there’s something sickeningly satisfying about the feeling of a fist connecting with his jaw; a painfully sweet thrill sending shivers down his spine. he can’t help the ragged laugh that escapes him when jimin’s blows land, a smirk pulling the edges of his lips up. this is the shit he lives for, the kinda thing that keeps him getting out of bed every day. cheap thrills, maybe, but god does that metal tang of blood in his mouth taste good.
“oh, hitting heavy today are we?” alpha coos, tongue laving along his bottom lip. “what, did i strike a nerve this time? are you still as sore of a loser as ever, jiminnie?”
his taunting earns him exactly what he wants- aggression. he’s tired of soley being looked at with fear when he fights, and jimin’s eyes sparkle with something far more dangerous, the look of a predator, not prey. he doesn’t want to be treated like he’s breakable, like he’s worth more than he is. and jimin, bless his soul, never fails to deliver.
for all jimin always plays like he’s sweet, like he’s innocent and unassuming with humans, with anyone- alpha knows the truth. he knows the anger that lurks, carefully waiting under the surface. and so he’ll taunt and tempt, stroking the fire until jimin’s temper gets the better of him and he’s indulging alpha in his masochistic tendencies.
of course, that also means that alpha gets to hit without fear, gets to swing and know that whatever he hits, however he hits, is fair game. they’ve got an interesting arrangement, the two of them. something like a rivalry, something like a mutual penchant for pain. it’s so good though- god alpha feels as though he’s soaring when jimin’s bikaku slams into his gut, rips a ragged groan from his throat.
“fuck,” he laughs out, panting hard and heavy through his mouth as he staggers to his feet.
man, jimin looks gorgeous like this, wearing a mixture of blood and sweat on his skin, fleeting bruises and cuts creating and recreating art over and over. a perfect canvas.
so when they go tumbling to the ground, as they always do, alpha takes a moment to admire the way jimin looks above him, chest heaving, eyes blown with anger, with something that pushes alpha closer and closer to temptation (and he always, always gives in). he watches, teeth glinting in the dusky lighting, tilts his head and gives a quirk of his eyebrow, challenging. and then, he hooks his leg around jimin’s thigh, grips tightly at his arms and flips them.
maybe he slams jimin down just a little bit harder than he’d needed to, maybe he just wanted to hear the rough, forced exhale when jimin’s back hit the ground. the pain mixed with pleasure that drips like honey from jimin’s breaths is better, sweeter than any alcohol, than any drug.
“you,” alpha’s voice is huskier than before, the beginnings of something near animalistic roughening the edges. “you look so fucking good like this. you’re almost too pretty.”
he pauses then, takes care to push jimin’s bloodied shirt up his body, admiring the temporarily marred skin below. he almost wishes that they didn’t heal quite as fast as they did, if for no other reason than to make jimin wear his marks that much longer.
alpha kisses down jimin’s neck, his chest, down to his stomach and sucks hard on the muscled skin there. he relishes in the sounds jimin makes, the jump of touch sensitive muscles under his teeth, lips, tongue as he maps out constellations on the soft skin.
ahreum was drawn to the shop per usual with the several flowers hidden inside her bag in all sorts of colors. she always felt as though she was missing something quite special as she stands there by herself in the midst of the potted flowers. they weren’t just there for show but for admiration because weren’t flowers also a symbolism for one’s own feelings? then again her feelings were difficult to understand, to her and everyone else simply because she could never control them. they were violent, impulsive and uncontrollable with no way to keep them at ease.
she would think back of the old feelings she had in the past. she remembers anger and destruction, disappointment and resentment, being content but not always happy. when she felt the slightly bit of resentment and uncertainty, anxiety… those feelings were the ones she hated the most and especially when those feelings were paired with people of the past. ahreum remembers their names and she remembers their faces when her vision momentarily blurs for a quick moment but she forces herself to forget and they disappear.
she was desperate to figure out her lingering feelings, those spots of resentment while she’s filled with many other questions. ahreum didn’t want to stress herself out so she stops thinking altogether. she plucks another flower, making sure no one was watching her and slipping it into her bag because she liked the color. but the moment she walks out, she sees him. she spots a familiar face whom could only appear in her dreams but she didn’t expect this, him in the flesh.
