why do I love writing angsty stuff so much save me
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The idea of having a soulmate can be comforting to many. The knowledge that there's somebody out there that's destined to love them can calm worries. Letting them know that they won't live their lives out alone, because it's fated for them to meet someone.
You can't beat fate, can you?
But what if, the saying 'Your pain is mine' gets taken literally? What if every single injury you sustain will immediately be transferred onto your soulmate? Would you tiptoe around your everyday life so that you wouldn't hurt them?
What would you do if they hurt you?
What would you do, if they were suicidal?
Park Jimin still doesn't know the answer to that, although he had sustained multitudes of injuries from his soulmate. Dozens of scars that littered his thighs that he didn't create. Sleepless nights as he would writhe in pain from wounds that were appearing into his unmarked skin. Tear stained cheeks as he would try not to wake up his roommate, whispering an almost silent 'please stop' into the air as the flesh of his legs felt like it had been lit on fire.
And he still doesn't know what to do.
He's still terrified, that one day he'll go to bed, and his soulmate will decide that it's time to end it all.
Because if his soulmate does that, it's lights out for Jimin as well.
-
"I don't want a soulmate anymore Hyung."
Jimin stood in front of the full length mirror in the shared dorm he lived in. His torso donned a sweater, lower half covered by nothing but his underwear. His expression hardened as it dropped to his thighs, observing the ugly scars that adorned them. He brought his hand down, biting his lip as his fingers grazed the damaged flesh. "I think I'd rather know I'd never end up with someone instead of living in pain."
"Maybe they don't know about how the whole soulmate thing works?" His roommate Yoongi asked, sitting up in bed and sighing once he gazed upon Jimin's injuries. The scars stopped about mid thigh, but disappeared underneath the fabric of Jimin's underwear. The younger had told him that they extend up to his hip as well.
"That's bullshit and you know it Hyung." Jimin sighed, wincing as he came in contact with a fresher injury, one that only appeared the night before. "Everyone knows. If their parents don't tell them, their friends do. If their friends don't, they'll overhear it from someone they might not even know."
"Maybe-"
"They know what they're doing. I just think that they don't care." Jimin closed his eyes, hating looking at the sight of his own skin. "They don't care what they're putting me through, because they're hurting and all that matters is that they make themselves feel better." He turned away from the mirror, quickly walking over to his closet.
"My soulmate hurts me too sometimes.." Yoongi mumbled, trying to lighten the atmosphere. "They must be a major clutz, I've gotten so many bruises from them."
Jimin shook his head, picking out a pair of jeans.
"I'd take that over what I have any day." Jimin mumbled, tugged the fabric of the jeans over his legs. "I'm scared that they're going to kill me one day Yoongi-Hyung."
Yoongi worried his bottom lip, watching as Jimin shoved a pack of pencil crayons into the bag that sat on his nightside table.
"I'm sure they wouldn't go that far, if they know about the soulmate dilemma then they know the consequences of killing yourself." He spoke, Jimin shrugging and wrapping up his paintbrushes before stuffing them in his bag as well.
"Oh, they must know." Jimin nodded. "I just don't know if that would be on their mind in their final moments." He checked his watch and sighed. "I have to get to class."
"Alright." Yoongi nodded. Standing up and brushing off his pants. "What time do you get out again? We could go out for lunch when you're done."
Jimin smiled, nodding as he slung his bag over his shoulder.
"I'm done at 12:30, meet me at the usual place at 1:00?" He asked, opening the front door and waiting for Yoongi's response before he left.
"Will do." The older grinned. "Have fun in class!"
Jimin couldn't help but roll his eyes.
"I always do." He smiled, closing the door behind him as he left. It was a fairly chilly fall day, but Jimin couldn't say that he minded it. The leaves rustled in the trees, winds blowing them about and ripping them from their branches. His class was only five minutes away, some cold temperatures weren't bothersome.
He was around two minutes into his walk when he felt it. The pain that nearly made him drop his phone onto the pavement below. And he was in public, so all he could do was close his eyes for a moment and fight back tears as a searing pain rippled out from his thigh. He could basically feel his skin tearing apart, taking a few laboured breaths before he opened his eyes once more. His vision was blurred with tears, the pain not going away and only increasing as he tried to continue walking.
Usually, injuries would only occur during the night, but recently there seemed to be no set time. Jimin could be in the middle of lunch when something like this happened.
Some times were worse than others, and as Jimin stood on his campus that morning, he was positive that this was the most pain he had ever felt in his life. His leg felt numb, the burning feeling not letting up as Jimin tried to make his way to class, basically dragging his leg behind him. He let his tears fall, sniffling into the palms of his hands as he took a moment to recollect himself.
It just hurt so much.
He wondered if he was bleeding, he was sure he could feel it as he limped to his class. He thought that he might get a break today, because of the injury from the night before.
Apparently not.
He wiped at his eyes before opening the door, grateful as he began to feel the pain dissipate. Much like it always did, it hurt so badly for a limited amount of time, before fading away quickly and settling down to a slight throb. He remembers showing his friend who was majoring in medical studies, and she said that they were definitely burns.
His soulmate was burning themself.
Jimin sighed, trying to ignore the throbbing in his leg as he limped the rest of the way to his class. He was working on an important project today, he couldn't let this mishap slow him down. He'd excuse himself and clean up the wound in the bathroom later, but he needed to get started on his class work.
He walked into the classroom, sending a nod in his professor's direction before making his way to his station, setting up his easel and placing the canvas on it.
It was times like these that Jimin loved being an art major. All the pain he felt during the night and day, all of the tears he would shed; he could shed them off and smear them across the canvas. He could coat the canvas in his his own despair and walk away with a spring in his step.
He wasn't forgetting what he felt, he was just transferring his emotions into something else.
When he looked back at his old pieces, they all came rushing back.
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