The Angel with Black Hair

Chapter 9: Kiss The Devil

"And it feels like Heaven when I kiss the Devil." ~Bel Heir

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That stormy morning, Jimin was lying on the green, soft grass alone, waiting for the rain to come. Angry, dark clouds were floating in the sky, passing past above him in a rush. The smell of wetness in the air had him breathing slowly and contentedly with his eyes closed and his body utterly relaxed and spread across the grassed bed of the meadow. 

The meadow in where he and Jungkook had first met.

It had been a sunny day back then.

But now the sky was about to cry.

And Jimin wanted to feel the cool teardrops against his skin.

Actually, Jimin needed those teardrops to camouflage his welling own. 

Rainy days to Jimin were holding memories of happy times with his family, a family to which he could no longer return. Jimin had tried to find comfort in the thought of Jungkook, that he had now him as his family. But it was not enough, it was not the same. 

Αt least it wasn't that day.

A sudden gust of wind blew, making Jimin roll over to his side towards it, already knowing what it meant.

Jungkook.

Jimin had felt the restlessness in him before anything else.

The wind stopped, and Jimin instantly opened his eyes to the sight of Jungkook's bare feet have completely burned the grass beneath.

Slowly, Jimin sat up, his gaze traveling up to meet Jungkook's eyes but stopping when realizing Jungkook's black trousers were his only clothes. 

Any other moment and Jimin would've shied away from the fact that Jungkook's chest was exposed in front of him in all its naked glory.

But Jimin couldn't focus on anything else than the wave of guilt that had washed over him when his eyes eventually met with Jungkook's worried, blood-red ones. Jimin imagined Jungkook waking up alone to an empty bed and then panicking over his absence in their home.

That feeling of guilt though didn't last long. Something else in Jungkook caught Jimin's attention, instantly turning his guilt to awe.

Jimin was on his feet, moving over to Jungkook while on autopilot, his eyes wide and stunned, his mouth curved into a perfect 'o'. The explanation for Jungkook missing a shirt was spread out at the end of Jimin's line of sight, extended in both Jungkook's sides, numerous meters long, there they were, the Devil's midnight black wings.

For Jimin, it was the first time seeing them. So, when taking a halt right before Jungkook's towering stature, Jimin's hands itched like crazy to reach and touch.

"Don't." The Devil warned, stilling Jimin's hand midway up to his right wing. The wing moved back and away, further out of Jimin's reach, glistening silvery as it did, like millions of blades when reflecting light.

"They're not meant to be petted. They're sharp." Jungkook explained moments later when he had kissed every knuckle from the extending hand of Jimin's, softly as if wanting to erase the hurt expression of the latter with each kiss. "We don't want for those pretty, little fingers to get cut off now, do we?"

"I'm sorry," Jimin apologized, for some reason in the verge of bursting into tears.

"No, no, no," Jungkook traded the small hand of Jimin's for his cheek, starting caressing it repeatedly and lovingly. "Why-.."