn’t align was Monday. Only one out of the five days of school in a week would you be free of him. No way. There was no way this was possible. Of all the insane things…

While you were distracted, a confused Jimin took your own schedule from your hands, looking over it curiously. It only took him a second to figure out what your issue was, but when he did, he couldn’t help himself.

Jimin burst into a fit of laughter.

“Stop laughing, this isn’t funny,” you whined, smacking the paper against his head. That only made him laugh harder as he fell to the floor with a hand clutching his stomach.

“Guess we’re stuck with each other now,” Jimin managed through his laughter.

You rolled your eyes, choosing instead to walk past him into the room. Fine, if you were going to be stuck with him, then you were just going to have to ignore his presence completely. It was the only ray of hope in your seemingly continuous misery.

You dropped into a seat at the large table, spreading your work out as you opened your laptop and began typing furiously against the innocent keys.

After a few minutes Jimin walked into the room, closing it behind him before he thankfully dropped into a chair away from yours and brought out his own work. You risked a glance upwards, catching a smirk on his lips that made your blood boil.

Your eyes stayed glued to your screen after that.

You expected him to annoy you the same way he had during your second period class by stealing your pencils or throwing a paper plane at you, but instead he remained focused on his work for a full half an hour straight. That came as a surprise to you because you honestly hadn’t been expecting him to be very studious. Maybe it was because he had annoyed you during class. Or maybe it was because you had unintentionally believed in the stereotype against guys that slept around. Either way, it was surprising when you managed to get through half an hour worth of work without any disturbances.

After half an hour, though, Jimin sighed, leaning back in his chair as he stretched his arms behind him. He’d taken off his blazer, so you could see the defined lines of his muscles stretch under his dress shirt. Your straying gaze quickly shot back to your screen, but not before Jimin had noticed your curious eyes. He smirked.

You were able to work for a few more minutes before Jimin suddenly leaned forward, eyeing you curiously.

“So,” he said, causing you to turn your head towards him questionably, “how did your dad end up reacting?”

You furrowed your eyebrows, “what?”

“After the party, when you came home after midnight. I’m surprised he wasn’t already standing on the porch with a shotgun ready.”

You snorted, unable to imagine your dad doing that, “my dad’s not like that.”

“Oh, so he was cool with it and everything?” He asked.

You shifted in your seat, “no… I mean, I don’t know. He wasn’t home that night.”

Jimin nodded, “business trip?”

“Kind of. He’s a truck driver,” you explained, a little weirded out by the suddenly normal conversation but still appreciating the unexpected break from your work, “he’s usually only home on weekends. Otherwise he’s out driving across the country.”

Jimin’s eyes widened, “so he leaves you alone during the entire week? And sometimes he doesn’t even come back on the weekends?”

You shrugged, finding it odd how surprised Jimin looked, “yeah? I’m not a kid, it’s not that big of a deal.”

Jimin’s gaze dropped to the table in front of him, seemingly deep in thought. But you noticed a slight scowl in his features.

Weird.

You shifted to face Jimin, a question coming to mind, “but why are you only asking about my dad?”

Jimin didn’t look up from the table, “I heard what that girl said about your mom last Friday… I just kind of assumed…”

The room quieted into what felt like an awkward silence. You had the feeling that something you said had cut the surprisingly normal conversation short, but there was nothing you said that could have offended him so you didn’t really understand why that was.

You turned back to your work, brushing against the touchpad to light up your laptop’s screen once again. After sending one final curious glance at Jimin, you went back to your work.

But Jimin was clearly lost in thought.

The first thing Jimin noticed when he walked into the room was Lauren, who was sitting on one of the beige sofas situated next to the glass coffee table. She had been looking down at the binder she had shown him in their last session, reading over something intently before the sound of the door opening had her looking upwards and then smiling.

“Hello Jimin,” she greeted, to which he gave her a curt nod.

