𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐍, 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐍

p . j . m ー the dreamer

WHEN HE WAS younger, people in his beloved family would whisper to Jimin. 'in somnis veritas' the naive boy would giggle and play with the toys that surrounded him, rather than listening to nonsense that spewed out of the mouths of adults.

It is not until now, as he stands alone in the harsh winds of winter, that he understands the meaning of those simple words. He watched as the sun slowly, but surely rose over the horizon. Its bright rays of light engulfing the earth in a blanket of yellow. Jimin shivered as the cold air hugged him, taking in the sweet scent of ylang ylang and vetiver into its ghostly being. Jimin sighed and tilted his head to the side.

In the distance, past the coffee shop that had not yet opened, stood Kim Taehyung. Who looked like he had wandered straight out of the gates of hell. Jimin analysed the younger, he had always been very analytical. Taehyung's soft, charcoal coloured hair sat messily atop his head. His face sharp and handsome, even from the distance Jimin could recognise the beauty that Taehyung held. He watched as Taehyung took his fists out of his pocket, and gasped when he saw it. His knuckles, bloody and bruised.

Jimin squinted his eyes and furrowed his brows. He had dreamt something like this before. Kim Taehyung appearing from the darkness, showered in golden light that were as bright as tongues of fire. His hands full of the blood of another, his face attractive and stunning even as it appeared from the depths of hell. He was the boy who played with fire, the fire ran like blood in his veins and he breathed it as his air.

Jimin balanced on the balls of his feet, "in dreams there is truth," he muttered under his breath.

Ever since Jimin was young, he had always had a wild imagination. So full of life and colour. He would always have the most wondrous and exquisite dreams that he simply could not explain. That was until he befriended four men, four very special men he loved and cared for. His dreams were no more, the dreams of others filled his mind. And so, when these men left his life, his imagination ran out of its colour and became bland and weary. He himself became lost.

Jimin wondered why he had lost his way, he wondered and watched Kim Taehyung as he made his way up the street, lazily. Slowly swaying side to side. Jimin opened his mouth to shout Taehyung's name, he wanted to talk to him again. After all, it had been so long.

"TAEHYUNG!" he shouted, Taehyung turned his head sharply to face Jimin. His expression remained unchanging. Even when Jimin came closer to him.

"I saw you, coming out of the darkness, like Achilles charging into battle. I had a dream about that once you know," Jimin spoke, his voice sounding childlike.

"Oh really?" Taehyung replied, shifting his weight to one side of his body. He looked Jimin up and down. Jimin had always intrigued Taehyung. From how he spoke to the shoes that he wore on his feet. He was a charming and captivating person.

"Yes, in fact. This dream I had. Was the most amazing. I would love to remember it forever, but alas! I cannot," Taehyung chuckled at the absurd way in which Jimin spoke. He had not seen the chubby-cheeked male in what had seemed like a century.

"Jimin, are you forgetting something? Maybe about me?" Taehyung questioned, closing in on the younger, his lips apart and hungry. He felt like a wolf before Jimin, he was waiting for the right time to attack, for jimin to remember.

"What would I forget about you, Kim Taehyung? Your eccentric character is indeed hard to forget," Taehyung took a step back and scoffed. The wolf was no more.

"I guess you're just the same old idiot that everyone is saying you are, good luck, Park Jimin," Taehyung replied, giving a short wave of his hand before disappearing down the stone path of the street. Jimin stared at Taehyung's back with wide eyes. Good luck for what? What was he forgetting?

Jimin wanted to run after him, to ask him what he forgot. The wind seemed to blow much harder than before, zipping past Jimin's skin. Causing him to shift forward little by little. He licked his dry lips, thirsty for some water. He wanted to go back home. What was home? Where was home?

Jimin laughed to himself, heartedly.

"Oh, Kim Taehyung, how funny you are," of course once again, Jimin's mind and mouth were at two different speeds.

That's when it hit him. Kim Taehyung, that snake! That vile and repulsive of a creature! That beast, that absolute beast! How Jimin loathed that animal that walked these streets, that owned these streets. That controlled these streets with a mere click of a finger. Jimin balled his hands into fists, that's when he remembered. Knuckles, bloody knuckles. Jimin turned and ran, he ran faster than the wind, so fast he was beating the wind, the unpleasant smell of smoke contrasting with the sweet scent that Jimin held, cool air running through his hair, blowing it back.

He came to a halt at the entrance of a darkened alleyway, "Kim Taehyung, how cruel you are!" he muttered before stepping into the darkness, the pits of hell itself.

"There is much truth in dreams."

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