"Nice gun," she said, smiling back at the man in front of her.
"I'm going to shoot you now," he plainly announced, unclasping the safety lock.
When you have superpowers you don't necessarily become a superhero. At least, even with all her capabiliti...
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A while ago, somewhere in New York
Usually, the people Taehyung killed were businessmen in their forties. They had beer bellies and back hair, they smelled like cigarette and sweat, and their cheeks were flabby.
Jimin was the exact opposite of those men. He was fit and looked like he worked out a lot. His body was toned, his leg and arm muscles looking like they were carved in marble. Taehyung couldn't help himself but recognize Jimin looked rather good.
However, his chest was covered with thin crescent-shaped scars, each one white, a few inches long and engraved in the skin of his pecs, abs and back. He also had longer, deeper-looking scars on his thighs, long vertical parallel ones that were pinkish against his golden skin.
"So... are you done thirsting over my hot body?" Jimin asked.
Taehyung raised an eyebrow.
"Don't get cocky. I'm the one with the knife."
Somehow, Taehyung was starting to respect Jimin. He was odd and humorous, and seemed rather unafraid of him, which were all points in his favor in Taehyung's book.
"Are you going to hurt me now?" he asked, almost flirty.
"Depends on you... are you going to tell me if you really repeated a private confidential conversation to an enemy of the state?"
Jimin narrowed his eyes.
"Let me think about it."
Taehyung shrugged.
"I bet this will help you think."
He grasped his knife and kneeled down beside Jimin, letting the tip of the blade run along the skin of his thigh, following the path of a scar. The delicate skin ripped, letting blood gush out of it, so red as it flowed down Jimin's thigh and on the plastic cover.
Jimin didn't react at all, keeping a blank face.
Taehyung, rather surprise by his lack of response, pressed the knife harder, drawing another parallel line with the blade, this time going a lot deeper, enough to reach the bone underneath.
Meanwhile, Jimin looked at the ceiling with a bored expression.
"Can you even feel pain?" asked Taehyung, confused.
"Yes, I do," he plainly explained, "I just process it differently, I think. Torturing me won't work."
Just to make sure, Taehyung gripped his injured thigh and started to squeeze the bleeding flesh, sinking his gloved fingers inside of the wound and wiggling them around. He knew that the sensation must be absolutely agonizing but Jimin didn't even wince, his face expressionless as he looked back at Taehyung, his lower body know completely smeared with blood.
