divine ; yoonmin

act 8, scene 3

act 8, scene 3
it's like fire

IT was something like fire; the way yoongi's presence warmed and kicked at jimin's skin in pops of fireworks and new year's sparklers. the way the blue haired boy's thoughtful hums of appreciation made jimin's every step as light and graceful as the surrounding air; a ballerina en pointe.

the world was washed in orange and red, pink and purple, a subtle blue seeping down into the spilled paint colors in somber. yoongi's feet padded along the pavement, a melting ice cream cone held tightly in his clutches. the cool cream crept down the sides of the chocolate swirled waffle cone and he made desperate attempts at lapping up the mess with a flat tongue.

the two had been out all afternoon and into the late evening, the setting sun a timer for when they'd return home. there were questions jimin wanted to ask. he always had questions that never seemed to make it out of his mouth, staying clogged in his throat.

he wondered where yoongi's friends had gone. wondered why yoongi had to leave so suddenly. wondered why he was called 'park' when they parted.

and finally making it back to jimin's quaint apartment, in the confines of his mango orange walls and plush furniture, the dying sun and night breeze fluttering into the room, jimin watched yoongi sit himself down on his piano bench.

he wasn't even surprised when the older began to play a soft, twinkling tune.

"darlin', darlin', darlin' i fall to pieces when i'm with you," jimin sung quietly to himself, watching the muscles in yoongi's upper back and arms flex. he stood transfixed and without a thought, studying yoongi's skin and movements and being. the kitchen tile under his bare feet cool to the touch, and shockingly so, like being dunked under ice water.

"my cherries and wine," he stepped out of the kitchen. "rosemary and thyme," made his way into the living room. "and all of my peaches," jimin's home was filled with the delightful smell of cinnamon and a sugary vanilla from the candles he'd lit earlier, "are ruined." his haunting voice was directly behind yoongi now.

he moved like a ghost, taking a spot beside the piano player and humming along to the familiar tune. he wondered when yoongi had listened to the song, as it was from one of the vinyls jimin had neatly perched against his instrument.

the rest of the world melded into the art made by yoongi and conformed to his every motion. the outside life from the cracked windows were drowned out and long forgotten, the cars and people no longer in simultaneous existence with the piano chords.

and as yoongi's skillful fingers danced across the keys, he looked over at jimin from the corner of his eye. he indulged in the deep way jimin's eyes settled on his hands, never leaving their delicate dance. he realized, it was suddenly hot, even for february.

the sound stopped. the outside world resumed with unflattering noise and static. jimin breathed for what felt like the first time. "why did you stop?" and speaking as if he hadn't uttered a single syllable in years, voice hoarse and panting out of effort to form words.

"it's hot." yoongi replied. he couldn't stop looking at jimin's face. why couldn't he stop looking at jimin's face? his breathing was shallow and deep all at the same time, labored and struggling but also taking in too much air. it was like falling from a plane and being hooked up to oxygen.

"the windows are open though?" the clear statement said like a question in resemblance to the confusion on jimin's features.

yoongi couldn't look away, didn't want to stop looking, either. the boy had such a soft voice but his being was sharp and defined at every corner, and despite this, his movements were met with nothing less of grace and water-like ease. yoongi gave an uncomfortable laugh, tilting his head slightly to the side. "oh." he said, hair falling gently into his vision and clouding jimin in an even softer filter.

he understood the feeling when jimin had finally looked toward him. the realization didn't come as a bang, nor a clash thunder and lightning, but rather a serene trickle of rain or the soft, melting feel of cotton candy.

"i get it now." yoongi's vague and off topic claim only brought on more confusion from the younger. jimin asked what he meant, but was only answered with a small and closed smile, so he asked again. it was quiet for a few seconds while yoongi tried to find the proper words:

"why my heart stutters."

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AM I JIN BIASED??? IS THIS REALLY HAPPENING??? fuck

um anyway,

mic drop is my favorite stage?? and i love go go but i also felt second hand embarrassment??

y'all!! jin and namjoon really went all the fuck the way off during mic drop though??? WHAT THEY SO LOUD FOR?? and tae-father-of-my-children-hyung needs to have several seats.

jimin??? my boo deddy always on point wif di beat n we all knew them fax n e way so it ain't news. but!!! i want my last name replaced and my eggs fuckin fertilized!!! that stage made me want to fight but also make love¿ que? comment?

i thought blond jin was the devil, but just like his demon buddy jimin, it seems that title belongs to dark haired jin. at least jimin doesn't have black hair (though that rlly needs to make a comeback!!) bc thas a whole busan demon right thurrrrr (i like the way u do it right thuuurrr) (ok bye now)