Caged (Jimin BTS)

IV = Min Suga

On Saturday, I woke up to the sound of something sizzling. To be put precisely, pancake sizzling on a pan. By my face.

"It was breakfast on bed, Naomi." Namjoon pleaded as we stepped out into a rather warm autumn morning. "Setting your hair on fire is not my motive."

His muffled laughter only made me feel like shoving the frying pan into his mouth. But we already left the house so I cannot do that. But a kick to his shin can do.

"Ouch- That hurts!" He shouted at me. My mood was suddenly so bright.

"It was supposed to be, idiot brother." We walked side by side (this way, I cannot kick him again) to our destination that day. Namjoon sometimes stopped in the middle of our journey to deliver remedies and bottles of syrup to some house that asked for them.

"People in Omelas didn't get sick." Blowing into my palms, I rubbed it together to keep warm. "So why did they ordered those from us?"

"It's not really for them." Namjoon answered. "Sometimes it's for their pets, and children often injures themselves. So they kept some of Father's potion just in case."

I nodded and tugged at Namjoon's denim jacket. "We're here."

Nodding, Namjoon pushed the two-metre-high wooden gate open and quickly stepped back. A ax blade, almost the same high as me, swiveled past him and disappeared. Namjoon chuckled when I trembled behind him.

"You didn't fail to scare my little sister every time, Suga." A pale figure in soiled black overalls scowled at us from the porch.

"Don't bring a chick here if you fear it being beheaded." And he adds, pointing at my brother, "And don't call me that if you didn't want to get the chick's fate."

Wrenching his door open, the pale guy stepped into his house. Namjoon sighed and walked inside. I stayed close to him.

His interior is mostly black, dark blue and grey. Most of the furniture looked like it was handmade but what amazes me the most was the marble kitchen counter. It was milky white, glossy and shining.

"What's up, Doc?" He had undo some of the overalls' buttons, revealing his white shirt inside. "You rarely visited me on a weekend. And bringing your sister as well-"

He nodded at me and I bowed at him. Namjoon scratched his head.

"I have a favour to ask... Can you do something about this?" He pulled down my snowcap and my frizzy hair popped up like spring. I winced as he took in my disaster of a hair.

"Namjoon did it! He put a frying pan next to my face when I was on bed and burnt my hair. Now it looked like grape-flavoured cotton candy!"  I wailed and covered my face with my hair. How can he did it to his own sister, idiot brother-

"Leave it to me." He shrugged. "My talent is as glossy as my name, you know."

"Thanks a lot, Yoongi-hyung." He sighed and I bit my lips, bowing again at him.

"Stop with all those crap, let's get it done." Nodding at me to follow him, Yoongi led me out of his house to a workshop just outside the back door.

He opened the door for me, a mahogany door the same tone as his hair and I stepped inside. Unlike the house which is light and airy, the workshop smelled a little bit like smoke and wood. The window was opened, giving the view of the mountainside.

"Sit in front of the mirror. Just drag the chair from the bar. I'll be around in a sec." Yoongi disappeared into a room and I did as what he told. Pulling my hair behind me, I looked around the place.