In the feeble lighting, Jimin studied the obscure features of the women drawn in the sketchbook. Feeling dust coating his fingers, he subconsciously rubbed them together.
“But isn’t Seokjin…?” Jimin’s thoughts were in disarray.
“Yes, but I was too young at the time,” said Taehyung. “At that age, I didn’t know anything. We were very poor back then, and dad had to work very hard to provide for the two of us. He didn’t have time to look after me. When I went to kindergarten, the majority of kids my age were betas, and I saw that their moms were all women with long hair, so I assumed that my mom would be a woman with long hair as well.”
“Ah, I see.” Jimin nodded.
To Taehyung, these childhood memories were probably far from happy; he’d spoken of them in a solemn and serious tone, making Jimin regret that he’d gone about it jokingly, rather than trying to say something that could comfort him.
Only a dozen pages were filled with drawings; the rest of the sketchbook had been left blank, or perhaps, little Taehyung had suddenly realised that his mom didn’t look like that, and therefore he’d lost interest in drawing.
Jimin put the sketchbook back on the shelf and studied the row of wooden figurines, saying, “Your dad had it so hard… but he still gave you quite a precious gift.”
“Mm.” Taehyung said, “We moved several times. I’ve lost most of my childhood items, only these are left.”
“At least you still have a dad. My parents are gone, I don’t have a single memory of them.” Jimin thought to himself, as for who had it worse, it was still him. Furthermore, Taehyung’s other dad, the alpha, was still alive—he just wasn’t willing to acknowledge him as his father.
After saying that, Jimin realised that comparing whose life was worse was meaningless, so he quickly lightened his tone and said, “Have you found the tools yet? Can you fix the wiring?”
“I’ve got them,” said Taehyung. “Let’s go.”
The garden’s electric wiring was fed from the villa, and the distribution board was also on the east side of the villa, not far from the shed.
Jimin held the flashlight beside Taehyung as he checked the wiring. Taehyung didn’t appear to be very skilled as he tinkered around, and after a while, he still hadn’t found the damaged wire. “If you can’t fix it, don’t fix it,” said Jimin. “Let’s just finish up.”
Yet Taehyung kept at it, saying, “You don’t want to continue?”
“Not really, I don’t have anything to talk about with them.”
“Do you not like Seungmin?”
“Well, I don’t not like him, but I don’t like him either.” Jimin bent at the waist and knees the entire time he shone a light on the distribution board for Taehyung, and after a long time, he couldn’t help but brace his hand on Taehyung’s shoulder.
Taehyung’s shoulder sank slightly under his touch, and at the same time, a faint noise came out of the distribution board, and lights around the villa abruptly lit up.
“Taehyung!” Jimin exclaimed in a panic as he leapt back.
Taehyung rose slowly to his feet. “What are you doing?”
Jimin patted his chest. “I thought you got electrocuted.”
Taehyung stooped down to tidy up the scattered tools. “That’s how you’d react if I got electrocuted?”
“I was going to find a stick to push you away.”
Taehyung looked up and gave him a cold look.
Jimin believed that he was pretty innocent. “What did you want me to do? Isn’t this a normal reaction? Or should I hug you and get electrocuted too?”
YOU ARE READING
On-Way Passage || ᴠᴍɪɴ
Fanfiction[COMPLETED] Park Jimin, a Beta, awoke after a car accident discovering that he couldn't remember anything from the last six years. He didn't remember being the top perfumer in the world, the death of his grandfather and, most importantly, he didn't...
