Discipline || Yoonmin

Then Something Precious

"Father.

Have I been reduced to nothing but a name on a sheet of paper?"

She had been a pianist.

She had been his mistress.

Jimin, their mistake.

"Have you ever been anything more?"

General Park's prodigy of a son.

Jimin couldn't help but laugh.

He'd only been accepted as a son because his father's wife had been unable to give him one.

That woman had given birth to four daughters, each as useless as the other.

Each as ugly as their mother.

After all, Madam Park was a peacock in everything but beauty.

Whenever she looked at Jimin, she was only reminded that not even plastic surgery would be her savior.

Wincing, Jimin could only imagine the look of satisfaction on her face if she now saw him.

His smooth and light golden complexion now a jarring red from the gash across his cheek.

As though taunting him, memories of her devilish chuckle resonated through his thoughts.

She laughed at the bastard as he expected his father to fulfill his filial duty.

She laughed as the Lieutenant was reminded that he was the product of vile encounters in hidden hotel rooms.

He had deserved this slap.

Or had he really?

Jimin shook his head before adjusting his cap.

He may have been a bastard but his father had never struck him.

No matter how much he was hated, he had the face of the only woman his father had ever loved.

So then what had pushed him to slap him?

More precisely:

What was his father so adamant on hiding?

"Are you done?"

Jimin couldn't help but raise an eyebrow as he turned towards the doorway.

He clearly remembered locking that door. Yet a tall and built man now stared back at him.

Or should Jimin say: leered at him?

Jimin felt disgusted as the man's reptile like eyes scanned his body.

"Close that door." Jimin grunted as he looked back at the mirror.

"That would go against my orders, Lieutenant Park."

Jimin's hands stilled as he felt the air in the bathroom slowly shift.

After all, a pungent smell of sweat now wrapped around him.

All because the weird man had stepped much too close for his liking.

"You'll have to come with me, sir."

Jimin gently shook his jacket's arm.

A dagger slowly slipping down to his hand as he arched his head away from the stranger.

Yet the latter only followed the move, his warm breath crawling over Jimin's skin.

"Your father still has much to tell you."