#seriously the stares intently at page stares intently into the camera is sending me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

starryeyedkoo · 5 years

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Genre: badboy!au, gang!au, college!au, angst!!, fluff

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Warnings: mature language, alcohol use (including mention of underage drinking which i do not condone), violence, minor character death, brief mention of addiction, tsundere jungkook, (cheesy) angst around every. corner. (seriously it never stops i’m sorry)

Word Count: 22.9k (here we go again i’m so sorry)

“Do you regret it?” “What?” “Falling in love with me? It feels like I only weigh you down.” “I’ll let you pull me down to the depths of hell if that’s what it means to love you.”

a/n: this story is just cliche after cliche… because i’m a hoe for cliches, so hopefully it’s not too much hehe. this fic was really self-indulgent and dramatic so be warned !! also this fic was inspired by the dialogue i wrote above (which actually didn’t even make it into the story) and these songs: Harder by Oliver Riot and Someone to Stay by Vancouver Sleep Clinic

You tapped the end of your pencil on the surface of the desk you sat at in an attempt to keep your eyes from drooping shut while you worked on the last few problems of your Statistics test. Your ears zeroed in on every sound present in the room, including the flipping of a page coming from behind you, the sniffling from the boy across the room that has been a persistent provocation for the last hour and a half, and also the boy sitting a seat away from you who huffed out a breath and sent you an irritated glance. You pursed your lips and quickly steadied the grasp of your pencil before it became an even bigger annoyance to him.

After what felt like an excruciatingly long hour and a half, you had finally made it to the end of your test with each problem filled out and just a few seconds to spare. Once time was called, you were quick to make your way to turn in your packet and then you turned straight towards the exit. Just as you were only a few meager steps in front of the professor’s desk, he called you over asking if he could speak with you. “Ms. _____, how was the test?” You stopped short, a little confused as to why he had stopped you from walking straight out of there. Before you could produce an easy answer to quickly end the conversation, he interrupted you, “Please feel free to let me know if you need some extra help. I know statistics isn’t easy, so I understand if you’re struggling a bit.”

Your brows drew together in confusion and you glanced around the room at the last lucky students making their way out before you could, each of them dropping their test packets on the corner of his desk and turning the other way. “What makes you think I need help?” You flashed a pleasant smile to maintain respect towards your teacher.

“Well, as I’m sure you know, the curriculum of our university is especially challenging, and I know it may be a bit of a strain for you,” he offered, gesturing towards you in what you were sure was of a demeaning nature.

The smile melted off your face and you found it difficult to keep your lips from turning down in disbelief. “It’s not too different from anything I’ve had to do before.”

“Is that so?” your professor inquired with a doubtful smirk creeping onto his face, and that had been the last straw.

“Actually,” you corrected, suddenly feeling brave and bold enough to defend yourself, “I believe my private high school’s rigor was much more difficult to tolerate than this, but thank you for your concern.” Your false thankfulness did not extend to your facial features, lips turned into a scowl. “Believe it or not, sir, I made it into this university through hard work, not just connections and thick stacks of cash.” You slammed your test paper down onto his desk, making daring eye contact with him for only a moment before turning to take your leave. “Have a nice day,” you bid him sarcastically, striding out the exit.

As soon as you were far enough to overcome the blinding frustration you had just unleashed, you quickly realized you would most likely regret giving your teacher that attitude, but honestly, he deserved it. Screw him.

After anger came the frustration that you had been facing since you enrolled in this university that had been beating down on you like heavy rain, slowly wearing you out the longer you had to withstand it. Nearly everyone you met would soon make the connection between you and your family name and make assumptions about you, several of them nasty. Your least favorite of the rumors however, and maybe it was because it was the most frequent, was that you paid your way into university. For some reason, people couldn’t seem to fathom the idea of you having a functioning brain, and you were getting sick of it.

During your walk, the sky creeped open and rain began to drizzle down, further dampening your mood. Then in the distance, quickly becoming louder, you heard the boom of the bass from the speakers of a car. Next thing you knew, you saw a convertible with its top down coming down the road, filled to more than its full capacity with young men, and just as you had expected it slowed as it was about to pass you. “Hey, little lady, why don’t you come for a ride with us?” one of the boys offered slyly.

You refused to even pretend to play along though, and instead you just put in your earphones and turned your music up to max volume to drown them out until they had enough fun and turned around. It definitely was not the first time that had happened. Frequently, actually, boys would cross over into this side of town and entertain themselves by messing with the snooty, rich folk. You couldn’t blame them, to be honest. Sometimes you felt the same way. Sometimes, you wished you could disassociate yourself with everything that had to do with this city and start something new where no one had any idea who you or your family were.

You were feeling bored, unfulfilled… You really weren’t sure what it was, but you were feeling just as gray and lifeless as the cloudy sky. The concrete streets and buildings of the city. Even the river’s flowing water displayed a dead, sooty color under the gloomy sky. You began to wonder if your eyes were one day going to reflect the same shade.

“No! Absolutely not! This is ridiculous!” Your mother barked, angrily pressing her finger harshly down onto the remote’s power button as the screen of the television went dark. The news anchor had just been reporting on today’s commencement of the new policy enacted by your city to allow ‘free entry of especially gifted students from less fortunate communities’ into the most prestigious university in your city. “I am paying way too much money to send you to this school to keep you away from these thugs, and now they get to waltz on in there for absolutely no charge?”

By ‘thugs’ she meant, of course, the people from the west side of the city. You barely suppressed the eye roll that crept up on you. “If you really wanted me away from them, you should have let me leave the city like I wanted.”

“Yeah, you far enough away where I can’t keep an eye on you? That won’t be happening.” She shook her head disapprovingly before returning her attention to her laptop, typing away at the keyboard. Suddenly, her phone began to ring, and she quickly scooped it up, composing herself before answering with a business-like greeting and excusing herself from the room.

You sighed, checking your phone for the time, the digital numbers indicating that you had thirty-five minutes until your morning lecture on photography, so you placed your plate in the sink, leaving it for the cleaning service to take care of when they came later in the day, as they did every other day. You scooped up your bag and slipped your shoes on, calling to your mother who was most likely already in her office, “Okay, Mom, I’m heading out!” No response. You gave a quick sigh before mumbling to yourself, “Bye.”

Because your house was conveniently located in the busy part of town, and the university stood just outside the business district, it was a relatively short walk, only about twenty minutes long. Your mother insisted she could have her driver take you to and from classes, but you denied. You would much rather walk than draw more attention to yourself and risk looking like a spoiled brat, even though your college was mostly comprised of students who came from wealthy families like you had.

You quickly decided that stopping for a coffee on the way to class was a poor decision on your part now that you were ever so casually speeding down the last block to get there in time. You were heading to the row just a few back from the front as you always did when you spotted an unfamiliar face in the very seat you had claimed since the beginning of the semester. The rest of the row was practically empty since this was a fairly small class. He seriously couldn’t have picked any other spot?

You slowly approached, careful to keep a friendly smile on your face, especially since he seemed to be a new student. You set your bag in the seat next to him before speaking quietly, “Excuse me, but would you mind moving down a few seats? This is usually where I sit.”

The boy looked up from under his black bangs that fell over his forehead. “Aren’t there plenty of other seats to choose from?” he deadpanned, looking up and down the nearly empty row of seats. The polite smile faltered for a moment before you exaggerated it even more.

“I suppose there are…” you reluctantly agreed through clenched teeth, picking up your bag and moving yourself down a few seats from the boy who was now fiddling with his camera he had brought to class. Just moments later, your professor came in, greeting the class and beginning the lecture. You quickly brought out your notebook and your own camera, and you noticed the eyes of the boy sitting next to you staring intently at your camera. Brows turning down in petty dislike for this new student, you brought your hand up to take the strap and pull it closer to you, not afraid to let him to see your scowl.

After another very long and confusing photography lecture, you were once again puzzled by the assignment you had been given and you reluctantly had to ask your professor for help before you left the classroom. You didn’t think this class would be so difficult. You only took it as an elective for an easy A, but instead it ended up being much more complicated than you had initially anticipated. No matter how much you played around, you couldn’t figure out how to get the perfect picture with the right details like everyone else could. “Professor Choi,” you called for her attention. She looked up from the stack of papers she was arranging at her desk while you slung your bag over your shoulder and approached her with hurried steps. “I just had a quick question about exactly how to use—”

“Ms. _____, I’m sorry, but I cannot keep answering your questions about the functions of your camera. This should be prior knowledge or something to study and experiment with in your own time. If you need help, you should consider getting advice from another student who is more well-versed with a camera.” She suddenly looked behind you and you followed her gaze, finding the same boy still lingering, finally leaving from where he sat. “Like Mr. Jeon, for example,” she gestured to him, and his head perked up at the sound of his name. “He’s one of our new students from the Prodigy Program, Jeon Jungkook, and he possesses extraordinary photography skills. He would be an excellent resource for help. Mr. Jeon, how do you feel about that?”

You were quick to wave your hands in protest, voicing, “No, that’s really not necessary.”

“According to your dropping grade, I believe it is necessary, Ms. _____,” she spoke over the rim of her glasses. You felt your cheeks burn red in humiliation, catching a glimpse of the boy fighting back a smug grin. “Mr. Jeon, please tutor her in the class. She would surely appreciate it. Ms. _____, perhaps you can show him around campus and get him accustomed to the new surroundings in return.”

You stayed silent, listening to the clicking of her heels as she left the both of you behind in the empty classroom. It was silent and stiff, and you were still chewing on your bottom lip in embarrassment, especially in front of the boy with whom you had just hit it off poorly an hour prior. Jungkook suddenly cleared his throat and began to speak, but you had no interest in what he was about to say, so you shoved past him and left without a word.

You almost considered not showing up to the next class, but you swallowed your pride and walked through those doors and quickly made your way to the back corner of the room. You were sure you felt Jungkook’s eyes follow you as you passed by your usual row, where he still sat in your seat. You barely even cared anymore, though. He could have it. You would much rather finish the semester hidden in the back of the classroom.

You took no time in leaving once class was over, heading out the door to quickly reach the fresh air of the outside where you didn’t feel like you had to hold your breath, not forgetting to shoot a glare to Professor Choi as you passed by her desk. You made sure you had enough time to get to class today by choosing to not get a coffee before class started, so you decided now would be the best time to do so. You crossed through the courtyard to get to your usual cafe just outside of the campus.

Once you sat down, you brought out your laptop and your camera in order to finally figure out how this thing worked. You should have done it earlier, but you were discouraged so you let the problem fester for a few more days before finally attacking it. You were fiddling around with a few of the functions that you were reading about on your computer, desperately trying to figure out how to make your pictures look professional. You were finally able to focus once your coffee was ready, but you were once again distracted when you felt eyes on you and you looked up to search around. That’s when you spotted familiar dark bangs under a black hoodie. You quickly looked back down, hoping he hadn’t noticed you, but you soon realized he was sauntering directly over to the table you sat at.

He dropped himself down onto the chair across from yours, but he only sat there, waiting for you to say something first. “Can I help you?” you offered grumpily.

“No, but I can help you.” He still stared with the nonchalant, blank expression, which for some reason made his presence even more irritating. You ignored his offer and instead became accusing.

“How did you even know I was here? Did you follow me or something?” You looked him over suspiciously.

An impassive smirk grew on one side of his lips. “I may have seen you come this way.” You scoffed, still wondering why he would have gone out of his way to come here. “Aw, come on. Don’t be like that. I’m new around here. I’ve got no one to talk to.”

You raised a brow in disbelief. “So you came to talk to me?”

His lips suddenly turned down and his playful demeanor switched off. He leaned forward in his chair, his voice suddenly holding a deeper tone as he spoke lowly, “What, is the pretty little rich girl too good for me?” You were suddenly taken aback and your eyes went round. “Surprised?” he continued with an angry snort. “It wasn’t hard to figure out. People around campus seem to like to talk about you.”

Your shoulders drooped at the thought. “Yeah, they sure do,” you sighed, suddenly frustrated at your unavoidable reputation within your school. “I guess that’s what happens when your dad is the founder of one of the biggest tech supplier companies in Korea. Well… was. My mom took his place as CEO now, but technically it’s—” You noticed you began rambling and had already said way more than you needed to, so you quickly clamped your mouth shut, but you couldn’t stop yourself from opening it again to ramble nervously. “Sorry, I don’t know why I even brought that up,” you laughed lamely, leaning back into your seat.

Jungkook straightened himself up suddenly and his voice became strangely unnatural. “Tech supplier, huh?” You noticed something seemed rather insincere, as if his mind was preoccupied. “What about your dad? Where is he now?” He suddenly inquired casually.

Your brows shot up for only a moment before your form deflated when you answered his question. “He’s… He’s dead, actually.”

Jungkook’s eyes suddenly widened before he mumbled, “I’m sorry.” He looked remorseful, but his eyes were also unfocused and distracted, making you unsure if you should actually take his condolences seriously.

You squinted your eyes in confusion, but you ignored the weird feeling it gave you. You gave a quick smile, picking yourself up and moving on from the topic. “It’s alright. It happened a long time ago.”

Jungkook’s eyes focused back on you after he shook his head to clear his thoughts. “Anyways,” he began, steering away from the saddening subject, “I’ll help you if you need me to.”

You debated the decision for a moment, but with one look back at the indecipherable directions on the screen of your computer, you decided getting his help would be the best option. “You know what, I would actually love your help,” you sighed, taking the last sip of your coffee. You looked at the time and realized that it had been much later than you anticipated, and knowing your mother, you would soon be receiving frantic messages and phone calls wondering where you were. “But can I take a raincheck on that? I should really be going.” You gave an apologetic smile, quickly packing up your things into your backpack and waving goodbye before you hurried back home.

After the next class, you both walked to the cafe together where Jungkook would give his first lesson on how to use a camera properly and how to take the perfect picture. You smiled while sitting down after you both ordered a drink. “Again, I’m sorry that you have to spend your time teaching me how to use a camera. I can’t believe I have to get tutored in photography of all things.”

“There’s no shame in a bad grade,” he impassively remarked, hanging his leather jacket over the back of his chair before sitting across from you. “Also, not to call you out or anything, but if you want to learn more, it’s probably not the best idea to sit in the back corner during class,” he lazily raised an eyebrow.

You shrugged your shoulders, agreeing, “Yeah that’s probably true, but it’s not easy getting humiliated by your professor.”

Jungkook’s lips turned down in nonchalance. “Why do you even care what she says? I sure as hell wouldn’t.”

You looked down and traced the lines in the wood that made the table with your finger. “Yeah. I guess I’m just tired of my professors thinking that I don’t belong in this school. Most of them seem to think I’m only here because I paid my way in, and that I don’t have any actual brains,” you scowled.

He sat there, face contorted in a mix of several different emotions, but he seemed apprehensive to express what he was thinking. Usually, you would feel like an idiot if someone reacted that way to anything you said, but there was something about Jungkook doing it that made it… not so bad? You had a feeling he wasn’t the type to be a fan of “deep conversations” like these, judging by the awkward hesitance as his face twitched in thought, seemingly unable to let any expression through his ever-calm-and-collected front.

Jungkook brushed it off and suddenly he reached across the table to bring your camera closer to him to examine. “Alright, let’s see what we’ve got here.” He played around with a few of the buttons and twisted the lense this way and that, looking through the viewfinder, then he shook his head in disbelief. “Unbelievable! I knew I recognized the model. You’ve got the best fucking camera money can buy and you don’t even know how to use it.” You would have been offended, but then you saw the small smile that appeared on his lips, and it was the first time you had seen one that was genuine, so you stayed quiet and let him enjoy the moment. “God, I would kill for one of these…” He continued looking through the viewfinder and snapping a few pictures for what now seemed like his own amusement instead of figuring out how it worked.

“Yeah, you really seem to like it,” you smirked, waiting patiently for him to be satisfied. He froze at your remark and quickly set the camera down, clearing his throat and leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed over his chest. You couldn’t help but laugh at how quickly he wiped that smile from his face when he was caught breaking his tough exterior.

He quickly wet his lips and straightened up in his seat as he began his lesson. “Okay then, let’s start with the basics.” You nodded eagerly, excited to finally gain some knowledge about a camera and hopefully be able to use it decently from now on. “The first thing you should know about is exposure. There’s three elements that make up exposure and those are aperture, shutter speed, and the ISO,” he slowly explained, pointing to each of the places on the camera that controlled each of these elements. You tried your best to follow along, but you found yourself getting distracted by the rings Jungkook wore on his fingers, and then your eyes traveled over his alarmingly good-looking hands and up the veins that ran up his forearm and suddenly you couldn’t hear a word he was saying. You shook your head lightly, trying to tune back in to Jungkook’s teaching, and this time you actually focused on his voice, but not necessarily the words it produced, but the velvety smooth sound of it.

No. This was not happening. You nervously downed the rest of your cooling coffee and looked at your phone in a panic, attempting to reel yourself back in. “You okay?” he asked in confusion, eyes flickering between you and your empty coffee cup when you unintentionally slammed it down onto the table.

Your eyes widened as you shook your head in dismissal. “N-no! I mean, yes! Everything’s fine.” He narrowed his gaze at you in doubt, but he didn’t bother to push it anyway. “Listen,” you began, eyes darting away from his gaze nervously, picking up your phone and looking for an excuse. “I actually am running short on time. I should be going.”

“I thought you had until—”

You gathered your things before standing up, chair screeching against the tiled floors. “I know,” you interrupted, wearing a guilty smile, “but my mom just texted me and she needs me.” You started toward the exit before skidding to a stop and turning back to him, still sitting there a little dumbfounded. “Can we meet after next class? No interruptions this time, I promise.” He answered with a simple nod, so you waved goodbye and pushed your way through the exit, taking a large sigh of relief once you had reached safety.

You felt bad that you had looked for an excuse to see him again, but you couldn’t help it. As much as you hated to admit it, he was undeniably attractive, and honestly, it was already driving you crazy. Besides, he still has to teach you about your camera, and you felt bad that you cut his lesson off, but you had to get out of there or else you may have lost it. You weren’t supposed to be getting distracted by a pretty face! No one had ever been able to so easily mess with your mind, but Jungkook wasn’t just anyone. He was mysterious and confusing and alluring and you were falling for it just like a cheesy romance novel protagonist. And that was terrifying because what would your mother think? You don’t know why you thought that really mattered, though. It’s just physical attraction and that can easily be ignored.

Turns out being physically attracted to someone is not so easily ignored. Here you were at the cafe sitting across from Jungkook, still completely and utterly blown away by the natural beauty of this man in front of you that you had never bothered to notice in anyone else. Not to mention, it only became more difficult to ignore that ticklish feeling in your stomach now that you’ve gotten to know him and the little quirks in his personality that he seems to suppress almost naturally, making you wonder how long he’s had to put up a front throughout his life.

“I’ve got you all figured out,” Jungkook insisted, pointing a finger in your direction, successfully snapping you out of your troubling internal monologue.

You crossed your arms over your chest, leaning back with a challenging brow lifted. “Is that so?” You were much less timid than you had been the first time Jungkook had tried to teach you photography basics. You two had met several times now, and things had slowly become more natural between the two of you You came to enjoy his company, and you hoped it was safe to assume the same on his end. You still passed these meetings at the cafe off as “study sessions,” but you rarely got any tutoring done anymore, opting instead for conversation over a cup of coffee. Does that make you two friends? You weren’t exactly sure for yourself, and that was something you would never actually ask Jungkook, knowing he would probably find it awkward to actually talk about, even if he did consider you a friend.

“You’re just like the main character of all those cliche movies,” he explained, bringing you down from your cloudy thoughts yet again. “You’re the sheltered, well-behaved daughter who wants to rebel by doing something like getting a secret tattoo or falling for the bad boy. Tell me, am I irresistible?” He wore a cocky smirk that you were so tempted to wipe off with a slap to the face in your embarrassment, though you couldn’t help but laugh anyway. Your face burned crimson, which you hoped wouldn’t give you away, because right now, you were afraid he was dead on.

You searched desperately for a response to get him back, but as far as you knew, he was unbreakable, so you were forced to give up and retreat. “Yeah, right! I’m going to get my coffee,” you mumbled, standing up in attempt to escape and recuperate.

“Don’t worry. I already ordered it for you,” his voice came from behind. It was unusually soft compared to his normally gruff tone, and he looked out the window instead of at you. Was it just you or was he… shy?

“Oh!” you abruptly swiveled back, seeing a cup already placed on your side of the table. You picked it up to examine, looking for the markings to show its ingredients. “Is it—”

“It’s just the way you like it. I promise.”

You began digging through your purse in search of your wallet. “Let me pay you back, then,” you offered, pulling out a ten dollar bill when you were unable to find any smaller bills, not minding if he had to keep the change.

“No, don’t worry about it. My treat.” He shook his head, making no moves toward the cash held out in front of him.

“No, really take it,” you insisted, holding out the money, practically shoving it into his grip, but he only waved your hand away. “It’s the least I can do. You’re already helping me out for nothing in return.”

“Don’t worry about me. I’ve got money—maybe not as much as you, princess—but it’s enough to keep me going.” You hated that his nickname had such an immediate effect on you, causing the same blush to reappear on your face. You didn’t want to draw more of his attention to you while your face was on fire, so you quickly gave up, retracting your hand and putting the money back into your wallet with a deep sigh. Jungkook perked up with an idea suddenly, leaning his forearms onto the table as he spoke. “Actually, I do have a way you could pay me back.” You nodded, waiting for his request. “I have a paper due for English 101 on Monday, and that class isn’t my strong suit. You’re good at English, right? Could you help me out with that?”

“Sure, I can look over that and help you revise it if you need me to. Have you finished so I can go ahead and look over it now?” you asked, already waiting for him to bring out his computer and show you his finished product.

You watched his tongue roll on the inside of his cheek and met his eyes that only held a blank stare. “I haven’t started.”

“What?” you shrieked. “Jungkook! That paper is due in two days, and you have none of it done? Those aren’t easy to rush, you know.” You scolded him, and he fluttered his eyes shut, exhaling slowly, as if he had expected that exact reaction from you. He only shrugged as a response, making you even more frustrated with the boy. “Okay, well I guess we need to meet up tomorrow to get that done, but the cafe’s closed on Sundays, so maybe we should meet in the courtyard.” You looked to him for any sort of confirmation or objection, but he only continued to listen uninterestedly, eliciting an exasperated huff from you. “Sure, we’ll do that. A little fresh air could do us some good anyway. Meet me at six.”

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t put just a little bit of effort into your appearance today. Definitely not because you were meeting Jungkook, though. You just didn’t have to wake up as early as usual, so you just happened to feel like putting on makeup and planning a nicer outfit as opposed to a hoodie and leggings like you wear for almost every single class.

