(JJK - 전정국 | PJM - 박지민)
❝A true king doesn't give a fuck about the scars he'll have to bear to bring his people safety,❞ Jimin scowls at the vile man in front of him, his eyes aflame with fury.
❝And a true king never asserts his power by torturing s...
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Jungkook winces.
"I thought you said you feel no pain, brother," Jimin teases, a frisky smile plastered on his lips. "What's wrong?"
Jungkook shoots the older a glare. "I'm human, hyung. I feel pain."
Woah. Heavy words. Uttered only as a reply to a mere joke, yet, weighted to the point where Jungkook can feel his heart drop down deep into his stomach.
"That's not what you said before doing this." Jimin states in a matter of fact tone.
"I didn't expect it to hurt this much." Jungkook stiffens, the pain shooting through him. "This is so bad."
Jimin stands before him with his arms crossed over his chest. The shirt he's wearing is loose for him, hence the neckline hangs deep, reaching till his stomach. A small laughs erupts of out of Jimin. "I told you not to go big. It's your first time, what were you thinking?"
"I don't know," Jungkook lets out a silent cry as the man finishes, bowing and keeping his tools aside. "I don't know."
Jungkook stands up. He takes a good look at his full arm. That morning, as the brothers took a round of the place, they came across the tribe's tattoo artist. It struck Jungkook that every member of the tribe had tattoos, the women comparatively lesser than the men. Some people only had one tattoo — a dagger, while others had more. He had assumed tattoos were an important part of their tribe's culture.
The brother's never had any tattoos. Infact, in Busan, tattoos were a signification of rebellion — outlaws, in some extreme cases. Jungkook had always wanted a tattoo, however. He liked the idea of having his body painted with ink. He never knew why but he had craved tattoos ever since he was a teen boy.
Now, when he took notice that they were free here, without Jiyein giving them an earful about dignity, without social restrictions, he decided to get his arm inked. He was one of the kings of Busan, after-all. No one could speak over him.
Thus, he insisted his older brother to accompany him. To his amusement, Jimin had agreed to get a tattoo himself. Maybe it was a good day for the younger lad. Jimin, who had always been disciplined, now carried the token of revolt. Except, Jimin only got one word tattooed on his ribs. And Jungkook had charged at himself with the pain of the needle inking his full arm up till his shoulders.
"Sir, you must give your arm some rest." The artist advises as the brothers leave the hut.
"Are you okay, brother?" Jimin asks, catching note of the distress on the younger's face. Jungkook's forehead has been creased since last Jimin can remember. His jaw is clenched, bottom lip slightly bit by his lips. Jungkook is stuck inside his own mind, restless and disturbed.
