《the festival ; pjm ✓》f o u r
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we're going to hell?! ;
"Y/n."
His tone was octaves lower, darker, and terrifying. You were in big trouble. The drenched-in-shells-and-liquid male stood up, gaze landing on your shivering body.
"I- I have to go. I've got classes today," you squeaked out, trying to escape. You suffocated under his gaze. It was like he was using his eyes to trap you in a prison cell.
The minute you turned around, your head crashed into a solid chest.
You forgot that he could do that.
Groaning inwardly, you lifted your head. "You're going nowhere," he growls, metal-liked eyes darkening. Jimin lifted his hand, using it to push a strand of hair behind your ears.
"Where,"
He whispers into your ears, tone seductive, and flirty. "Do you think you're going after making a mess?"
You swallowed down the anxiousness that threatened to force its way out of you. "You're the one who disabled my phone," you argued back, taking a step away from the harmless, yet minacious ghost.
Jimin's face scrunched up as he whined, "I don't even know what disabled means! Why does that box only have black as its colour? It should have your taste, since it belongs to you,"
He whined loudly, like a child that doesn't get to buy candy in a candy shop. Towards the end, he shoots you a flirtatious wink.
You knew what he was talking about.
Embarrassment shoots its way up to your cheeks. This man's duality was no joke. You glared at the turquoise-haired male as you walked away, letting out a sigh of relief.
You would never want to see Jimin mad. "You're not going anywhere, my spinach. We made a deal, remember?" Jimin called out from behind.
"I have classes, Jimin," you sighed, no breakfast for you today. You picked up your disabled iPhone and grabbed your bag.
"Be home by ten!" Jimin hollers as he waved at you. Did that insane ghost give you a curfew? You let out a breathy laugh, shaking your head as you locked the door.
-
You were running late.
It was almost ten.
"Jimin?" you panted, placing your hands on your thighs. The house was dark and silent. Where did he go? Wasn't he the one who had wanted you to come back at ten?
The corner of your lips dropped as you turned on the lights. Why did you even bother to come back before the curfew he had set for you?
"It's bright!" a high pitched cry emitted from your room. What was he doing in there? You trudged into your room, curiosity picking at your skin.
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As they like to say, curiosity killed the cat. But it was just a saying, and you were no cat.
You peaked into your room, and your eyes set on an extremely focused Jimin who was doing something with red clothes as needles on your bed.
"What are you doing?" you breathed out, still a little dizzy from all that running. The weight of numerous books in your bag didn't help whatsoever.
"Sewing," his answer was short and sweet. "Why?" you inquired, placing your bag onto the floor. You shrugged your shoulders, attempting to move them a little.
Maybe you should have placed your books in the lockers.
You eyed the cloths Jimin had in his hand. It looked so familiar, but you couldn't place your hand on where you've seen it before.
You sat down on the other bed, which was meant for the roommate who ditched you, and admired the ghost's side profile.
He looked godly. His eyes never left the needle, lips parting in concentration. The needle pokes through the red clothing and Jimin pulled it up, then back down to poke through the clothing again.
Where did he learn how to sew? He was so focused, he barely commented about how you were ogling his facial features and swift movements.
Shaking your head softly, you tried to focus on a different subject, "Where did you get that red cloth from?"
This time, curiosity did kill the cat.
"your closet," Jimin answered and continued to sew the red cloth. My what!? You stood up from the bed, rushing over to the wooden box.
Your fingers brushed past every hanger until it stopped at an empty one. Every hanger held a piece of clothing. And every clothing meant the world to you.
Especially that red one. "Park. Jimin." you seethed in anger, turning around to face the ghost.
That dress, was a piece of clothing that you were supposed to wear to prom. It cost you millions of dollars.
Before he could answer, your roommate - yes, the one that ditched you - pops into your room. Her eyes enlarged as she stared at Jimin.
"Y-Y/n? why is your needle floating?" she stutters, dropping the cup that used to be on her hands. Thank god it was plastic. You didn't need another set of tableware to break because of Jimin.
