♡ Part - 36 ♡

It's a long ass chapter, hope you will enjoy this....💜💜

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"

P-please stop," Jimin's voice trembled, his body shaking as he struggled against the strong grip pinning his wrists above his head. His chest heaved, panic flooding his veins.

Kai smirked, his eyes dark with twisted amusement. "Why, baby?" he taunted, his breath hot against Jimin’s skin.

A shudder ran through Jimin as Kai’s fingers trailed down his thigh. Disgust curled in his stomach, his breath hitching in fear.

"Don’t touch me," Jimin whimpered, twisting away, but Kai only chuckled, pressing closer.

"You act so innocent," Kai mused, his grip tightening. "But I know you—"

The sudden impact of a force ripping Kai away from him sent Jimin gasping.

The weight pinning him down was gone.

He blinked, dazed, his breath ragged. And then—

A sharp gasp left his lips.

There, standing in front of him, was Yoongi.

Jimin's heart stuttered at the sheer fury radiating from his husband. Yoongi’s jaw was clenched, his dark eyes locked onto Kai, burning with raw, violent rage.

Yoongi moved without hesitation, gripping Kai’s shoulder and slamming him against the wall. The force sent a loud thud through the room.

"How dare you," Yoongi’s voice was low, lethal.

Kai groaned, hands pushing at Yoongi’s chest, but it was useless. Yoongi's fingers wrapped around his throat, squeezing, his nails digging into the skin.

"What the fuck—le-leave me," Kai choked, his voice strangled. He clawed at Yoongi’s wrist, his legs struggling beneath him.

Yoongi’s grip only tightened.

"You touched what’s mine," Yoongi hissed, his voice ice-cold. "Only I get to touch him."

Jimin flinched at the possessiveness laced in Yoongi’s tone, but right now, he couldn’t bring himself to care. His body was still trembling, still processing what had almost happened.

With a swift motion, Yoongi shoved Kai to the floor. Before Kai could react, Yoongi kicked him hard in the gut. A strangled groan escaped from Kai’s lips as he curled in on himself, coughing violently.

Yoongi crouched down, seizing Kai by the collar and yanking him up so their faces were inches apart.

"Y-you’re—" Kai stuttered, eyes wide in horror. "Suga." His voice barely made it out. "T-the mafia—"

"Shut. The fuck. Up."

Kai whimpered. His entire body trembled under Yoongi’s grip.

Yoongi pulled out his gun.

The room fell into a suffocating silence.

Jimin’s breath caught in his throat as he watched the cold barrel press firmly against Kai’s forehead.

"Do you know what you just did?" Yoongi’s voice was eerily calm, deadly. "You dug your own grave."

"I—I didn’t mean—" Kai stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. "Please, I—I swear I won’t touch him again, I—"

Yoongi scoffed. "Oh, I know you won’t."

His finger tightened on the trigger.

"No—please—"

"Yoongi—" Jimin’s voice was barely above a whisper. His small, trembling form was still curled on the bed, his wide eyes locked onto his husband.

Yoongi flicked his gaze to Jimin for a split second—and that was all it took.

His resolve hardened.

The air grew unbearably heavy, the moment stretching into eternity.

And then—

A gunshot.

The deafening bang shattered the suffocating silence.

A hole pierced right through the center of Kai’s forehead, his eyes rolling back as his body crumpled to the floor like a lifeless ragdoll.

Jimin gasped, his entire body tensing at the sound. His breath hitched as he flinched, the weight of what had just happened sinking in.

Yoongi didn't lower the gun right away. He simply stared down at the corpse, chest rising and falling in steady, controlled breaths. The anger still lingered in his veins, but it was now accompanied by something else.

Relief.

His eyes finally flickered to Jimin.

His husband was still trembling, his delicate fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, his lips parted in silent shock.

Yoongi tucked the gun back into his waistband and strode forward without hesitation.

Yoongi’s eyes flickered toward Jimin, who sat frozen on the bed, his body trembling. His usually bright eyes were blown wide with shock, his lips parted as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words.