You texted Jungkook to meet you at the right-most bench in the courtyard at six, but it was now almost a quarter after and there was still no sign of him. You slowly grew more impatient as each minute passed by and it took a considerable amount of effort to keep yourself from sending him a second text asking him where he was. Finally, you saw him jogging towards you from the path adjacent to where you sat, making you breathe in relief and you were about to berate him, but you quickly stopped yourself after one look at his dishevelled state and his slight limp that wasn’t hard to miss. Your eyes trailed him up and down in concern as you quickly stood up to meet him. “What the hell happened to you?” you asked, hands twitching by your sides as you fought the urge to brush away the hair hanging down in his face.

He beat you to it, luckily, as he swept his hair back and shook his head, dismissing the matter. “It’s nothing. I was just in a hurry. Sorry I’m late.” He plopped down onto the bench and you followed just after, still keeping your eyes trained on him in worry. When you put your hand down, you felt it land on top of his own, so you quickly picked it back and and instinctually looked down to wear his hand propped up his upper body and you didn’t miss the blot of scarlet on his knuckles.

You didn’t hesitate in taking his hand into your own now, bringing it up to make sure your eyes were not deceiving you. “You’re bleeding!” you pointed out to him, looking at the red that painted each of his knuckles.

He hummed, taking a careless glance before quickly wiping it off on his jeans, leaving a stain that your eyes focused on in disbelief before directing your rounded eyes back up to his face. He squinted at your reaction, clearly not nearly as interested as you were. “What? I was in a rush, and I fell. That’s all,” he insisted, opening his laptop to move on and get started on his paper.

Your eyes zeroed in on the skin just below his eye that was beginning to take on a dark hue. “I’d believe you if your eye weren’t turning blue right now.” His hand came up to touch his eye without thinking and you could see that he barely winced before he shook his head and continued to open up a document on his computer. You continued to stare patiently, but he made no move to relieve your concerns. “Are you gonna tell me what happened or not?”

He scoffed, clicking his tongue with eyes still focused on the screen in front of him. “I already did. The black eye is because my face hit the ground.” He turned to you to still find you scrutinizing him, but he chose to ignore it and get straight into writing the essay. He began to read the prompt aloud until he stopped when he felt a large drop of water fall onto his cheek, and at just about the same moment, you felt the same on your thigh. You both looked up and saw the dark clouds that had drifted in from a distance. Suddenly, as if someone had flipped a switch to go right on cue, the sky opened up and rain came crashing down on the city with a crack of thunder to top it all off.

After only a few moments, you were already much too wet for your own liking, so you dragged Jungkook behind you to the nearest awning of a building to stand under. “Great,” you murmured, already shivering from the chill of your damp clothes. “Now what are we gonna do?”

Jungkook sighed and looked out at the droplets that poured down just a few inches in front of him while drying off the screen of his laptop with his shirt. “You know, it’s okay. I’ll figure something out. You don’t have to help.”

“No. I want to help. I need to after how much you’ve helped me,” you insisted. You tapped your chin in thought of a place to seek refuge from the rain, and the only place that came to mind was home. Home, however, was a risk since there was the chance that your mother would be home, but she usually worked even on Sundays, and you didn’t think there was any reason she wouldn’t be working today, so you decided that would be your best option. “We can go to my place to write this.”

You heard Jungkook mutter behind you, but you couldn’t make out what he said as you built up enough courage and went back out into the cold rain. You glanced behind you to see Jungkook hastily stuffing his laptop back into his bag and reluctantly following behind. Your teeth began to chatter and you crossed your arms over your chest to maintain some body heat. You heard Jungkook’s quiet voice, not quite able to understand what he had said, but he pulled you closer to him and had taken his leather jacket off, now holding it over both of your heads to keep the heavy flow of rain from beating down on you any longer. You blushed at the thoughtful act and your whole body began to feel warmer within moments.

Suddenly what you were sure would be a long, miserable walk went by much faster than you had expected, except for the fact that a jacket could only do so much and you were both still soaking wet and cold. You unlocked the front door and kicked off your soggy shoes, and Jungkook followed, and you told him to wait where he was on the doormat. You came back with a towel for each of you to dry off with. You wrapped the plush cloth around you tightly after squeezing out your dripping hair. To be honest, you hadn’t really thought this far ahead, so now you both stood in the doorway wondering what to do with your still very wet bodies that could easily damage the expensive furniture in your house.

You heard the front door just behind Jungkook begin to open and he quickly stepped out of the way before getting hit with it. Your heart dropped. It was your mother. She took in the scene with a bewildered appearance, eyes drifting from you, soaking wet with eyes like those of a deer caught in headlights to the equally damp boy with the leather jacket, forming black eye, and blood stain on his jeans.

“_____, who’s this?” she inquired with a strained smile, eyes flickering between the two of you. You had a feeling Jungkook could easily sense the tension because you saw him shift awkwardly between his feet.

“Mom, I didn’t think you’d be home. This is Jungkook. I’m helping him with English. We’re in the same class.”

“Oh, you go to college with _____? Where are you from Jungkook?” You could see from the look in her eye that she was testing him. She already knew, but she never thought that you would actually be dumb enough to bring someone like him into her house.

There was a moment of silence where you could tell he was thinking carefully about what to say, and you tried to step in and answer for him with something safe that you hoped your mother would accept and maybe even make her think her assumption was wrong—although that was entirely unlikely—but he spoke over you. “I don’t know if you’re familiar with my part of town. It’s west of the river.” You shrunk when you saw the forced smile slide off your mother’s features. You glanced to Jungkook. You never would have guessed from the calmness of his voice, but there was a certain challenging glint in his eyes.

“I see. I never thought I’d see the day when my daughter brought someone like you into my home.” She gave you a once over and you fluttered your eyes shut in shame that you knew you had no reason to feel and shouldn’t be feeling, but that look on your mother’s face never failed to make you feel guilty for absolutely anything.

Jungkook’s tongue poked into his cheek and he laughed dryly. “Well, don’t worry. I’ll keep my grubby hands to myself.” Your mother’s eyes widened at his rebellious response, and you quickly ushered him up the stairs to prevent any other confrontation that might have occurred had you not intervened.

Once you reached the top of the stairs and achieved peace for the present moment, you led Jungkook to your bedroom and quickly shut the door behind you, dragging your hands down your face in embarrassment and guilt and frustration and... you weren’t even sure what you were feeling at the moment. Jungkook still wore a scowl on his face when you peeked through your fingers, and he spoke, “No offense, but your mom’s kind of a bitch.”

You groaned and kept your hands where they covered your face, too afraid to meet his intense gaze. “I know. I’m so sorry.” You finally let your hands fall to your sides, defeatedly. “I didn’t think she would be home, so I didn't think we would have this problem.”

You were at a loss for words, disappointed and embarrassed, until you finally let out in a small voice, “She’s not really like that, or at least she wasn’t always. She’s just hurt.” Jungkook didn’t even have to make a move before you elaborated, hopeful to give him some sort of explanation he would accept. “My father was killed by a gang member from the other side of town, and she just hasn’t been the same since.”

“I’m sorry,” Jungkook said equally as quietly as his eyes shifted to the ground. You saw his jaw clench and realized you were probably making him uncomfortable, so you dropped yourself onto your plush bed and patted the space beside you to beckon him to follow.

“Let’s get started on this paper, then,” you began jovially, although it was obvious to the both of you that the change of mood was at least partially forced.

Jungkook took slow steps to join you where you sat and released a quick sigh. “We’re not all like that.” Jungkook’s fingers were intertwined with each other while his elbows rested on his knees and his head was facing you, yet his eyes did not meet your own.

A soft, guilty smile grew on your lips. “It’s okay. I know.” You chewed on your bottom lip, lost in thought after your failure to divert from the subject. You were determined this time, however, as you motioned for him to bring out his laptop, asking, “Alright. What’s your topic?”

He laid his computer on his lap and handed you a paperback novel. “It’s a character analysis on a character of choice from this book.” You observed the illustrated cover and read the title. Luckily, you had read the novel before, so you could better help Jungkook write the essay. “I don’t know which character to write about though.”

You hummed in thought and flipped through the pages, briefly looking for names to jog your memory. “Well, the main character is the obvious choice, so if you want to impress your professor, that’s not the way to go. Were there any particular characters that interested you?”

Jungkook stared for a moment, but only shook his head in response, saying, “No. I didn’t even like the book.”

You frowned to yourself for a moment, remembering how much you had enjoyed reading the same book. You thought of the most memorable character and suggested to him, “What about Maxine? She was a major character and her story can be interpreted in several different ways, especially with how her relationship with Vernon developed.”

Jungkook scowled shaking his head. “She was the worst character. She couldn’t even take care of her own kid, let alone someone else’s. That’s why the whole plot seemed pointless to me.”

“Well, she was an addict, but throughout the story you could see her battling with her addiction for the sake of her son and everyone else who cared about her. She wasn’t able to succeed in keeping her son in the end, but her good characteristics shine through and that’s what you can write your paper about.”

“She was a shitty character and she didn’t care about her son, but if you want to insist I write the paper on her, then you can just write it for me.” Jungkook dropped the computer on the mattress in the space between you and pushed himself up off the bed, turning his back to you.

Your brows creased in concern as you stood up just a few steps behind him. You tentatively placed a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, wait, I didn’t mean to upset you. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong. You’re just being annoying.”

He pushed your hand off of his shoulder and turned around to look at you, face still hardened. Your expression imitated his own, and you questioned impatiently, “Do you want me to help you or not?” Jungkook’s nostrils flared before his tensed arms folded over his chest dropped to his sides and he went back to his seat at the bed. You only observed him for a moment before you gave in and joined him once again, handing his laptop back to him and deciding to ignore the matter for now.

After a few hours of focusing solely on the paper, you both had finished and the final result was definitely worthy of a good grade. The majority of the time had passed in silence, with you leading most of the conversation and helping him with writing rules and him adding his own ideas to the paper silently. His quietness did not go unnoticed by you, though.

Jungkook was adding the finishing touches, and finally he closed his computer to pack it away. Meanwhile, you were debating bringing up the issue that had been weighing on you throughout the writing process of his essay. “Jungkook,” you began nervously, “I don’t know exactly what it was that made you so upset, but I’m sorry.” You glanced up to Jungkook, and you were sure you saw his hardened gaze become neutral as he noticed your eyes on him. “You can talk to me about whatever it is that’s bothering you, though. Just so you know.” One end of your mouth quirked up in an attempt to be comforting without overstepping your boundaries.

Jungkook rolled his head from one shoulder to the other, propping himself up on his hands. His eyes stayed on the corner of the ceiling as he explained. “I guess I just see a lot of resemblance between my own mother and Maxine.” Jungkook shuffled his feet on the ground before continuing, “I guess now that you explain it though, Maxine was actually better than her when it comes down to it.”

You watched silently as his brows pulled together in concentration on the floor below him. You could tell he had been hurt, though you weren’t exactly sure how, but you didn’t expect him to elaborate any further. You sighed in thought and melted further into your bed. “Don’t go feeling sorry for me, now. It never actually mattered to me.” You almost pointed out the mirthless smile that spread across his lips, but kept your mouth shut tightly in a moment of hesitation. It wasn’t difficult to see that he was suppressing his emotions, and you knew he would eventually pay for having done that for probably a majority of his life, but you were afraid to push your thoughts onto him seeing how he had a habit of shutting down whenever he had to express something real.

Jungkook cleared his throat, suddenly ushering you out of your thoughts and you hadn’t even realized that you had been staring the whole time. Your eyes darted away, but you didn’t miss the silent chuckle that came forth from Jungkook’s lips. With your face burning red, you diverted your attention to the time on your phone screen, gasping, “I didn’t even realize it had gotten so late.” You stood up, pulling back your curtains and peeking outside to see the sun had already set. “You shouldn’t walk home at this time of night. Do you want me to get you an Uber?” you worried, already pulling up the app on your phone.

He placed his hand on the rim of your phone, pulling it down to get your attention, chuckling, “I’m fine. I can handle myself.”

You pressed your lips together, concerned, still hesitating to let him go when you could help. He already picked up his bag and threw it over his shoulder, however, so you were forced to digress as he began to walk away. You followed him down the stairs toward the front door, requesting, “Fine, but text me when you get home safely.”

Jungkook couldn’t hold back his laughter, throwing a look over his shoulder at you. “Don’t smother me.”

“I’m not!” you countered with a grin. You crossed your arms over your chest at the breeze let in as Jungkook turned to face you one last time on the front porch.

Jungkook looked over your shoulder and the fraction of a smile that had been present on his lips faded away. “I’ll see you later, _____.”

You bid him farewell in return and in the next moment he was descending the front steps and on his way home. You closed the door and you were once again surrounded by the warmth of the inside, but your goosebumps did not go away when you saw your mother who had been standing in the doorway to the kitchen, watching as he left. The both of you made eye contact for a few moments before she wordlessly turned and walked back into the kitchen, and you did the same, slinking back into your room as if you hadn’t seen her.

You laid on your bed, finishing up studying for class the next day, when your eyes shifted down to the numbers displayed in the bottom right corner of the screen. It was almost midnight. Jungkook should have gotten home by now, but the multiple times you had checked, even in the moment, you still received no message. You took it upon yourself to make sure he made it back alright.

‘Did you get home safely?’ You sighed throwing your phone down next to you, not expecting him to respond anytime soon since he was always very flaky with texting.

Your screen lit up within a few minutes however with a new message from Jungkook. You quickly slid your thumb across the screen and unlocked your phone to read his reply. ‘yes.’ It was short and simple, like his messages always were. He was a man of few words on all levels. However, for some reason, you couldn’t help the giddy feeling you got, your lip caught between your smiling teeth at the thought that—though highly unlikely—his quick reply meant that he had been waiting for you to say something first. You felt silly, like you were a freshman in high school all over again, but the feeling was nonetheless welcomed.

Your fingers speedily typed back, ‘Good. You had me worried for a second there.’ You patiently watched the screen for a while until the read receipt popped up under your message. However, there was no indication of a reply coming your way, and you rolled your eyes at the far too familiar scenario. You lifted your head up for a moment, letting your eyes scan around your room for no particular reason until they landed on a black bag in the corner of your room. It resurfaced a thought that had been lingering in the back of your mind for a while now, and you decided now was as good a time as any to confront it. Typing once more on your phone, you sent one more message to Jungkook. ‘Can we meet at the cafe tomorrow? There’s something I want to give to you.’

Suspecting Jungkook’s record-time reply was a one-time-only kind of thing, you placed your phone on your nightstand and closed your computer up, laying back in your bed to finally get some sleep for class the next day.

You sat at your usual table in the far corner of the cafe, waiting with both of your drinks already ordered and paid for in return for last time. Luckily, today, you weren’t kept waiting for long as Jungkook came walking in relatively on time with a black baseball cap pulled down tightly. As soon as he sat, you ducked your head and discovered the reason for his not-so-subtle accessorization. His eye had become darker than it was the day before. You clicked your tongue reaching over and lifting the cap to get a better look at it, fighting against Jungkook’s grip to hold it in place.

“Must have been quite a fall, huh?” you observed with an incredulous glare. Jungkook only silently nodded. You both knew that you knew he was lying, but no one said a word. After a moment of thought, you inhaled sharply and bent down to where the black bag sat next to you, pulling out the object of interest. “Right. I have something for you.”

Jungkook observed with a raised brow and watched as you pulled out your camera that he had seen countless times before. You placed it on the table and grinned, waiting for any sort of response, but Jungkook’s eyes only flickered between you and the camera cluelessly. “What?” he finally gave in and questioned.

You rolled your eyes dramatically and pushed the camera across the little table closer to him. “I’m giving you the camera!”

Jungkook’s eyes were suddenly huge and his mouth hung open for a mere second in disbelief. “You can’t be serious. This camera costs a lot of money. Why would you just give it to me?”

Your eyes trailed down and you shrugged slightly. “I don’t know, you just got so excited when you saw it the first time that I’ve been thinking about how much more you deserved it since then. After this semester ends, I won’t even want to touch a camera again, but you love photography, so it’s much better in your hands.”

“Why don’t you just keep it until the end of the semester, then? There’s only a few more weeks.” His eyes were glued to the object in front of him like a child looks at a candy bar.

“I’ll get a different camera, a cheaper one, and that way you can use that one for the final project.” Jungkook still looked hesitant, looking to you one final time for some sort of approval. Your laugh bubbled up inside of you. “It’s yours! Take it.” His hands took hold of the camera in no time, a beaming smile on his face, as he began snapping pictures of anything and everything in sight. He took one of the tree just outside the window, then a picture of the two coffee mugs placed beside each other on the table, stopping to take a look at the results for just a moment before diving right back into it.

You weren’t even sure what made you want to give him the camera all of a sudden, but as you watched him, you realized it was probably because of that childlike smile on his face. Every once in a while, he was unable to uphold his strong exterior and instead he just let it down and showed a completely different side of himself, one that very few were ever lucky enough to see. It made you happy that you were one of the few.

Suddenly, you noticed that the camera lens had been pointed directly at you. You tried to bring your hands up to hide your face, but Jungkook was already looking at the result, signalling you had been too late. “Delete that!” you whined as Jungkook laughed obnoxiously, jerking the camera away from you as you tried to take it away from him. When he looked at the picture, his laughing grin turned into a softer smile. “Jungkook, please get rid of that. I probably looked so—”

“You look…” he cut you off, stopping mid sentence in thought. He looked up to you for a mere moment and then back down to the picture. “...beautiful.” At that moment you were completely floored, unable to say anything else. In the dead silence between the two of you, it was as if Jungkook had just registered what he said, and he quickly set down the camera, looking out the window because he had no idea where else to look.

You bit down on your lip to hold back the smile that wanted so desperately to spread across your face, pushing a few stray strands of hair back behind your ear. “Thank you,” you mumbled. Jungkook still looked out the window, but you heard a laugh get caught in his throat, which escalated to both of you giggling and blushing like idiots. Anyone walking by would look at the both of you and think you’re just a pair of awkward teenagers falling in love. Maybe that’s exactly what you were.

Your mother would kill you if she knew what you were doing right now. Jungkook wanted to kick off summer vacation with something new. You were hesitant at first, but Jungkook was able to coerce you into it, so now you found yourself in Jungkook’s side of the city, a place you had never ventured to before. You would be lying if you said you weren’t a little scared, especially because of the way your mother described it, whether it was completely true or not, but it definitely didn’t help when Jungkook told you to stay close to him, which made your heart beat faster for two completely different reasons.

After passing through a dark alley that gave you goosebumps, Jungkook led you to a beaten up little building. You read the glowing sign at the top dubbing the building Roy’s Diner. “You brought me all the way here to eat?” you asked Jungkook doubtfully.

“Trust me. It’s worth it. The food here is amazing.” Jungkook walked a few steps ahead of you and looked back to see you examining the restaurant. You weren’t one to judge a book by its cover, but you weren’t even sure how this place was passing any kind of building inspections. “Come on, it’s one of my favorite places. It was in real bad shape a few years ago and on the brink of closing down.”

“Well, if you love this place so much, you should work to fix it up and save it. I’d be willing to help, too, if you want,” you offered.

Jungkook looked at you like you were crazy. “Save it? What are you talking about? It’s already been fixed up. The place is thriving now!” He gestured grandly to the building, causing you to give it a doubtful second examination. You weren’t exactly sure what his definition of ‘thriving’ was, but it must be vastly different from yours judging by the flickering neon sign and the walls that desperately needed painting and, quite frankly, looked like they could very well cave in on themselves soon. You gave him a tight smile, but he only rolled his eyes. “Look, it may not look like all those fancy restaurants you’re used to, but I promise, I’m about to introduce you to the best fries and milkshake you have ever tasted in your life. Nothing beats Roy’s cooking.”

After Jungkook had grabbed your hand and practically dragged you inside, you were met with a much different atmosphere than what you were expecting. It was unexpectedly warm and cozy inside, and the loud chatter and laughter coming from all around almost made it feel like you were at a rowdy Thanksgiving dinner. Suddenly almost everyone that had been engrossed in a conversation turned towards the door to see the two of you had arrived. There was a deafening chorus of greetings to Jungkook, mostly from the older folks at the bar and surrounding tables whom Jungkook dragged you over to. Only after Jungkook gave almost each and every one of them a hug, which was much to your surprise, did some of the older women notice you were there. “Oh, Jungkook! You finally got yourself a girl and brought her here to meet us!” one of the women practically shouted as another tried to pinch Jungkook’s cheek while he quickly tried to maneuver away.

Jungkook rubbed at the back of his neck, finally realizing he still held your hand in his own and quickly released his grip, much to your disappointment. “She’s not my girlfriend. She’s a friend from college, and I brought her here so she could try Roy’s famous food for the first time and change her life forever.”

Several of them chimed in, greeting you after you introduced yourself shyly. Jungkook went to grab a menu for you, and the ladies took it as an opportunity to chat some more with you. “You don’t look like you’re from around here.”

“No, I’m not actually.” You could barely even hear their responses since they all talked over each other, and although you had expected at least some of them to draw conclusions and figure out you were from the other side of town and treat you differently, they all still gave you friendly smiles.

Jungkook came back just in time to save you from more of their questions, thankfully, and brought you up to the counter to order food from the restaurant owner he introduced you to, Roy. You ended up getting a burger with the infamous fries and milkshake Jungkook kept going on about. Over dinner, much of the topic of conversation stayed on you and mostly Jungkook since, as many of his friends implied, he hadn’t visited recently. You ended up loving the atmosphere and how close everyone seemed to be. Even Roy would talk with everyone in between orders, and though you had never met anyone before, everyone was welcoming and open to talk with you. In fact, they were eager to see you and to see that Jungkook “has some friends his own age” as they teased.

You were finally finishing up your milkshake as the sky was just becoming dark, and the restaurant, while still buzzing, had quieted down considerably enough to have a conversation at normal volume. Jungkook had left you sitting at the counter alone while he went to the bathroom, and you couldn’t hold back the smile to yourself thinking about the way he interacted with all these people he seemed to be so close to. You looked up as Roy stood on the other side of the counter from you, cleaning a glass with a towel. “You seem like a great girl. I’m glad Jungkook met someone like you.”

You blushed, expecting him to only make some simple small talk while Jungkook wasn’t around. “Oh… I wouldn’t say it like that.” You laughed nervously, pushing stray hair back out of your face. “We’re only friends. We just talk sometimes.” ‘Sometimes’ was a bit of an understatement you realized, but it seemed most of the people got the impression that you were Jungkook’s girlfriend, which unfortunately wasn’t the case.

“Let me let you in on a little secret. Don’t tell Jungkook I told you this, but he doesn’t bring just anyone here. These people are like his second family, and if he thinks you’re good enough to meet them, then you’re pretty darn special.”