Jimin vanishes and the needle drops. "It's some magic string trick that I've learned," you answered without hesitation. You didn't need her to officially stop living in your house if she knew it was haunted.
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It was bad enough that she rarely came back. Having her to never come back, and you to live in this haunted house alone, sent shivers down your spine.
But how'd she not see Jimin? "O-okay," a hint of disbelief laced through her voice as she picked up the cup.
"Cheesecakes, we need to go," Jimin whispers into your ears, wrapping his arms around your waist and placing his chin on your shoulder. You flinched a little, you didn't expect Jimin to come back when your roommate was in the room.
Your roommate just had to arrive at this time. If she weren't here, you'd probably whack the ghost. You plastered a small smile on your face while staring at your roommate.
Like a kettle, you could feel heat, anger, boiling in you. Subtly, your fingers made its way onto Jimin's thighs. Clenching your teeth, you pinched the meat on his thighs.
"Get off," you hissed softly, before walking out of the room. The ghost squawks, releasing you from his hold.
Jimin followed you like a puppy, trailing behind you as you walked into the kitchen. Making sure your roommate was out of earshot, you grabbed a rolling pin and smacked it on Jimin's head.
"Ow! Butter cake, that hurt," the whiny ghost rubbed the bump on his head.
"That was my prom dress!" you growled, raising the rolling pin. Jimin cowers in fear, placing his hands over his head.
"Y/n? who are you talking to?" your roommate walks out of the room and into the kitchen, raising her eyebrows at the sight. Confusion danced in her orbs.
You coughed, placing the rolling pin on the table. You must've looked really weird. "N-no one, are you going out?" you dragged your eyes from Jimin's cowering figure to the lady by the door.
She nods, before taking off. Jimin sighed, standing up slowly. "Chocolate cake, can we put this aside? I only used it to sow a disguise for you," Jimin stuck out his bottom lip, staring at you with puppy eyes.
"What disguise?" you frowned, narrowing your eyes at the translucent figure. "We have to save my friends, lovely chiffon cake," Jimin replies, walking back to your room.
"Why would we need a disguise for that?" You asked, a mix of uncertainty and intuition wrapped around the organ in your heart.
"Baby," Jimin sighs, rubbing his temple. "You ask too-" you cut the ghost off, "Do not call me that," you snarled at the spirit.
The same irritating smirk crept up his face. "But baby, we have to go down to hell to save my friends," he grinned, smugness laced through his voice.
Hell?!
"Wait, you never said hell was part of the deal," your heart squeezed. You couldn't breathe. No. You were not going to hell. "I'm not doing it," you said.
"We made a deal!" Jimin argues, brows creasing. "When you said we had to save your friends, you didn't mention the fact the I, a mortal, had to go down the hell." you shouted.
You should've never made a deal with spirits.
"We're going to do it anyway, if you refuse, your soul belongs to me. And if I go to hell, so would you," Jimin rolled his eyes, walking towards the front door.
Vulnerability slapped you in the face
You held back the tears that threatened to fall. You couldn't go down to hell. What would you see there? What was going to happen if they caught a mortal there?
You were afraid.
"Cotton candy, you alright?" Jimin turns around, noticing that you hadn't moved from your spot. The sound of Jimin's feet dragging across the floor got louder as he moved closer.
"Hey," he whispered, placing his hands on your shoulder, turning you around. He lifted your chin, but you refused to look at him in the eyes.
"Look at me, candy cane." concern hid behind his voice. Hesitantly, you lifted your gaze. There was a streak of blue in his hooded orbs.
What did that blue streak in his eyes mean?
"I promise, I'll protect you. No one is going to harm you, skittles. No one can, except for me," the corners of his lips tugged upwards, forming a sneaky smile.
You reciprocated with a weak smile. Jimin pressed his lips onto your forehead. "If I break this deal, I'll vanish." he whispered, "forever."
You looked deeper into his orbs, hoping to find a glint of mischievousness or something that would give away the fact that he might be joking.
There was nothing.
"Let's go, shall we?" Jimin wraps his fingers around your wrist, pulling you along with him.
"My milky way,"
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