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   Jimin found himself meandering into a vacant scape of mist and vapor

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Jimin found himself meandering into a vacant scape of mist and vapor. The rose that's stem now flawed at a minor break of its greenery kept its twirl at Jimin's pacifism towards its aroma. How the nature-sworn scent with the musk of Taehyung's cologne tempered over its petals. It eased him.

He continued to tip his nose over the white rose to hinder his indignation towards Jungkook. Jungkook and how dismissive he'd been when he left Jimin in a space of ignorance and abandonment.

He paused, slumping with the rose lowered to his hips as he kicked at the turf, "Fuck you Jungkook."

"My that mouth of yours."

Jimin heaved, spinning around with a weighted hand to his chest. He glowered, scrutinizing Namjoon's ducked head beneath hovering branches.

"And I do not reference you and your erotic successor." Namjoon continued, finding his head lifted once he met from beneath the bough to dispose himself in front of Jimin.

"Fucks sake." Jimin sighed.

"Relax now. I mean not to demean you. It's admirable." Namjoon bent his peering towards Jimin's, recognizing how the smaller had looked down so hurriedly.

"How!? I'm humiliated." Jimin jerked his fallen head to look behind himself, hoping to find red hair and sunken eyes peeking from the bushes.

"Does your head expand your body's scale for you to keep it above your shoulders?" Namjoon mannered his tone to alleviate Jimin slightly for him to turn back around with a modest peek.

"Hm?" Jimin poked a prompt glance, cowering again when he obtained a non-vista sight of Namjoon's lack of veneer.

"You could get by the gouged eye of The Rabbit and the unadorned bone, blood, and sadism of The Hatter, yet cannot master your perception of my festering?" Namjoon nearly taunted Jimin with a subliminal offense to the dread tempted over the smaller's expression.

Jimin staggered, scratching further to erode the rose's stem before responding diffidently, "Sorry. There's just... A lot more... That's like- Like shown. Nearly half of your face is unvieled in a very, very unpleasant manner."

"Ah well, you had asked once if my face may grow fatigued from charming myself so often with the allure of a cigarette. Do you recall that?" Namjoon aligned his head now, feeling un-accused of a harrowing visual. His.

"I do. At the station. When the Wonder Refuge released me." Jimin lifted his hunch, stood firmly with his gaze still left aside to neglect Namjoon's appearance.

"Yes, yes. I had told you that a fragment of my face might as well wither off, and so," Namjoon raised a precise hand to the explicit bone shaped across part of his visage, "It appears that neither of us been mistaken."

"But you were always like that... Weren't you?" Jimin looked back down with the rose hung below him.

"No. At least..." Namjoon's hand drew through the fog, dropping promptly when he chose to maintain his silence.

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