You couldn’t help the butterflies from fluttering in your stomach at the thought. A sudden thought came to you and you bit your lip, wondering if it would be appropriate to ask. You decided it probably wouldn’t hurt, grabbing Roy’s attention once again. “Sorry, you said this is like his second family?” He nodded easily. “Well, if you don’t mind me asking, who’s the first?” You questioned carefully, hoping it wasn’t too forward or prying of you to wonder about such things. You knew that Jungkook’s parents were out of the picture, so you tried to imagine who else he would be close with besides the people in this room.

Roy stayed silent for only a moment before both of you saw in the corner the door to the restrooms swing open and Jungkook wiping his hands dampened from the sink on his shirt. As Jungkook made his way back to take the seat next to you, Roy gave a tight smile and a quick nod to hastily end the conversation. Your forehead creased in confusion, wondering why there had so suddenly been something secretive come up. You smiled as Jungkook came and took his seat next to you again, but you couldn’t quite wipe the puzzlement off your face. “What’s wrong?” Jungkook suddenly asked, throwing his arm over your shoulder, which you were sure was only a product of him being just a little bit tipsy.

“Nothing.” You shook your head.

After Jungkook had walked you home that night, you were met with a very displeased mother. You did stay out a little late, you admit, but you should have that freedom. You’re a fully functioning adult, yet here you are, getting lectured by your mother. Though it wasn’t all bad, especially since you weren’t paying an ounce of attention. Instead you were thinking about Jungkook walking you home just minutes before. He had a few drinks at the diner, so he was a bit more carefree than he was on a usual basis, so the entire way home, you had the pleasure of feeling the warmth of his hand wrapped around yours and for a moment everything felt so real.

And that’s when you realized there was no turning back. Your hand felt empty now that his wasn’t there anymore and there were too many lingering butterflies to be ignored. Again, maybe this is the result of the tiniest bit of alcohol that you’re hoping desperately your mother doesn’t smell on you right now since you were still technically underage.

The thought of your mother ruined it all though. The warm fuzzy feeling became cold as you remember that as long as she had a say, being with Jungkook was out of the question. You could take one look at him and easily see he was the epitome of a boy your mother would never approve of, with his all black clothes and leather jackets, his pierced ears, his dark yet endearing—at least in your eyes—humor. Your mother would keel over if you ever revealed you had feelings for him.

And this was assuming that Jungkook even felt the same way about you. But there had to be something there, right? You felt like with how you easy it was to talk to each other, and how much Jungkook has opened up to you, not to mention those few tender moments that you two never spoke about, it seemed pretty obvious there was something between the two of you. It couldn’t all just be in your head. Though you were still terrified, you came to the conclusion that you would let Jungkook know exactly what you were thinking and see what happens from there.

Making a decision that you would confess to Jungkook did not make it any easier to actually do it. You had never been the one to make the first move in the past, and Jungkook being the person of interest made it even scarier. Jungkook was coming over to your house so you could help him study for English, and your heart was beating erratically while waiting for the doorbell to ring. You couldn’t sit still and eventually began pacing in the living room, and you weren’t even sure if you were going to tell him today. However, today would be a good day, since your mom isn’t home and home is the best place to do it. If he turns you down, there won’t be any public embarrassment. So basically today is the perfect day to do it. So basically you have to do it. You began to pull at your hair in distress when finally the doorbell rang, and you probably answered it way too fast. As Jungkook greeted you, he smirked as he looked at the top of your head, smoothing down the hair that you must have messed up in your panic, and unfortunately you very obviously flinched away from his hand, playing it off with a nervous chuckle.

You silently led him up to your room, and he could most definitely tell that something was going on, but he didn’t say anything to acknowledge it, much to your relief. You let him into your room and closed the door behind you, taking in a deep breath. Luckily, as soon as you start to talk with each other like any other day, you begin to feel comfortable again and you finally feel relaxed.

After about an hour of studying, you take a break and you begin to wonder if this would be the time to say something. You began to go over the small speech you had rehearsed all morning, but before you could get anything out, you watch as Jungkook pulls off his hoodie, and as he does so, the short sleeve of his shirt on his right arm comes up, revealing a black image displayed on his skin which immediately piques your interest. “Wait, what was that?” you asked, tentatively pushing his sleeve up his shoulder to examine the image you had spotted hidden beneath it.

“Nothing,” he replied uninterestedly, brushing your hand away.

You locked gazes with him, wide eyes on display in an attempt to make him cave in. “Well, it’s obviously a tattoo,” you reasoned aloud. “Any special reason?” Had you not had the suspicion that came into your mind, you would have let it be.

He quickly shook his head, breaking away from your curious eyes. “It’s just a tattoo. Nothing special about it.”

Your voice was soft now, and your eyes dropped to examine the lines in the wooden floors of your bedroom. “It’s a gang tattoo, isn’t it?” He only stared back, still with no intention of giving any answers. You figured that would be the reason why he was so apprehensive. Had it been any other tattoo, he probably wouldn’t have had any problem. “It’s okay. You can tell me.”

He briefly exhaled through his nose, and his eyes fluttered shut before he gave a hasty nod. “I’ve told you before. I got mixed up with some bad people when I was younger, but don’t worry, it’s all in the past now.” You were glad he had gotten past it and hoped he was safe and out of that business now as he said he was.

Your gazes were locked on each other’s for far too long and you suddenly remembered what your original goal was, and you now realized you ruined the mood for that to happen. “I’m sorry,” you shook your head. “I shouldn’t have pried.”

“No, it’s okay,” Jungkook reassured softly. “I would have told you before, but I just didn’t want to scare you off.”

Your mouth curved into a small smile, arms hugging your torso. “You couldn’t scare me away. Don’t you know you’re stuck with me?” you joked. You suddenly realized now was the time. You had everything you wanted to say planned out, but now that it came down to it, you panicked and forgot all of it, so you had to say exactly what was on your mind. “Jungkook, you know you mean a lot to me, right? When I say that, I don’t mean as a friend either. I mean it as more than that, I guess.” You stuttered and slipped over your words and began to trail off in your last statement in nervousness, which became full panic as you observed the smile slip from his face.

“_____...” That was all he said before an agonizing amount of silence and out of all the scenarios you had thought up, this was probably the worst of them all. “You don’t mean that.”

“What? Of course I do,” you insisted, reaching out to him, but he only coiled back out of your reach. “Jungkook…”

“No. I’m sorry. I can’t do this.” He tried to walk away from you, but you grabbed onto his arm. You’d accept it and let him go if he had just rejected you, but you could tell something was wrong.

He shook your grip off and picked up his books and stuffed them into his bag in a hurry. “What is wrong with you?” you questioned desperately at his sudden shutdown. Then it all made sense. “That’s it. You’re shutting down again. You can’t stand it when you have to deal with any sort of real emotion.”

He scoffed, “Don’t try reasoning me out of this. I don’t want anyone to depend on me like that, not even you.”

“So, that’s it? You’re just never going to feel anything?” He stopped and looked up to you from his bag, locking eyes, and you hated how they had suddenly become cold and unfamiliar.

“No, _____, I’m not, and that’s why you should just give up on me. I can’t give you what you want. Go find someone else that’s not gonna hurt you.” You didn’t want to watch him walk away. You had no way of knowing what his true feelings were, but you knew that this wasn’t what he needed. He said he didn’t want anyone to depend on him, but in reality, he was afraid to depend on someone else. He didn’t want to put himself in a position to get left behind again, scarred by memories of his mother who had abandoned him.

All you could do was let him figure things out on his own. If he really did love you, then he would find his way back. All you can hope is that you didn’t just lose one of the best things that had ever happened to you. “Okay, if this is how it is, then I’ll let you go. I can’t keep doing this, Jungkook.”

He was already taking large strides out the door to get away as fast as his feet would carry him. “I know,” was all he said. Then he was gone.

It had been a week since Jungkook walked out on you, and you were beginning to lose hope of seeing him again. You would usually give it a bit more time before you began feeling doubtful, but you hadn’t seen nor heard any sign of him.

You laid pathetically alone on your bed on a Saturday night that you should have used to spend time with friends, but you ended up turning down any plans that were offered. You opened your phone and looked through old messages between you and Jungkook, and you began to type a message to ask him how he was doing, but just before you hit send, you ended up erasing it all and throwing your phone back down. As much of a bummer as it was, you decided to take tonight to go to bed and get some extra sleep.

You had already shut off all your lights and tucked yourself into your warm bed when a sudden, echoing knock came from your window, almost scaring you out of your wits. You quickly stumbled out of bed and turned on the lamp that sat on your nightstand, opening the curtains without hesitation because you already knew exactly who would be waiting behind them.

There you saw Jungkook hugging his jacket closer around him in the chilling night winds. This wasn’t the first time he had come to you through your bedroom window. He had done it several times before when he came over and saw your mother’s car parked in the driveway to avoid having to get through her to see you. You unhooked the latch, hurrying him in as he struggled to climb over the window sill. “_____,” he breathed out through chattering teeth. “I’m so sorry.” He pulled you into a crushing hug, burying his face into the hair on top of your head. “I always fuck things up just when they’re starting to go right.”

“It’s okay, Jungkook,” you spoke gently, rubbing his back up and down as he stood still and inhaled your scent for a few moments.

He chuckled breathily. “How can you always forgive me even when I’m such an ass?”

“Because I love you.”

You had pulled away enough so that you could look him in the eyes when you spoke, hopeful that this time it would go right. Jungkook pulled you back to him, mostly so that he could hide his face when he told you, “I love you, too.”

Your mother had dragged you out of the house way too early for a Saturday morning to go shopping with her at all of her favorite designer-brand stores, which was already a shock to you since she hadn’t found time to spend with you in almost four years since she was always so busy with work. Now, out of nowhere, she was having you try on at least a dozen gowns at each stop.

“Okay, mom,” you sighed walking out of the dressing room wearing the last of several dresses she had picked out. “This is the last one.”

She smiled, motioning for you to turn around. “That one looks beautiful, too! Which one did you like the best?”

You turned around, scrutinizing the way the material draped over you in the mirror. “I don’t know. They all look nice.” You turned back to her, finally deciding to question the motive behind her sudden eagerness, hoping it wouldn’t ruin her rarely bright mood. “Why exactly am I looking for a dress?”

She folded her hands in her lap, crossing her legs over each other, meeting your eyes in the mirror. “I wasn’t planning on telling you yet, but I’ll be hosting a gala, and I want you to come.” She looked for some kind of reaction from you, but you only continued to listen, smoothing the skirt of the dress you wore. She cleared her throat. “There will be a lot of young men there, soon to be owners of their parents’ companies. You should try to meet some of them.”

You finally looked back to her reflection in the mirror. “I’ve already met plenty of them,” you pointed out, brows creased in thought. “Is this your way of saying you want me to make connections?” you accused, stressing the word “connections” to imply it may have a different meaning. You heard rumors that big business owners would sometimes send their kids to high class social events hopefully form a relationship with another heir to merge the businesses and increase profit, but you didn’t think it was actually something that happened.

“I’m not saying I want you to do it, but you should be open minded to some of the boys you meet there.” She smiled to try to convince you, standing to speak with you at eye level.

“So, what, you want me to charm them with a pretty dress?” you asked. You scrunched your nose, looking down at the dress that you had once thought was pretty, but after staring for too long, you began to hate it.

“And your wonderful personality,” she joked with a playful pat on your cheek, but you couldn’t find it in you to laugh.

You’d met all these heirs to wealthy businesses before, and you knew that they weren’t interested in your personality. They weren’t looking for any sort of relationship, they were either looking for connections or a good time, and when it came to the unfortunate girls at these parties, they were usually stuck with the latter. And as spoiled rich kids, they didn’t like to be told no, which made you even more nervous than you already were.

You walked back into the dressing room, peeling off the itchy material of the dress you had to wear for far too long due to the unexpected news that had been broken to you. When you put back on the t-shirt dress and sneakers you had originally been wearing, you stared at yourself in the mirror for a moment. You began to think you liked yourself much better this way. You knew Jungkook liked you better this way. You bit back a smile at the thought of him, and it finally occurred to you that your mother didn’t even know that you and Jungkook were officially… whatever you were. You hadn’t really addressed it yet since that night. You did know, however, that you loved each other, but your mother wanted to send you into a room full of men you probably couldn’t trust. You began to wonder about what would happen if you brought Jungkook to the gala with you. Your mother would be furious, but you would feel so much safer. Though, you didn’t even know if Jungkook had any interest in going.

You heard a knock on the door, zoning you back into reality and making you realize you had been staring into the mirror in thought. “Are you ready?” you heard your mother’s voice calling from the other side.

“Coming,” you answered.

Jungkook had come over in the afternoon for what was supposed to be getting help from you for English, but when he actually arrived and you told him to get his books out, he didn’t even have his bookbag with them, so he claimed he “forgot” it. You knew he was lying, though. Jungkook had trouble with being direct. He always had to have some sort of excuse to see you rather than just wanting to spend time with you. You knew he actually cared behind all of this, though, but for now you would just have to learn how to interpret his roundabout methods.

Since he coincidentally didn’t bring his materials to study, he ended up laying down next to you in your place in bed, opting for just talking for a while. Jungkook had been looking around your room that he had practically memorized by now since he’d seen it so often, making it easy to spot any little change. He saw an extra framed picture on your nightstand of you and who he was positive was your father. He pointed it out, “That’s new.”

You looked over your shoulder to follow his line of sight and your eyes landed on the object of interest. “Yeah. I found that in a box a few days ago and decided to frame it and put it up.” You smiled at him, but it didn’t hold up for long as you engrossed yourself in thought.

“What?” Jungkook asked, looking down at you as a frown deepened on your face.

You shook your head. “Nothing.” You looked back at it one last time before turning back to him and grabbing his hand to fiddle with his fingers while admitting slowly, “I can’t even remember what his voice sounds like.”

“Don’t you have any videos where you can hear his voice?”

You nodded faintly. “I’m sure we have some somewhere, but I’d have to go looking for them myself. I don’t wanna bring my mom into it. She gets really upset when he’s brought up.”

“If it means getting to hear his voice, then you should just ask her. She can’t keep it from you, and you can’t let her pretend it never happened.” He was obviously letting his bias towards you affect his solution, but you remember clearly what happens to your mother whenever she hears about him, and although you two didn’t always get along, you would never purposefully do that to her.

Also, to be honest, you were shocked that Jungkook had even said what he had. You barely laughed, lacking humor, “Should I even take that advice from you?”

Jungkook’s lips turned down and his forehead creased. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You had a feeling this was leading into an argument you really weren’t looking to have, especially judging by his already irritable tone of voice. “I mean that you’re a prime example of ignoring the past,” you said as you tried to keep your voice even to remain peaceful without making him upset.

Jungkook sat up in the bed and you sighed, immediately regretting even bringing this up. “How have I ever done that? I fully acknowledge everything that’s happened to me.”

“It’s not that you choose to ignore the past itself, Jungkook, but you ignore the…” you paused to look for the right words as he waited impatiently, “the emotions you should be feeling from it.”

He scoffed, pushing himself off the bed, and he unintentionally rose his voice. “Who are you to tell me how I’m supposed to feel?”

“I’m not saying anything like that, Jungkook!” You began to shout as well, but you stopped yourself to control the volume of your voice, finishing calmly, “I’m just saying it’s okay to be sad.”

Jungkook held your gaze for a moment before shaking his head violently and dropping his eyes to the floor. “I’m not sad,” he spat.

You watched as he evened his breathing, fists clenching and unclenching by his sides. “Alright,” you gave in. “If you say you aren’t sad, then I’ll believe you.” You knew he was lying not only to you, but to himself, but you let it go, not wanting to argue with him anymore. You stood up, brushing his bangs away that hung down in his eyes, pulling him to sit back down next to you on the edge of the bed. You brought a hand to his cheek to lift his face to meet your eyes. “I want to ask you something, and I know it may be asking a lot from you, so feel free to turn me down.”

He waited patiently for what you had to say, and you thought for one moment, still nervous at the prospect of him actually agreeing. “My mom is hosting this gala,” you explained, “and I was wondering if you wanted to go with me.”

He squinted his eyes at you, finding it hard to believe you would even ask him about something like that. “You want me to go to a gala with you? That your mom is hosting?” You nod silently in return, though you can easily see where he’s coming from. “I don’t think that’s a good idea…”

“I know it’s not exactly your scene, but, if I’m honest, I’m a little worried about it. My mom wants me to make connections with some of the young heirs there. They’re not the most trustworthy people, though. I just think I would feel a lot better if you were there.” You looked up to him nervously in hopes that he would understand what you were trying to say. With the way his jaw tightened, you were certain he had gotten the point.

He swallowed, placing a comforting hand on your thigh and agreeing softly, “Okay. I’ll be there for you.”

Later that night, you both decided you would go out to eat at Roy’s again because Jungkook was right, that was the best fries and milkshake you had ever tasted. It still made you nervous to go into the more dangerous side of the city, but nothing happened last time, and with Jungkook there, you had nothing to worry about. However, your fears suddenly returned to you when you heard someone from behind you shout, “Jeon!”

Jungkook quickly grabbed onto your hand as you both turned around. They didn’t look threatening when you turned around. In fact, they were around your age and you began to think they may have been friends of Jungkook. The same one who had called out to him spoke again, “Your dad called an emergency meeting. Another gang’s been looking to take some of our territory.”

You froze. You must not have heard that right. You felt Jungkook stiffen beside you, too. “What did he just say?” you mumbled.

Jungkook stared ahead wordlessly, his lips pressed into a thin line. That’s when you knew you heard exactly what you thought you did. Your lip curled up in anger and you shouted, “You lied to me! You’re in a gang!” Your eyes filled to the brim with tears, but you tried not to let them fall. You repeated, “You lied to me, didn’t you?”

Jungkook swallowed, knowing there was no way he could get himself out of this. He let the silence boil in an angry pot for a long while before he found his voice again. “Yeah, I did,” he breathed, nodding slowly.

You turned your face away from him, hesitant to ask what was on the tip of the tongue because you were terrified of what his answer may be. “What’s the name?” you barely choked out, but when he only stuttered as an answer, you screamed at him, “Was it your gang that killed my dad?”

“We’re not like that, _____. He was kicked out as soon as we found out.”

He confirmed exactly what you were afraid of. You knew the emblem you had seen on his shoulder seemed familiar for a reason. You felt sick. You felt betrayed. The tears you had been holding back were now free falling down your face. “You knew? You knew the whole time and you didn’t tell me?” You roughly pushed at his chest, but he barely moved an inch.

He reached out for you before retracting his hand right away. “I didn’t want this to happen.” You didn’t want to hear his excuses. You didn’t even want to see his face right now. You just needed to get away. When you turned on your heel, he called out your name, but you didn’t listen. When he tried to go after you, the men who came to get him held him back and hurried him away. He tried to fight to push past them, but he knew that if he chased after you, you would only hate him even more.

By the time you arrived home, you could barely even stand. You hadn’t even realized how much you were shaking, how violently your sobs had been wracking through you. When you reached the safety of solitude within your bedroom, you leaned on the post of your bed and sunk to the floor, burying your head in your hands. You weren’t sure how long you had stayed like that.

You heard a soft tap at your window and, knowing exactly who it came from, you pretended as if you didn’t hear it. Then Jungkook’s voice came quietly through the closed window, “Please let me in, _____.”

“Go away!” you shouted, not even moving to see his face. He didn’t leave though. Instead he kept tapping, which became impatient knocking, becoming louder and louder. You stood up and walked to the window and the sound finally ceased as he let out a sigh, but instead of unlocking the window like he had expected, you pulled the curtains closed and walked back to sit on your bed, staring emptily at the wall.

You could hear him growl in frustration. “Don’t make me break this goddamn window, _____!” you heard him scream from the other side of the curtains. You only shook your head and tried to ignore him until he left, but you jumped when you heard the crescendo of pounding on the glass, becoming more forceful by the second.

You hurriedly rushed to your feet again to open the curtains, only to be met with Jungkook repeatedly driving his fist into the glass. “You’re insane!” you cried out. You quickly unhooked the latch that kept him locked outside in fear that he would really form a crack in the glass. He immediately pushed through and took your face into his hands, pulling you close. “Get away from me!” You frantically fought, pulling his hands away from you and trying to put distance between you.

He placed his forehead against yours, whispering, “_____, please listen to me. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry.” You suddenly ran out of energy to continue fighting him, but you still kept a grip on his wrists as his hands still rested on each side of your face. Your sobs didn’t cease, however, and he slowly slid his hands down to wrap around your waist and bring you into his chest, pressing his lips to the top of your head as you reluctantly melted into him in exhaustion. “Please forgive me.”

“Jungkook,” you breathed weakly.

He stopped you quickly, reminding you of a conversation the two of you had in the past. “You’ve said it yourself before. You know that I’m nothing like that man.”

“Of course I know that.” You shook your head before you pulled away from him, but he wouldn’t let you go far enough to where he had to let you go. “I’m angry because you kept this from me. You knew it was something I needed to know, but you kept it to yourself anyway.”

He sighed and he was about to plead for you to forgive him once more, but the vibration of his phone is his pocket brought his words to a halt. You saw that he immediately became worried when he read the caller ID and answered the call without hesitation. You couldn’t make out the words on the other end, but the way his face contorted in worry let you know that it was bad news. He ended the call with a quick affirmative and when he hung up, he looked frantic. “Shit,” he hissed. “There’s an emergency back at home. I’ll come back later tonight, though. We aren’t finished here,” he promised, already making his way back outside.

You woke up the next morning surprised that you had ever been able to fall asleep. You hadn’t even bothered trying to fall asleep the night before since you knew that if Jungkook said he was coming back, then he was coming back. But he never did return, which worried you. You didn’t want to care, but no matter how hard you tried to hate him, the fact that he never actually came back made you think something bad happened, and that scared you. You tried texting him early in the morning, several hours after he had left, but now even after you had slept and woke up again, you still received no response, which was extreme even for him.

Knowing all that you knew about him now, you could only assume the worst, especially since you had heard about the apparent emergency that he had gone to take care of. You rushed to get yourself ready to go out and look for him only to be stopped when you realized you had no idea where you should be looking. Of course your first instinct was his home, but you didn’t actually know where that was. You found it hard to believe you hadn’t realized until now how much you still didn’t know about Jungkook. So, you went to the only place you knew of where you could find any sort of hint of where to find him.

You pushed through the heavy door that led into Roy’s diner, immediately met with several heads whipping your way to get a look at the visitor. Since it was the morning, there were far fewer people than there had been the first time you came, but you saw several familiar faces, including Roy himself. You walked in nervously, feeling a little out of place now that Jungkook wasn’t by your side, which everyone was quick to notice. “Do you know where Jungkook is?” asked one of the older men that he had been talking to during your previous visit.

