Chapter Text
The first thing Jimin hears when he wakes up is yelling. It’s something he’s used to, along with the sound of a slamming door as someone leaves the house. He sighs as he pulls himself from the warmth of his covers, wincing as the bandage on his cheek pulls and sore muscles contract. Making his way to the bathroom, he turns on the shower, looking in the mirror as steam slowly fills the room. It’s not that he’s disgusted with himself, it’s just that he’s disgusted with what his life has turned out to be. Seventeen years of disappointment. Peeling off the now nasty looking gauze from the side of his face, he grimaces as it gets caught on dry blood, tears prickling his eyes.
**
Last night had not been a good night. He had tried to quietly sneak past his father to get a drink of water from the kitchen. Halfway there, however, he failed to notice the sounds of soft footsteps following him. Making it to the kitchen, he filled the glass he retrieved from the cabinet with some sink water and took a sip, turning to lean against the counter. He was startled when light suddenly flooded the room. Glass slipping from his fingers, he made a last minute attempt to save it from falling but failed. Wincing at the loud sound it made, he stood, staring horrified at the shattered glass on the ground. He looked up only when the sound of a clearing throat caught his attention. At the doorway stood his father’s girlfriend, a woman who has had it out for him since the day she first stepped foot in the house, wearing nothing but the lingerie that he was sure his father had bought with the money Jimin had earned. The money that was supposed to go towards that week’s groceries.
The smirk on her face said more than words ever would. Jimin opened his mouth, despite having no words to say, but quickly shut it when the sound of the bedroom door being thrown open reached his ears. Fear quickly settling in his gut, his mind was telling him to run, escape, but his body stayed stubbornly locked in place. Footsteps quickly approached the kitchen, along with the sound of sleepy cursing. Jimin was in the middle of convincing his body to make a run for it when he saw his father step through the doorway.
“What the fuck are you doing at 1 am, boy?” The man said as he took a step toward Jimin. Giving in to his instincts, Jimin tried to make a run for it, but his father snagged his arm as he tried to slip past. Jimin flinched and shrunk in on himself as his father roughly shook him.
**
Jimin looks down at his arm in the mirror, examining the dark finger-shaped bruises.
**
“I asked you what the fuck you were doing out of your room so late, and what you were making so much noise for.” His father had asked, tone threatening, as he pushed Jimin against the wall. White noise had flooded Jimin’s ears as his head hit the doorframe, but no words came out. He faintly heard what sounded like a chuckle and turned his head to look at the woman still standing in the kitchen. She smirked down at Jimin, the height difference only noticeable with her so close, as she was almost the same height as his father, both decently taller than himself. She pointed toward the shattered glass when she saw the attention was on her. The glass had made a small dent in the old wooden flooring, and water was spreading out further by the second. Jimin dared to look up at his father’s face, but upon seeing it darken considerably at the sight of the mess, he renewed his struggles to escape the iron grasp.
“Water? That’s what you woke us up for? Piece of shit.” His dad said in a voice calmer than his expression seemed to portray. Jimin’s tense shoulder slackened some with the slight sound of dismissal in the man’s voice, but he was unprepared when the strong grip on his arm threw him off balance and into the floor, a large shard of glass embedding itself into his cheek. “Clean it up,” was all that was said before the man left the room, followed by the woman who was seemingly disappointed at the lack of violence.
**
Jimin lifts a hand to run along the gash on his cheek, some dried blood flaking off. Shaking his head, Jimin steps into the shower, hot water stinging his skin as he tried to wash away the sweat and tears that had accumulated overnight. One more injury wasn’t going to matter, not when he was covered with bruises and cuts on any other day of the week as well.
That morning, after Jimin leaves the house, not running into anyone much to his relief, he makes his way to his part time job. Having just graduated high school a few weeks earlier, he is attempting to find other forms of employment since his dreams of college have long been destroyed.
His life is monotonous. Wake up, go to work, maybe get something to eat if he’s lucky, look for another job, get home just before everyone else, and lock himself in his room. It’s been the same way since school ended, none of his friends bothered to stay in touch, he feels more alone than ever. It’s said that everyone in the world has one match out there somewhere, but Jimin’s starting to doubt that. Already being seventeen, and not even having a hint at who his soulmate could be, he’s slowly losing hope at having anyone in the world. His parents were lucky enough to have found each other, as not everyone can find their true match, and his father had thought of himself as the luckiest man in the world. That was until she had died giving birth to Jimin of course.
Soulmates can never be fully described by science. There is a connection, unwavering and intimate, that all soulmates share. It’s a bond that lets you monitor your other half, to make sure they are happy and alive, but it doesn’t become strong enough to the point that you can feel it until around your 20th birthday. Distance can affect how early you feel it. The closer to your soulmate you are the more likely you will start to feel the bond strengthen, especially if you’re older. You’ll be able to feel your soul mate. Emotions, pain, fears, it doesn’t have an off or on switch so it could hit you at any time of the day. The stronger the emotion, the more your soulmate can feel. Jimin just hopes his soulmate is far, far away, or that his soulmate is younger than he is, that way maybe Jimin can get out of this before his soulmate’s bond reaches out to him. The biggest achievement for soulmates, however, is the first contact. The first time you come in contact with your soulmate, leaving no trace of doubt behind, their initials will be imprinted onto the others wrist.
Jimin has mixed feelings about soulmates. He doesn’t want to drag anyone into his life, doesn’t want to disappoint someone for being the failure that he is. Doesn’t want to ruin someone’s future. But he wants to be saved, he wants a way out.
The next morning Jimin wakes up with more bruises decorating his body, and a handprint still on his cheek.