The sight struck Yoongi like a blade to the chest.

"Jimin."

His voice, once laced with fury, softened into something almost tender as he strode toward the bed. The rage that had burned so fiercely just moments ago was now replaced by deep, aching concern.

Kneeling in front of Jimin, Yoongi cupped his face gently, his thumbs grazing over the wet trails of silent tears.

"Jimin baby, are you fine?" His voice was barely above a whisper, but the worry in it was deafening. "Did anything happen to you? Did you get hurt?"

Jimin didn’t answer. He just stared at him, his entire body rigid, his breath coming in uneven, shallow gasps.

The fear in Jimin’s eyes made Yoongi’s stomach twist painfully. He hated seeing him like this.

With a soft sigh, Yoongi pulled Jimin into his arms, his hold firm yet careful, as if cradling something fragile.

Jimin tensed at first, but then, slowly, he melted into Yoongi’s embrace. His fingers clutched weakly at Yoongi’s jacket, his body still trembling.

"Shh, baby," Yoongi murmured against his hair. "I’m here. You’re safe now."

The weight of everything crashed down on Jimin all at once—the fear, the helplessness, the overwhelming relief of being in Yoongi’s arms. His body, already exhausted from the emotional turmoil, could no longer keep up.

His breath hitched, his vision blurred, and before he could fight it, the world around him faded into darkness.

Yoongi stiffened slightly as Jimin’s body suddenly went limp in his arms.

"Jimin?" He pulled back slightly, only to see Jimin’s eyelids flutter shut, his head falling against Yoongi’s shoulder.

A sharp pang of panic flared in Yoongi’s chest. But when he felt the steady, soft rise and fall of Jimin’s breath against his neck, he exhaled in relief.

His baby had simply fainted.

With a sigh, Yoongi tightened his arms around Jimin, pressing a lingering kiss to the side of his head.

"I got you, love," he murmured. "You’re safe. And I’m never letting anyone hurt you again."

With that, he scooped Jimin up effortlessly, carrying him out of the wretched room, determined to never let him feel this kind of fear again.

As Yoongi stepped into the hotel lobby, Jimin cradled protectively in his arms, Taehyung and Jungkook immediately rushed over. Their eyes widened in alarm as they took in the sight of Jimin—unconscious, his face pale, his body limp.

"What happened to Chim, hyung?" Taehyung’s voice was thick with worry as he searched Yoongi’s face for answers.

"He's fine now," Yoongi said, his voice firm, yet the undercurrent of emotion in his tone was unmistakable. "We’re going back to the hotel."

Neither Taehyung nor Jungkook questioned him further. They simply nodded and followed closely as Yoongi led them toward the car, their concern evident in the way they kept glancing at Jimin.

---

When they reached the hotel, Yoongi carefully laid Jimin on the bed, pulling the quilt over him with a tenderness that only he could offer. His fingers lingered against Jimin’s cheek for a brief moment before he turned to face the other two.

Taehyung and Jungkook stood by the bedside, their eyes flickering between Jimin’s sleeping form and Yoongi, silently demanding an explanation.

"Hyung, what happened to him?" Taehyung asked, his voice soft but urgent.

Yoongi’s jaw clenched for a moment before he finally met their gazes. "He drank too much," he lied, his voice calm but unyielding. "He passed out, so I brought him back. Don’t worry—he’s fine now. I’ll take care of him."

Jungkook frowned slightly, sensing something deeper beneath Yoongi’s words, but he chose not to push. Instead, he simply nodded.

"You guys must be tired, go take some rest" Yoongi continued, his tone shifting slightly, laced with quiet authority.

With one last glance at Jimin, Taehyung and Jungkook left the room, the air still thick with their unspoken concerns.

Once alone, Yoongi turned back to Jimin, his expression softening. He sat beside him, brushing a few damp strands of hair away from his forehead.

"I won’t let anything happen to you again, baby."

Yoongi stood on the balcony, the glow of the city lights flickering below as he lit a cigarette. His phone pressed to his ear, waiting for the call to connect.

