Beauty in white. | Ksj•Kth

11.

“How's he?” I asked in an anxious state as Jimin arrived in drawing room exhaling and slumping down on the sofa.
      Jimin took a moment before replying me; he kept fumbling with fingers with little conversation apparently going inside him.
     I placed hand on small shoulder that had a short tremble. “What did he tell you? You both had conversation right? About what he was talking?” He asked earnestly as he placed his hand on mine.

“Jimin what happened? You didn't answered my question before, it's giving me anxiety. Just tell me he's fine.” He looked at me for a moment. I don't know why he is acting like this—
    “My brother is still unconscious. But, doctor said he's fine.” I sighed in relief. “Did he hurt you? I heard his raged voice before.” he questioned.
     “No, I'm fine.” I smoothed my fingers on his jammed, diquited hand.
      “He usually gets mad and upset when he opens up his past. He is very sensitive to that topic.”

“He told me about his late husband.” I said. Jimin bit his lower lip and shut his eyes. 
  “Mr Kim Seokjin. He told me about his betrayal and death. Not in detail just about the moments that haunts him.”

“My brother forgot himself and his worth when he fell for him. He hid his disgust strenuously when seeing his spouse with somebody else; well pretended of not being aware of it. Though it cut deeper to him.” A lonely tear fell on his cheek. “God forgive me for my foul mouth but that Kim Seokjin was tawdry, filthy, and a whore. He immodestly ran away with his illicit lover without letting his conscience speak, for once. He didn't even thought of my brother's selfless love? How could he still wish to live after that?” His voice cracked with hint of bitterness and anger.
    “Offcourse, a man with degenarated  heart can brazenly live upon his sins but not longer for he gets cursed by those who were hurt, destroyed by him. In the end they go from the very different place they wished for. They go where they truly belong. Seokjin is perfect instance of it.” He jeered. “He got his punishment. But, I just don't get who's more suffering in this. He or my brother?”

I wished to escort this frail sad self in his room but he stayed there with bids of tears never leaving his cheek and his tongue never resting from cursing his brother's wife. He poured his heart out by recalling their troubled past. He began the story of someone who's every word is pull of tears and bitterness.

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• The past is written with detail but Jimin won't dig that deep. It's for the readers.

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“Taehyung son! Oh Good God, just don't rudely ignore your mother. I know you can hear me. Come down, meet your mother who had longed to see you.” Mrs Kim walked into mansion and first hugged Jimin who ran towards his mother as he heard her before entering.

“My Jimin.” she kissed his chubby cheek. “I missed you. Dear how are you both doing?”
    
“We both are doing great mother. It's just that brother doesn't let me go for drawing classes or have any tutor instead.” Jmin pouted.
      “I'll surely talk to him but now I'd rather have another important converse.” He gave a peck on her cheeks and walked further inside, already on stairs to ascend on his elder son's room. 

“Oh son.” she walked towards her son who was surrounded by work papers scattered on the table. His focused face scrunched up as his mother interrupted. He is business man with serious habit of working all the day.

“Look at you! No warmth in you, callous.” She clicked her tongue and took a sit across him and tried to find the eyes of Taehyung.
      “I think your future spouse will bring you some affection, warmth.” she paused as she saw utter irritation on his face. “And why you bound your brother from drawing classes. Let him enjoy.”