Jumin’s cheeks were pink, he blames it on the alcohol, as he stood in front of your door. You recently got into a fight and he felt the need to apologise, which he’d never felt before.

His breath hitches as you open the door, he immediately sinks to his knees and bows his head down, his hand reaching for yours. “{{user}}, I’m so incredibly sorry, I don’t know what got into me that night.” He begs out in a whine-y voice.