"Joseph," he spoke the moment the line picked up, his voice calm yet authoritative.

"Boss," Joseph responded immediately. "Everything is handled. What are your final orders?"

Yoongi took a slow drag, exhaling smoke into the cold night air. "Make it look like an accident. I want no suspicions, no loose ends. No one should know what really happened."

Joseph hesitated for a second before replying. "Understood, boss. His body will be found after a street fight gone wrong. He had enough enemies—it won’t be questioned. The police already have a long list of cases against him: sexual assault, attempted rape, blackmail. No one will dig deeper."

Yoongi smirked slightly, flicking the ashes off his cigarette. "Good. Let them believe he got caught in a fight with the wrong people. If anyone asks, he was just another scumbag who finally got what he deserved."

Joseph’s voice was firm. "We’ve taken care of any loose ends. No witnesses, no one to talk. And Hyun-jun?"

Yoongi’s expression darkened at the mention of his old enemy. "Keep an eye on him. If he makes a move, I want to know before he even breathes wrong."

"Got it, boss. Everything is under control."

Yoongi ended the call, slipping his phone back into his pocket. His gaze drifted toward the bedroom door, where Jimin lay asleep, unaware of the world Yoongi was keeping him safe from.

Jimin didn’t know how much blood stained Yoongi’s hands. And maybe, for now, it was better that way.

The stillness of the night was suddenly shattered.

"No, please leave me!"

Jimin’s panicked cry rang through the room as his body jerked upright. He was drenched in sweat, his breath ragged, his wide eyes darting around in fear. His body trembled violently, and his chest heaved as he fought to ground himself in reality.

Yoongi’s eyes widened in alarm. "Jimin?" He rushed over to him, extending a hand to comfort him.

But Jimin flinched away.

"No, please don’t touch me," he choked out, his voice raw with fear. "Please, don’t do anything to me."

Yoongi’s heart clenched painfully.

"Baby," he murmured, his voice infinitely gentle. "I’m not doing anything. It’s just me, Yoongi. Please, don’t be scared of me."

He carefully sat beside Jimin, keeping some distance to not startle him further. But Jimin only curled into himself, silent sobs shaking his small frame.

Yoongi’s throat tightened. He had never seen Jimin like this—so broken, so afraid, so…lost.

Between choked cries, Jimin’s voice wavered. "No, please leave me… All people are bad. I don’t want to live anymore. I don’t want anyone. I just… I just want to die."

The words shattered Yoongi.

His breath caught in his throat as he stared at Jimin, horror flashing across his face.

"Don’t say that," Yoongi whispered, his voice trembling. Without thinking, he reached out and cupped Jimin’s tear-streaked face, his touch soft but desperate. "Please, baby. Don’t say that."

Jimin’s eyes, still brimming with fear and despair, met his.

"I promise you," Yoongi continued, his voice unwavering despite the ache in his chest, "from now on, no one will ever hurt you again. I swear on my life, Jimin. You are safe with me. Please, don’t think like that. I can’t—" His breath hitched. "I can’t imagine my life without you."

His thumbs gently wiped away the tears that refused to stop falling.

Jimin hiccupped, his sobs slowing just a little at Yoongi’s words. The desperation in Yoongi’s voice, the sincerity in his touch—it was something Jimin had never known before.

But just as Jimin began to calm, Yoongi’s gaze landed on the bruises marring his soft skin—the hickeys, the reminders of unwanted touches.

A fresh wave of fury surged through him.

Jimin noticed them too. His body stiffened, and the look of revulsion that crossed his face made Yoongi’s heart sink.

Without a word, Yoongi scooped Jimin into his arms and carried him toward the bathroom. Jimin didn’t resist.

Inside, Yoongi set him down gently on the sink. The room was silent, the air heavy with unspoken emotions.

Jimin sat motionless, his head bowed, his arms hugging himself.

Yoongi turned on the faucet, letting the warm water fill the tub. Then, with quiet care, he began undressing Jimin, peeling away the fabric that felt tainted.

