the colours of the world (i see them in your eyes)

— 방탄소년단  //  윤민 —

-

the first time jimin sees colours, it is when min yoongi of abnegation upbringing jumps straight off the ledge leading to dauntless’ compound. there are dozens, maybe a hundred, even, eager dauntless initiates this year. maybe half of them are dauntless-born, maybe more. but of all the teenagers from all the factions, it is min yoongi that jumps first. min yoongi with his soft black hair that falls over his eyes, his oversized clothing and quiet but rough voice. he doesn’t speak, doesn’t acknowledge it. he simply pushes past the packed crowd, squirms to the front where he gives the faction leader a small nod, and then he jumps.

it is then, for the first time in jimin’s fifteen years of living, that colours finally enter his life. swirls of azure seep into the sky, and the light grey tinge of the people around him morph into a multitude of shades; the amity-born initiates sporting bright reds and yellows that he had only ever dreamt of, the erudites with different shades of blue. jimin has a chance, just before yoongi disappears into the blackness, to see the subtle red flush of the grey-clad boy’s cheeks, rosy and warm. and even if he has only seen colours for a few moments, jimin thinks it is the most beautiful colour he will ever see.

before jimin’s mind has caught up fully with his body, he has pushed to the front of the mass of teenagers, looking at the faction leader for a few moments before stepping off the ledge after yoongi. he lands on a net, the shock making his entire body jolt, and there is cheering from all around him as he is helped off the landing but it’s all soft and muted to him. all he sees is the colours, swirls of red and blue and purple surrounding him. the red detailing of the tattoo that stretches across one of the faction leader’s bicep, the green streaks in the hair of another, the yellow glow that the overhead lights cast over the room. and then his eyes fall on him, with his grey clothing and almost-too-long hair, and all the colours are dull again. he sees pink and blue and orange and all the shades at once, and even with his pale skin and dull monotone clothing, min yoongi is the brightest, the most vibrant. he stares, ears ringing, and watches those pink lips move, until he realises yoongi is looking at him, is talking to him.

“-hey. hey. are you okay?” he is saying concernedly, eyebrows raising animatedly. his voice is a rich purple, velvety but with a scratchy undertone. jimin nods mutely, sparing him one last glance before he turns away. jimin fears that if he doesn’t tear his eyes away now, he won’t be able to at all.

jimin ends up sitting next to yoongi at dinner that night, much to the dauntless-born boy’s inner conflict. he stays silent, eating robotically.

chew. swallow. sip. don’t look at him. chew. swallow. don’t look at him.

and despite all his internal struggles, his eyes are still somehow drawn to the frail boy beside him, watching with an expression bordering on amusement as the black-haired boy pokes at his bread pitifully. jimin lasts a whole five seconds before he slumps and leans over to nudge yoongi gently.

“you put together a sandwich out of it, don’t eat the bread plain,” he mutters, holding his own assembled sandwich up in emphasis. yoongi blinks those soft brown eyes at him for a few moments, in which jimin feels his heart pound against his chest, struggling to break free, and he wonders, can you see them too?

but then yoongi nods in understanding, whispering a soft thank you before turning back to his plate, a sheepish expression on his face as he shyly reaches for a slice of lettuce. and again, despite his inner reprimand, jimin finds himself falling deeper.

over training, jimin becomes closer to yoongi than he would like, or to be more truthful, more than he thinks is safe. even when wearing all black, with his onyx hair covering his eyes and head bowed, yoongi is more radiant than anything that jimin has ever seen in all his time at dauntless. unknowingly, they grow to be friends. it is unspoken, there is no one to say it, but it hangs in the air. without anyone drawing that line, they go from being jimin and yoongi to being jimin and yoongi. it is one of the many nights where they sit on one of the rocks at the bottom of the chasm, that jimin finally allows himself to ask.

“h-hyung,” he mutters, swallowing thickly, and yoongi hums in response.

“d-do you see them?” he asks softly, barely holding himself back from adding a too at the end.

“see what?” yoongi asks with that velvet tone again, and jimin’s breath catches in his throat.

“see the- the colours.” and for that one crucial moment, the crashing of the water dies down in jimin’s ears, and the image of yoongi’s lashes fluttering against the apple of his cheeks sharpens. and he just wishes, he wishes so, so much—

“of course not, jimin-ie. you have to fall in love for that to happen, don’t you think I would’ve told you if i had?”

yoongi is chuckling as he rocks his body sideways into jimin’s playfully, but jimin simply lets himself sway, ears ringing and mouth dry. his mouth opens, before he closes it again. there is a dull ache in his chest, and unconsciously his hand rises to grip at the fabric of his shirt where his heart is.

“why, can you see them or something? finally found that special someone? what’s her name?” the black haired boy teases, and jimin coughs softly, hand in the fabric until his knuckles turn white. the colours have dimmed around him, and the ache in his chest sharpens.

“n-no. no, hyung. i was just wondering.” he chokes out, forcing out a dry laugh. his hand doesn’t move from where it is clenching in his shirt, and the back of his eyes sting. he can feel yoongi’s soft eyes on him again, that chocolate brown that jimin once would have leapt to see, but now he turns away slightly, eyes flickering and chest aching.

that night, he sneaks out to get a tattoo. it is simple, a silhouette of a butterfly, small against the thin skin of his inner wrist. the creature, in its frailty and beauty, reminds him of a boy. a boy with black hair and chocolate eyes. a boy with a velvet voice and the colours of the rainbow in his smile. jimin’s heart aches.

the days pass quickly after that, with jimin swallowing his words, his pain when he sees yoongi smiling at him at training, linking an arm with his. and he thinks, as much as it hurts, as hard as it is, it’s just worth it seeing that pink gummy smile, those mocha eyes. it’s just worth it.