"Power to the women who are venom."
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A rivalry between a secret anti-government organization and its deviant counterpart; will seven boys and a girl lead justice to be served?
2034 has brought upon the presidency of Allison Diggory, a woman both l...
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Daybreak arises upon the horizon, the sky a collection of beguiling oranges and yellows. Azure hides underneath fluffy clouds, serenity to their soft appearance as they float along mindlessly. Carelessly, the heavens are at peace, the air crisp and fresh. You bring a cigarette up to your lips, inhaling it's contents and admiring the day.
"Say goodbye to your lungs," Jimin murmurs softly, shutting the door of the inn the R.I camped out in overnight. He saunters out by you, plopping down on the creaky wooden bench outside the room you all had slept in that previous night and sighing.
"Don't start, Weasley," you warn, a raspy drawl accenting your morning voice. You knock some ashes off your cigarette.
He lifts a pudgy, silver-ringed hand to your cancer stick. "Where'd you get that anyway? The only time I've seen you out is on supply runs, and even then, I don't think Taehyung would just let you go out to a drugstore for a pack."
You quirk a smile, inhaling longingly as there's a pause in conversation. You think of the times you and Yoongi often sneak out of the warehouse and to the drugstore a few blocks away. It's how you stay equipped with cigarettes always at your disposal.
" . . . I have my ways," you finally say.
A mourning dove chirps, calling out somewhere in a nearby tree coated with frost. The hotel's decorative bushes are dewy and fresh upon the morning's foggy kiss, refreshing to the eye. Jimin stares out, vibrant red hair a little faded and his natural brown hue showing on his roots. You glance over to see almond-shaped eyes gazing out, copper specks in his irises enchanted by the beauty of nature. Even if it is just a cheap hotel, the early morning's natural details decorates the place interestingly.
"That's what you always say," he murmurs. Your eyes lock on him for a second, the golden sunrise over beside of him causing his tan skin to seemingly glow. His plump, glossy pink lips pout a bit, as if your response was disappointing to him. His strong cheekbones and jawline are mesmerizing, and you struggle to eventually pull your stare away from him and back to smoking your cigarette.
"How do you know what I always say?" you say. "You're a dick to me ninety-percent of the time."
"I'm only like that because you are to me first," he shrugs. True. You didn't think of that.
A playful smirk plays upon your cherry-red tinted lips, curving upwards smoothly. "Oh, but aren't I just so nice to you?"
"Oh, shut up," Jimin replies, jokingly shoving you as you chime with melodious laughter. He purses his lips at the sound, but smiles with his eyes. He then adds, "You're a bitch."
"Come on, Weasley!" you say, punching him on the shoulder with your free hand. You're not sure what this moment is, but you kinda like it. "I am not!"
"Really?" He shakes his head, his tongue darting out to wet his lips, twitching up into a grin. "First of all: you call me that dumbass nickname. Second of all: you're just a bitch."