Jimin still didn’t speak. He simply let Yoongi move him as he pleased, the silence between them louder than any words.

You’re Mine, and I’ll Protect You

The warm water lapped gently against Jimin’s skin as Yoongi knelt beside the bathtub, sleeves rolled up, hands lathered with soap. His movements were slow, deliberate—tender in a way that made Jimin’s chest tighten with unspoken emotions.

Yoongi’s fingers glided over Jimin’s shoulders, tracing over each bruise with an almost reverent touch, as if his hands could erase the pain they carried. His knuckles ghosted over Jimin’s collarbones, dipping lower, where the unwanted marks marred his otherwise flawless skin. A deep frown tugged at Yoongi’s lips. His jaw clenched as anger simmered beneath his calm exterior. But he didn't let it show. Not now.

Right now, Jimin needed him to be gentle.

Jimin sat still, his head lowered, his hands resting limply in his lap. He didn’t flinch under Yoongi’s touch, nor did he resist. Instead, he let himself be guided, surrendering to the slow, rhythmic strokes of Yoongi’s hands against his skin. The heat from the water seeped into his muscles, loosening the tension he hadn’t even realized he was holding.

When Yoongi cupped his jaw, tilting his face slightly upward, Jimin finally opened his eyes. They met Yoongi’s gaze—dark, intense, filled with something unreadable.

A sharp pang struck Yoongi’s heart at the sight of Jimin’s red-rimmed eyes, the lingering fear still swimming in their depths.

"You’re safe," Yoongi whispered, voice hushed as if afraid to break the fragile moment between them. "I won’t let anyone hurt you again."

Jimin swallowed, his throat dry. He wanted to believe those words. He so badly wanted to believe them.

Yoongi’s fingers trailed down his chest, pausing when he reached the darkest of the bruises. His hand lingered, his thumb brushing over it carefully, as if contemplating something. And then—without warning—Yoongi leaned forward.

His lips pressed against the mark, warm and firm, lingering just a second too long. Jimin sucked in a sharp breath, his fingers curling slightly against Yoongi’s biceps.

The touch was nothing like what had been done to him before. It wasn’t possessive. It wasn’t cruel.

It was tender. Loving.

Yoongi didn’t stop there. He kissed another bruise, then another, his lips soft against each imperfection that had been left on Jimin’s body. Each kiss was a silent vow—this skin belongs to you, and no one else.

When his lips parted, and his teeth sank lightly into one of the marks, Jimin gasped. His grip on Yoongi’s shoulders tightened, his body instinctively leaning into the touch.

Yoongi didn’t pull away immediately. He lingered, his breath warm against Jimin’s damp skin before pressing one last lingering kiss over the fresh bite.

A shiver ran through Jimin’s spine, but it wasn’t from fear.

Yoongi was reclaiming him. Not with force, not with words—but with devotion, with every brush of his lips, every stroke of his hands.

When Yoongi finally pulled away, his eyes locked onto Jimin’s, searching for any sign of discomfort. But all he found was something raw—something vulnerable.

Jimin didn’t look away this time.

He let Yoongi see him.

By the time the bath was over, Yoongi wrapped Jimin in a fresh towel, his arms firm as he lifted him effortlessly from the water. Jimin rested his forehead against Yoongi’s shoulder, feeling exhaustion seep into his bones as Yoongi carried him back to the bedroom.

With gentle hands, Yoongi dressed him in soft, clean clothes, his touch lingering even as he pulled the fabric over Jimin’s skin. When he finally guided Jimin onto the bed, he tucked the blanket around him, ensuring he was warm, protected.

Jimin blinked sleepily up at him as Yoongi settled beside him, fingers carding through his damp hair in slow, soothing strokes.

"Now, rest well," Yoongi murmured, voice low, intimate.

Jimin nodded weakly, his body sinking deeper into the mattress. The warmth of the room, the scent of Yoongi lingering on him, the steady presence beside him—it was enough to lull him into much-needed rest.

As his eyes fluttered shut, Yoongi watched him, memorizing every delicate feature, every exhausted sigh.