“That’s the problem,” you sighed. “He left last night saying it was an emergency and I haven’t seen him since. He isn’t answering his phone either.” You shook your head, looking down at your phone one more time, hoping to be proven wrong. The news even made Roy stop what he was doing behind the counter to listen, worrying just like the rest of them. They all shared concerned, knowing glances.

Roy approached you slowly, setting his towel down, explaining, “We heard news early this morning that there was a dispute between gangs.” You waited impatiently for him to continue. You figured that much already. “Jungkook’s father was killed.”

The breath left your lungs and you now understood why he didn’t return. You knew him well enough to know that he must be out there somewhere trying to deal with what he’s feeling, and from what you knew about him, he probably wasn’t coping well. Now you had to make sure he was okay. “Tell me where I might be able to find him.”

They tried to convince you to let someone else look for him and find him knowing he might not be in a good state, but you insisted that you would find him yourself. They gave in finally and mentioned several places he visited frequently, one of them being his home address, which you were thankful they trusted you enough to give to you, and you decided you would start there. You entered the address into your phone for directions since you had no idea how to navigate in this area of the city. Finally, you came to the house that the map had led you to, and it was a house just like any other that you had been passing for the past few minutes. You weren’t sure why you were expecting anything different.

When you carefully knocked on the front door, it creaked open ever so slightly from the little bit of force you gave. You pushed it open just a slight bit more, calling Jungkook’s name, hoping to find him inside. You received no answer though, which prompted you to take a tentative step inside as you pray that you got the right house and you weren’t accidentally walking into a stranger’s home.

Only a few steps in and you heard the crunch of glass underneath your shoe, and you looked down to find a picture that had fallen of the wall and smashed onto the floor. When you took a closer look, you saw a boy with familiar round eyes and you knew you were in the right house. As soon as you rounded the corner, however, you see that the living room and the kitchen had been trashed and torn to shreds, displaying a mess of broken glass and papers and trash scattered across the floors. Suddenly you suspected that the picture by the front door hadn’t fallen by accident.

After you had called out for Jungkook several more times, you concluded he wasn’t in the house. You began to look through your small list of other possible locations while leaving the house and carefully pulling the door shut behind you. You stopped in your tracks just as you reached the bottom stair when you heard a familiar voice, and after you searched, you found just who you had been looking for. Only, you weren’t expecting him to be threateningly pinning someone up against a wall.

You approached quietly, listening for what you hoped would be an explanation. You saw Jungkook had pinned a man by the collar of his shirt to the outside wall of a building in an alleyway just on the other side of the road from his house. “Are you one of them?” he screamed, interrogating the terrified man.

“One of who?” the poor man questioned, fighting Jungkook’s grip, though you were surprised he couldn’t escape given Jungkook only used a single hand.

Jungkook bared his teeth in rage. “The bastards that killed my father!” You approached slowly, calculating the best way to deal with Jungkook while he was in such a fragile state. Though your knowledge about this was limited, you knew for sure that this man had no gang affiliations just by looking at him and how he seemed as if he hadn’t fought once in his entire life. Throwing a beer bottle down, smashing it to pieces that violently scattered causing both you and the man to flinch away, Jungkook cried out, “I promise I’ll obliterate every single one of them!”

You took the chance to lurch forward and firmly take hold of his arm, hoping to bring him down from his rampage. Jungkook’s head snapped to you and the man used this distraction to escape his grip and make a run for it. Jungkook noticed and wanted to push past you and chase after him, but you blocked his path, though he kept fighting to pass you, blinded by rage and, from what you could smell in his breath, intoxication. “Please, Jungkook, calm down! I know your pain, trust me, but this isn’t the right way to handle it! Let me help you!” you tried reasoning with him.

He pushed your hands off of him, backing away. “Who said I wanted your help? Who said I wanted you to force yourself into my life and try to fix everything?” he spat. You shook your head in disbelief. “I’m perfectly fine! What makes you think I need to be saved?”

“Jungkook, I know you don’t mean that.”

“I do!” he shouted. His shoulders heaved and then the tension in his face began to melt. “I…” He spoke more unsurely now. Then he had dropped himself onto his knees, hands pounding into the ground. Worried he was hurt, you slid down beside him only for his arms to wrap tightly around your waist. His face buried into the crook of your neck and he began to sob. You were worried and you hurt for him, yet somehow you were also relieved knowing that he was finally able to let go of the idea that he had to always be strong. You soothingly ran your fingers through his hair as you let him stay there for however long he needed. “He’s gone,” he choked out weakly.

Jungkook never told you much about his father. In fact, he said that he didn’t see him much and that they weren’t close. You couldn’t tell if that had been another lie to keep you from knowing the truth or if that had been true and he felt this way purely from the fact that he had lost both of his parents now. Either way, you could tell he was broken. “It’s okay,” you whispered.

“Promise me that you’ll stay with me, _____.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” you assured him. There you both sat, in the middle of an alley, where Jungkook finally shed what very well could have been his first tear, and you knew that he needed you.

After seeing the state his house was in, you figured it wasn’t the best idea to let him return there alone for fear he might go off the rails again, so you let him come with you. You weren’t sure whether your mother would be home or if she would ever even notice if you kept him up in your room, but you were willing to face whatever she had to say if she were to find out, knowing this was about your only option. You had to support him on the way as he drunkenly stumbled through the streets at midday.

When you finally arrived home with him and led him up to your room, he collapsed in exhaustion on your bed. You looked over him in concern for a moment before sighing as you combed your fingers through his hair. You figured you would get him some water for when he woke up since he had consumed so much alcohol, but when you tried to leave his hand wrapped around your wrist and pulled you back to him. “Don’t leave,” he mumbled. You glanced back at the door, but you ultimately decided to follow his request and stay with him.

You sat down beside where he laid, pulling your wrist out of his grip and sliding your hand into his to hold it comfortingly. You saw a hint of red on his face and squinted to get a better look, but you had to gently nudge his face to get him to turn to you from where he had it buried in the sheets to block out the light. You saw his lip was letting out a fair amount of blood and you began to get up to clean it up, ignoring his groan of protest as you left his side.

You came back with a cold, wet rag to press to his lip to stop the bleeding. You sighed, giving his body a once-over, seeing clearly he was in bad shape, both physically and emotionally. You set the rag aside again after a moment and went back to softly stroking his head. You whispered to him, though you were sure he was too far gone in sleep to listen to you by now, “Please don’t do this to yourself again. Please don’t do something reckless and get hurt.”

To your surprise his eyes barely fluttered open at your words before they closed once again, but he exhaled heavily, assuring you, “I won’t. I promise.”

When you woke up the next morning, the bed had been significantly colder than it had when you went to sleep. As you blinked the sleep out of your eyes, you realized it was because Jungkook was no longer there, sleeping beside you with you wrapped in his arms like he had been when you fell asleep. He must have left sometime in the middle of the night. You couldn’t help but feel a little worried. You weren’t sure of he had completely sobered up yet, so you worried if he had gotten home safely or not. You called him, but he didn’t pick up. Then you texted him to ask where he was, thinking he probably wouldn’t answer that either, but to your surprise, he did. Although, all he said was ‘Don’t worry. I’m fine. I’m gonna be busy today.’ You knew something was going on, already, but you were immediately afraid for him when he followed with, ‘I love you.’

That was unlike him. He was possibly the least straightforward person you knew, so he only said that when he felt like he absolutely had to. And you were afraid of why he thought he had to tell you so suddenly.

Before you could barrage him with questions, you heard the bell ring at your front door, so you went to answer, hoping for some reason that it would be him. When you opened the door, it wasn’t Jungkook, but instead it was the man who had called Jungkook for the meeting and ultimately revealed the truth about him. He cleared his throat. “May I come in for a moment?” You hesitantly stepped back, opening the way fully for him to enter. “I suppose I should introduce myself. I’m Namjoon. I’m a member of Jungkook’s gang.” He said quickly, lowering his voice at the last phrase. He seemed to be rushing through the formalities to get to the real reason he had come. “Have you seen Jungkook?”

The question took you by surprise. You had been hoping to ask him the same question, but since he didn’t know either, your nerves were anything but calmed. “No. When I asked him where he was, he texted me saying he was busy and not to worry about it.” You thought for a moment, licking your dried lips. “He sounded off, though.”

Namjoon nodded attentively. “I see. There’s a good chance my suspicions are correct, then,” he speculated, pacing noticeably.

“What suspicions?” You were almost afraid to ask. It was easy to see that Namjoon was tense, so you knew that it couldn’t be good news.

“I think he’s going to try to get revenge for his father.” Your jaw went slack in shock. “I think he wants to kill that gang’s leader.”

“What? What if he gets hurt?”

Namjoon exhaled slowly, rubbing his chin as he spoke, “If that’s the case, he’ll be going up against several members before getting to the leader, so the likelihood is high.”

Your heart dropped in your chest. What was he thinking going up against so many people all on his own? You began to panic. “Well, what are you doing here? Someone needs to go help him or stop him or something!”

Namjoon said with the tap on the screen on his phone, “I’m already on it. I’m sending backup for him right now. I’ll be going too.” He was already taking large strides to the door when he quickly turned back around to you. “Keep the doors locked and don’t answer the door unless either me or Jungkook have told you to,” he warned before shutting the door behind him.

Somehow his warning made you even more nervous. You were sure you had nothing to worry about for yourself since you were far away from where all the action would take place, but it clearly meant that he thought these people were dangerous. And Jungkook was going to face them all alone. You just hoped that his backup got there fast enough.

You had been trying to shake the thoughts out of your head for far too long until you began to feel cramped within the walls of your own home. Though you were aware of Namjoon’s advice, you decided to walk for a bit to clear your head and to get some fresh air. Surely no one wanting to hurt you would be brave enough to cross the river to the highly-secured side of the city. You had been wandering for a while, not paying much attention to where exactly you were going and instead following wherever your feet carried you as you watched the petals fall from the cherry blossoms in order to distract yourself.

Eventually you found yourself stopping just before the bridge. Just a few more steps and you could be crossing over to get Jungkook out of his mess once again, but he said it himself. It wasn’t up to you to save him. He’s going to be okay, you assured yourself. With eyes still glued to the opposite end of the bridge, you turned around to walk back home.

As you began the walk back home, you thought you saw a shadow of someone behind you, but when you turned no one had been there. You were sure it was only your imagination, but now you were starting to wish you had stayed at home as your nerves began to act up. You took up a quicker pace, finally deciding you were safe after you were walking with no interruption for a few minutes. Just as you were calming down, you jumped as the ringer of your phone blared in the thick silence of the streets. You breathed in relief as you brought it out of your pocket and read your mother’s name displayed on the screen.

“Hello?” you answered. She was asking where you were since you had told her you would be home for dinner with her. “Don’t worry, Mom. I’m coming home right n—” Your words were smothered by the gloved hand that latched itself over your mouth. You tried to tug yourself free and cry out for help, but your arms were only swatted away and your phone tumbled to the ground still on call with your mother. You frantically swung your feet in attempts to escape, but they were swept out from under you and you fell to the ground, your head hitting the pavement and darkening your vision until you lost consciousness.

Your head was pounding when you finally gained some awareness again. You could tell there were voices around you, but they were difficult to discern since your groggy state made everything sound muffled as if you were underwater, with the way it was muddled in your brain. It took a while to finally come to, but when you did, you could finally make out one of the voices as the very one you had been waiting for. When your eyes came into focus, you could make out Jungkook standing across a large room from you, pointing his gun at something to your right. You tried to turn your head to look despite the shooting pain in your neck from how you head hung down unnaturally. Your eyes met an unfamiliar man, also holding his own gun, but instead of pointing it back at Jungkook, it was directed at you. You tried to moved, but your limbs were bound to the chair you sat in.

You gulped, realizing the situation, most of your mind’s fogginess disappearing. “Look who’s finally decided to join us,” he observed, smiling sinisterly in your direction.

Jungkook briefly met your panicked eyes, but he diverted back to the man keeping a stone cold expression. “How did you find her?”

“You’re very reckless. How do you expect to take your father’s place?” At that remark, Jungkook’s grip tightened on his pistol and bared his teeth in anger. His finger twitched on the trigger and he was going to give in, but when the gun in the man’s hand was pushed closer to your temple, he brought the gun back down slightly in order to stop him from hurting you. The older man only chuckled. “You had such great potential to become a cold-blooded killer, an unstoppable machine, but instead you hold yourself back with these distractions.” The man tilted his head in indication of you as said “distraction.”

“The only person I’m looking to kill is you.”

“Are you sure you want to say that to me right now?” he asked, teeth bared and all easiness void from his tone. The mouth of the gun was now pushed harshly into your temple and you squeezed your eyes shut with a sharp intake of breath. Only a moment later, though, you no longer felt its the cold metal on your skin and you saw he had lowered it out of the corner of your eye. His face took on another chilling smirk. “You know, I could go ahead and kill her now… but then again, she would make an awfully pretty prize.”

Jungkook was fuming and, raising the gun once more and taking a risky step forward, he growled, “Don’t fucking touch her!” The man only stared back at him daringly, analyzing his every movement, the way his feet faltered in their placement on the ground, his hand just barely shook as he held out his gun. There was no way he would risk anything as long as you were in danger.

Suddenly there was a faint shuffle somewhere within the walls of the large warehouse you were held in and everything went silent as everyone went on alert, listening carefully. Suddenly, you flinched and your heart beat erratically as a gunshot ran through your ears, and it took a moment of panic to realize it hadn’t been directed at you. You turned to the side, seeing the man had dropped his gun and grabbed onto his arm in pain. His groan of pain was cut short by yet another bullet lodging into his thigh, causing his leg to give out on him and he fell to the ground.

Then a crowd of men came from the direction of the bullets, led by Namjoon who had been placing a handgun back into his waistband. Jungkook ran over to you to free you from the ropes that held you down, pulling out a switchblade from his pocket and cutting you free. When all of the ropes around you fell loosely to the floor you wrapped your arms around him, feeling his heart beating rapidly. He pulled away and his eyes travelled to your forehead. He carefully reached out to touch it and when his fingers barely brushed your skin, a pain shot through your skull. You brought your own hand up and felt what must have been dried blood. You hadn't even realized that had been there, but you deduced it must have been from when you fell to the ground during your kidnapping.

Jungkook lifted you out of the chair hastily with Namjoon by his side when commotion broke out in the back of the building. More men poured in from where Namjoon and the others had come, but they had their guns pointed at Jungkook’s men. Your feet slowed in their movements as you realized they were going to fight the men who had come to save you. Jungkook tugged you ahead and consoled you, telling you they would be fine, gesturing to the reinforcements coming in once Namjoon opened the front doors. As they passed by Jungkook, you figured they must be on his side. Taking once more glance back, you saw the other men retreating and dropping their guns as the soon realized they were far outnumbered and you briefly glanced at the leader who was still shuffling on the ground with his wounded leg. Jungkook had seen this, too, as he picked up his speed with you right beside him. You heard a gunshot go off and Jungkook roughly pushed you out the door. When you looked back inside as the three of you had finally reached safety outside, you saw no one else who had been injured, so you assumed everyone was safe.

You breathed heavily as the adrenaline began to wear off and your head began pounding because of your injury. You breathed a sigh of relief when you finally caught your breath, believing the three of you had successfully reached safety, but you were quickly brought back to panic as Jungkook roughly leaned into the wall and let himself slide down to the ground, clutching his side. He hissed, lifting his hand and finding it stained crimson. You gasped and slid down next to him, Namjoon crouching beside you and examining the wound. You had been wrong when you thought that the gunshot had missed its target. No, it had hit exactly who it was aimed at, and that was Jungkook. A few men who had been in one of the many black vans parked outside the building came running over, carefully lifting Jungkook up from the ground and placing him in the back of the the van they had come from with a man with medical supplies waiting inside.

You followed behind them and stepped into the van when they set Jungkook down, not bothering to stop and wonder if they would even let you, but they did. The man grabbed scissors out of the case and cut open Jungkook’s shirt, blood seeping through the white material at an alarming rate. HIs shirt was pulled back to reveal the ragged gash in his side, and you had to look away. You found his hand in yours, however, and he squeezed it tight which felt like reassurance to you, but it was most likely because of the pain.

After a while of you silently staring out the window and Jungkook every so often hissing in pain, the bullet was removed and his torso was wrapped in a bandage. You finally looked back at him, relieved to see the job looked to be well done. Jungkook tried to readjust himself into a sitting position but immediately regretted it, groaning lowly and letting himself back down to lay where he had been before. You brushed your fingertips over the back of his hand and sighed as you watched his brows twitch.

Your head whipped towards the doors as Namjoon swung them open and climbed inside the back, sitting on the opposite side of Jungkook’s legs. He looked down at him with a frown pulling at the corners of his lips. His eyes hardened as they were suddenly directed at you, and the unpleasant frown took full form when he met your eyes. “I told you to stay inside!” Namjoon scolded. “That was all you had to do, but then you just had to get yourself caught.”

Jungkook, who still looked fairly worn out, did not miss Namjoon’s comment. “What?” he questioned, looking at you, and under his stare you couldn’t keep guilt from bubbling up to the surface. “You knew what going on and you still put yourself in danger?” Your lips pressed together in a tight line. His voice that was still weak, but you could tell he was trying to raise it.

You huffed, retorting, “What was I supposed to do? You had me so worried! Jungkook, you told me just last night that you wouldn’t do something reckless and get yourself killed! Then I found out you were going on some crazy revenge mission. You lied to me! Again! How long are you going to keep this up, Jungkook?”

“I’ll keep it up however long it takes! Be honest, _____. If I had told you what you wanted to know, would that have changed anything? No! You still would have done something stupid!” His fists had tightened and the veins in his arms protruded.

“Why are you getting mad at me?”

“Because you almost got yourself killed, that’s why!” His hand wrapped tightly around your wrist, not enough to be painful, but it held you securely. His hands shook and you just now realized how fearful his face appeared. His voice lost its momentum and lowered to just above a whisper, “I don’t know what I would have done if I lost you today. I can’t let anything happen to you.” You could only swallow at his words, rubbing a thumb over the back of his hand that was still clasped onto your own. He sighed, defeated and resigning, “I know I shouldn’t have lied. I’m sorry.”

“But that’s the thing. You keep doing it. You keep lying because you think you have to, but you don’t! Please don’t lie to me anymore. There’s nothing you have to hide from me anymore.” He bit the inside of his cheek and looked away.

That was the last of what you said to him. He couldn’t promise you that the lies would stop. You weren’t sure if that meant he still didn’t trust you or that you couldn’t trust him. You were in too deep for that, though. It’s not easy to give your heart away to someone without trusting them with your life. You tried to relieve your thoughts plaguing your mind through a deep heave of a sigh as you quietly closed the front door behind you. Your mother came running to the door at the sound. You thought she’d be at work.

She pulled you into a crushing hug before pulling away and inspecting the bandage that had been put on your head and interrogating, “Why did you disappear all of a sudden? And what happened to your head?”

You pulled her hands away. “Mom, I’m fine. I’m okay.”

“No, _____, you have to tell me what happened. I heard that over the phone! You can’t tell me nothing happened!” she rambled frantically, cutting you off once again before you could even anwer her. “I was so worried, you know that! I even sent the police out to look for you! Can you imagine how scared I was when they brought back your cell phone they found lying in the street, but they said there was no sign of you anywhere around it?” She slammed your phone down on the kitchen table without breaking eye contact with you. You could see her eyes become shiny.

You looked away and hesitated to give her an answer. “There were some problems… But I swear I’m alright. Jungkook—”

“I knew it!” she burst out. “I knew this had something to do with him! I’ve always known being around him would put you in danger!” You tried to speak up in his defense but she stopped you with a motion of her hand. “Do you know how hard I’ve worked since your father’s been gone to keep us at the top? I only want to give you the life you want, but you’re ready to throw your life away for some low life boy off the streets!”

You screamed back in retaliation, “Don’t say that about him!” She gave you that look that she always does when you raise your voice at her, but this time instead of cowering away, you used her stunned silence to say what you’d wanted to say for far too long. “Do you really think I care about the money? I couldn’t care less if I didn’t have this big house or these expensive clothes! I just want my mom back.” She was still silent to your surprise and the tension between her angry eyebrow faltered only slightly.

Her voice was much more level now as she turned away and pinched the bridge of her nose, “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay away from him.” She made her way out of the kitchen, only stopping once more in the doorway, looking over her shoulder. “Please. I can’t lose you, too.”

Your shoulders slumped with your labored sigh as you watched her retreating back. You didn’t miss her trembling lip. You supposed you never thought too hard on the emotional toll that encumbered your mother throughout this situation. In no way was she innocent, but you, too, were far from being in the right. Maybe you had been the selfish one all along, you thought, making your way up the stairs to your bedroom with guilt weighing heavily on your shoulders. You found the dress you had finally decided on for the gala laid out on your bed. You rubbed the soft fabric between the pads of your fingers in thought. What were you thinking, asking Jungkook to come to the gala with you? Neither him nor your mother wanted that. It was only what you wanted.

You picked up your phone and quickly called his number without another thought. After several rings too many, the line on the other end connected. “_____?” he answered, his voice sounded gruff and exhausted.

“You weren’t asleep were you?” you worried. He made a small grunt which you were sure was supposed to mean no, but you knew it wasn’t true. He needed to rest to heal, after all. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to see how you were doing.”

“I’m doing alright... Better.”

“That’s good,” you said, trying to make your way into the subject you had called about. “Listen, you probably forgot about it by now...”

“The gala’s on Saturday. I know. I promise I’ll be there, don’t worry.”

“Actually, I was going to say that you probably shouldn’t go.” You gnawed at your bottom lip, waiting, as it was suddenly silent on his end.

“Why?” he finally asked, sounding more aware and perturbed than you would have expected.

“Well, you need to heal. It would just be better if you didn’t go.”

“I’ve healed in less than a week before. I’ll be fine.” You didn’t say anything. He was suddenly so determined to go with you after you practically had to beg him when you first told him about it. “Why don’t you want me to go?” You could hear the frown on his face. You couldn’t understand why he was getting so upset.

You gave a weak chuckle in hopes to lighten the mood. “Why do you want to go so badly all of a sudden?”

He ignored your question. “Did your mom say something?” You clicked your tongue in response, but he knew you well enough to know that meant that you didn’t want to answer the question. He chuckled dryly. “Are you serious? I thought you weren’t gonna let your mom stop you from doing what you want from now on.”

“I know, but this is… different,” you found yourself whispering into the phone. It suddenly felt like you were talking behind your mother’s back.

“Oh, then what is it? Is it because you’re too embarrassed to be seen with me by all the rich heirs?” He now carried an accusatory tone. He always had a bad habit of jumping to conclusions.

