Chapter 8

Romans 3:23

23 "for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God,"

It hadn't been the wind, she knew it. She had heard something, a noise that seemed to come from pleasure, a sound that seemed to come from sin itself. And she could only imagine what had happened there, in that room, that specific room she knew to be Aeri and Yunjin's.

Jimin walked a few steps ahead of Wonyoung down the hallway, her hands clasped tightly behind her back. It was quiet again, she couldn't hear any more whispers, and God, apparently, had not struck anyone down yet.

She was afraid, the sound wouldn't leave her mind, and God's lack of reaction to it terrified her even more.

By the time they returned to their shared room, she could feel nausea rising up her throat again. She hated that feeling.

At her side, Wonyoung calmly set her shoes aide. Jimin briefly glanced at her but stood frozen near the door. She shut it after forcing herself to do something and the click echoed way too loudly in her ears.

If we say we have fellowship with him while we walk in darkness, we lie and do not practice the truth. But if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus his Son cleanses us from all sin.

Instead of praying, she stood there, her gaze wandering on Wonyoung's back, on the curves of her body.

"Are you okay?" Wonyoung asked softly, changing into her nightgown.

Jimin visibly frowned and lowered her eyes to her hands, intertwining her own fingers. "I-I'm fine," she lied.

Wonyoung turned to face her and Jimin's breath caught in her throat. Her brown hair cascaded on her shoulders and her soft eyes stared right into hers. There was nothing monstrous about Wonyoung, only softness and comfort.

"I don't think you are," concern could be heard in her voice.

Jimin took a step back. The tenderness in her voice was unbearable, tugging at her wrist and pressing on her chest constantly, as if waiting for her to finally give in.

"I heard something," Jimin said abruptly and closed her eyes. "In the hallway."

When she looked up to meet her gaze again, she perceived a flash of understanding passing through Wonyoung's eyes. She had heard it as well.

"I shouldn't have," she continued, a lump forming in her throat. "I thought it had been the devil living inside me, that I just made it up in my mind but I—" She pressed a hand to her chest. "It did weird things to me I—I felt something in my stomach."

She wanted to blame herself for telling this much to her roommate, she wanted to feel guilty for confessing something so sinful. But she couldn't hold it back anymore, it was physically and mentally impossible for her to keep everything to herself. She was drained, constantly on the verge of collapsing from this same guilt eating her alive. And she thought that, maybe, Wonyoung could help her with it.

"It's disgusting isn't it?" A broken laugh escaped her lips and she ran a hand through her hair nervously.

"Jimin—"

"Every passing day is a nightmare. I don't even feel like myself anymore," she kept going. "When I look in the mirror, all I see is the ghost of the woman I used to be. The one who was faithful, devoted to him and who never ever doubted her beliefs." Her eyes burned with tears she tried to hold back. "I did everything I could, you know that, but I can't—I can't take it anymore." Her knees wobbled.

"I just want my suffering to end." A sob came out from her lips and she wrapped her arms around herself to hug herself.

Wonyoung crossed the room silently, as if she didn't even know what to say to help her anymore. Her steps were slow, afraid that Jimin would jump away. Once in front of her, she gently put her hands on Jimin's arms, her fingers pressing into the fabric of her sleeves.

"Hey," she murmured, worry visible in her eyes. "Breathe."

All wrongdoing is sin, but there is sin that does not lead to death. Before she could help it, Jimin leaned forward and pressed her forehead against Wonyoung's shoulder. Her body followed, all the force she previously used to hold back gradually draining from her body. Her fingers traveled to hold Wonyoung's nightgown firmly.

"I—I do not want to die," she whispered shakily, her tears landing on the fabric of her roommates clothes. "I want to live I have—" she sobbed, clutching harder on the fabric. "I have never wanted to live so much."