#jimin supernatural aau

[failaise]

past lives | park jimin

summary: reincarnation was sweet with the promise of immortal love

a/n: some mature themes; also, i’m sure this has been done before (i haven’t seen one for jimin), so if there are any similarities between this and another reincarnation fic, it’s purely coincidental!

based off close to you by the carpenter’s (reneé dominque cover)

That sweet scent of cream and cheese hung in the air, a daunting reminder of the hunger that settled in your stomach. You stood before an arrangement in a floral shop, suddenly overcome with a sudden desire to consume as many doughnuts as you could fit in your mouth. Eyeing the vivid violet carnations and its statue of Buddha which sat poised in the middle, you turned around to the worker and quickly bought a single carnation; it would look pretty in a vase by your apartment’s window. 

Stepping out onto the bustling street, you turned your eyes up to the lights beginning to flicker on. The sun’s absence sent fourth and sixth avenue into a Christmas-themed frenzy and you hugged your jacket close to your body, the flower hidden in your inside coat pocket. Tugging your beanie onto your head, you sniffed the air again for that delightful scent, and followed the direction from which a woman with a croissant had marched from. 

The shop stood like a beacon across the road. Its lights were bright and gold, sparkling like some kind of elaborate jewel. The name “Jordan’s Delights” was sprawled across the front in glittering cursive letters. Eager, you waited for the pedestrian symbol to flash on, and hurried in its wake. 

The line, surprisingly, wasn’t as long as you thought it might’ve been. Sure, it was out the door, but in New York that was to be expected. This shop had probably been featured on some Buzzfeed article, what with its doughnuts decorated in arrangements of cereal, candy, and anything else you could’ve been craving at the moment. Your stomach grumbled impatiently and you placed a hand on it, softly mumbling for it to shut up under your breath. 

The line moved and moved until you’d reached the front. Excitedly, you rattled off a dozen doughnuts for one of the shop’s classy gold boxes. As you handed your money to the cashier, who you hadn’t very much paid attention to, you found yourself admiring the purple emblem on the box. 

You finally looked up at whoever had been handling your quick, excited words. 

Staring back at you were the brownest eyes you’d ever seen. 

They were like chocolate, or coffee, or any other delicious thing colored the same. Framed in long, dark lashes, fluttering like butterflies against his skin. Soft, pink cheeks scrunched up; even pinker lips fell into a stunned daze at your presence. The man’s cocoa-colored hair looked perfectly touchable, slightly disheveled and rustled around his brows. He had what had to be the most flawless face structure in the entire world. 

He must’ve thought your staring was intrusive, because he didn’t speak, but just looked flabbergasted at the sight of you. 

“O-Oh,” you took your change from his palm. Your fingertips grazed his calloused ones, something like static sparking between them. You jerked your arm back quickly and shoved the money into your pocket. 

Swallowing, you forced yourself to look away from him. Box in hand, your booted feet practically ran for the door, hoping to dismiss the entire awkward situation (and the handsome man) for good. 

Standing at the cash register, the man gulped, eyes wide in shock. He could barely hear any more, and was suddenly aware of every pound on his body. Feet sinking into the blue-and-gold tile, he gripped the counter for fear of falling over. The customer before him said something but his ears weren’t working. His brain had become overwhelmed with flashbulb memories; smiles, laughter, those eyes, love, warmth. He could see the person before him, but not the person before him; you held his hand and he held yours. He could see those eyes of yours, glistening at him from across an aisle, veiled in white. Children- there’d been children. 

The person he’d spent his life searching for, trying to forget- you were here now, before him and unaware and just as beautiful as you’d been thirty years ago, all wrinkled and tired. 

“I-I.” the man looked up at the customer with saucers for eyes. He meant to apologize but the words wouldn’t form- and you were leaving, walking so fast down the sidewalk, turning into an alley, leaving him. He couldn’t wait another second. 

Running around from behind the counter, the apron around his hips came undone and Park Jimin ran after you. Puddles under his feet splashed up on the socks around his ankles, cold and alarming and he suddenly remembered he only had on a button up and dress pants. 

“Wait!” He found his voice again. Jimin stopped when he caught your attention, your back turned to traffic and confusion written across his face. “Wh-what’s your name?” 

He knew your name. No matter your face, your gender, your sex, your race- your name had never changed. 

You spoke it. And Jimin had been right. 

It was you. 

“I’m sorry,” you blushed furiously, eyes trying to avoid the sternness in his, “...do I know you?” 

Jimin’s cheeks had grown a bright pink now. The cold nipped at the tip of his nose and he tried to ignore winter’s bite. Taking a step forward, he blinked, admiring the shape of your lips, the color of your eyes. “Oh,” he breathed, voice heavy, “I... I suppose not.” 