“Of course not! You’re being ridiculous!”

“Then why don’t you want me to go?”

“I’ve just... been insensitive to my mom. I just don’t think it’s the best idea.”

“Insensitive to her? Have you forgotten how wonderfully she treated me?”

You’d had it then, groaning as you hung up the call. You threw your phone down on the bed and went to get changed in the bathroom. You heard your phone vibrate from its place on the bed and you could just barely make out Jungkook’s name across the top of the screen, but you didn’t make a move to answer it. It took three more missed calls until he finally gave up.

It was a petty, stupid fight, and yet it was Saturday and you hadn’t heard from him since your last phone call. You tried to tell yourself you were just giving him time to rest and recover, but in reality, you just couldn’t bring yourself to say anything to him. You wondered if he regretted it as much as you did.

The nerves fluttering in your stomach as you thought about the gala you were getting ready for made you begin to regret telling Jungkook not to go with you. You lightly brushed your fingers through your styled hair and took one last look in the mirror, scrutinizing the way the dress hung on your body. It wasn’t nearly as pretty as it had seemed before. It looked duller and you wished the skirt wasn’t so plain and lifeless. You weren’t sure what you had seen in it in the first place. You heard your mother call for you from the first floor, and on your way down you checked your phone one last time, but you still saw no notifications with Jungkook’s name on them.

You followed your mother into the limousine that drove you to the venue the gala would take place in, watching as you drove by the entrance to the bridge, wondering what Jungkook was doing on the other side. The rushing waters of the river seemed wider than ever.

You arrived at the gala much faster than you had hoped and found that many guests had already arrived. You walked in beside your mother, receiving several greetings and warm smiles, some looking more genuine than others. You made your rounds for a while, chatting with some of the other heiresses your age that you had known for years because of events just like these.

Eventually the crowd started to loosen up and the gala became more of a social gathering than a business meeting as most of the guests had already gone through a few glasses of wine. You chose to opt out of having any alcohol, though part of you wanted nothing more than to get drunk so the night would go by faster. After you finally got a break from conversation, you excused yourself and went down the hallway to the bathroom where it was much quieter and less crowded. You tried to pass by a man that you barely paid any mind to, but he reached out for your arm to grab your attention. “_____?” You turned and found that the face of the man that said your name was one that you were sure you had seen before, yet you couldn’t put a name to the face. “I’ve been looking around for you all night!”

You returned his charming grin with a polite nod of your head. “Oh yeah! I was wondering if I would see you tonight.” You were lying through your teeth and you were hoping it wasn’t painfully obvious.

“You’ve grown up quite a bit since I saw you last,” he said, looking you up and down. You chuckled nervously as his eyes lingered just a hair too long, especially now that you could smell the strong scent of alcohol on his breath after he had taken a step closer to you. “You know, we’re both set up to take over pretty powerful companies. I think we should try to get to know each other more—”

You frowned stepping back to regain your preferred personal space. “I’m sorry. That’s not something I’m looking for.”

You began to walk away, but his loud, gruff voice followed you, “You really shouldn’t cut someone off when they’re speaking! I think you should show me a little bit more respect!” He glared at you, clearly waiting for something, though you weren’t sure if what he wanted was an apology or just for you to say yes to him.

“And I think you’ve had too much to drink and that you’re a self-entitled prick,” you retorted. “I think you should get back to the party and leave me alone.”

He growled as you brushed past him, and he started to pursue you, but he was stopped short by a voice coming from behind both of you. “Hey. You heard her, man. Get out of here,” the voice ordered. You turned around to find Jungkook dressed in a suit and tie and with a flower in hand. The man only observed him incredulously until Jungkook sneered at him, making him finally give up and leaving only the two of you in the hallway. Jungkook’s glare finally softened once his eyes that had been watching intently as the man left found their way to your own. You hurried over to him, wrapping him in a hug and releasing a breath you weren’t aware you had been holding. “I’m sorry I’m late,” he apologized. “This is exactly why I wanted to come and I still let this happen. I didn’t want you to have to deal with guys like that.”

You stopped him, shaking your head to assure him you were fine. “No, no. I don’t even care about that. I’m just glad to see you again.” Your eyes trailed down to observe the black suit he wore, admiring how good he looked, but also chuckling at how out of character he looked. You weren’t complaining, though. Your gaze travelled to the flower he held in his hand and a grin spread across your face. “What’s this?”

You could see his cheeks slightly tint while he tried to explain himself. “It’s just an… apology, I guess,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. He cleared his throat, holding the flower out for your to take. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gotten so mad about something so stupid. I promised I’d be here and I wasn’t.”

“I’m sorry, too.” You twirled the stem between your fingers. You grabbed his hand again and pulled him along with you. “Come on. Let’s get out of here. I’ve had enough of this party.” You rounded the corner only to be met with your mother, skidding to a stop to prevent from colliding into her. “Mom.”

She sighed, and you were afraid you were going to have to face another lecture, but she surprised you by pulling you into her arms. “I heard someone raise their voice, and then I heard you… I got so worried.” She let you go and turned her eyes to Jungkook, looking upon him for the first time without contempt. “I’ve been thinking a lot recently after hearing how _____ talks about you. So I want to say thank you, Jungkook, for being there for her. I know there’s nothing i can say or do to make up for what I’ve said about you in the past, but I can tell that you love my daughter, and that’s all I want for her. I’m sorry for how horrible I’ve been to you.”

You looked between him and your mother. Jungkook’s words faltered for a moment, but eventually he just said simply, “Of course. I’ll always be here for her.”

Your mother gave a soft smile. She shook her head. “Don’t let me stop you. Go ahead and go. You’ve been here long enough,” she insisted, directing the last part to you. You smiled brightly and thanked her and the two of you headed out.

You two ended up sitting back in your usual seats at the counter at Roy’s. It didn’t exactly get you away from a rowdy, loud scene, but it was comfortable. You two were still in your clothes for the gala, so the old diners were teasing the both of you, saying you looked like you could get married right then and there. You were embarrassed, but you were also proud of how far the two of you had come. You were still by no means perfect. You two were a mess. A beautiful mess. The kind of mess that isn’t burdensome, that you don’t want to clean up because in it are beautiful memories of a time when all is perfect, like old family picnics with cream covered pies and messy little children who impatiently dig right in. “We’re kind of like a pie,” you looked up at Jungkook from where your head laid on his shoulder.

“What are you saying?” he broke out into laughter. The way his eyes crinkled in the corners and his nose scrunched up, it was beautiful.

“I don’t know. I’m just thinking.” You looked around. The neon lights that shone on the jukebox. The perfectly shaped swirl of whipped cream atop your shared milkshake topped off with a bright red cherry. The old couple sitting in a booth on the other side of the diner. It was all so beautiful. You’d never seen so clearly in your life up until this moment.

#jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #bts #bts jungkook #jeongguk x reader #bts scenario #bts imagine #bts reactions #jungkook scenario #jungkook fic #bts fluff #bts angst #bts smut #badboy!au jungkook #pull me down #starryeyedgukk

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suckerforkpopboybands · 4 years

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Fated: part 1

The first part of my new series called fated. It’s a love story that the reader develops with Jungkook........ I hate descriptions check my page for the preview lol enjoy.

Part 1

It was finally September 23rd, 2016 and you were in Seoul South Korea for the K-Pop world festival. You were the winner of the event for the United States of America. You didn’t really care or know too much about K-pop you simply enjoyed the language and well you were a great singer and well singers like Ailee and Sistar perfectly suited your style. It was your first time going to South Korea. Your Korean teacher back in New York City was from Seoul so her teaching helped you achieve the Seoulistic style of the Korean language. You impressed the team in Korean team during your auditions as well as the team that would help you when you arrived to the festival preparations.

You had a few days before you needed to be at the festival grounds for promotion and prep, so you decided to spend a few day in Seoul with a friend who was staying in Korea for the next few months as a language student. You spent that Friday night trying to get over jetlag but so wanted to explore. Your friend insisted that you two go to Itaewon. There was this neat bar that classy but sort of ratchet at the same time. You two spent the evening flirting and getting hit on by American soldiers and cute Korean men. You two weren’t really looking for anything but to dance and drink. While dancing you spotted a Korean guy watching you dance. He was with two other male friends. It was dark but you could tell they were all handsome. He didn’t get up he just watched you as you danced, so you decided to go over to him by the bar.

“You want to dance with me” you said in perfect Korean. They guys were shocked and clapped. You laughed at their clapping and said, “I think that it’s pretty normal to speak Korean in Korea”. The one watching you was nudged by his friend to dance with you. Before you knew this average sized but clearly in shape Korean man with brown hair danced with you. He smelled so nice.

“What is your name” he asked you.

You told him your name and then asked what his name was.

He seemed a bit hesitant before saying, “You don’t know”?

You looked at him strangely and laughed. “Am I supposed to know who you are”?

“Never mind, forget it. I’m Jeongguk”, the handsome young man said.

“Nice to meet you Jeongguk. I am Y/N”.

Jeongguk invited you and your friend back to the private section and table but when you went to grab your phone you noticed you received a text that she was hooking up with some guy and that I looked like I was in good hands. She also sent a pic of the guy entitled just in case I get kidnapped. Jeongguk introduced you to his friends and two tall big guys who almost looked like bodyguards. It definitely made you uncomfortable. He whispered something to one of the big guys and then to his friend which caused them both to whisper to each other. He introduced you the guys.

“Y/N, this is Tae-hyung and Ji-min”.

They both bowed and smiled at you. Tae-hyung had a bunch of questions. How old you were, were you single, why are you single, and a really strange one what is your blood type. The main question of why you were in Korea came up. You explained to the how you were representing your country in a competition and how you love to sing and love the Korean language so the Kpop festival seemed like a great idea. They all seemed impressed. Ji-min couldn’t get over the fact that you spoke Korean almost fluently. You asked them what they did for a living and Ji-min joked and said they were struggling artist. You thought that was cool but could they weren’t really struggling.

Throughout the night you drank and sang random Korean songs in their private section that turned into noreabang. Jeongguk, slightly drunk, asked if he could take you somewhere private. You weren’t really sure. The last thing you wanted was to be kidnapped by this handsome stranger that smelled so good. Or maybe you did. You pulled out your camera to snap a pic and that’s when the large man swooped in and took your phone.

“You cant do that Y/N” said who you realized was in fact their bodyguard.

Jeongguk realized how startled you were and told the bodyguard that you didn’t realized who they were or the rules. Jeongguk finally explained that they were Korea idols in a group named, loosely translated, Bullet Proof Boys Scouts or more commonly known as BTS. You realized who they were. The boy also explained that pictures couldn’t be taken without their permission. You were shocked and realized that’s why he thought you knew who he was you tried to explain yourself.

“I am so sorry I didn’t mean anything bad by trying to take a picture. I was just jokingly but also seriously taking his picture because he asked me to go somewhere private and me my friend send pictures when we go on blind dates or meet with people we don’t know. I am so sorry”.

Your apology was accepted, and the guys thought it was funny and sweet.

Once everything was cleared up and the rules were explained you and Jeongguk left. The two of you went through a back door of the club and into an SUV. When you two got in the vehicle Jeongguk asked where you were staying you informed him you were staying with your friend in the area of the club. He also began to talk about his intentions for the rest of the night.

“Y/N, I am not going to ask you to do anything you don’t want to do. I won’t lie I was going to try and hook up with you but you’re so interesting I want to talk with you more. Not sure if I want to just hook up with you or maybe we can I don’t know. I know it’s 2am but I kinda just want to hang with you. I was allowed to get a hotel room so that’s where we are going if that’s okay with you”.

“Jeongguk, I’d like that a lot”.

“Y/N do you want food, we should get food”. Jeongguk told his driver to pick up some Korean fried chicken and Soju after you got dropped off. Jeongguk grabbed his hoodie and a pair of sunglasses. He also handed you a facemask and a pair of glasses.

“Oh wow this is serious”, you said laughing as you placed the glasses and mask on.

You two entered the front door of the fancy hotel that was about 30mins from Itaewon. There was no one in the hallways but Jeongguk insisted on being extremely cautious.

You entered the beautiful hotel room that looked more like an apartment. You could tell that he had been there for at least a day. There was clothing on the floor.

“Sorry”, Jeongguk said, “that was from earlier today. I’ve been here since Thursday evening. Sometimes I get a room for myself”.

“No problem”, you replied with a smile.

Jeongguk stopped trying to clean up once he realized you really didn’t care. You were simply happy to be hanging with him. Even though you just met him you though he was pretty interesting and that had nothing to do with him being a k-pop star. There was something sweet and innocent about him, even though you could tell he had some experience with women. He just plays coy. He moved closer to you as you stood in the middle of the room. He placed his hands around your waisted and you responded by placing you hands around his neck. You two just stared and smiled at each other before getting lost in a kiss. The kiss started with simple pecks that Jeongguk placed on your lips almost as if he were testing to see how far he could go. He started kissing you a little harder which made you open your mouth a bit giving way to his tongue. Your tongues danced in each other’s mouths; his arms were now holding you tighter as you two begin to move towards his bed. You two were interrupted by a hard knock once on the door. Jeongguk ran towards the door leaving you sitting on the bed. You two forgot about the food that Jeongguk requested for you two.

“Chicken, beer, and soju!” He was so excited about the food.

“Come eat Y/N”.

You started thinking about things he eat could and let’s just say it wasn’t the chicken but he was so happy so you didn’t try to change it. You two sat on the floor to eat. He poured you a drink and pecked you on the lips and a somber look took over his face before he began to speak.

“Y/N I knew we just met”, he said rubbing his neck, “but I feel like I’ve known you for longer than tonight, it’s also refreshing that you didn’t know who I am”.

You just smiled at him and placed a kiss on his lips before saying, “I am so glad to have met you I liked hanging with you”.

Jeongguk smiled at you and said, “If I am telling the truth I don’t know how long this is going to last we have a crazy schedule and I know you’re back to America after the festival. I didn’t tell you before but my group is preforming at the festival and well if we see each other there we won’t be able to interact with each other like we’ve met before. I may not be able to speak to you all during the festival other than as a contestant”

You never have dated or hooked up with any type of famous person, but you knew this wasn’t going to be the start of an uncomplicated relationship if any relationship even came out of it.

“I want to see you again”, Jeongguk said with his head low. You thought maybe the alcohol was getting to him. You lifted his head and kissed him and handed him water to drink. After you also to a drink of the water Jeongguk took this as opportunity to move closer to you until you were on you back with your legs spread and he was facing you on top. You kissed him and said, “If you want to see me again why we don’t wait so we don’t regret anything”. Jeongguk smiled at you and then to himself as he rolled off of you and slipped his arm under you to pull your closer before going to sleep.

#jungkook #BTS jungkook #jeon jeongkook #bts #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #love stories

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chilly-territory · 6 years

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K Case Files of Blue 2, chapter 3 (part 2 out of 3)

Continuing with chapter 3.

Case Files of Blue 2 by Miyazawa Tatsuki

Chapter 3 (part 2/3) (volume 2, pages 139-168)

†

"Upon a closer look at the two questions, it becomes clear that the method used is actually quite simple."

At the time when Fushimi and Doumyouji started their game of tag on premises of the Scepter 4 headquarters, Munakata was providing systematic answers to the two questions that Benzai had posed.

"Let us start with your former question first. You asked about the means that were utilized to find strain criminals. Benzai-kun, please recall how exactly Kounomura-shi had taken the comicalarious photos featuring us at the beginning," Munakata prompted while making up a peculiar new combo word.

Benzai took a few seconds to think.

"Some were peeping photos taken from a long distance. Others were illegally obtained through hacking of surveillance cameras." And then it dawned on him. "Huh? Could it be..." "That is right." Munakata nodded. "Kounomura-shi hacked every camera he could find, from security cameras legally installed within the city to private cameras for personal use. And that is all there is to it. His next step was to compilate a program that would search for a specific element in all the countless footage he had obtained." "A program?" "Yes, a program, and the scope it works with was probably the whole of the capital’s metropolitan area."

Benzai was lost for words.

So to put it another way...

The implications were such that of late, Kounomura had been watching not only the daily lives of the Scepter 4 members but of all the ordinary citizens as well.

"I believe I mentioned this before," Munakata continued dispassionately, "but Kounomura-shi is sending us a message. In this case, it is his manner of showing us that this way information crucial to the investigation of a crime can be obtained in advance. Thus, not putting this method to good use makes us negligent as an organization..." "But," Benzai spoke over Munakata's next sentence before listening to it, "that's basically blatant disregard of human rights." "Isn't that lovely? He is right. He did hit a nerve with that message."

When he processed Munakata's last utterance, Benzai gawked. Fuse, too, was staring at Munakata in bewilderment. And only the criminal accompanying them, Tamada, lifted his head in pleased surprise and took his first good look at Munakata. Munakata coughed to clear his throat.

"...I suppose that statement was a little inappropriate for the king tasked with protection of order. Needless to say, it is necessary to uphold citizen's rights to the best of our ability. However, it does not change the fact that Kounomura-shi has located multiple strain criminals that we had failed to find, and in such short time, too. I think this deserves consideration."

Both Benzai and Fuse couldn't quite decide how to reply to that. Tamada, on the other hand, was staring at Munakata intently.

"To continue, let us move on to the other question Benzai-kun posed, about the means our opponent used to bring the strain criminals he had found under his control and make them scatter across the country." Munakata showed a quick smile. "For that, he conducted a psychological analysis, anticipated their responses and coaxed them accordingly. As simple as that."

Everyone fell silent. Benzai and Fuse said nothing, showing some reserve towards their superior, but Tamada the criminal retorted sharply on their behalf for some reason.

"No, you can't just wrap it up with a friggin 'as simple as that'!"

Benzai and Fuse thanked Tamada with their eyes for his unreserved statement.

Munakata smiled.

"For the record, you can't convince me a punk like you has exceptional brains or a super complex personality or shit like that. But still. But still, man, it's just friggin impossible to read what a person is thinking like an open book, or push their buttons that easily!" "Except," Munakata's smile never wavered, "I did precisely that to determine that you were hiding in a deserted house on the hill behind your parents' home and capture you. All I did for that was to copy Kounomura-shi's method."

Neither Munakata's expression nor his tone fluctuated any. He was still smiling as he informed the other party in a level voice. And that was likely why he inspired shudder-inducing awe the way he was being at that moment.

Tamada was left speechless. "Uh..."

Benzai and Fuse looked at Tamada silently but ardently, urging him to muster his strength. Perhaps, finding courage in those gazes, Tamada attempted to rebuke Munakata.

"Still, it could be just a coincidence." "No, it is not. It is a highly accurate scientific method called the Probabilistic Future Decision-making Theory, also known as the Coin Toss theory." "Wait." To Fuse, that sounded familiar. "Isn't that..." "Correct. It is the theory at the heart of the internet service combining personal-use SNS, online shopping, video hosting and information retrieval run by James D Sevr-shi whom Kounomura-shi took advantage of to return to Japan. Now, do any of you have experience using the Coin Toss service?"

Benzai and Fuse only shook their heads in reply, but Tamada alone raised his hand.

"That's one heck of a convenient service, lemme tell you. Yeah, seriously, it's awesome."

Munakata nodded. "The main selling point of Coin Toss is it gets progressively more personalized with each use and tailored to one's ways of thinking and tastes, constantly updating with information and features the user most desires. Sevr-shi originally studied biotechnology, focusing on random changes in self-replicating life at the time, and he apparently sought a way to apply his research to forecasting the future. When I met him, he said a certain thing to me: 'from a high enough place, all coincidences become inevitability,' to quote loosely." "...But, no, wait." Tamada immediately chimed in with friendliness more appropriate when talking to a colleague. It appeared he became genuinely interested in this discussion with Munakata. "It's just an internet service, right? Saying it can do shit like reading your mind and predicting what you'll do is clearly an overreach, no matter how you slice it?" "Good observation." Munakata raised a finger in compliment to Tamada, like one would praise a child. "Indeed. Being an internet service with unspecified large number of users, its servers are not nearly powerful enough for that task. However, an exhaustive analysis is simply the matter of enough processing power. If one had a computer with necessary and sufficient performance, through application of the Coin Toss theory making exhaustively accurate predictions of the actions a person would take becomes possible." "That necessary and sufficient performance - how much are we talking?" "About what a supercomputer can muster."

Tamada gaped at that.

Taking up where he left off, Fuse asked the main question.

"Excuse me, sir, but how could Kounomura get his hands on a supercomputer?" "I heard Coin Toss Corporation has its own supercomputer for research purposes on Hawaii. I imagine he borrowed it."

Fuse fell into stupefied silence. Munakata's way of saying that was so mundane like he was talking about borrowing miso or soy sauce from a neighbor.

"Huh? Please wait a second, Captain." This time, it was Benzai. "Just earlier, you said you ran the same analysis to determine Tamada's actions, didn't you? Does that mean you went to...?"

But Munakata shook his head. "No, not quite. I used a domestic device." "Domestic?" "Yes. I borrowed the computer that His Excellency Gold King, Kokujouji Daikoku-shi, uses to analyze the Slate. His Excellency owed me a small favor for what happened this time."

The things Munakata was saying so calmly and nonchalantly made even Benzai fall silent then.

"Hey," Tamada commented in whisper to Benzai, "your place's boss is friggin ridiculous."

All Benzai could was to stretch his lips in a strained smile at that.

Munakata, on the other hand, was cheerful to the limit.

"Luckily, Tamada-shi's data from the time the previous Blue King arrested him still remained in Zenjou-san's archive room. I ran my analysis based on that. Only," Munakata's expression clouded somewhat, "unfortunately, with the exception of Tamada-shi, information on the other criminals is mostly non-existent."

It was at that time that something suddenly occurred to Benzai.

"Um, Captain." "Yes, what is it?" "While I was working on those cases, I compiled somewhat detailed profiles on the perpetrators of each case in the hopes of finding a common link. Would those be of use to you, maybe?"

Now it was finally Munakata's turn to be surprised.

"Benzai-kun, you are wonderful. Good job!"

Benzai felt relief wash over him. He did manage to be useful to Munakata, if only a little.

†

The longer Doumyouji ran around the night HQ, escaping from Fushimi, the more he was having. The chase allowed the 19 year old airhead to display his real ability, and Doumyouji ran with a big smile on his face. To him, it felt like a game of tag.

After all, the work he had to do lately built up a lot of stress in him.

"You ass! Doumyouji! Get back here! Stop, damn you!" the profanities shouted from behind him only added more thrill to the game, spicing it up quite splendidly.

While the scene may have looked like a teacher chasing an enthusiastic kindergartner who escaped from the kindergarten, it should be mentioned that both participants were the same age.