And just before Jimin fully drifted off, Yoongi leaned down, pressing the softest kiss to his forehead.

"You’re mine, Jimin. And I’ll protect you, no matter what."

As the night stretched on, Yoongi didn’t move from Jimin’s side. He stayed there, unwavering, his presence a silent promise—one he would never break.

☆

Jimin’s eyes fluttered open, his mind still hazy with remnants of sleep. The unfamiliar ceiling above him made him pause, confusion flickering across his features. It took a moment before the events of the previous night came rushing back. The fear, the pain, the way Yoongi had held him so gently, whispering reassurances into his ear.

His fingers clutched the soft blanket draped over him. He was warm, safe. A stark contrast to the icy dread that had gripped him just hours ago.

Jimin turned his head slightly, expecting to see Yoongi beside him. But the space was empty.

A strange pang of disappointment settled in his chest.

Sitting up slowly, he let his gaze sweep across the room. His movements were careful, almost hesitant, as if afraid to disturb the quiet morning. The golden light of dawn filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow over everything.

And then, he saw him.

Yoongi was curled up on the couch, his body slumped in an awkward position that couldn’t possibly be comfortable. One arm dangled over the edge, his breathing slow and even. The gentle rise and fall of his chest, the way his features looked so relaxed in sleep—it stirred something deep within Jimin.

For a moment, he just watched.

Yoongi looked… different like this. Not the cold, powerful man the world feared. Not the unreadable, distant husband Jimin had struggled to understand. Here, in the quiet of the morning, he was simply Yoongi.

His Husband.

Jimin swallowed hard, emotions swelling in his chest as memories from last night played in his mind. The warmth of Yoongi’s hands as they washed away the filth, the way his lips had pressed against bruises, turning something ugly into something theirs.

The way he had whispered, “You’re mine, and I’ll protect you, no matter what.”

Jimin’s fingers curled into the blanket.

Something unfamiliar stirred inside him, something he couldn’t quite name. Gratitude? Admiration? A deep, overwhelming ache for this man who had given him safety when he’d felt the most broken?

His feet moved on their own.

Before he realized it, he was standing in front of the couch, staring down at Yoongi’s sleeping form.

The usually sharp lines of his husband’s face were softer in sleep. His lips, which so often carried sharp words, were slightly parted, his brow relaxed. Jimin’s gaze lingered on the dark lashes resting against pale skin, the gentle rise and fall of his chest.

His fingers twitched with the sudden urge to touch.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he just stood there, lost in his thoughts.

Why does looking at him make my chest feel so tight?

He didn’t know how long he stayed there, just watching.

When he finally snapped out of it, his face warmed with embarrassment. Was I staring too much?

Clearing his throat softly, he took a step back, as if putting distance between them would calm the racing of his heart. He exhaled shakily and turned away, deciding he needed some time to compose himself.

The bathroom became his refuge.

The warm water cascaded over his skin, washing away the remnants of the past. The scent of soap filled the air, grounding him in the present.

His hands traced over the spots where Yoongi’s lips had touched the night before. Where the bruises had once felt shameful, now they carried a different weight.

Jimin closed his eyes, inhaling deeply.

When he stepped out of the bathroom, dressed in fresh clothes, he felt lighter. Not completely healed, not yet—but steadier.

Moving quietly around the room, he began packing their belongings. His movements were unhurried, as if giving himself time to process everything.

When he was done, he paused at the threshold of the room, his gaze drifting back to the couch.

Yoongi was still there, still sleeping.

Jimin’s heart clenched.

Something between them had shifted last night. Something unspoken but real.

And for the first time in a long while, Jimin wasn’t afraid of it.

With slow, quiet steps, he walked toward his husband once more.

A New Morning

Jimin hesitated for a moment, standing near the couch where Yoongi was still curled up in sleep. His husband looked peaceful, his features softened in a way Jimin rarely got to see. The steady rhythm of his breathing filled the quiet room, his chest rising and falling beneath the loose fabric of his shirt.

Jimin bit his lip. He almost didn’t want to wake him.

