"I'd just like to be yours and I guess I want you to be mine."
"Sweetheart, that's not weird. It's cute."
･ﾟ:* jimin is a sad ballerina, who falls for the lies of taehyung, a mysterious photographer who is nothing but trouble.
( complete )
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TAEHYUNG .
JIMIN [21:09] : you dyed your hair red !?
TAEHYUNG [21:09] : no shit
JIMIN [21:09] : no need to be aggressive
JIMIN [21:09] : i just meant you didn't dye it just coz i said my fave colour was red, right ?
TAEHYUNG [21:09] : well i did actually
TAEHYUNG [21:09] : partially
TAEHYUNG [21:09] : i really felt like dying my hair & red was just the most prominent colour in my mind :)
TAEHYUNG [21:10] : why , don't you like it ?
JIMIN [21:10] : no i love it !!
JIMIN [21:10] : u look amazing. i was just a bit shocked.
TAEHYUNG is typing ...
JIMIN [21:11] : didn't you say you dye your hair when you're sad tho ??
READ [21:11]
°•ิ.•
SUNDAY
I hate this feeling: the feeling of painful tingles against my skin, juxtaposing the moonstruck butterflies swarming in my stomach. It's truly painful to feel the burn of alcohol at it crawls down my gullet, as if all of those toxins will just drown out these overwhelming jitters of joy. As more and more of those familiar feelings of self-loathing inundate me, more and more gulps of vodka scuttle down my throat.
I hate those butterflies and I wish they would just disappear.
I wish everything would just disappear.
And, slowly, it does.
As I consume more, my sobriety falters and the world slurs into an abundance of colours before my eyes. Hazy blankets of pink and blue intertwist, shadows of lonely vibrance crossing my vision. My head is pounding, but that's all I can feel; a horrible numbness takes a hold of me as I feel bodies cling to my worth.
Music blares and it's heavy, like water, surrounding all the occupants of the club and drowning out our sobriety and dignity. Sacrilegious bodies grind against me and I'm too lost in a stream of drunken thoughts to comprehend what I'm doing.
I don't want to dance, I don't want to move, but I think doing what I want would be more painful. Besides, I'm a disgrace of a human with disgusting emotions.
I don't deserve what I want; I don't even want what I want.
Although still slightly sober, I allow body heat to besiege me and allow heavy breathers to spit on my neck.
After all, I don't deserve better.
°•ิ.•
MONDAY
I just want to eat his heart.
I wish I had the genuine confidence to just take him. I want to make him mine; I want to have him so I can shatter him and make him get out of my fucking head.
I don't like the power he has over me. I barely know him, yet I'd do anything for him to just become one with me. I want to digest every single flaw of Park Jimin and infuse our souls, make each of us whole.
I truly hate my emotions. I hate how they can adjudicate even the smallest of feelings and contaminate my body with these repugnant feelings of lust.
No, longing.
It's just longing, plain and simple.
I long for somebody to share everything with, somebody to love me. But longing is temporary, it's just a state of mind humans have when they catch a glimmer of hope.
It's not real - emotions aren't fucking real.
He's just pretty. He's just easy. And I have him wrapped around my pinky finger.
I have him in my grasp, but, emotions are interchangeable and soon he could slip through my fingers.
And it's scary how okay with that I am.
It's quite scary how much I just long to see his smile.