Doumyouji ran through a hallway with flexible agility and jumped down the stairway; once, he barged into Enomoto and Fuse's room, stepped over Enomoto who was groaning uneasily in his sleep and was gone, happily running away from Fushimi. As he ran around, he ended up tumbling into a certain room located at the end of a dead-end hallway. Alert and cautious, he produced a flashlight to illuminate the room's interior.

And almost immediately he couldn't help a disappointed, "Oh, it's that room..."

Once before, when he was searching the headquarters high and low for anything that could be Munakata's bedroom, he discovered this small room. It was furnished exceedingly modestly, having only a desk and a bed, and Doumyouji decided it was a spare room for visitors.

"You piece of shiiit," came from behind him.

Fushimi, breathing a little rough, had caught up with him. In his left hand he held a lantern, while cracking loudly the knuckles of his right, clearly intending to punch Doumyouji.

"Doumyoujiiiii," he articulated. "Hope you're ready for what's to--- Mm? The hell? Ain't this Captain's private room?" "Eh?" At Fushimi's words, Doumyouji, who dropped his center of gravity low and was ready to gleefully flee again, straightened in surprise. "...Fushimi-san. What did you just say?" "Huh?" Fushimi's expression looked vicious. "I said, this is Captain's friggin room." "Huh? Wait? Uhnm... but I thought Captain doesn't have a room...?" "Are you an idiot? Of course he does. Captain is a human, too," Fushimi spat out. "Obviously he does things like resting and sleeping like the rest of us." "But..." "He just works all the time like a moron. Since he's got abnormally huge raw stamina reserves and mental fortitude, those around him mostly only always catch him awake. That's why a stupid spooky tale of him not having a room even came into existence." Fushimi's lips twisted. "But even he is only human. No different from the rest of us." The wording was complicated, not only - or necessarily - conveying goodwill. "Then again," Fushimi added with the undertone of irony, "if I hadn't accidentally glimpsed him exiting this room, I would never have guessed this is his room. Not that I had any interest to begin with." "..."

Doumyouji was staring intently at the room around them lit by the lamp. Munakata's civilian clothes and accessories were probably stored in the closet, but it was almost strange how this room was utterly devoid of anything resembling personal effects anywhere in sight. That was something that struck a cord in Doumyouji somehow.

He was the type who sucked at putting things into words. As such, now, as well, he couldn't find a good way to express the emotion that was surging in him. But if he had to try and find a word for it despite that... He'd say this blank empty room was overflowing with Munakata's "resolve". That's how it looked to Doumyouji's eyes.

"Fushimi-san," Doumyouji suddenly spoke up. His face turned very serious. "I'll do it." "Huh?" "Paperwork. I'll do my damnest to deal with it. Yep. It just occurred to me that I must give it my best effort." "..." Fushimi gave Doumyouji a brief glance of puzzlement and suspicion. Then he snorted. "I have no idea what brought that on, but nice resolve there. And out of respect for that resolve of yours, I'll make sure to squeeze every last bit of effort outta you." The last part was said in a threatening tone.

Doumyouji turned pale in the face.

"Ah, erm, on second thought, could you, uh, maybe go easy on me, after all, please?" "Shut up. Let's go!"

With that, Doumyouji was escorted out of the room by the watchful Fushimi, leaving it behind.

And then, the light in the data processing room was on all night.

†

After barely waking up, Enomoto buried his face in the pillow once again. His blood pressure was always low to begin with, so he was never a morning person, but lately, due to barely getting any sleep at all, even after waking up, his head was full of white haze and he didn't feel rested at all.

Still, he forced himself up through sheer willpower and headed towards the common use bathroom, washing his face, brushing his teeth and making effort to smooth out the bristling hair on his temples with water. But no matter how he tried, this particular case of bed hair was just too much for Enomoto to handle, so he finally gave up on styling his hair at all.

Feeling down, he made his way to the data processing room. For breakfast, he bought a jello drink. Draining the nutritious drink, he desperately tried to force his head to work on the sugar content from canned coffee, keenly aware that he needed to search for a way to restore the Scepter 4 computer system that was still down.

The sigh he heaved was heavy and bitter.

'Agh, every fiber of my being wants to watch some anime. And play some games, tons of games.'

He was sick and tired of the staring contest with the monitor that only displayed rows of wrong numbers and of having to face a keyboard the keys of which became worn off by now.

'Lord, please grand me salvation! Bestow your grace upon me so that this deadlock we're in could be broken!'

Praying in the earnest, Enomoto opened the door to the data processing room and froze, for inside there sat the man who just might become his savior.

First thing to be mentioned was that in the back of the room, right on the desk, there slept Doumyouji, restlessly moaning in his sleep. On the same desk, there sat stacks of processed paperwork. And next to the aforementioned Doumyouji, eyes on his tablet, was Enomoto's savior, Fushimi Saruhiko, drinking canned coffee.

"Hm? It's you, Enomoto." Noticing Enomoto's presence, Fushimi lifted his head. His hand immediately resumed operating the tablet though. "Tell me frankly: are you an idiot? There's so many clues scattered all around in plain sight, see? I found them right away without even trying. Listen, we're gonna restart the Scepter 4 system now, so go get to your computer alre---" he started saying but faltered mid-sentence, startled and raising his head.

All because Enomoto walked up to him with brisk and determined steps and suddenly grabbed Fushimi's hand with both of his.

"Fushimi-san. Can I please hug you for the dear life?" he asked misty-eyed.

Fushimi recoiled in shock. "F-Fuck off, moron!" He shook off Enomoto's hands vehemently.

Enomoto couldn't hold it together anymore and started openly weeping.

"Fushimi-san, Fushimi-san," he kept repeating, "I'm really so, so happy you're back! People here have no foggiest about these things! I was all alone, and it was so terrible!"

Indeed, with the exception of Fushimi Saruhiko, among the rest, not even Munakata Reishi could quite be called expert in information processing and machinery-related matters. There was no doubt that the burden Enomoto, forced to deal with the system-wide trouble all by himself, carried was immense.

"..." For a while Fushimi just started at Enomoto in silence with an unreadable face. "Tch!" he clicked his tongue at last. "Anyway, I'll help you, so let's get to it already," Fushimi curly commanded, looking away.

To Enomoto though, those words were the best words of 'salvation' he'd ever heard.

"Yes, sir!" Enomoto responded, wiping his tears and beaming with smiles.

†

"Captain. I have one more question."

It was dawn when Benzai spoke up, addressing Munakata who was seated in the seat opposite of his.

Presently, Munakata, Benzai, Fuse and strain thief Tamada were in the middle of traveling the northernmost area of Honshu via a local line.

Originally, after landing at the Hokkaido airport, they planned to take a direct flight to return straight to the capital, but due to squall winds, all flights were cancelled, leaving the four with no choice other than to spend the night in a hotel in the city and then to head to their destination via an overland route that was considerably more time-costly.

The four stocked up on crab lunches, tea, tangerines and dried scallops and boarded a normal car like they were on a most ordinary trip, taking 4 seats opposite of one another.

Those who happened to be near them kept whispering about the group. 'What's that?' 'Cosplay?'

It was only understandable seeing as Tamada was the only one among them not wearing the Scepter 4 uniform. To draw an analogy, it was not much different from policemen deciding to board a normal civilian train in full uniform. In other words, they were sticking out like a sore thumb, and nothing could be done about it.

Fuse and Benzai did feel a little uncomfortable under all the gazes, but Munakata was dignified and confident as ever.

"Yes, what is it, Benzai-kun?" Hand stopped mid-motion, Munakata looked up from the tangerine he was peeling. Like that, with a handkerchief in his lap, he somehow had a homey feel about him.

"...Sir." Benzai was looking only at the tangerine. "After our last conversation, I've been thinking." "Ah, would you like some?" Having followed his subordinate's line of sight and probably misunderstanding, Munakata offered a segment of his peeled tangerine. Benzai shook his head with all due respect. "N-No, sir, I'm good, thank you, sir." "Really. It is quite delicious though?" Munakata said after chewing on the segment he deftly tossed into his mouth.

Benzai made effort to put on a small insincere smile, but his face became serious again almost immediately.

"Captain, you said that the actions of the strains like Tamada, scattered all across the country, have been processed and analyzed by a supercomputer."

Hearing his name, Tamada, who was enthusiastically wolfing down a crab lunch, stopped, looking from Benzai to Munakata in turns.

Munakata silently nodded. "Indeed, I said that." "And I'm satisfied with the explanation you provided concerning the analysis method. But, Captain, from what you said, it appears to me that the means for procuring the information that had become the base for such an analysis are still unknown." "What do you mean?" "Let's assume that pictures and footage, as well as location, of each culprit in question was obtained via hacking. The problem is, in my opinion, that alone is not enough to get a good grasp on their personality and on what makes them tick." "..." "So I was wondering, what exactly did the Kounomura faction do to obtain enough data to run such an analysis?"

Benzai's observation prompted Munakata to outline the report on the matter he received from Fushimi.

Benzai's eyes went wide. Fuse looked surprised as well.

"A strain that can read minds is involved?" "Yes, correct. Such an ability is very rare and very useful. I assume he did psychological profiling and collected data not only on Tamada-shi and the others like him, but on the Scepter 4 members as well." "Now I see." Benzai nodded, adding things up. "That explains a lot. Our psychological profiles, too, were analyzed by Kounomura, I take it. And via the Coin Toss theory that Kounomura applies, we, too, were made dance to Kounomura's tune. That's also the reason why we got split up and scattered as if in a scenario prepared in advance."

Munakata smiled. "Correct. That is the sleight of hand behind the 'magic' Kounomura-shi has worked on us." "Damn it!" Fuse punched the palm of his hand with the fist he balled his other into. "Why is he going that far?!"

"Only," Munakata suddenly interjected, "even that hypothesis leaves out a few things that I have yet to find an explanation for. That is why I think of it this way: there is a traitor in our ranks."

The easily and casually made statement was shockingly scandalous.

"Huh?" "Eh?"

Both Benzai and Fuse tensed and froze.

Munakata smiled and unhurriedly carried his tea to his lips. Glancing outside the window, he murmured in a perfectly carefree tone, "The clouds look quite menacing, wouldn't you say?"

A single droplet of water landed on the glass of the train's window.

†

It was no exaggeration to say that that person was entrusted with the most difficult mission. As it were, the mission was to infiltrate the enemy territory all by himself. It required smarts, guts and the ability to always stay calm and collected, no matter the situation. And the man in question lived up to that high standard.

Being a police career-track bureaucrat to begin with, by the second half of his twenties he rose through the ranks to become the chief of a small police station, cruising through life comfortably and problem-free. His superiors had a favorable impression of him, and his colleagues and subordinates put a strong faith in him, but a single vice was the ruin of him.

In his case, it wasn't alcohol or women.

It all went downhill thanks to his addiction to far too risky gambling.

Until having graduated from university, he had no connection to gambling to speak of; if anything, he found it rather disgusting. Since he chose to sit for the police force qualification exam, his sense of justice was on the strong side, and he actively wished to crack down on illegal gambling and related crimes.

But one day, his set of values that served as the foundation for his sense of ethics got turned upside down.

The reason for that was a change of heart of a woman he was going to exchange vows and share the future with. They were supposed to get married at the start of the New Year, but the woman did an about-face, declaring that she fell in love with another man, and unilaterally cancelled the engagement.

Due to the shocking heartbreak, he wound up drinking alcohol he wasn't used to drinking and found himself standing in front of a pachinko parlor before he even registered it.

He gave in to despair. But by some ironic twist of fate, that time he ended up scoring an unbelievably big win.

It sparked some really pleasant reaction in his brain. He almost heard how a forbidden door to never pass through slowly opened. The rest happened in the blink of an eye. At first, he got addicted to gambling on horse races and boat races, the amount he bet steadily went up, too, except soon, that alone stopped being enough to satisfy him and he got involved in illegal gambling.

Initially, he was able to hide his destructive habit successfully enough, but before long what was going on became evident along with skyrocketing sums poured into it. Before he knew it, those around him, including his superiors in the force, learned he was a compulsive gambler and, after many a warning and reprimand, he was forced to retire from the police 'at his own request'. In essence, it was a discharge.

In the end, no matter how much people around warned him and what they said to him, he couldn't stop gambling. Having burnt through all of his savings, he was rendered homeless without means of sustenance. But there appeared a man who stretched out a helping hand even to someone like him. It was Kounomura Zen'ichi, from the period when the short man was devoting all of his energy to charity work.

The former policeman was lucky enough to be admitted to a medical facility Kounomura established to cure dependence on alcohol, gambling and the like. Thanks to the rehabilitation program that a board of specialists put together, and the earnestness of Kounomura himself as their honored head, he was able to exercise a degree of control over his urge to gamble. The most important key to that turned out to be learning all about his personality traits and tendencies through exhaustive psychoanalysis.

He had learned he was a person with a so called preference for suffering. Putting it crudely, he was a masochist, the type of person who derived absurd amounts of pleasure from being put in situations that caused him pain and suffering.

He chose to accept it in a positive way, and afterwards, starting with arbitrating conflicts between gangster organizations, he became a certain country's agent affiliated with the government, undertaking dangerous jobs, such as tracking certain people down unofficially and smoking them out.

It was rather difficult to define his job in formal terms, but calling him a troubleshooter, a private eye or a handyman would not be too far from the truth.

To him, the more thrilling a job was, the more it was worth doing. He straightforwardly enjoyed doing risky things like infiltrating various places and gathering intelligence.

And then, he became a supernatural ability holder. It was like a sudden awakening.

That's when he heard those words.

'I see. So you now have one, too. In that case, there is something I want you to do for me, if that's okay with you?'

The one to make that request was Kounomura who the former policeman came to idolize after overcoming his gambling addiction. Two replies afer, he jumped at the request without a second thought.

Partly it was due to the request coming from Kounomura, his benefactor, and the rest of the reason was that the mission sounded particularly difficult and risky. To him, with his borderline abnormal preferences, such circumstances were nothing short of ideal. And so, putting his strain power to good use, he had infiltrated Scepter 4.

The mission requested of him could be divided into 2 big tasks.

The first task was to keep gathering data on Scepter 4.

And the second one was to obstruct Scepter 4's work whenever a chance presented itself.

The former policeman was doing this high difficulty job with flying colors.

He concentrated his intel-gathering efforts on the members of the special operations squad, infiltrated the deepest levels of the facility and when the opportunity presented itself, he inconspicuously employed videotaping. The fact that the information he sent was of use to Kounomura fired him up even more.

Though, when putting together a jamming program in the data processing room in the very heart of Scepter 4 or causing trouble in the generator room to put it out of order, even he felt antsy. Between the algorithms for each member of the special operations squad derived from the Coin Toss theory, Kounomura's detailed plans drawn up based on them, specially developed electronic devices and the ex-policeman's own high grade skills and experience, such feats were made possible.

Needless to say, some assumptions turned out wrong and there were a few small miscalculations here and there, but in general it was safe to say that the sheer military gain was big: the ex-policeman practically single-handedly plunged the HQ into chaos.

And it was precisely because he was so capable that he sensed that the tides were beginning to turn. The turning point was probably Fushimi Saruhiko's return.

Kounomura ordered his man to withdraw immediately if he ever found himself in danger of being exposed. But the former law enforcer, wanting to come back to Kounomura bearing some quality information pertaining to Munakata Reishi, decided to risk it one last time.

His affection for Kounomura threw a monkey wrench into his innately cautious and careful approach.

Through the intelligence network he'd been building, he learned about important documents kept in Munakata Reishi's office, so he chose the right timing and invaded the room. As he was opening one by one the drawers of Munakata's desk, it dawned on him: he had fallen into a trap.

"What the hell are you doing, Gotou?" a voice asked, its owner sounding both accusing and refusing to believe what he was seeing. The voice belonged to Hidaka who, as it turned out, entered the Captain's office unnoticed and was now standing by the door. Next to Hidaka, arms folded across his chest, there stood Fushimi Saruhiko and watched him with ice-cold eyes.

Intelligent as the ex-policeman was, he instantly grasped what was going on. There hardly could be any doubt that the one behind spreading the rumor about crucial information being in the Captain's office to lure out the invader was Fushimi Saruhiko.

Still, the invader tried his luck and replied as Gotou Ren, "Hm? What do you mean?" "Tch!" Immediately, Fushimi clicked his tongue. "Your trick's out in the open already, fucker. We know that you're a strain with a perception manipulation ability, and that you were impersonating Gotou this whole time!"

And with that barked accusation, he steeled himself. Still, his mind demanded he grope for some way out of his desperate situation, so he rushed at the two. At the same time, putting his fingers to his lips, he blew with all of his might, producing a whistle which served as the trigger to activating his perception manipulation ability. Together with the high-pitched sound, “Gotou Ren” shapeshifted into somebody else.

"Ugh!" Hidaka faltered in a big way, for right now the invader had taken the shape of none other than Hidaka and Fushimi's unquestioned boss, Munakata Reishi.

Incidentally, during Awashima Seri's capture, the former law enforcer worked together with Kounomura, too, and employed the exact same trick. When Awashima's eyes registered Munakata's form, she instinctively stayed the hand that was swinging her saber, flabbergasted.

"You two, out of my way!" His voice sounded like a perfect copy, he was sure. Even Fushimi appeared to be stiffening with shock, not to mention the completely frozen Hidaka.

'Alright!' Believing his escape route clear, he tried to slip between Hidaka and Fushimi, and when he did, another miscalculation on his part became evident.

Fushimi didn't stiffen with shock. He tensed summoning his muscle strength.

What he did looked similar to the art of sword drawing. At a fearsome speed, he released the power gathered in his muscles throughout his body and, making the length of his arm from the shoulder to the elbow the pivot point, he swiveled his right arm. In his fist, the handle of his saber was gripped. He smashed it into the face of the running invader, like a quickly executed counterattack.

"Gbwhah!"

The ex-policeman did what looked like almost a half turn in the air before crashing hard into the floor. For a second, consciousness fled him.

"F-Fushimi-saaan!" Hidaka let out a small drawn out whine. "Moooron," Fushimi snorted. "It's not like he's real," he added, spitting the words out. "Look and see for yourself, his perception manipulation ability is coming undone."

As the ex-policeman's consciousness grew hazy, the last words he heard before blacking out were Hidaka's, "Huh? Is it me or does the face this guy's making look awfully content?"

It really just felt so good to get his butt kicked so thoroughly.

†

From a certain point on, Akiyama Himori, detained on molestation charges, stopped letting upset and agitation show on his features altogether. Every morning, he would do his personal maintenance, and then, during the long hours of questioning, he would always stay unfailingly polite and well-mannered. That dignified attitude and demeanor, even assuming it was only a tough facade, impressed even the detective who was in charge of Akiyama.

"You're really something," said middle-aged detective murmured absentmindedly and then immediately coughed, hastening to cover it up, as if ashamed of bringing his personal feelings into the investigation.

Akiyama's only reply was a smile. In that smile, there was no resentment, or anger, or excuses, or pleas - it was free of anything. All Akiyama did was calmly deny the charges against him.

He must have steeled himself.

No. He must have found faith.

Of course, Akiyama went through his fair share of conflict before reaching that state of mind. He felt furious at being arrested on such absurd charges, and embarrassed for his honor to be smeared like that. He also worried about the implications for his organization at his being detained by the police for the whole of the legally permitted detention period. He even considered the possibility of his arrest being a type of harassment by the police against Scepter 4 that they didn't have a favorable opinion of.

But at the end of the day, Akiyama chose to believe: sooner or later, his innocence would be made clear, without fail; so long as justice lay with him, light would eventually shine on his circumstances, just like clouds hiding the sun would eventually be gone along with the passage of time.

For truth's sake it should be noted that were Akiyama alone in this fight, perhaps, he wouldn't be quite so sure about it. But he wasn't alone: he had trusty comrades in Scepter 4, starting with Benzai. And what's more, his king, Munakata Reishi, would surely take the most appropriate measures for his sake. That, he could be adamantly sure of.

Maybe his faith was a little too blind. But that was the kind of man Akiyama Himori was, and he accepted himself that way and considered it a good thing. That's why he concluded that what he had to do was to simply wait, calmly and patiently. That was all there was to it.

And...

The moment he was waiting for had suddenly come.

The door to the room he was held in opened, and the detective in charge informed him, "Hey, you can come out. The charges against you have been dropped." "Is that so," Akiyama intoned and quickly started to gather his things. "What, ain't you gonna ask why?" hearing his disinterested response, the detective in charge questioned in wonder.

Akiyama shook his head.

He knew precisely why: Munakata Reishi and Akiyama's squadmates collaborated with the attorney and worked something out. That's why Akiyama simply said, "I expect I will hear the details from my superior."

He was already thinking about what would need to be done once he returned to his duties. He strongly suspected that Scepter 4's situation at the moment was difficult.

For that reason, it was imperative he return as soon as possible and start filling the hole left by his absence. In the first place, his own ineptitude was to blame for his winding up in such a situation.

If one were to search for the most fitting descriptors for the members of Scepter 4, it could be said that, for example, Zenjou Gouki was best described as a warrior, Doumyouji as a free spirit, and when it came to Akiyama, the most fitting description would be a man with makings of a natural-born soldier. A professional who was naturally disciplined and utterly devoted to his task.

But still, when Akiyama exited the police station and saw his partner there, back propped against a pillar and one hand raised in a silent greeting, he couldn't help breaking into a smile. Benzai Yuujirou walked up to him with unhurried steps, and Akiyama bowed his head slightly but sincerely.

"...Sorry to have caused you so much trouble."

He knew even without anyone telling him just how tough Benzai had it having to cover up for Akiyama by doing his partner's share of work in addition to his own.

Benzai wasn't too verbose.

"Don't worry about it," was all he said, shrugging his shoulders a little. Clapping Akiyama a couple of times on the chest to let him know that he considered this conversation over, he headed over to the parked car.

His attitude was calm and collected, as always, even as light drizzle was sprinkling from above.

"Heh." Akiyama smiled and followed him.

For the two of them, that was enough.

#k project #project k #k case files of blue #k translation

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ladynonsense · 5 years

Text

A Royal Disgrace: Part 1 (TRR/PM Crossover)

OK guys! Let’s do this! This is part 1 of what I expect to be a pretty short little series about King Liam, Riley, and Damien Nazario. Will be NSFW in future chapters but this one is mainly place-setting tbh. I just want you to know that this is not going to be good clean family fun moving forward 😅

Main pairing (for now): Liam x Riley

Rating: PG-13? Nothing too crazy here, just some flirting with sexy older women

Summary: Damien is hired to keep an eye on a visiting royal whose fidelity is in question, and is stunned to see a familiar face.