You looked at him now. He seemed familiar, but you were sure this was the first time you were seeing this face- you’d have remembered if it had appeared beforehand. And it was curious to see how this man seemed saddened by the obvious knowledge that the two of you were strangers. His lips had curled downwards, eyes heavy with histories you couldn’t have known of. 

And Jimin had known that you wouldn’t know him- not if he knew you. It was the terrible past of this curse and blessing; one was born with the memories of centuries’ old love, and one was born with a mind slated blank. It was rare that the two of you were born with the knowledge of your past and maybe, just maybe, Jimin had been hoping that you knew him, too. 

“Is your favorite color still blue?” He suddenly asked. 

Your eyes grew wide with shock. “How.. did you know that?” 

Jimin was torn. Should he tell you, and risk scaring you for however many years? Or should he wait, let you fall in love with him all over again, and experience the hurt of your forgetfulness?

“I know a lot of things,” he replied, voice laced with sadness and somberness. 

“I’m sorry,” you frowned at him and turned on the heel of your shoe. He was handsome, unbearably so, but his oddness was becoming concerning and now you yourself had become concerned with getting home. He called after you but you looked away, hurrying for the streetlight. It flashed green and you took that as a sign, rushing into the road, but-

Coldness had overwhelmed you. You felt your head slam into the ground, something inside you snap, and an unbearable pain flood through your bones. Burning rubber and the sound of screeching tires filled your senses. Suddenly you were freezing, in the middle of a puddle on your side, unable to think or breathe. 

That stranger dropped to his knees before you, nearly slipping out of his haste to run after you. He skidded to a stop and, with eyes more painful than yours, hurried to find the source of your bleeding. 

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Jimin whispered, cradling your head in his lap. The rain was falling on him, soaking his hair and causing his shirt to cling to the texture off his skin. People were beginning to gather around you and he yelled for someone to call an ambulance. Apologies flooded in your direction, from whoever had been in the driver’s seat, but you were overcome with the knowledge of something else. 

You’d seen those chocolate eyes before. Concerned, like this. You could feel pain between your legs and comforting words and then- a baby’s cry. You could see these eyes hurrying into a restroom after your escapade with blades, full of the same pain they were in now. And then they were different- warm and happy, glistening over at you from a nearby pillow. They were above you, filled with lust, then in a kitchen, filled with anger and venomous words. 

You knew him, didn’t you? 

“It’s okay, shhh..... shhh,” he brushed your damp hair from your bleeding forehead, breath shaking and stopping when his fingers became colored with crimson. 

“I’m...” you tried to form the words, your tongue wet with burgundy. A cough cut you off and you wanted to apologize immediately for how your blood splattered his immaculate face, wanted to crawl up and cry from the tightness in your chest. 

“Please,” Jimin whimpered from above you, pulling your numb body closer to his side. “Please don’t go.” 

The sound of his voice like that tore your heart apart, more than any vehicle could. You swallowed the vomit in your throat and stared up at him. No matter how he’d returned to you, he was always breathtaking like this; always the spitting image of an angel. 

The Christmas lights began to blur around him. A halo of gold lit up his frame, outlining him in vividness, in a fog and haze resembling a glowing cloud. Your shaking fingers reached up to stroke his cheeks, soft and warm in this form, like pillows under the cradling nature of your palm. 

“I...” you smiled, which must’ve been a sight, what with your bloody teeth and torn lips, “I found you.” 

A choked sob escaped his throat. He dropped his head and held you close, tears streaming fast and hot down his face. “No,” Jimin whispered, a broken voice of hurt and pain, “I just found you.. I-I just got you back. W-We just m-” 

“I know,” you smiled softly up at him. The pain was gone, replaced with cold and a numbing sensation. 

Jimin let out another sob, a loud cry out into the sky, at whatever God or Gods had cursed the two of you to an eternity of search. 

That nagging want for sleep pulled at your eyes. You found them heavy, clinging to the image of your soulmate before you, analyzing every stroke of his hair, every curve of his jaw and every twitch in his lips. He was utterly beautiful with that halo of light; an angel shrouded in gold, with eyes full of more pain than any angel should have had to endure. 

“Don’t leave me,” he pleaded, pushing his hand onto your forehead, “p-please. The ambulance is-” 

“Park Jim-Jimin...” you reached up to cup his hand where it was, a tiny smile on your lips, and words unspoken yet spoken before. The name rolled of your bloodied tongue, caked your lips in that color of life. Those eyes that never changed, those eyes which sparkled at him in past laughter, which glittered with the promise of future love, those eyes which were filled with a warmth no fire could replace. 

Those eyes had gone dark, had fallen from Jimin’s face, and your body limp in his arms. 

It was then that Jimin saw your coat had torn open. In its pocket, a violet carnation, stained with shimmering crimson. 

A violet carnation. 

It was the first flower he’d ever plucked for you. 

a/n: i wanted to do this so i did and now im sad