SAVE ME || JIKOOK ✅

1.

JIMIN POV

"What are you wearing?" Papa grimaced as he entered my room.

I looked down at myself.

Dark sequined half-sleeves
pulled up to my biceps, a
black satin tank top which left my shoulders bare, blood red leather pants that hugged
me everywhere.

That was so very wrong and
evil in Papa's eyes—I looked
like a vampire prince in the shadows of my room and I
liked it.

Expressing myself how I
wished was the only true pleasure left to me.

Leaning back against a pink
fur pillow on my bed, I waved
my hand through the air.

"What, this little outfit?"

"Something I just slipped on."

Papa shut his eyes and let
out a long sigh. "Hopeless."

"Oh, you haven't seen the footwear yet."

"They just arrived this afternoon."

I jumped off my bed and pulled
a box out from under my bed.

When I held up the black,
over-the-knee boots with silver spikes sticking out from the sides, Papa went pale.

He said nothing but I read
his response too well.

I blinked back the emotion of
his disapproval.

After all these years of being rejected as one of our family
and community, even when I didn't believe anything they stood for, the shame my papa wore whenever he was around me still hurt.

"Like them?" I asked, widening my gaze.

Fanning himself with his left hand, he shook his head and
sat in the cerulean velvet chair by the shuttered window and faced me.

It was going to be a long conversation.

That chair.

It was something I'd begged
for two months before father
and papa got it for me.

This was before they tired of
my requests they couldn't,
out of guilt, deny me.

Before they gave me my own credit card for online shopping
so they didn't have to see the sinful things I bought.

My room was the nicest in
the entire household.

I had seven brothers and
though they each had their
own room, they were not
nearly as indulged as I was
by our extreme family wealth.

My parents considered me a
lost cause at least religiously
and they pitied me, so I pretty much got whatever I wanted.

My brothers had chores, prayer meetings and church services
to attend five times a week.

Hidden away as if I didn't
exist, I had none of those requirements.

I was not allowed to attend church or prayer meetings
and any chores our parents
had devised for their sons
were done outside in day
light which eliminated me.

I could only go out at night.

Papa leaned back, his hand coming up to play with the beaded fringe of my thick curtains.

"I didn't come here to discuss your unholy wardrobe."

"What, then?" I ran my thumbnail along the sequins
of my sleeve.

"You're turning nineteen tomorrow."

"No surprise with all your oddities that you are a late bloomer."