Tagging @brightpinkpeppercorn @annekebbphotography @choiceslife aaaand wishing I had sorted out a proper tag list at some point but I HAVEN’T. So if anyone else wants to be tagged moving forward let me know!

The duchess looked remarkably relaxed and at home in Damien’s office, despite the stark contrast of her beautiful, designer clothing and the cheap decor. He watched her anxiously, not sure what to make of her. He had expected someone stuffy and snobby, and thought she must have made a terrible mistake by reaching out to him rather than one of the fancy firms who usually took on this kind of work. But she looked perfectly happy with her selection, lounging in the cheap upholstered chair across from him with a warm grin on her face.

“Everything OK, Mr. Nazario?” She fiddled with her long blond waves, and he fought back a smile. Get it together, Damien. She’s almost old enough to be your mother.

“Of course, Duchess Krona. Just gathering my thoughts before we begin.”

She leaned in conspiratorily. “Please, call me Adelaide. We’re friends now, right?”

He resisted the urge to loosen his collar under her gaze. “Of course, Adelaide. Do you mind if I ask who referred you to me?”

“A friend,” she answered cryptically. “I’m told you’re both gifted and discreet. Is that correct, Mr. Nazario?”

“Of course,” he answered confidently. “I’m very discreet.” Why did that sound like an innuendo all of the sudden? Seriously, pull it together.

Adelaide let out a small, sharp laugh. “If only my daughter’s fiancé could say the same! This should be an easy task for you, I’m afraid. The poor dear never expected fidelity from him, but his boldness and complete lack of discretion is proving to be quite embarrassing.”

Damien tapped his pen against his teeth, nodding. Royal intrigue had never been his thing, but at its core this was just one more infidelity case. “What do you hope to accomplish from hiring me, Adelaide?”

She sighed, looking down at her hands in her lap. “I haven’t entirely figured that out yet. What I know for sure is that this must be handled quietly, out of the eyes of the press and the court, so as to spare my own family from embarrassment.”

“Is it your intention to blackmail the king?” Damien asked plainly, trying to keep his tone neutral.

“Oh, heavens no! Despite everything, he’s a fine man and I wouldn’t want to undermine him as a ruler or make an enemy of him. But perhaps if I’m the one to present him with evidence of his inappropriate relationship, he’ll see how easily he could be put in a compromising position and end it.”

Damien nodded, satisfied. “OK. I’ll take your case. But I’d like to keep this arrangement private, and I have some papers for you to sign to that effect.” Making enemies of a powerful royal family was not something he was comfortable with.

“Of course.”

“Did you bring the photographs I requested?”

“Yes, of course.” She pulled a small stack of photos out of her handbag. “This is King Liam,” she said, placing a photograph of a handsome man in regal attire on his desk. Damien was surprised at his appearance; he wasn’t expecting an actual king to be younger than himself. Adelaide laid another photograph down on top of it, showing a beautiful young blond. “This is my daughter, Madeleine. And this...” she added one more photograph to the small pile, “...is Lady Riley, whose company the king is rather...fond of.”

Damien’s breath caught in the back of his throat. Riley. No fucking way. “I’m sorry...Lady Riley?” He tried to cover his own disbelief. “That’s an unusual name for a Cordonian noble, isn’t it?”

Adelaide rolled her eyes and nodded. “Yes, it would be. Lady Riley is an American commoner, but she was sponsored by a prominent noble family to win the king’s hand. It seems she was...partially successful.” Adelaide frowned, her face marked by worry. “She was expected to be chosen before a scandal arose. I was thrilled when Madeleine was chosen in her place, but I suspect there is much more to this story.”

Damien gave her a sad smile. “There usually is.”

----------------------------------

Once he’d seen the duchess back to her car, Damien sank into his worn office chair with a sigh, lifting a photograph off his desk. Fucking Riley.

He supposed he shouldn’t even be surprised. She had always been destined to woo her way into fame and fortune. He figured he’d been a practice run for her.

He’d been obsessed with her when he met her. As much as he tried to be a gentleman and not a creep, there was no denying the nature of his feelings: pure obsession. She’d been the only person to take his mind off of Kai in years, and while they were together, he’d practically forgotten Kai’s name. From the night she flirted with him as she waited his table, he was hopelessly hooked.

He’d tried to fight his own feelings. But she was dogged and persistent in a way that made him think she could’ve been a great cop. She’d attached herself to him and refused to listen to his doubts and objections. When Riley declared you as hers, there was nothing to do but try your best to please her.

The doubts only got worse during the time they spent together. He wasn’t stupid; he knew he was attractive and could keep her satisfied in bed. She was so young, though. 22-year-old Riley might be OK with a low-rent P.I. who made her laugh and made her scream when it counted, but he knew that eventually she’d realize she was slumming it.

And so he left her before it could come to that.

Her fury was a force of nature. They’d screamed at each other until they were both hoarse. He’d had to change his phone number to stop her from sending him bitter tirades and, worse, heartbroken pleas for him to reconsider. He resisted the urge to look her up for the next year and a half, but he thought about doing it at least once a week, still.

Now, it was time to do it.

Almost. After exercising restraint for so long, it felt wrong to dive in. So he started with the king. Never hurts detective work when your subject has a Wikipedia page...

He wanted to hate King Liam, but it was hard not to root for him as he read about his life. His face didn’t match Damien’s idea of a European royal, for starters. He wanted him to be a doughy balding middle-aged white guy, not a younger Daniel Henney. He didn’t want to get sucked in to the tale of his mother’s tragic and mysterious death, or his older brother’s surprise abdication that led to him unexpectedly being handed the crown only a couple of years later. Or the fact that his people adored and respected him. He just wanted him to be another rich prick, but in reality he was either perfect or extraordinarily skilled at PR. Or both.

Except for this one thing.

Riley Brooks.

He hadn’t expected her to have her own entry. But she did, although the translation into English was spotty in places. Clearly she’d made an impact on Cordonia, becoming a popular public figure with her Cinderella love story, until she’d been publicly exposed and humiliated for an affair with a lesser nobleman.

Damien winced as he pulled up the news story from just six weeks prior. The photos were intrusive and cruel. Riley may have been a bit wild, and it was entirely possible that she did indeed get involved with two men at once, but she didn’t deserve this, regardless. His heart ached for her with an unexpected intensity.

He had to dig deeper for the conspiracy theories. And there were plenty of them.

For instance, that Madeleine, Adelaide’s daughter, had orchestrated the whole thing in order to claim the king for herself.

Or that the King Father had set it up, in order to control his son’s choice of queen.

And an overwhelming number of sources were certain that the king and the mysterious American were still romantically entangled. There were dozens of dark, blurry cell phone photos, not clear or convincing enough to hit major publications, claiming to show King Liam and Riley together in compromising situations. If they were genuine, then the king was shockingly indiscreet and borderline fetishistic about hooking up outdoors, in public.

Damien glanced at his camera. This might be too easy. But he would never forgive himself if he was the photographer behind the next round of humiliating photos to damage Riley’s reputation.

He picked up the phone and dialed the number of the hotel that Adelaide had told him about. She hadn’t even bothered to give the front desk a fake name.

“Hello?” Her voice was chipper but somewhat confused when she answered the call. His mouth suddenly went dry when he heard her voice on the other end of the line.

“Riley,” he croaked awkwardly, “It’s uh...it’s Damien...Nazario. Can we meet?”

----------------------------------

Riley kept to the sidelines at the UN ball, praying for the night to end already. Her friends were off dancing...well, except for Drake, who was just off drinking. But Liam was still busy circulating the room, charming everyone he came across in that easy manner he had. She tried not to be too obvious about staring at him, but he just kept drawing her eye. He was irresistible.

She pulled herself away with a sigh, realizing she was staring again, and snuck up to the roof to pull out her phone. Damien had texted her his new number -- I can’t believe that son of a bitch actually changed his number to escape me in the first place -- and she was itching to find out what was so important that he had tracked her down after all this time. She wanted so badly to say something, anything, but couldn’t come up with any words that didn’t seem desperate and depressing.

“Ah, I’d hoped I would find you out here.” She jumped at the voice behind her, but grinned as she turned to see Liam, suddenly right behind her with a huge grin on his face.

“You snuck up on me,” she scolded, turning around and wrapping her arms loosely over his shoulders. “I thought you were busy.”

“Never too busy for you,” he said softly, kissing her forehead. She pulled away and shot him a glare that made him wince. “OK, sometimes too busy for you, but I always make time eventually. Right?”

“That’s true,” she sighed, rising to her toes to kiss him properly on the lips.

“You said earlier that we needed to talk...is everything OK?”

“I’m not sure,” she answered, frowning and biting her lip. “An old boyfriend reached out to me today.”

“Oh? Should I be worried?” Liam smirked, a little bit of genuine nervousness showing through his confident facade.

“Well...maybe? He said he had to talk to me...about you.”

Liam frowned. “Why would a stranger know anything about me that you don’t already know?”

She hugged him then, resting her head on his shoulder. “I’m sure it’s not like that, OK? But he’s a detective, and a pretty good one. He might have important information. Or it might be something he thinks is important that we already know...I have no idea. But he wants to meet me later tonight.”

“OK,” Liam said, pulling away and nodding thoughtfully. “OK, that’s good. I’m coming with you.”

“You can’t do that. You’re busy with the court. Plus Bastien would never let you go out alone, and I don’t know if I trust him yet.”

“I’m sorry Riley but I have to insist. I can lose Bastien. How can we be sure this man doesn’t pose a threat to you?”

“I trust him,” she insisted. “Things got bad between us, but he’s a good person.”

“I trusted my father,” Liam stated simply, a slight edge of bitterness to his voice. “I trusted Bastien. You trusted Penelope. Even good people can be turned against you.”

Riley pondered that for a moment, unable to give a good response. He was right. Damien was a good person, but that didn’t mean he was on her side. Especially after everything they’d been through.

“OK. He’s going to be pissed when I don’t show up alone, though.”

Liam smiled, giving her one last quick kiss before heading back inside. “Let him be.”

#choices fan fic #king liam #liam x mc #damien x mc #damien nazario #perfect match #trr

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zecretsanta · 6 years

Text

To: @therealhousewivesofhyrule

From: @silvershoelaces

Happy holidays!

Phi didn’t have much before she volunteered to be frozen, but now she had even less. Her foster parents, already elderly when she participated in the simulated Mars mission forty-five years ago, were long gone. And she’d sold all her stuff on eBay when she quit college in anticipation of participating in the Decision Game. The only things she had left were what remained of her bank account, the clothes she was wearing, and the brooch she had had since she was a baby. She didn’t even have knowledge about the outside world, now that it had changed so much, so the street smarts she’d prided herself on for twenty years? May as well have been Star Trek trivia for all the good they’d do her. As much as she valued her independence, it looked like she had no choice but to take Old Man Sigma up on his offer to take her in, at least until she found out whether her bank, which had been all but destroyed during the Radical Six chaos, would be able to recover the funds in her account. Besides, the test results were coming in today.

Phi began to pace back and forth where she was waiting in Warehouse A, uncharacteristically anxious. Everything that had taken place since she had been dragged into this insane series of events at the beginning of the AB Game had already changed her life completely. But this news, knowing if she had a real, blood family, could change it just as much. And the call was supposed to come in any minute now….

“Phido, how ya been?” chuckled an obnoxious, grating voice. “It’s been furever, hasn’t it?”

Lagomorph. Knowing that Sigma and Akane, two people she hadn’t known before, but now cared about and trusted, had conspired to make the thing, did not fill her with any love for it. It was still as obnoxious as ever. Phi spun around to see the main screen lit up with the face of that…creature.

“What do you want?”

“You’ve got a call from Master Kurashiki. I have a hutch you’ll want to take it.”

Admittedly, she did. In fact, that’s what she had been waiting for. Akane was on Earth, or what was left of it anyway, and so Akane was the one who was receiving the results of her genetic test. If she had any family—any whatsoever—she intended to contact them and see if they could help her get back on her feet, make ends meet, learn about her real parents, or whatever. That is, if they cared.

“Yeah, put her through, Zer—I mean, Lagomorph.” It wasn’t surprising that she had messed up the bunny’s name, since it had been nearly a year in her consciousness since she had first heard it, and less than a day in real time. And she’d been used to calling it Zero, too.

Lagomorph chuckled with some sort of psychotic glee and disappeared as Akane’s face showed up on the screen. In front of her was a large box with a return address claiming to be from the International Genetic Database.

“Good day, Phi,” Akane said with a gentle smile. “I hope you are doing well.”

“Yeah, yeah, Akane. No need to be so polite with me,” Phi retorted, knowing full well that Akane was equally polite when they were the same age, and that telling her not to be polite did nothing. She was just like that. “You got the results, right?” Of course, she knew the answer to her question was already on-screen.

“Yes, I did. Would you like me to open them for you, or do you prefer privacy?”

“Whatever, I’m sure you don’t know any of the people I might be related to anyway,” Phi scoffed. “If there even is anybody left, I don’t care if you see it. Hell, if you do know them, maybe you can send ‘em my way.”

“If that is what you wish, I will open it for you now,” Akane said, pulling a letter opener out of somewhere off-camera. It had a rabbit on the handle. How much did this woman like rabbits? What a weirdo. Akane, obviously oblivious to Phi’s thoughts, used the letter opener to slice the tape on the outside of the box.

Inside there was a heavily padded envelope, with a memory card taped to it. The memory card was the same type of card used in the facility, which honestly was surprising to Phi. For whatever reason, she had assumed that all of the technology in Rhizome Nine was specially made for the AB Project. Clearly that assumption was wrong.

Akane leaned over the camera, completely obscuring it as she fiddled with whatever device was in front of her. Presumably, she was inserting the memory card into her computer, but Phi couldn’t tell. When Akane finally sat down, she didn’t look Phi in the eye, instead focusing intently on the information onscreen.

“So how’s it looking?” Phi asked eventually.

Akane let out an audible gasp. Good timing.

“I knew it,” Phi laughed darkly. “I have no living relatives at all, do I?” It was just her luck. No known living relatives in the days before genetic testing could prove that assumption wrong, no living relatives now. She was destined to be alone.

“It says here…your closest living relative is…no, that can’t be true. His younger sister…is this what he meant? April nineteen…”

“What?!”

“The test results say that your closest living relative is…Dr. Klim.”

What the hell?

No, seriously. The old woman must have been more senile than Phi thought.

“What. The. Hell.” Phi was ready to hear that she would never find anybody. But this? This was beyond her expectations. This was insanity.

“There aren’t too many remaining members of the Klim family, but Sigma is, in fact, your closest genetic match. You share 50% of your DNA with him.”

“What. The. Hell.”

“It will likely be easier for you to believe me if I provide you with the documentation, so you may look through it yourself. There is more of interest in there, and I expect you will wish to take the time to peruse the files on your own. I’ll mail them to you, and send the physical items to the printer in the Director’s Office.”

Phi turned on her heels and ran toward the Director’s Office, completely abandoning the conversation without so much as a goodbye. If the old woman was messing with her, she’d get hers. If she was telling the truth, well…Phi was sure she’d accept an apology later.

And in minutes, there it was on the computer screen in front of her. A detailed analysis of all her chromosomes, possibilities of various genetic disorders, her likelihood of immunity to Radical Six, and a list of partial matches in the system for her DNA. Akane was right, too. Sigma’s DNA was a 50% match for her own. But something else caught her eye….

“Phi, what are you doing?” asked a voice behind her. She spun around on her swivel chair. The spitting image of Sigma’s younger self, dressed with the robot suit covering all but his head, was standing before her.

“Hey, Kyle. Glad to see you. While you’re here, help me with this.” Phi gestured with two fingers, beckoning him closer, and he obliged.

“What do you need?”

“I got my results back from the IGD today. Looking for any family I might possibly have. But does this seem right to you?” She pointed toward Sigma’s name on the screen.

“Oh my, that does seem rather peculiar,” Kyle said. “If this is true, then this means that—”

“Sigma is my father,” Phi said, as Kyle continued, “Father is your brother.”

“How did you come to that conclusion, Phi? From what you two have told me, you were originally the same age. Your mind is considerably younger than his at the moment, but chronologically, you are only two years younger than he is. So doesn’t it stand to reason that—”

“Yeah, but check this out. Right here, on the other side of the page.” Phi gestured at another name on the screen, a name that was also a 50% match. Diana.

“Do you know this Diana person?”

“Yeah. I do. But look.” Phi pointed to the screen again. The word deceased was written below the name, in bolded red font, but Phi was more interested in the line in between. “She and I also share 50% of our DNA.“

“Perhaps she is your long-lost sister, then,” Kyle said, his voice louder and slightly higher in pitch. He sounded excited. Phi had never seen Kyle get so emotional before. There went her theory that his mind was secretly more robotic than one of the GAULEMs. “And if you and Father share half your DNA, and this woman also shares that much DNA with you, then Father—”

“—isn’t related to her at all.”

It was strange to watch Kyle’s reaction to the information. He had clearly been excited before, but although it showed in his voice, his facial expression had barely changed. And now, although she could tell he was dejected through the rest of his body language, his face was similarly blank in expression. He really did grow up inside the robot suit, huh? Its face was more expressive than his real one.

“But if Father and this woman are not related, then that means…”

“It means I have to be the missing link between them. Hence, their child.”

Kyle looked at her blankly. Phi could tell that this particular blank stare, unlike his previous gaze, was deliberate.

“It’s not that unrealistic. A few months ago, when we were trapped in the Mars mission test site—actually, that was forty-five years ago, wasn’t it? Not the point. Anyway—at the testing site, there was a machine. Akane told me about it. It’s the machine she and Junpei used to survive, the one she took Clover and Alice to a few days ago. It’s a device that allows people to travel between timelines without SHIFTing. It’s not inconceivable to send someone back, say, twenty or thirty years.”

“But even if we are to believe that such a thing is true, that means—”

“That you’re my younger brother, you dork.”

—————————————————

“—And that’s when I smacked him and told him that his story about a cat cursing him with puns of all things made no sense.”

“Ahahahaha! I always wondered if there was a story was behind his puns, but that story is an absolute farce!”

Kyle and Phi had been sitting on the floor and talking for an hour now, and Kyle was relieved to see that Phi’s tough persona had faded somewhat. Despite his determination to be kind and polite to everyone, he had honestly been quite intimidated by her demeanor. He had never lived in an environment with sarcasm, and consequently had had trouble interpreting the intention of Phi’s frequent snarking. But as she opened up to him, he found himself increasingly able to cope.

“Tell me, Phi. What was Diana like? She was the woman Father loved, wasn’t she?”

“She was beautiful and kind. Kind of a softie if I’m being honest. She was the one who probably wanted to avoid conflict the most. And I was drawn to her when we were living together, because she was warm, and caring, and she made me feel like I wasn’t alone in the world anymore. And that’s why it hurt so much when she betrayed us.”

Unexpectedly, tears started to slide down Phi’s cheeks, and her voice cracked on the word “betrayed”.

“I don’t understand,” Kyle said hesitantly, staring at the tears. “If she was so kind, why would she—”

“I don’t know!” Phi exclaimed. “I don’t know what would possess her to throw the future of the world away and drag me out of that shelter when she knew my living would mean the spread of Radical Six. And I can’t even ask her because she’s de—”

“It’s because she loved you very much,” Sigma said.

Kyle and Phi looked up. Kyle’s father—no, their father—was standing in the doorway, a nostalgic look in his eyes. He stepped into the room.

“Of course, she loved everyone she spent time with at the Mars mission test site, but our team in particular was very dear to her. She kept telling me about it while we were working together here on the moon.”

“Telling you about herself and Phi, you mean?”

“Yes, and all the other members of the Decision Game too. After we lived together, she said, she felt like we were a family. All nine of us. And I couldn’t fathom just what had gone on in there—I had just finished the AB games when I was whisked away to the past again, when my arms and eye were freshly…removed…and here was this woman who knew me, who knew Phi, and kept talking about this Carlos and Mira and Junpei, and I had no idea who any of these people were or why she knew them. The stories were overwhelming at first. But it did seem as if she and Phi had some sort of important connection. And when I met them again, decades later, Diana and Phi did seem to grow very close, very quickly. Is this about Diana?”

“Yeah, I think she’s my mom,” Phi said flatly. Considering the circumstances, Kyle would have expected her to put more emphasis on the information, but with Phi being Phi, that expectation was…overly ambitious. Of course, his father’s response was more emotional.

“Excuse me?!”

“Calm down, old man. The test results are right here.” Phi got up and sauntered over to the computer to log in again, and Sigma briskly walked across the room to try to slow her down. Between his age and her determination, not to mention the fact that Kyle was still sitting on the floor between them, he was no match for her. She sat down and started typing. Sigma stepped around Kyle.

“Can you at least explain what you’re talking about?” Sigma sighed. “Or is that too much to ask?”

“No, dad,” Phi groaned. “I know you too well. You won’t believe me until I show you the files.”

“Don’t dismiss me that readil—‘dad?”

Kyle couldn’t help but let out a snicker as he stood up. “Yes, dad, you need to look at the files.”

Sigma released an exasperated groan. “Kyle, what sort of nonsense has Phi put into your head? You don’t have to go along with whatever she says.” The thought of Phi conspiring with him for the sole purpose of bothering his father was even funnier to Kyle than her blatantly having addressed him as “dad”, and he laughed harder. Phi, to his surprise, started laughing with him.

“I’m not kitten about this,” Phi smirked, invoking the cat pun for absolutely no reason at all. “If you think I’m lion, then you should check this out.” Phi pointed at the screen again, at Diana’s entry in the “deceased” dataset. Sure enough, the entry read that roughly 50% of her DNA was a match for Phi’s.

“Now, unless you two are distant cousins, the fact that I also share this DNA with you”—she traced her finger across the screen toward Sigma’s entry—"means that somehow, you two got it on and I was the result. Kind of like an antimatter bomb, really.”

Kyle didn’t understand what she was referring to with regards to the antimatter bomb, but it was true that Phi had a rather explosive personality. And shockingly, Sigma was not reacting to Phi’s teasing with anger. Perhaps Kyle could do the same?

“This situation, it turns out, is purrfect for Phi. She no longer has to go back to Earth and claw her way into success. Is it not pawsible for her to stay here, with us?”

The icy glare Kyle received from Phi indicated that he had perhaps gone too far in his puns, but Sigma began to laugh. “Is that how you two see me? As an old man who won’t stop making dad jokes? Maybe you two are sort of similar after all.” He shook his head. “It’s not impossible, but I don’t think so. If you two want to prank me, try to convince me of something more outrageous.”

Sigma turned around and began to exit the room.

“But if you really mean it,” he said, waving his hand over his head in a dismissive goodbye without turning around, “forward that mail to my box and I’ll take a look. Have fun.”

Sigma left.