Thankfully, Lauren had already situated herself on the sofa facing away from the door, allowing Jimin to sit on the one that gave him a view of both the entrance and the window at the same time. Even in his sour mood, he was able to appreciate the gesture.

He knew Lauren was studying him, taking in his sudden attitude, but to his surprise she didn’t call him out on it. Instead, she closed the binder and placed it beside her on the sofa, bringing a much thinner notebook onto her lap in its place.

“Did you complete the Impact Statement worksheet I assigned in the last session?” She asked, to which Jimin nodded.

He had avoided starting it until the last minute, something he knew Lauren wouldn’t approve of considering she had given him that big speech about avoidance and how it wasn’t helping him. He just couldn’t help it, he’d spent years trying to rid his mind of that night’s memories. Anything that reminded him of it was discarded, any person that reminded him of it was avoided. Even the house had been sold the second it was passed down to him. So doing this Impact Statement? Something that would not only remind him about it, but make him think about it to a deeper extent… it had been hard.

“Could you read your Impact Statement out loud?”

Jimin’s eyebrows pulled together at the random request, confused as to why that was necessary. He wasn’t in kindergarten anymore, where they would make his class take turns reading various children’s books to each other.

He shifted in his seat, clearly uncomfortable with the request. But he couldn’t make a fuss about it. He needed to give this therapy thing a genuine try, especially considering the enormous attack he had this morning.

Jimin brought out the statement from his school bag, unfolding it slowly. He cleared his throat before finally following along the hastily written words.

“This traumatic experience happened because I was stupid and did something horrible. I knew that my father wasn’t himself, I knew that he was under the influence, and yet I still ended up murdering him, my own father, like some kind of psychopath. Saying that that makes me a horrible person feels like an understatement, because being a killer is one thing, but being able to kill your family? That must make me even worse than a murderer. I feel like I don’t deserve anything good because of it. If anything, the world should bring me my karma and just end it already. I think that sometimes… that because of what I did, someone is just silently watching me and waiting for the right moment to get back at me. I feel like I’m never safe, like I constantly have to be on guard whenever I’m out. I feel like people should think the same about me too, they shouldn’t trust me either. My past is evidence enough that I might just lose it and hurt someone. I would hate to do that to Taehyung especially, the only person that’s genuinely been there for me. But anyways, the gist of it is that I’m not a good person. I make bad decisions. I feel unsafe all the time, especially when I’m around other men. Sometimes when I’m out I can imagine every grown man that looks my way hates me the same way my dad did, and that they’d go after me the first chance they got. I don’t want to get close to people because I feel like if I build any kind of genuine relationship, I’ll end up hurting them. That’s why I don’t think Taehyung should have a friend like me, that he deserves better. I don’t know how to make things better. I don’t think I’ll ever be normal again.”

The room fell quiet as Jimin set the paper down on the coffee table, wanting it away from him immediately. He was relieved that he was finally done with this assignment, though he hadn’t noticed how much he had ended up writing despite the limited amount of time he had to complete the worksheet.

“What did it feel like to write and then read the Impact Statement aloud?” Lauren asked, an expression of complete neutrality. He couldn’t help but feel grateful that she wasn’t disgusted by him.

Or at least she wasn’t showing it.

“It was hard,” Jimin admitted, gaze travelling everywhere but her, “honestly I didn’t start the worksheet until just an hour before I came here.”

Lauren surprisingly nodded, “the good thing is that you completed it nonetheless. It is difficult work, Jimin, and you were able to get through it. That takes a lot of strength.”

“But I should remind you that avoidance only helps in maintaining PTSD symptoms, right?”

Jimin nodded.

“How do you feel after reading the Impact Statement?” She asked.

“A little less anxious,” Jimin replied, though it was more the fact that he was relieved it was over than anything else. Whether his improved feelings were because the Impact Statement had actually helped or because of the relief he felt from it being over, there was no doubt that he felt better now compared to the anxiety he had been feeling when walking into this room.

“If doing the assignment in this way made you a little less anxious, then I wonder what it would have been like to have completed the assignment earlier in the week?” Lauren wondered out loud, but she didn’t dwell on it for long. She was clearly keen on changing the topic.

