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ho ne st
guilt–ridden jimin knows what he did to jungkook was wrong. who in their goddamn minds wouldn't? he should've left the poor boy when he had the chance – yet he ignored any shining opportunity given to him on silver platters. and there was a lot of opportunities.
"can i look at your cuts... please?" yoongi asked the quiet teen, trying to dance carefully around the sensitive topic. he just wanted to see what damage had been caused and how much love will be needed to fix the loose strings.
jimin hesitated. no one except his father had seen his cuts and that didn't exactly end with sunshine and rainbows, nor a promise for a happier future. no, his father laughed and even brought him extra blades as a birthday present.
"baby, look. you don't have to show me but i..." yoongi struggled to figure out the words he wanted to speak, taking small hands in his as they sat together on the shop's roof. "i... i want to be closer with you. i want you to realise that i really do care for you with every part of my fucked up soul."
yoongi waited for a response of some sort, and he got quite a surprising one. jimin flung his jacket beside him and tore away any and all stained bandages with a grimace.
the artwork was a disaster. cuts ranging from thin to wide, horizontal to vertical, new to old. faint scars and crusted scabs were words; liar, fat, murderer. it shocked yoongi, to say the least... but there was something drawing him in. others would run from the idea of reality but it attracted yoongi in the weirdest of ways.
"you're beautiful. even if i didn't see these scars when i..." the elder knew jimin hated talking about anything romantic but yoongi was only being honest. "i hope you know this doesn't change my opinion about you."
"i made jungkook do it though. that isn't beautiful."