But they were running late.

Gathering his courage, he reached out and lightly touched Yoongi’s shoulder, his fingers brushing against the warmth of his skin.

"Hyung," Jimin called softly. "Wake up. We have to go; we're running late."

Yoongi stirred, a small groan escaping his lips as he shifted on the couch. His brows furrowed, and for a second, he looked reluctant to leave the comfort of sleep. But Jimin’s voice had a pull, one Yoongi could never ignore.

Slowly, his eyes fluttered open, dark irises still clouded with sleep. He blinked a few times, adjusting to the morning light, his gaze settling on Jimin.

Jimin, standing there in the soft glow of the room, looking at him with gentle patience.

Yoongi exhaled, running a hand through his messy hair as he pushed himself up into a sitting position. His body felt stiff from sleeping on the couch, but he ignored the discomfort. Instead, his focus shifted entirely to Jimin.

His gaze swept over him, taking in his fresh clothes, the damp strands of his hair—he had already showered, already taken care of their things.

More than anything, Yoongi searched his expression.

There was no trace of the overwhelming fear from last night. No trembling, no desperate pleas. Jimin still looked tired, maybe even a little wary, but he was standing strong.

A wave of relief washed over Yoongi.

"Oh baby," he murmured, his voice still thick with sleep. He stood up, stepping closer. "How are you feeling now? When did you wake up?"

Jimin met his gaze, his own eyes softer than before. There was no hesitation in his response, no forced smile. Just quiet honesty.

"I'm fine," he said, his voice gentle but firm.

Yoongi studied him for a long moment, as if making sure Jimin truly meant those words.

And maybe Jimin wasn’t completely fine yet. Maybe there were still pieces of last night lingering in the back of his mind.

But there was something different in his posture, in his expression. A kind of quiet resilience that made Yoongi’s chest ache with something indescribable.

Jimin cleared his throat, breaking the silence.

"You should go take a bath," he said, nodding toward the bathroom. His tone was casual, but there was an underlying warmth in it. A silent reassurance that he had taken care of things, that he was okay now.

Yoongi hesitated, his fingers twitching as if he wanted to reach out, to cup Jimin’s face and trace the emotions in his eyes. But he didn’t push. Instead, he nodded, trusting Jimin’s words.

"Alright," he murmured.

As he turned to leave, his steps slow, he felt Jimin’s gaze on him. Watching.

And Yoongi knew—last night hadn’t broken them.

If anything, it had brought them closer.

---

Switzerland was breathtaking—a land of snow-capped mountains, crystal-clear lakes, and enchanting towns that felt like something out of a dream. For five days, Yoongi, Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook explored the country, experiencing both its beauty and the unspoken emotions lingering between them.

But for Jimin, the trip wasn’t just about the places they visited—it was about the man beside him.

Yoongi.

The same man who had kidnapped him, hurt him, and left scars on his heart. But here, in this foreign country, Yoongi was different. His touches were softer, his voice gentler, and the way he looked at Jimin made something stir inside his chest—something Jimin didn’t want to name.

Day 1: Zurich – The Beginning of a Strange Warmth

Their journey began in Zurich, a city where modernity met tradition. The four of them strolled through Bahnhofstrasse, the famous shopping street, with Jungkook and Taehyung excitedly pointing out luxury brands.

Jimin, however, was quieter. His eyes wandered, taking in the elegant streets, the vibrant energy of the city.

"You like it here?" Yoongi's voice was low, close to his ear.

Jimin turned, startled. He hadn’t even realized Yoongi was walking so close beside him.

"I—uh, yes. It’s beautiful," he admitted hesitantly.

Yoongi hummed, slipping his hands into his coat pockets. "If you want anything, just tell me."

Jimin frowned. "I don’t need anything."

Yoongi didn’t argue, but his eyes lingered on Jimin’s face for a moment longer before they moved on.

Later that evening, they took a boat cruise on Lake Zurich. Jimin stood by the railing, watching the sunset paint the water in golden hues. The air was crisp, cool, but before he could shiver, something warm draped over his shoulders.

