BTS One-Shots (By Kim-Seraphina)

Jimin "Forgotten Wolf" 21+

Jimin's POV

§When you look at a butterfly you notice two things. One, how beautiful it is, it's natural beauty so effortless and apparent. It's like when you meet someone new for the first time and instantly feel attracted to them. Or when you move to a new place and actually observe the nature surrounding you, so natural, yet so truly surreal. It looks so attractive that you can't help but want to put your hands all over it. It's like being a kid in a candy store. But then you get distracted by all the bright colours and design that you forget the protective wrapping enclosing it. You see, the thing with butterfly's is that they appear to be so gracious, so carefree with no worries in the world. They float around like luminous bubbles in the sky, only noticeable by those who are truly searching for something. You become entranced by them and it's all you can focus on at the time. 

But it's only those who are truly lost, who notice one of these innocent creatures, and notice one other thing. That being, how preciously fragile they are. They're more fragile than glass and that of multicoloured tissue paper. One wrong movement and you'll break its wings they use to fly in a millisecond. You'll destroy its entire life or at least complicate it so much to the point of no free will or reason to carry on. Part of me always wants to scoop one into my hands but my hands are rough from so many negative memories of my past.

 I'm like a rotting tree. I stand tall and guard others from the outside, my appearance making both genders stop in their tracks to admire me. On the inside though, I was basically dying, struggling to get any oxygen and beginning to crumble from the time and wear. No longer did I have any emotion in my body, my face remaining a vacant and cold expression. Grey as a statue and as lifeless as a bone, my body frozen from ice and the bitter memories of my past. I'd done things to people that were only unimaginable to some. I'd broken people and destroyed lives for no other reason than my selfish ones. I dosed myself daily on the high and rush I got from it, only to now drag myself around like a transparent soul from the loneliness it left me with. I'd paid the price for my evil, but it still haunted me. It's like I'm trapped in a never-ending horror movie. I had to grow cold, grow mysterious and heartless. People didn't be-friend me, they feared me and wished they had never met me. I was a tree in a field, far, far up in the hills, surrounded by sharp edges and darkness. 

That's why I can't be near a butterfly. If I killed or even as to hurt such a beautiful thing how could I ever live with myself? 

It's like beauty and the beast, except it wouldn't matter how many petals were on my flower, the butterfly would never choose my sweet nectar and love me. I'd just rot over and over again, my petals darkening more and more each time to the point of decay. 

To be honest though, we aren't talking about a butterfly are we. 

I'm talking about her, the girl sat only a good few metres away from me, underneath a large tree, jotting away in her diary as if it was going to magically organize her entire life. It was like people thought noting down all their worries and troubles was going to make them any better. Like some magic spell would be cast down and fix everything. Life isn't a fairy-tale though, so in turn, noting all your junk down just made it more apparent that your own life actually sucked. Still, I can't help but wonder what her junk is, trying to detail the letters she was writing by the movement of the pen placed inside of her hand. I wasn't that much of a genius though and instead made up sentences in my head and made assumptions based on her attire and accessories. The coffee stain on her shirt made me realise she had been to that coffee shop this morning, the one she liked the best and she had once worked at when she needed extra money. She still carried around her old name tag clipped onto her bag, no company logo attached. Now she solely worked at one of those small local stores, the private ones owned by either money grabbing leeches or people trying to become one.