But I Still Want You | Jikook ✓

Chapter 16: I am Not Scared

Jimin

My fingers fiddle with the end of my braid as I make my way towards the daunting castle of King Namjoon. I swallow, gripping my cane tighter as I walk towards what feels like a suicide mission.

I keep replaying Jungkook's words of encouragement and instructions in my mind as a way to cope with the stress of what I am about to endure. Today, my name is Jeon Jimin, the grandfather of the famous wizard, Jeon Jungkook. Jungkook is my lazy, good-for-nothing grandson whom I've been taking care of despite being much older in age. Why? Because the no-good boy went and got himself injured while concocting 'another one of his crazy love potions.'

Groaning, I pinch the bridge of my nose. There is no way that I can pull this off. I can rant about 'what made a real man back in my day' all I want, but I doubt I have the acting chops to give a compelling performance. Plus, Jungkook is none of those things, so how am I supposed to bash him to the king of all people? I'm helplessly in love with him for goodness sake!

A carriage pulls up beside me and I move over to the side as the door swings open and none other than the Mage of the Waste reveals themself, eyes narrowing at me as they cross their arms. Oddly enough, however, there is no spark of recognition in their eyes. I don't know why they still seem to have a deep-seeded problem with me.

"You smell like Jungkook," they comment and my face contorts.

How weird.

"I am his grandfather, it only makes sense."

"Oh, please, do you really expect anyone to fall for that pathetic excuse for a disguise?"

"Do you expect anyone to fall for yours?" My eyes widen and I cover my mouth, confused as to what compelled me to say such a thing.

The mage's eyes widen and they quickly shut their mouth, stepping into a carrying seat operated by their inhuman lackeys. I must have struck some kind of chord for them to not snap back.

For some reason, the mage's appearance looks like it's distorting, flickering between beautiful and ghastly. I hold my breath and my stomach twists itself into knots as I see the skin go from dark, beautiful, and supple to gray, cracked, and decaying. Their cheeks go from smooth with a regal bone structure to looking sunken. The mage is a walking corpse with no beating heart on the inside, putting on a mask of superficial beauty on the outside. It is truly sad to be ugly on the inside. Although I may not find myself physically attractive, I do believe that I try my best to be a caring and genuine person. That's why despite my downfalls and lack of romance, I've always found myself in some sort of acquaintanceship.

As we reach the steps, the mage and their henchmen look like they've hit an invisible barrier.

"What is the meaning of this?" The mage roars. "How dare you force us to come only to not let us pass!"

Furrowing my brows, I touch the first step with my cane, tapping it on the stone curiously. Then, I take a wary step. "I think we have to traverse on foot. How can you be expected to fight in a war if you cannot ascend some stairs?"

Their eyes widen in shock. "The staircase is so ridiculously high and steep! It's like some sort of torture device."

"Maybe so." I hum. "But complaining won't get us there any sooner."

They grumble as they get down and make the first step. "And people call me evil."

-

The trek up the steps is a long and grueling one, the mage's appearance flickering slower than before. Each step seems to age them, sucking the magic from the once beautiful figure like a leech.