It is the story of one of the most perilous but secret Mafia King "Suga" and a deadly government agent, he is cruel but for those who mess with him, he has a very dangerous aura, Hearing his voice, people's souls tremble, People are afraid to even m...
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Left alone, Jimin released a shaky sigh, his body still tingling with the remnants of humiliation. The weight of embarrassment pressed down on his chest, threatening to consume him. He could still feel the ghost of Yoongi’s touch on his skin, the warmth of those strong arms that had lifted him so effortlessly.
Oh my god, what have I done?
Jimin groaned, burying his face in his hands, his ears burning with the memory of his own clumsiness. He could still see Yoongi’s gaze, the way it had flickered with amusement before concern took over.
He saw me naked…
The thought alone made his stomach twist.
How am I supposed to face him now?
His heart pounded relentlessly, the echoes of his own mortification replaying like a broken record. The more he thought about it, the more he felt like curling into a ball and ceasing to exist.
But no matter how much he wished for the earth to swallow him whole, reality was cruel.
He had to face Yoongi.
His husband.
Oh my fucking god, give me some courage and strength.
Jimin’s hands fisted at his sides, his nails digging into his palms in an effort to ground himself. He couldn’t hide forever. He wasn’t a kid.
With a deep inhale, he forced himself to move, his legs carrying him toward the small suitcase where his clothes were packed. His fingers trembled as he reached for a simple oversized sweater and a pair of jeans, slipping them on hurriedly as if dressing faster would somehow erase the memory of his earlier catastrophe.
The feeling of fabric against his skin provided the smallest semblance of comfort, yet the lingering warmth of his flushed skin refused to fade.
Once dressed, Jimin stood before the mirror, staring at his reflection.
His cheeks were still stained pink, his lips pressed into a thin line. His dark eyes flickered with uncertainty, his posture tense.
I can’t let this ruin everything.
With a final exhale, Jimin made his decision.
Face it.
Pushing open the door ever so slightly, he peeked out cautiously. The hallway was quiet, save for the distant murmur of voices.
Yoongi was nowhere in sight.
Jimin released a breath of relief before stepping out, his feet carrying him towards the café area where his friends were.
The air outside the room felt lighter, but his nerves still tingled with anticipation. Every step he took felt like walking towards his doom, but he held his head high, determined to push through his mortification.
