❝i'm dangerous.❞
❝well, hi dangerous. i'm violet.❞
a story where violet manson is hired as a model for the short fused jeon jungkook.
photographer au
sᴛᴀʀᴛᴇᴅ: 30/06/19
ᴇɴᴅᴇᴅ: 21/08/19
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IMG.15 - JULIEN
STARS GREW JEALOUS of how her figure shimmered and glowed brighter than any star in the galaxy was capable of. black velvet mimicking winter's night sky, freckled with gems that dazzled against the light that swam in the intoxicated air.
it failed to be observed as a fact to the girl that she was actually standing in the core of the parisian fashion gala. the hem of her dress ran behind her steps as she strolled down the grecian staircase, captive in the attention of the crowd that littered the golden ballroom. even the most rabid of dreams failed to manifest the diamond-bejewelled world she found herself lost in. drawing herself out of the pool of light that illuminated her figure after what had felt like decades.
"why are you so nervous?" his voice emerged from the sea of conversations and classical music that saturated the air, earning almost a flinch out of the anxious girl. "i'm-i'm not nerv--okay maybe i'm a little bit nervous, but can you blame me? this is my first ever professional photography event. i don't want to mess this up, especially if the creative director invited us." she whispered, finding her clutch on the older's arm becoming tighter with desperation.
jungkook's velvet fingers caressed her trembling frame. "you're not going to mess anything up, he's judging us on our artistic perception, not if we make fools of ourselves in a formal event like this. just be yourself and he'll love you nearly as much as i do." the older reassured, violet barely able to comprehend his words as her attention found itself spent wastefully on erasing the igniting flares of burning, bashful pigments in her cheeks.
even with all the framed moments that stood profoundly entitled in her mind, jungkook had a hold on her emotions like no one else did and no one else could.
he has me wrapped around his finger like a string of ribbon.
one look.
one word.
one touch.
and i'm left paralysed in a blush.
abandoned almost in a flustered state.
only liberated when i'm entangled in his arms.
only freed when i lose everything to him.
and as much as my moral mind pleads me to have some sovereignty from his rule, the love sick part of me only wants to give him more, even when i have nothing left to offer.
