park jimin longs for change and for what lies beyond his polluted, murky sky.
ㅁㅁㅁㅁㅁㅁㅁㅁㅁㅁㅁㅁㅁㅁㅁㅁㅁㅁㅁ
herein lies jimin's adventures among a starship, gloss, capturing criminals with his newfound bounty hunter acquaintances and finding love in a man he...
Ups! Gambar ini tidak mengikuti Pedoman Konten kami. Untuk melanjutkan publikasi, hapuslah gambar ini atau unggah gambar lain.
PROXIMA PROXIMA DESERT CIRCA 6018
Strawberries, cherries, and an angel's kiss in spring—graffiti etched across a building in reflective paint, the letters catching fragments of Jimin's face. His first mission off of house arrest was a petty theft fiend recently spotted on the sandy terrain of Proxima.
Jimin wasn't involved in the retrieval of the criminal, rather he was left on the base site with Namjoon. He wasn't particularly sure of why he couldn't tag along with the crew—Taehyung got to go. Jimin certainly wasn't pouting. Seokjin told him petulance was unbecoming. Still, he was stood in the same spot for over ten minutes since the search crew ventured off, and the dry air was beginning to suck the moisture from his lungs.
The continent they were on wasn't very big, but it was mostly desert land. All around them was fine, sandy particles and berating, unrelenting sun. He had a mask securing his nose and mouth that tied in a double knot at the back of his head. His shoes were clunky and big to accommodate for the terrain, his shirt sleeveless, and his shorts airy. And even with the minimal clothing he had on, he was still very hot, so his hair was put up into a makeshift bun at the top of his head.
They were on the outskirts of the city, the destitute town empty and devoid of life. Buildings appeared to be abandoned and stores were unopened. Between Jimin and Namjoon, the only sound that could be heard was the sand moving under their feet with every shift of movement.
Jimin didn't know how to be alone with people. But he especially didn't know how to be alone with Namjoon. Their last, actual encounter had been somewhat of a shit show. Namjoon had been so angry and Jimin had almost hit him. He thinks the tension between them made sense. Jimin felt somewhat prideful, but he understood Namjoon's authority, and the nagging thought to apologize wouldn't leave him.
Jimin worked his jaw as he thought, feeling the silence like restraints on his wrists. Jimin understands Namjoon's authority over him. He does. He understands the rank the older man holds and the power it gives him. It's been months since being on the ship, but it's still such a new concept to have someone above you the way Namjoon is above Jimin. It isn't like the guards and soldiers on Earth; Jimin doesn't feel helpless towards it. It's a matter of having someone to answer to. Jimin never needed that before, because the only person he had to answer to, essentially, was himself. Now, he's part of this thing run by extrinsic motivation, and he isn't sure if he's still allowed to not feel faulted for his confusion.
And while he's come to terms with everything, he had no doubt that if Namjoon were to inch any closer, Jimin would have hit him without a second thought. His fist clenched out of reflex and a sour smirk curled the left side of his lip. He truly wishes he could have been anywhere but with Namjoon. Staying in the bridge with Hoseok or leaving to the capitol with Seokjin to discuss legalities with the city leaders. Hell, even being in the engine rooms would beat being stuck in awkward, stunted silence with the captain he nearly disrespected.
