Jimin's POV

"Okay, I can do this. I will do this." I muttered to myself. It's not hard, just a game of a few minutes, I'll be free, and won't have to put up to her anymore.

God! I'm so sick of her. She thinks she can control me and use me as her pawn? Never.

I thought.

My hand moved under my pillow, and there it is. My scalpel. Its cold metal brushed my fingers, and I was relieved that it's still there. I sighed and laid back on the plush bed, my body sinking in the silk sheets.

I lay there staring at the ceiling for a while until—

*CREAK*...*CREAK*

She's here!

I quickly squinted my eyes shut and pulled the blankets over me. I pretended to sleep, and I bet I'm a pretty good actor.

I could hear her approaching, every creak of floorboard, and the thump of her feet synched with my racing heartbeat.

I lay there for a moment until the footsteps stopped just outside the room. I held my breath. Then—

*KNOCK*

It came once, but I didn't dare make a sound. The door creaked open, and I'm sure she could hear the loud pounding of my heart in the tense silence of the empty mansion.

The footsteps echoed again and stopped again, but this time next to the bed. Next to me. I kept pretending to be asleep as I don't want my plan to go south.

Then, a soft press of lips on my forehead. My breath hitched, but I didn't move. Just completely still.

"Good night." she whispered, her warm breath ghosting over my forehead.

A soft sigh left my parted lips and I could feel her smIle against my forehead as she again planted another gentle kiss there like I'm made of fragile glass before she pulled away.

I heard the soft rustle of clothes around the silent room, and I could tell she's going about her night routine.

After a moment, I felt the mattress dip beside me. She's laying beside me, but never touching. Why? I told her so.

I shifted in my position. Just slightly so she might not suspect that I'm awake. The smell of gunpowder, her cologne— cardamom and sandalwood— and something uniquely her filled my nostrils. It was enough to drive people dizzy, but not me. Never me.

But... It did affect me— Damn it! I shouldn't be thinking of her.

Minutes passed in silence, and I could feel her breath steadying out. I creaked my left eye open, and saw her asleep. I sighed again and propped myself on my elbow.

My hand again slid under my pillow and I grabbed the scalpel in my fist.

And in one swift motion— I straddled her, her hands held under my knees while i grabbed the collar of her white T-shirt, and

pressed the scalpel on her throat.

I felt her shift under me, and tightened my hold on her.

"Don't move!" I breathed out, her eyes fluttered open.

She didn't seem scared. The Queen is never scared. Instead, she smiled.

"Your hands are shaking." she said, her voice hoarse from disuse. "amoré."

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Hey, everyone! This is Your author 'Chammy Chimmy'.

This is my first work on any fanfic. Hope you love it 😘

Author's POV

"Your hands are shaking." you said, your voice hoarse from disuse. "amoré."

Amoré. 'Love' in Italian. That's the word he hates despite the warmth it spread through his chest.

Jimin's jaws clenched tight. He hated that you noticed how his hands shake on your collar and the scalpel. He inhaled a sharp breath and blurted out.

"Shut up. Don't call me that."

Your smile didn't fade. It didn't widen either.

"Why? It suits you." you said "amoré."

His eyes flashed with something between anger and annoyance, but he didn't pull back.

"Your hands are shaking." you repeated and yanked your left-hand free from under his knee. His eyes widened, and he flinched, caught off guard.

He should have known that you aren't weak. The Queen is never weak.

With strange gentleness... almost tenderness, you brushed a few strands of hair from his face and tucked them behind his ear, your fingers brushing his skin and lingering under his eye.

Your eyes never left his, holding them. More of daring him to look away. His breath hitched slightly, but you noticed. You notice everything. And when it comes to him, you even notice if he's breathing just right or not.

Your hand dropped lower, and took his hand holding the scalpel. Not to take the scalpel from him, but to guide it on your pulse point of your throat. To steady his trembling hand.

"Here. It'll take less time for me to die." you said, your voice calm like soft drizzle of a rain.

His eyebrows knitted and stared at you with jaws still clenched.

"You think this is funny?" he said, applying just the slightest pressure on your pulse point with the scalpel. Not enough to break skin, but enough to feel your heartbeat thrumming.

"No. It's not funny." you replied, still calm.

"I'm serious. Go ahead, cut it."

Anger roared through his veins, and he pressed the scalpel even more, drawing a thin line of blood that trailed down your throat in slow motion and disappeared into your white T-shirt, staining the fabric crimson.

A slow smile curled up your lips. No teeth, just lips twitching upwards.

"That's it, my amoré. You're doing good. Keep going." you praised as if it's another Tuesday of getting your throat sliced by him. And somehow it is.

