Unwanted Care

Morning came quietly.

Too quietly.

You didn’t wake up immediately.

Your body felt heavier than usual, your eyes swollen from crying the night before. The pillow beside you still carried traces of your tears, but you didn’t bother wiping them away.

For a few seconds, you just lay there… staring at the ceiling.

Empty.

Still.

Then slowly—

Reality returned.

Your chest tightened.

Your fingers curled into the bedsheet.

“Grandma…” you whispered faintly.

The silence answered back.

You closed your eyes, forcing yourself to breathe properly.

You couldn’t cry again.

Not today.

You pushed yourself up slowly, your body protesting with every movement. Your head felt slightly heavy, but you ignored it.

You had no choice.

A soft knock came at the door.

You didn’t respond.

The door opened anyway.

Footsteps entered.

You didn’t need to look.

You already knew.

“You’re awake.”

His voice.

Cold.

Steady.

Unaffected.

You slowly turned your head.

And there he was.

Standing near the door like he always did—composed, controlled, distant.

Your eyes met his.

And for a second—

Silence.

Then you looked away.

“I’m not working today,” you muttered weakly.

“I didn’t ask.”

Your jaw clenched slightly.

“Then why are you here?”

Something landed softly on the chair beside you.

You frowned and looked.

Clothes.

Neatly folded.

New.

Clean.

Your brows furrowed.

“…what is this?”

“Clothes.”

You stared at them.

Still confused.

Still suspicious.

“You finally realized I can’t live in one shirt forever?” you said dryly.

He didn’t respond.

“You expect me to just wear whatever you give me?” you added, looking back at him. “What if there’s something in it?”

His eyes narrowed slightly.

“You think too much.”

“And you don’t think enough before ruining someone’s life,” you shot back.

Silence.

But this time—

It wasn’t sharp.

It lingered.

His gaze stayed on you longer than usual.

Careful.

Observing.

As if he was trying to read something deeper.

Then—

“You didn’t know.”

Your brows furrowed.

“…what?”

“About Jae.”

Your chest tightened instantly.

“I already told you,” you said firmly, sitting straighter despite your weakness. “I don’t know anything.”

He stepped closer.

His eyes searched yours.

“You didn’t know what he took.”

Your heartbeat quickened.

“I said I don’t know!” you snapped, frustration slipping through. “How many times do I have to repeat it?”

Silence.

Your breathing was uneven now.

Anger.

Pain.

Everything mixed.

“I lost everything because of him,” you continued, your voice slightly shaking. “I lost my home… my grandmother… my life.”

Your eyes burned slightly.

“And you’re still asking me like I’m part of it.”

For the first time—

He hesitated.

It was small.

Almost invisible.

But it was there.

And you saw it.

Your voice softened just a little.

“If I knew anything… do you really think I’d still be here like this?”

That question stayed in the air.

Heavy.

Real.

He didn’t answer.

Instead—

He stepped back.

“Get dressed,” he said coldly. “Someone’s coming.”

“…who?”

“You’ll see.”

And he left.

After changing—

You stepped downstairs.

The mansion felt… different.

Less suffocating.

But still unfamiliar.

And then—

You saw him.

A man leaning casually against the couch, scrolling through his phone like he owned the place.

He looked up.

And the moment his eyes met yours—

His face lit up.

“Well… you must be the reason this house finally has some drama.”

You raised a brow.

“And you must be the reason it doesn’t have peace.”

He blinked.

Then laughed.

“Oh wow. Straight to attack.”

“Who are you?” you asked.

He placed a hand on his chest dramatically.

“Park Jimin. The charming one. The favorite one. The one people actually like.”

“Unbelievable,” you muttered.

Jimin grinned.

“And you are?”

“You don’t need to know.”

“Ouch. Cold.”

“Learning from the best,” you said, glancing briefly behind.

Jungkook had entered.

Jimin noticed instantly.

“Ah, there he is. The ice king himself.”

“Stop talking,” Jungkook said flatly.

“You say that every time I talk,” Jimin replied casually. “Still hasn’t worked.”

Your lips twitched slightly.

Jungkook noticed.

And something in his expression shifted—

Just for a second.

Later—

You were in the kitchen again.

Cooking.

But this time—

Jimin followed you.

Of course he did.

“So,” he leaned against the counter, watching you. “Do you always cook this seriously?”

“I cook because I have to.”

“That sounds sad.”

“It is.”

He tilted his head slightly.

“You don’t look like someone who gives up easily.”

You paused for a second.

Then continued cutting vegetables.

“I don’t.”

“Good,” he said softly.

A small silence followed.

Then—

“You know,” Jimin added, “he doesn’t usually bring people here.”

You didn’t look at him.

“I’m not here because he wants me.”

“Maybe not,” Jimin said. “But still… this is new.”

You scoffed slightly.

“Then your friend has serious issues.”

Jimin laughed.

“That I won’t deny.”

You almost smiled again.

When the food was ready—

You placed everything on the table.

Jimin sat immediately.

“Wow. This actually looks good.”

“Don’t get used to it.”

“I already am.”

He looked at you.

“Sit.”

You hesitated.

Before you could decide—

Jungkook’s phone rang.

He glanced at it.

Then walked away.

Jimin looked back at you.

“Now you can sit without being judged.”

You rolled your eyes slightly.

But you sat.

The maid came forward quietly, serving food for both of you.

You noticed her.

The same old maid.

She gave you a soft look.

A silent reassurance.

You felt it.

And for the first time—

You didn’t feel completely alone.

Jimin took a bite.

Then paused.

“…okay wait.”

You frowned.

“What?”

“This is actually really good.”

You blinked.

“…seriously?”

“I don’t lie about food.”

You let out a small breath.

“Good.”

“You should eat too.”

“I’m not that hungry.”

“You need to eat,” he said gently.

Your hands paused.

That tone—

It reminded you of someone.

You didn’t argue.

You took a small bite.

A quiet moment passed.

Then Jimin spoke again.

“Tell me honestly… do you know anything about Jae?”

Your expression changed instantly.

“No.”

He didn’t interrupt.

Didn’t question.

You continued—

“I swear… I don’t know what he did. I don’t know what he took.”

Your voice softened.

“But because of him… I lost everything.”

Silence.

Jimin’s expression softened deeply.

“I believe you.”

You looked at him.

Surprised.

“…you do?”

He nodded.

“I’ve dealt with liars my whole life. You’re not one.”

Your eyes stung slightly.

“Then help me,” you whispered. “Make him understand.”

Jimin gave a small, reassuring smile.

“I will talk to him.”

Footsteps approached again.

Jungkook returned.

His eyes landed on the table.

On you.

Sitting with Jimin.

Eating.

Talking.

Something flickered in his gaze.

Quick.

Sharp.

Unfamiliar.

But it disappeared just as fast.

He didn’t say anything.

Didn’t react.

And Jimin didn’t notice.

But something—

shifted.

🖤

“Sometimes…” Jimin thought quietly, watching both of you,

“…the truth doesn’t need proof—just someone willing to believe it.”

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