Yoongi’s coat.

Jimin’s breath hitched as he turned to look at him.

"You’ll catch a cold," Yoongi muttered, looking away as if it wasn’t a big deal.

Jimin stared at him, confused. This wasn’t the same man who once had him locked away, who had threatened him with cold eyes. This Yoongi… cared.

Or at least, he pretended to.

Day 2: Lucerne – The Weight of Gentle Hands

Lucerne welcomed them with its fairytale-like scenery. They visited the famous Chapel Bridge, its wooden structure standing proudly over the Reuss River. Taehyung and Jungkook ran ahead, laughing, taking pictures of everything.

Jimin trailed behind, lost in thought.

"Stay close," Yoongi murmured from beside him.

Jimin rolled his eyes. "I'm not a child."

Yoongi arched a brow. "Then stop wandering like one."

Jimin huffed but didn’t argue.

They stopped at the Lion Monument, a tribute to Swiss soldiers. Jimin gazed at the stone lion, something heavy settling in his chest.

"It looks… sad," he mumbled.

Yoongi’s voice was softer than usual. "Because it fought, but still lost."

Jimin turned to look at him, surprised. Yoongi’s gaze was distant, lost in the past. Jimin wanted to ask what he was thinking, but before he could, Yoongi took his hand.

"Let’s go," he said, his grip firm but not forceful. Warm, steady.

Jimin didn’t pull away.

That night, as they walked along the lake, Jimin almost felt safe. Almost.

Day 3: Interlaken – Heartbeats and Hesitations

Adventure awaited in Interlaken. Jungkook and Taehyung dragged them to try paragliding, their excitement contagious.

"I’m not doing that," Jimin declared.

Yoongi smirked. "Scared, baby?"

Jimin glared. "Don’t call me that."

Yoongi only chuckled, but when Jungkook and Taehyung took off first, he turned to Jimin.

"I won’t force you," he said. "But I’ll be with you the whole time."

Jimin hesitated.

Why did that make him feel… safe?

Against his better judgment, he agreed.

Minutes later, strapped into the gear, wind rushing past them as they soared over the stunning Swiss landscape, Jimin felt a mix of fear and exhilaration.

And behind him, Yoongi’s steady presence.

"You’re doing great," Yoongi murmured, close enough that Jimin could feel the warmth of his breath. "Just trust me."

Jimin hated how easy those words were to believe.

When they landed, Taehyung and Jungkook cheered.

Jimin, still breathless, looked up at Yoongi.

"You really wouldn’t have forced me?" he asked.

Yoongi frowned. "Of course not. I’m not a monster, Jimin."

Jimin wasn’t so sure about that. But for the first time, doubt crept into his conviction.

Day 4: Zermatt – The Weight of a Name

The Matterhorn stood tall, majestic against the sky. They took the Gornergrat Railway, climbing higher and higher, the world turning into a winter wonderland around them.

Jimin sat beside Yoongi, warmth radiating between them even in the cold.

"You’ve been quiet," Yoongi observed.

Jimin looked at him. "Just thinking."

"About what?"

Jimin hesitated, then shook his head. "Nothing important."

Yoongi studied him but didn’t push.

Later, when they built snowmen outside their lodge, Jungkook and Taehyung started throwing snowballs. Jimin laughed, the sound carefree.

Then—

A snowball hit him square in the face.

Silence.

Jimin blinked, cold seeping into his skin. Slowly, he turned to glare at the culprit.

Jungkook.

"Oh no," Jungkook whispered.

Jimin lunged.

Laughter filled the air as they chased each other, snow flying everywhere.

And when Yoongi pulled Jimin aside, dusting snow from his hair, Jimin felt his heartbeat stutter.

"You should be more careful," Yoongi muttered.

Jimin swallowed. "I… yeah."

Yoongi’s fingers lingered.

Jimin didn’t move.

Day 5: Geneva – A Name He Almost Called

Their last day was spent in Geneva, a city of diplomacy and history. They walked along the shores of Lake Geneva, watched the Jet d’Eau fountain, and admired the beauty of the old town.

