writetomyheart | [TEAM SONIC] High C

Restarting Sonic because where did we all go?

Music is Gold by Kiiara. Prompt is from here (because I cannot STOP) ((I'm sorry Frances))

It is morning. It is also cold. The season of holiday gift giving is soon arriving and Jeongguk holds a parcel in his mittened hands with sentiment. It is a well thought out and chosen gift.

Snow falls from the sky. Formed in the crystals of water vapor from clouds hundreds of feet above him, drifting through the air at a reasonable speed so they don’t smash through his skull. Yet, as usual, Jeongguk does not appreciate this.

Ungrateful brat, says Nature.

Jimin is sitting at his desk. He wears a festive holiday sweater. It is bright violent red. There is red everywhere. His bed is red, his tongue is red, the markers on his desk are red. It is the color of life.

Jeongguk is wearing a red scarf and takes it off when he walks into Jimin’s apartment from the cold hallway.

“Merry Christmas,” Jeongguk says and smiles. The tip of his nose is cold, probably also red. Jimin’s tongue is red when he wets his lips. “I got you something.”

“Is it coupons?” Jimin asks him. On the windows are cut out snowflakes from paper, taped up against the glass. They are much larger than the snow falling outside.

“No,” Jeongguk says, holding out his gift parcel with his mittened hands.

“What is it?” Jimin asks.

“You have to open it to find out,” Jeongguk says, then to make sure Jimin doesn’t know about his growing affections for him and therefore accurately assume Jeongguk has a crush on him, Jeongguk adds, “ dumbass.”

Jimin accepts the parcel with a smile made of teeth and spit, shining brilliantly despite the shitty light in his apartment. “You’re so sweet, kookie.”

“Just open it,” Jeongguk says, watching as Jimin walks over to his desk to get a scissors to destroy the flimsy plastic covering the package. The plastic is no match for Jimin’s slashing skills, and Jeongguk watches in fascination as Jimin rips apart the paper and plastic to reveal the vulnerable raw gift beneath.

“CALENDAR!” Jimin caws in delight.

“So you don’t forget important things,” Jeongguk explains helpfully. “Like birthdays, or things you have to do. Appointments or schedules or important events, you know. Adult things.”

Jimin nods along, listening to him as he reaches for one of the red markers, the sharpies lining his desk, red and red and red. The flow of crimson making Jeongguk’s heart pulse crimson blood through him, keeping him alive. Such life.

“Important things I should remember,” Jimin nods, spinning the red marker in his fingers, fire in his fingers. “Right.” He opens the calendar, grips the pen cap between the exposed sharp eating bones in his mouth and wrenches the plastic covering off. Jeongguk watches as his hand scrawls in drastic letters across the month of January the most important thing to him.

SINNING

The page turns. SINNING become the month of February. The page turns again. The calendar is nice pictures of illustrated puppies. Jimin likes dogs, he’s a dog person. That’s why Jeongguk got him as many pictures of puppies for every month. Just so he’d smile.

March’s primary objective becomes ’SINNING’ as Jimin spits out the red cap from between his teeth. April becomes SINNING and Jimin’s smile widens.

May is SINNING, then June, July, August. September becomes SINNING!!!!!!!!!!! and Jeongguk watches as Jimin transforms his entire new year into red dramatic depravation.

It is beautiful.

Jimin places his completed calendar of sin on his desk, replacing the cap to his sharpie before he turns to Jeongguk.

“Thank you,” Jimin says.

“There are only five days left of this month,” Jeongguk says, watching Jimin’s eyes flicker and bleed color. Everything is red, the sharpies on the desk, the SINNING through all of next year, the covers on Jimin’s bed, the scarf around Jeongguk’s neck that now lies on the floor. The ring that surrounds Jimin’s pupils is bright red, deep red, scarlet crimson blood that glows with the fire that makes Jimin Jeongguk’s sun. “What are you going to do for them?”

Jimin smiles wider, the exposed bones in his mouth flashing brilliant white as the ends of his hair flicker with fire. “What do you think?” he asks.

“You’re right,” Jeongguk says, eyes drifting to the snowflakes falling outside. “The white of the world is too tempting of a canvas. We should go give it some color.” Jeongguk feels warm, so warm as Jimin watches him, the calendar on his wall showing the month of December marked black with the word DESTRUCTION. “What color do you want to make it?”

Jimin inhales deeply and opens his mouth. He sings a perfectly sustained high C and Jeongguk’s teeth shatter in his mouth.

What a wonderful world.