"I'll kill you right now, and then I'll be free from you for forever!" he yelled in your face, but instead of anger or irritation, you chuckled softly. While another drop of blood made its way down your throat.

Your one hand was still trapped under his knee and the other was holding his wrist to steady his hold on the scalpel.

And he was straddling you. Still.

"I trust you. You will." you replied, completely unfazed by the cut on your pulse point.

"Kill me and you'll be free. I promise you, no one will stop you. Not even my men."

His breath stopped. You never promise anything. You never trust anyone, not even if it was just to manipulate other to get your work done. You never did, not to your own self. And yet here you are.

He yanked his hand away from your hold, your hand falling to your side, scalpel dropping on the bed beside him with a soft *THUD*

He stared at her with tears brimming up in his eyes. Tears of rage. Hatred... Maybe guilt too?

"I HATE YOU!" he screamed in your face.

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Helloww! Sweethearts! Your author 'Chammy Chimmy' is back.

Hope you all liked this chapter. And also forgive me for any spelling mistake. Hehe.😸

Because English is not my first language.

Though I'll try to make it better.

ENJOY!!

See ya soon. 😘

MWAHH!

"I HATE YOU!" he screamed in your face.

Your POV

I hate you. It hurts more than I ever imagined it will. And hearing it from his lips with those ugly tears in his beautiful eyes, shatters my heart.

I reached out, and gently brushed my thumb over his cheek where the tear has rolled down.

But, he swatted my hand away. Now this hurts even more. He never let me touch him, said 'I feel dIsgusted when you touch me.' So I stopped touching him.

"Don't touch me!" he hissed through gritted teeth and climbed off me, sitting on the edge of the bed, facing away from me.

I shifted in my position, and sat up on the bed with my elbows propping me. The blood still trailed down my throat, but I couldn't care less about that.

I reached out hesitantly only to withdraw my hand. I didn't want to startle him again. Instead, I grabbed the scalpel still laying on the bed between us and put it on the night stand on his side of the bed.

I sighed heavily through my nose, and got up from the bed. I walked into the bathroom to clean the blood on my throat. I left the bathroom door slightly ajar.

I removed my t-shirt only to let out a curse under my breath. I was left in my bra, and I looked at myself in the mirror, the gunshots were bleeding out.

How can I forget to get my bandages changed? I'm stupid.

I sighed again, and first cleaned my throat, holding my breath as the antiseptic worked on the cut.

After a few minutes, I again scanned the bandages wrapped on the gunshot wounds. It was two. The two bullets I took for my Jimin the last week because son bastard ran their tongue about him, an things turned messy. My amoré. But, he didn't know. He doesn't have to know.

I grabbed a new bandage from the first-aid, and tried putting the bandage myself.

Ugh! Damnit! Why am I so clumsy?

I can handle guns, knives, daggers. Even the most seasoned enforcers. I have killed them with a snap of my wrists, but this is pure damnation. I can't handle these bandages.

Now I have no choice, but to call for him. He's a nurse and now it depends on him if he'll help me or let me do it myself. I hope he'll help me.

I slapped myself internally before calling out.

"Amoré...?"

No reply. I called out again from the bathroom.

"... Jimin-ah...?"

A beat passed.

"What?" he replied, his voice low and emotionless. I exhaled through my nose.

"Can you... Come in here for a moment?" I asked, and waited for him to either refuse or come in.

"Why?" he asked.

"Can you just come in?" I replied.

Another beat passed...then another...

Until his bare feet padded towards the bathroom. I waited patiently. I can never be impatient with him.

The footsteps stopped out of the bathroom door for a second before the door creaked open which was still slightly ajar.

He saw me and froze. He's eyes scanned me from head to toe, and I followed his gaze.

A slow smirk curled up the corner of my lips. He's staring at my curves, and I was still in my bra and sweatpants. Well, I won't blame him. I've got a pretty handsome body.

I cleared my throat to snap him back to reality. His eyes trailed up and locked with mine. I winked at him, and he flinched. His ears burned pink and I chuckled.

"W-why did you call me?" he stammered. I held up the bandages in my hand, dangling it in front of him as if he is a kid, and the bandages are a jar of Cheetos.

His brows furrowed slightly.

"What?" he asked. I turned around so that my back faced him, and I swear I heard his breath hitch.

Two gunshots. He saw it. But didn't know I took those for him.

I looked at him over my shoulder, and raise an eyebrow. Then, I asked...

"Help me?"

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Hey, Lovely Armies! Your author 'Chammy Chimmy' is back!

Hope you like this episode. I promise to post daily and entertain you.

Enjoy!!

MWUAHH!😘😘