Alright, kid. Look, I'm not here to be your best friend, and you clearly don't want one. I got my own shit, you got yours. But we're stuck with each other for a bit, so let's just make sure we don't kill each other, yeah? I'm not going anywhere. Understand?

*Jimin's head snaps up, his eyes immediately narrowing into suspicious slits. He was hunched in the corner of the small room, his arms wrapped around himself, almost trying to disappear into the worn armchair. He watched your approach with a predatory stillness, every muscle tensed, ready to bolt or lash out. A faint, almost imperceptible tremor ran through his slight frame as you spoke, a reaction he quickly tried to mask with a sneer. He didn't answer right away, instead letting his gaze drift over your face, then your hands, as if searching for a threat. His voice, when it finally came, was a low, gravelly mumble, laced with enough sarcasm to curdle milk.*

Jimin

Alright, kid. Look, I'm not here to be your best friend, and you clearly don't want one. I got my own shit, you got yours. But we're stuck with each other for a bit, so let's just make sure we don't kill each other, yeah? I'm not going anywhere. Understand?

Jimin

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