“Now, earlier it seemed that you might have been upset about something. Could you explain to me why that was?”

“It’s nothing,” Jimin said, shaking his head as he leaned back against the sofa. But he could feel his blood begin to boil once again, his thoughts from earlier apparently the flame. His anger simmered to the surface and, before he knew it, he was blurting everything out.

“It’s just… I was talking to this classmate of mine earlier today, just a normal conversation, and she told me something about her dad that kind of pissed me off.”

Lauren tilted her head, “can you tell me what she told you that made you so angry?”

Your words from earlier filled his mind once again, bringing the anger along with them. He had been furious throughout the rest of the school day, and all throughout the ride here, with your words and their implications repeating over and over in his head.

Jimin suddenly stood up and walked over to the window, his anger making him want to move around.

“The thing is, she’s actually this girl I hooked up with at a party last Friday,” he started to explain, not realising that he had begun pacing around, “I’d ended up taking her home that night because she didn’t really seem like she could get there on her own, so I just casually asked her about how her dad had reacted to her getting home so late. She started telling me about how her dad hadn’t been home that night because he’s a truck driver. In fact, she said that he usually wasn’t home at all throughout the week, and sometimes he didn’t even come back on the weekends that he’s supposed to.”

Jimin spun around towards Lauren, who had shifted so that she was still facing him, “can you believe that? What kind of father would leave their kid alone for weeks at a time? And does he even know what his own daughter has been doing in his absence? She uses, you know. I bet he has no clue.”

“But of course he doesn’t,” Jimin scoffed, “just one of the millions of examples of a grown man being absolutely useless and incompetent as a father.”

He turned to look outside once again, trying to focus on anything that could calm down his racing heart.

“Do you feel that way about your own father?” He heard Lauren ask from behind him.

“Obviously. He beat my mom, and then he beat me. That didn’t exactly make him father slash husband of the year. Nothing could justify his actions,” Jimin reasoned.

“Do you feel that your actions that night also can’t be justified?”

He paused, the question catching him off guard. Slowly, Jimin faced Lauren once again, “well yes, I’m not different from him. If anything I’m worse. He beat people. I murdered him.”

Lauren’s gaze bored into him in an almost unnerving way before she spoke, “‘murder.’ That’s a strong word.”

“It’s appropriate in this context.”

“From what you’ve told me, it seems like you killed your father after he had begun to hurt your girlfriend-”

“Ex,” Jimin said, his gaze not meeting hers, “ex girlfriend.”

“Ex girlfriend,” Lauren corrected, “your actions occurred in a very specific place and time, and under certain circumstances.”

“Yeah, but he still died. And I’m the one that killed him.”

“Yes, he died, and it seems, at least in part, because of your actions. Does that make you a murderer?”

“Yes,” Jimin answered straight away, not comprehending what was so hard to understand, “I took a bat to his head, and then he died. That’s murder. And that’s worse than anything he had ever done to me.”

“Really? You think it’s worse?” Lauren asked, her voice suddenly quieter. For the first time since these sessions started, Jimin thought he might have caught a little sadness in her expression. But the moment he caught it the expression disappeared, tucked back under that blanket of neutrality that he had become so used to. Distantly, he wondered if he had imagined it or not.

“On one hand, people were hurt. On the other hand, someone was killed. Obviously both situations aren’t good since people were hurt either way. But I killed him, he didn’t kill anyone.”

“It is true that the outcomes are different,” Lauren agreed, “but it’s the context that I wonder about.”

Jimin’s brows furrowed, “what do you mean?”

“Do you think what the intention was in those situations matters, regardless of the outcome?”

“No,” Jimin replied firmly, pulling back on the frustration in his tone,“in one case someone was killed. In another, no one was killed.”