Jimin felt strange.

The trip was ending, but something else had begun.

That night, as they stood on the hotel balcony, watching the city lights, Jimin turned to Yoongi.

"Why have you been acting like this?" he asked suddenly.

Yoongi raised a brow. "Like what?"

"Like you care."

Yoongi sighed. "Because I do."

Jimin's chest tightened. "But… you’re still…"

"A mafia leader?" Yoongi finished.

Jimin nodded.

Yoongi leaned in, his voice a whisper against Jimin’s ear. "I may be a lot of things, baby. But when it comes to you… I’m just a man."

Jimin’s breath hitched.

He wanted to deny it. Wanted to say Yoongi was lying.

But the way his heart raced said otherwise.

As they left Switzerland, Jimin still didn’t know what he felt.

But he knew one thing—

Yoongi was no longer just his captor.

---

Departure from Switzerland to Seoul

The morning of their departure arrived with a soft drizzle, the gray sky casting a melancholic glow over the city. Jimin stood by the hotel window, watching raindrops race down the glass. The once lively streets of Geneva were now quiet in the early hours, matching the unease settling in his chest.

They were leaving.

For the past five days, Jimin had lived in a strange limbo—lost between resentment and something else, something unsettling that he wasn’t ready to name. Yoongi had been different here. Gentle. Attentive. It didn’t make sense. He was still the man who had kidnapped Jimin, who had hurt him. But then, why did his touch feel so warm? Why did his words linger in Jimin’s mind longer than they should?

A soft knock on the door pulled him from his thoughts.

"Baby, are you ready?"

Jimin turned to see Yoongi leaning against the doorframe, his black travel coat draped over his arm. The endearment still made his stomach twist—whether in irritation or something else, he wasn’t sure.

"Yeah," Jimin mumbled, pulling his suitcase handle up.

Yoongi stepped forward, taking the suitcase from him before Jimin could protest.

"I can carry it," Jimin said, frowning.

"I know," Yoongi replied simply. "But you don’t have to."

Jimin bit his lip but let him. It was easier than arguing.

When they stepped into the hotel lobby, Taehyung and Jungkook were already waiting, engaged in a quiet conversation. Jungkook grinned when he saw them.

"Finally. I thought you two were going to stay in Switzerland forever."

Jimin rolled his eyes, ignoring the way Taehyung smirked knowingly.

The car ride to the airport was quiet, the weight of their departure settling over them. Jimin stared out the window, watching the city blur past. His chest felt heavy, but he couldn’t explain why.

Maybe it was because he was leaving behind something unfamiliar.

Something safe.

The airport was bustling with travelers, announcements echoing through the terminals. Their private jet was already prepared, ensuring they wouldn’t have to wait.

As they walked through the VIP section, Yoongi’s hand hovered near Jimin’s lower back, not quite touching but close enough that Jimin felt the warmth of it. It was ridiculous how aware he was of him—of his presence, of the way he moved, of how he always seemed to be watching Jimin, as if making sure he was okay.

Why did he care?

Jimin told himself it was all an act.

It had to be.

Seated inside the jet, he buckled his seatbelt, glancing at the rain-speckled window. The thought of returning to Seoul, to reality, sent an uncomfortable knot twisting in his stomach.

Yoongi sat beside him, his presence as steady as ever.

"Nervous?" Yoongi asked, his voice low.

Jimin scoffed. "Why would I be?"

Yoongi studied him for a moment before leaning in slightly. "Because you liked it here."

Jimin’s breath hitched. He looked away. "It was… nice," he admitted.

Yoongi hummed. "I can bring you back, you know."

Jimin turned to him, eyes searching. "Why?"

A shadow of a smile played on Yoongi’s lips. "Because you smiled here."

Jimin’s heart skipped a beat.

The engines roared to life, and soon, they were ascending into the sky, leaving Switzerland behind.

Jimin told himself he was relieved to go home.

But then why did it feel like he was leaving something behind?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~