Bangtan Universe • BTS oneshots

15. Crimson Peak (II) • vkookyoonmin

A broken carcass of tendons and shreds of pale flesh, the small ribcage barely fits the width of his palm and bends under the pressure of his fingers. Jimin winces at the boiled mess on the ivory plate, swallowing two bites before setting the starched napkin on the table.

"Lemme guess, pheasant is too - what's the word - crude for your cosmopolitan palate." Taehyung scans Jimin's plate and remarks, with a casual lilt in his voice, "More for the servants, I suppose."

"It tastes fine. I'm just...not hungry." Jimin snaps back, and picks up the delicate bone china teacup next to him. The familiar bitter taste hits his tongue, pushing a silent sigh out of him, as his shoulders droop.

He gulps the warm fluid down in one swift chug, not caring how insolent he may appear. The cup slams down onto the small matching plate with a resounding clink, piercing through the staleness of the cavernous kitchen.

Jimin imagines the fluid trickling into every cell of his being, willing for it to do its magicSoon, the numbness will take over, making this whole place a little bit more tolerable, easing the loneliness that pulses and swarms on the inside, making a mangled mess of his heart.

"I think I'll go upstairs for a bit." Jimin pulls himself out of the chair and murmurs.Taehyung's gaze snaps up, lips stained by the Merlot sloshing in the chalice in hand. He speaks after a pause, "Well, save a bit of him for the rest of us, will ya? Don't be greedy now."

jimin turns away from the low cackle that follows, and pads towards the stairs. Past the glowing hearth, up and up he goes, glancing up at the cracked ceiling with specks of snow drifting in weightlessly, spiraling down down down.

It takes him an eternity to stagger to the attic. The heavy oak door is half open today, as Jimin pushes on it hesitantly with all the strength left in him, a plea thistling in his throat. The room is as he remembers, faint moonling spilling from the large circular window onto the unmade bed, like liquid silver strands cast in a net of lucent and shadow.

A figure is lounged atop, head lowered, eyes intent on the task at hand - a glimmer of gold amidst ruffles of dried decay.He looks up and smiles at Jimin, pulling a lock of fallen hair back, stealing Jimin's breath in an instance.

"Sorry, I know I'm not supposed to be here..." Jimin whispers, worrying his lip between his teeth, but his steps unfalter, dragged by his heart towards Jungkook, towards solace, "... nowhere else to go to, nobody else..."

A sob finally breaches through, and Jimin frowns, waiting for the sting of reprimand, but it never comes. Jungkook sits up and pats on the spot next to him, gaze soft and gleaming, dripping of moonlight.

Jimin crawls into bed, feeling each movement draining the last bit of strength from within. He collapses just short of Jungkook, hair grazing by his thigh, hands fisting into the soft sheet, "Please, help me forget, help me get out of my head..."

"But the tea will do just that, you don't need me for it." Delicate fingers sweep through Jimin's hair, carefully, slowly, calming his wayward heartbeats.

The sob comes back, mixed in with small hiccups, making a mess of things, "can't - I can't do this. Not when he's gone again, not when I have nothing left."

 "He'll be back, he always does. Yoongi provides for all of us, and you know how obsessed he is of that mine..."

Jimin screws his eyes shut, "...thought I'd be enough for him, I gave him everything I had... more than enough for the rest of our lives... thought we'd be happy here in Allerdale, together..."

"And we are, love. You are here with me and Tae, and we'd keep you company until he's back. We could make you happy too, no?" The fingers card through his hair languidly, deeper, dragging on his skull and pushing a sigh out of him, "Here, lift your head, look what I made for you."

Jimin tilts his head, and see an oval shaped locket in the pale open palm. The golden surface is burnished, and within its cavity, a tiny Gardenia bud, dried and yellowed by the passage of time.

"Keep your eyes on it, look-" A huff of gentle air escapes Jungkook's lips as he inches towards the locket, and Jimin gasps when the flower shivers in response. His eyes starts to daze as the withered bud trembles and pulses, as if suddenly gifted with a heart of its own.

Something odd gnawing at his mind, how the flower seems to be rooted into the metal, or is it the other way around. Jimin shakes his head but feels drowsiness taking over, as his mind slowly wipes clean with the loosening of each delicate petal.

It's as if his mind is blooming with the tiny bud - trembling, shivering, as they all fade into the moonlight and become one.

Jungkook's voice echoes in the distance, "Poor little bird, why do you fret. You've already landed, already home."The shadow of a broken pheasant's wing flickers on his mind, as he sinks into the crimson darkness with a relieved sigh.

—

These two Crimson Peak snippets were written a few years apart. They follow a very similar structure, about two slightly different time frames in the same story. It's interesting for me to see them side by side to understand how my writing style had changed, and is still changing.