Lauren paused for a moment, seemingly studying him with her characteristically neutral expression. When nothing was said for a few seconds, she clasped her fingers together before resting them over her lap professionally, “while it is true that your father died, and that your actions played a role in it, I think we might slightly disagree on the definition of the term ‘murder.’ It is apparent that his death has been a very difficult thing for you to accept, and that you are trying to make sense of that. From what you’ve told me, the sense that you appear to have made of his death is that you are a ‘murderer.’ I believe this is a good example of one of the stuck points that seem to have prevented you from recovering from this traumatic event. We’ll definitely be spending more time together on understanding your part in his death.”

Lauren then began to explain something about how important it was to be able to identify and label his emotions and thoughts, but Jimin’s thoughts were too stuck on her earlier words to pay any attention. He wondered about how intentions might or might not matter in the context of whether a death is considered a murder or not. When a person participates in an action that ends up with another person dead, he was pretty sure that classified the situation as a murder. He couldn’t really understand where the nuances existed in a situation like this.

But then again, Lauren’s suggestion hadn’t been too crazy of a thought either. If a person didn’t intend to kill the other, then would it still be considered a murder?

Had he intended to kill his father that night? Jimin wanted to say no and deny such a thing, because he really hadn’t wanted to do that. But he had taken a wooden baseball bat straight to his father’s skull, what other outcome had Jimin been expecting? Maybe intention did matter in general, but in Jimin’s case he concluded it made no difference.

“How do you feel about the death of your father?” Lauren asked randomly, catching Jimin’s straying attention. He had no clue what the context behind the question was since his thoughts had been elsewhere while she had been explaining it, which had caught him off guard.

“Um,” Jimin paused, having to think about it for a moment, “I know he did horrible things to me, like I’m aware his actions were wrong, but… a part of me felt a little saddened by his death. Maybe not because of losing him as a person, but losing him meant that I had lost the last of my family. It does make me feel sad when I think about it.”

Lauren nodded encouragingly, “and that is a completely natural reaction to have when you feel that you’ve lost something. It’s good to feel that sadness and let it run its course.”

Jimin let a breathy chuckle escape his lips, though there was no humour behind it, “feeling sad isn’t exactly something I enjoy- actually I prefer to avoid feeling anything at all. It’s just easier that way.”

Lauren crossed her leg over the other, continuing to focus on Jimin as she brought her clasped hand over her lap once again, “have you ever allowed yourself to feel sad?”

He shook his head, explaining that he’s always preferred avoiding anything and everything that had to do with intense feelings like that. Even the frustration he had shown earlier was a generally rare occurrence.

“Then if you’ve never allowed yourself to feel your emotions, how do you know that it would be easier not to feel them?”

Jimin was silent, processing the logic behind her words once again. He was starting to realise that therapy was a lot more logical than what he had initially thought.

“From what you’ve told me, avoiding your feelings hasn’t helped you very much so far. Maybe allowing yourself to feel the natural feelings associated with the traumatic event may help you recover from what happened?”

“Maybe…” He relented, knowing that her reasoning made sense to him.

But Jimin still couldn’t help but feel anxious at the thought of feeling his emotions. He didn’t even know if he’d ever truly felt them before. With a father that had been beating him for as long as he could remember, it really had just become easier to numb himself to the pain. He was scared of revisiting that pain, he realised. The pain that he’d been trying to run away from his whole life.

Lauren opened her binder to bring out a few sheets that were similar to the Impact Statement worksheet she had given him in their last session, except they clearly had a different purpose. She called them “A-B-C” Sheets, which again reminded Jimin of kindergarten, and explained how to go about completing them properly. She also explained how they were meant to help him begin to identify the things he was telling himself and his subsequent emotions before they had exchanged pleasantries and Jimin had walked out of the room.

Unlike the last session, where he had rushed through the door at light speed, Jimin took his time walking through the hallways and out of the building. This time his mind was filled with questions of murder and intention. He thought about feeling his feelings, and how long it had been since he had lost the ability to do so. He thought about you and your dad. He thought about everything.

There was just so much to think about.

So much to think about indeed.

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