“Well, that was fun,” Phi said as soon as he was out of earshot. “And if it turns out this is real, I think I’m going to have a hell of a good time teasing him.

“So you aren’t sure, Phi?” Kyle asked.

“Well, it seems pretty reasonable. Better than anything else I can come up with, anyway. And as much as I don’t think I’m anything like that dork, having a dorky dad is better than not having one at all.”

Kyle attempted to smile, but his face must not have been doing what he intended for it to do, because Phi recoiled slightly at his expression. He stopped trying. “I am glad to finally have a sibling if nothing else. Living every day of my life surrounded by GAULEMs and no living creatures was not torturous, but it was also far from the pleasant family life I envisioned as a child.”

“I can’t guarantee I’ll be a good older sister,” Phi said, “but I can be sure to tease you now and then.”

“I can ask for no greater pleasure,” Kyle replied. “I knew we had a connection.”

#zero escape #virtue's last reward #therealhousewivesofhyrule #silvershoelaces #zecret santa 2017 #submission

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notsissannis · 6 years

Text

ーJust A Boy

Ronald Weasley x Hermione Granger, Pansy Parkinson

One-shot: complete

Second installment of My Boy

Rated: M ー Violence, Guns, Explicit, Violence sex, Violence death.

Read more here [AO3]

Read part one of the series here [AO3]

ー Please take the tags seriously. I’m not joking. This might triggered some of you. Talk to me if it does.ー

Hermione put down The Prophet to greet her husband, “Morning.” She smiled, watching him fixing his flaming red bed head, “Coffee or tea?”

Ron hugged her small frame and kissed her forehead, “Morning, love. Coffee please. I have so many things to do today.”

“New product?”

“Products,” he corrected and smiled gratefully when Hermione put his cup on the table. “George and Angeline going to celebrate their anniversary today. So… Yeah.”

She sat on the table, facing him. His free hand held her thigh as she passed him the paper. He looked at her questioningly behind his cup.

“Nothing new. Just another news of The Malfoys,” she shrugged.

He put down his cup and turned to the page of said news. There, almost covering the whole page, moving pictures of Scorpius and Pansy on their holiday. Morocco, Caribbean, Paris, and more countries that Ron didn’t know how to pronounce.

“Where are they now?” He asked casually, folding the news into half and continued stroking her thigh.

“Back at the manor. Thinking to invite them this week, you know, for Albus’ birthday,” she ran her fingertips along his jaw.

“You know I love it when you wear this stockings,” he murmured and nipped her finger.

“I know,” she leaned forward to his ear to whisper, “And I’m wearing that lacy black thong, too.”

Ron groaned, squeezing her thigh, “You’re killing me here, Hermione.”

She chuckled and kissed his nose, “Tonight.”

“Come on, love. Just the tip?” He pulled the elastic band of her thong then let go, letting it slapped her soft hip.

She moaned at the slight pain, “No, Ronald.” She jumped off the table and laughed when Ron spanked her bum on their way to the fireplace.

“Tonight!” He yelled as Hermione disappeared in the green flame.

He walked back to the kitchen ー magically cleaned his cup ー and took the folded paper with him to work.

It was late evening when he decided to send Hermione an owl, telling her he would be late tonight.

Not too late, I hope. We do have plan, if you know what I mean.

Love, Hermione

Ron read her reply with a goofy smile. Even after two kids and under the heavy pressure of being the Minister of Magic, his wife could still excite him like a teenager. He tucked her reply into his pocket and wrote another owl.

The Langham London, 08:00 p.m.

Ron W.

Once he got a reply, he grinned wickedly and closed the shop, getting ready for his night in Muggle London.

He turned off the telly when the soft sound of bell echoed the suite room. He lit the candles and kept the room dimly-lit to set the mood. Looking at his preparation one last time, he opened the door to welcome her.

“Weasley,” she said as she walked in and clearly surprised at the interior. “Someone’s quietly breeding Galleons,” she commented, smirking at him.

“Only to be spent on special occasion,” he smirked back and leaned against the closed door.

She sat on the soft bed and hummed happily, satisfied at being treated like a queen. Suspiciously, she asked, “Why the sudden invitation, Weasley?”

Ron chuckled and waved his wand, casting silencing charm and wards for extra security. Seeing her confused face, he explained, “We don’t want to get caught now, do we?”

He sat beside her, caressing her naked arm with his knuckle, “How’s Caribbean, Pansy?”

Pansy still looked wary but she didn’t stop his leisure movement. “Beachy and sandy.”

“Oh? And you don’t like it?” His body turned to her while his other hand slithered under her skirt, touching her tan thighs.

“What are you doing, Weasley?” Her voice was low and her eyes slowly closing under his touch.

“We’ve been playing this childish push and pull game for quite some times. And I got tired of waiting,” he pulled the small string of her dress down, “Or, if I’m just simply misunderstood all the signs, I can leave now.”

She shrugged her dress down, leaving it pooled around her waist. She pulled him by his collar and licked his neck, “You got it all right.”

He pushed her down into soft mattress completely, and watched her exposed chest heaving intently as he pulled her knickers down deliberately slow.

“Red? For my Gryffindor?” He asked, standing up to stand between her dangling legs at the edge of the bed.

She propped herself up with her elbows to look at him seductively, “First impression and all that.”

He summoned a small black cloth and tied it behind her head ー covering her eyes. “I heard you like games.”

She moaned when he kicked her legs wider and tied each of their ankle to the posters, “Why? Granger doesn’t?”

He answered her by filling her wet cunt.

Pansy screamed at the surprised intrusion. She moaned in pleasure as he pushed and pulled in a slow sensual rhythm, until she started to kick around panicky.

It was useless.

It was too late.

“What’s wrong Parkinson? Didn’t you say you like games?” He leered.

“Fuck you, Weasley! Stop!” She screamed and tried to get up, but Ron pushed her back down with his weight.

“You know, I have my suspicion. Hermione, too, I daresay,” his voice was icy cold yet he didn’t stop moving.

She moaned and panicked, all at once. It was comical for Ron to see her pug face contoured like that.

Comical and satisfying.

“Weasley, let me go,” she pleaded.

He ignored her plea. “I mean, who wouldn’t? You were crazy for Draco. Yet he chose Astoria. You were rejected. Discarded. Thrown away like a ragged cloth.” He watched her mouth gaping, feeling disgusted at the feeling of her breasts rubbing on his clothed chest. “So you figured, why not Scorpius?”

She wailed when he pushed deeper.

“Stop!” She sobbed.

“But just being Scorpius’ wife wasn’t enough. It was never enough for Pansy. Pansy got to have everything. Pansy got to have Galleons, Pansy got to have big manor, Pansy got to have title.” Ron choked her, happy to feel her quickened pulse under his touch. “But why Albus?”

He got up and magically tied her wrists together. She tried to push her body up when a cocking sound filled the room.

She froze and started to cry uncontrollably. “Weasley, please.”

He pushed the gun deeper into her cunt. “Why Albus, Parkinson?”

“I promise I’ll tell you everything. I swear on my magic! But please… Merlin, please. Take the Muggle killing machine out.”

Ron laughed maniacally. “So you do know how this thing works! Brilliant!“ He wiggled the gun, "And I’m going to expect answers now, Pansy. Or this will go… How do they sound like again? Oh, yeah!

“BANG.”

She bit her quivering lower lip to bleed and hastily nodded. “Yes. Yes! I told him to kill Albus!”

“Why?”

“Because he tried to stop him from meeting me! He threatened to tell Potter!”

Ron was eerily quiet, pulling the gun out of her and took the cloth off her eyes.

She looked at him in relief and kept mouthing thank you.

“Oh, witch. You got the wrong idea!” He moved to stand between her legs again. “I took it off so you can watchー” he put the gun back into her cunt “ーthe adorable red liquid splattered off your cunt.”

He pulled the trigger once.

Pansy screamed her voice hoarse. Begging and cursing him all at once. “You crazy loyal Gryffindor fool!”

He pulled the trigger second.

She tried to kicked him away with her weak legs. It only made her situation worse as she could feel the burn from the gunshots on her thighs and inside her.

He pulled the trigger third.

She fell back. Blood was trickling down from her throat, her chest, her holed stomach. Her eyes were wide open, staring at him unseeingly.

He pulled the trigger fourth.

Just to make sure.

Hermione put down The Prophet to greet her husband, “Morning.” She smiled, watching him fixing his flaming red bed head that she’d ran her fingers thoroughly in last night, “Coffee or tea?”

Ron hugged her small frame and kissed her forehead, “Morning, love. Tea please. I feel relaxed today.”

“Ravished?” She added innocently and laughed when Ron pinched her bum.

He took his seat, rubbing his face sleepily as he watched his wife moved here and there.

“Read the paper, Ron,” she told him without turning.

He obliged and scanned the paper. There, the Malfoys, as always. But this time it wasn’t because of their holidays and bikinis.

“Mrs. Malfoy was found in an extremely devastating condition at one of the luxurious Muggle Hotel last night,” he read out loud.

She sat on the table and put his tea beside her. “It was horrible. Harry owled this morning. Apparently she got shot with a gun.”

He stroked her thigh up and down soothingly, “Did they find who did it?”

She nodded. “The CCTV, that security camera that record everything, managed to capture the man when he was booking the suite. Blonde hair, short, chubby.”

“Muggle?”

Hermione kissed his head before she jumped off the table. “Yup. They identified him as one of the janitor. He hung himself though.”

Ron took a sip of his tea.

“If I didn’t know any better, I would think someone polyjuiced themselves to kill her,” she looked amused with her own idea.

Ron sipped more.

“Scorpius going to stay at Harry’s for a few days. He’d lost his parents, and now his wife.” Hermione pulled him up and the couple walked together to the fireplace.

“Go and see him if you’re free, Ron. He could use some Ronald’s magical pep talk.”

Ron grunted his agreement.

“He’s just a boy, Ron.”

“Alright alright. But, it’s because I love you.”

Hermione smiled sweetly at her husband before she left to work.

Ron walked back to the kitchen, scratching his freckled chest as he yawned. He picked up the paper and looked at the moving picture of Scorpius. He burnt the paper with a flick of his wrist as he muttered, almost sarcastically.

“Just a boy.”

#Ron Weasley #hermione granger #pansy parkinson #fairestoftherare #slytherdornet #in a way #i think #ronsy #romione #hp #hp fic #fic #mine #just a boy

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decembercamiecherries · 7 years

Link

Title: between pages

Word count: 3764

Summary:

He teased, “You know, you’re really cute when you’re all flustered like this, Killua.”

Blue eyes widened, enraged. “I am not cute, dammit!”

“Mmm, yeah. You are.” He kissed Killua’s scarlet cheek before Killua had the could duck out of the way.

“Oh my god.” Killua tried to hide his face in his hands but Gon caught his wrists and pulled them down. Killua had nowhere to run or hide now, caught between Gon’s body and the table at his back.

Which was bad for Killua, but very, very good for Gon.

This was written for a very talented and amazing person who has always been so supportive of me and my fics <3 I told her that I would write anything she wanted for her birthday today and she requested fluff, preferably in a modern or school setting, and thus this fic was born!

Shout out to @softkillua, the best beta ever!!! Thank you for everything Kaz!

Knock-knock

Gon’s head lifted at the sound of knuckles rapping on wood, and his heart leaped at the familiar sight of chaotic silver curls and midnight-blue eyes.

“Yo,” greeted the teen in the doorway with a sharp grin.

Gon’s pulse stuttered. “Killua!” He abandoned his work station, sprinting towards the door so fast he nearly slipped on the school’s tiled floors.

Killua’s eyes widened. “No, Gon, don- OOF!”

The taller teen stumbled back from the force of Gon’s bone-crushing embrace. Gon heard the air rush out of Killua’s lungs and laughed before he could stop himself. He nuzzled his face into the curve of Killua’s shoulder, smile growing when Killua’s long arms wrapped around his waist.

“Do you have to always do that?” Killua asked, breathless.

“Do what?” Gon asked innocently.

“Tackle me. You almost send us crashing to the floor every time you do that.”

Gon pulled away, a mischievous smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Killua turned rigid as stone. “Hey, what are you-?”

Gon cut him off, “Would you rather I do…this?!”

Gon pressed his lips to Killua’s cool cheek with a loud SMACK.

“EUGH!!!” Killua shoved Gon off him and he fell back, already howling with laughter. Killua’s face was a bright, blazing red. He scrubbed the spot where Gon kissed him viciously and glared at Gon with nothing short of murderous intent.

But Gon couldn’t stop laughing.

“Gon, oh my god,” Killua hissed. “It wasn’t that funny, stupid! The whole school is going to hear your cackling if you don’t shut up!”

“After school!” Gon gasped. His head spun and his ribs ached. “No one–to hear!”

Killua’s expression darkened. He shrugged his backpack off and hurled it into Gon’s side. Gon wheezed at the impact, already feeling tomorrow’s bruise.

“Then why don’t you finish whatever the hell it is you’re doing in here so we can go home already!” Killua snapped. “I’ve been waiting around for hours and I’m starving.”

Gon wiped a tear from his eye. “Y-You didn’t have to, you know.”

Killua snorted and dropped his bag onto the paint-stained floor. “Of course I did. If I didn’t stay after, you might forget to go home again.”

Gon stuck his tongue out at Killua’s slender back. He whined, “That was one time! And it turned out fine in the end!”

“One time too many. Mito called me in a panic when you didn’t answer her calls and that is not an experience I would ever care to repeat.”

Gon made a face. Sure, he had messed up then. But that was years ago, back when he was a freshman and in nearly every after school club in existence. He was a senior now. He knew better.

Killua walked around the classroom, slowly drinking in the mess of multicolored paints and ruined brushes stacked across shelves. Gon watched curiously as Killua’s azure gaze drifted over the armature mosaics on the stone walls. What was he doing?

Killua stopped in the center of the room. Shoving his hands into his pockets, he said loudly, “Why are you even in here, Gon? I never pegged you for the art type.”

“You know I’m not.”

“Exactly. So-” Killua turned his piercing eyes onto Gon and a spark of electricity raced under Gon’s skin, “-why are you here? Did you get in trouble or something?”

Gon shrugged, ignoring the prickling warmth spreading through his chest at being the center of Killua’s attention. “Not really. I didn’t finish a project in time so I had to stay after to complete it.”

Killua arched an eyebrow. “A project?”

“Yep! I just finished, actually.”

“Can I see?” Killua asked and Gon almost started laughing again.

“Of course!” He grabbed Killua’s hand and tugged him towards the table he had been previously standing at. “You’re my boyfriend, Killua, you don’t have to ask me stuff like that!”

“Oh, shut up,” Killua grumbled. Gon could hear the lift in his voice though- the begrudging happiness there- and his heart fluttered in response.

“Here,” he said as they came to a halt. He shut the leather book on the table’s newspaper-covered surface and held it out to Killua proudly.

Killua stared. He glanced at Gon, then back towards the book. His cheeks were still painted the faintest shade of pink from Gon’s most recent tease and it made the faint freckles on his nose stand out. They reminded Gon of scattered shells on pale sand.

“Your art project was…a book?” Killua asked, disbelief in every word.

Gon chuckled. “No, that’d be silly. It’s what’s inside- that was my project.”

Gon thrust the book at Killua again and this time he took it. But Killua still hesitated, sending Gon a quizzical look even as his long fingers hovered over the cover.

“Open it!” Gon urged, excitement starting to grow like a wave.

Killua did as he was told. He frowned down at the first page, head tilted in a way that Gon thought made him very, very cute.

“Gon,” Killua said slowly and Gon perked up.

“Yeah?”

“You destroyed this book,” Killua said flatly and Gon sputtered indignantly. “No, seriously, you did! Do you see this-”

Killua held the book up for Gon to see. On the inside cover was a very messy outline of a whale and a squiggly-looking hill.

“Destroyed!” Killua said again, louder this time. “Ruined! This book was probably nice looking before you finger painted all over it. What would Kurapika say?!”

Most people would find Killua’s remarks insulting but Gon just laughed. He could picture the enraged expression on their shared friend’s face; Kurapika’s elegant eyes would be narrowed in fury and he would be bristling from the top of his golden head all the way down to his toes.

“He’d be really mad, probably,” Gon said and Killua snorted in agreement. “But- Killua, I didn’t have a choice! Destroying this book was my art project, I had to do it even though I didn’t want to!”

Killua’s brows furrowed. “What?”

“Look!” Gon came behind Killua, pointed over his shoulder as he said, “See, that’s Whale Island! And that’s the mountain your family lives on!”

Killua scoffed. “I don’t live on a mountain, Gon, it’s a hill. And if that’s Whale Island, I’m a chocolate-hater.”

“Hey!” He pinched the skin by Killua’s hip, earning him a startled yelp. “Don’t be mean! I think it’s good!”

“Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, Gon,” Killua said and snickered at Gon’s pout.

“Killua-”

“Okay, okay, I get it, don’t worry.” He awkwardly reached back to pat Gon on the head. “I won’t make fun of your non-existent artistic abilities any more. Should I keep going?”

“Yeah!” Gon dropped his chin onto Killua’s shoulder and wound his arms around Killua’s slim waist. He secretly relished the way Killua melted into his embrace and had to force himself to not bury his nose into Killua’s soft hair.

They’d have time for all that when they got back to Gon’s house, anyway.

Distantly, Gon heard Killua flip to another page. “Okay, uh. This looks like….gum wrappers? Maybe? Or the inside of them at least.” Killua squinted. “There’s writing on them…”

Gon hummed happily in agreement. “It’s not all gum wrappers, but a lot of them are. Some of them are just tiny bits of loose leaf. I glued them all to the pages and painted some clear stuff on them so they’d stay good!”

“These are all notes we’ve passed during classes,” Killua said quietly, running the tips of his fingers over the ridges between the pages. “You kept them?”

Warmth blossomed inside Gon’s chest. “Mhm. Keep going.”

He felt Killua swallow thickly. He was probably getting a good idea of where this was going; Killua had always been smart despite his total lack of interest in all things academic. Gon knew Killua would figure out the meaning behind the book. It was why he had wanted to show him.

Because this art project wasn’t just about Gon anymore; it was about Killua, too.

Killua turned over the notes page with trembling hands. He sucked in a quiet breath when he saw the next spread and Gon squeezed him lightly.

The following two pages were plastered with photos of Gon and Killua throughout their relationship- the pair covered in mud as children, their proud grins after a soccer game during middle school, a teenage Killua looking at the camera like he was in The Office while Gon waved his broken arm at the camera….

It was them. Just Killua and Gon and their relationship and it was beautiful.

“This is my favorite page,” Gon confessed and rested his head against Killua’s.

Killua slowly traced a picture of them sleeping in Gon’s bed, half on top each other in a mess of blankets. “How long did this take you to make?”

Gon silently listened to how Killua’s voice quivered, like a leaf in the wind, and allowed himself a small smile.

Killua would never admit to it out loud, but Gon knew how much their relationship had meant to him through the years- and still meant. Coming from a family like the Zoldycks meant that Killua’s only real break was here at school or whenever Gon dragged him back to the Freecss house. Gon represented a peace and acceptance Killua never experienced anywhere else. Seeing physical proof of their adventures and joys, their ups and their downs- all splayed out for the world to see- must be overwhelming for the moonbeam teen.

And for Gon…

Killua was everything. He was Gon’s reason to smile, his reason to laugh. Killua had brought him back to life after Gon’s godfather, Kite, passed away. So every bit of effort put into making this collage had been worth it just to see the look of reverence that was currently on Killua’s face.

“It didn’t take too much time,” Gon said thoughtfully. “I had a lot of pictures of you already so it was just a matter of cutting them out and placing them on the page.” He paused, then peaked at Killua’s awed expression.

“Do you like it?” he asked shyly.

Killua shut his mouth. He chewed on his bottom lip, eyes shining like shards of blue glass. The fact that Killua of all people- the person always ready with a snappy retort or a snide comment rolling off his tongue- was speechless told Gon enough.

“Aww, Killua!” Gon crushed Killua to his chest and nuzzled soft silver locks. “You do like it!”

“Sh-shut up,” Killua protested weakly. His face was dusted pink and his nose wrinkled in a way that could only be described as adorable. “It’s just a bunch of random p-pictures, why are you getting so worked up?”

“I’m not the one getting worked up, Ki-llu-a,” Gon sang and Killua huffed like a grumpy child. “But there’s no need to get embarrassed; it’s just the two of us here.”

“It’s not…” Killua hesitated before flipping to a new page- this one covered with shiny stickers of the stars and the moon and the sun. In the background, scattered words like “love” and “together” and “home” were carefully circled in black sharpie .

“It’s not- what?” Gon asked, confused.

Killua let out a long breath and his bangs flopped. “It’s not that. I mean, yeah, you’re embarrassing as hell but. Gon, this book, it’s.” Killua stopped again, flushing darker and painting his cheeks the colors of a sunset.

“It’s about us,” Killua whispered finally and Gon’s heart throbbed. “Isn’t it? You based your whole art project- this book, every page, every word and drawing- on us.”

The corners of Gon’s mouth curved in a sheepish half-smile. “Guilty, heh. Ms. Siberia said the book needed a theme and I couldn’t think of anything for the longest time. And then she suggested that I should base it on something that I really really care about, something that I love, because that’s going to make me try all the harder. You know?”

Killua looked away. He was trying to hide his reactions from Gon, obviously. But Gon knew Killua too well to be fooled by his tricks.When Killua spoke again, his voice was thick with an indescribable but overwhelming emotion. “And the first thing you thought of was us, huh?”

“‘Course!” Gon hugged Killua closer, knowing he was probably squishing Killua by now but too selfish to let go.

“You’re my favorite person in the whole world, Killua,” Gon said simply. “You’re the person I love most in the world. What else could I possibly choose?”

For a long while, Killua didn’t move. Then he lowered Gon’s book to the table- slowly, very slowly- and twisted around in Gon’s arms.

Gon only caught a split-second glimpse of Killua’s blazing red face before Killua dropped his head onto Gon’s shoulder. He rested his arms on Gon’s shoulders, linking his hands behind Gon’s neck.

“Do you ever realize just how embarrassing you sound when you say stuff like that?” he groaned into Gon’s collarbone. Gon just laughed loudly at that; Killua was always so flustered with Gon’s honestly.

“It’s not embarrassing if it’s true,” he said slyly and reached up to cup Killua’s jaw in his hands. He gently lifted Killua’s head and forced him to meet Gon’s gaze directly.

Killua grimaced. He never knew how to handle Gon’s bluntness when it came to himself, but that was okay. Gon secretly thought it was endearing to see Killua vulnerable and open like this.

Grinning, Gon pressed a quick kiss to one of Killua’s burning cheeks. Seeing the look of sheer mortification on Killua’s face when Gon pulled back only made his smile grow wider.

He teased, “You know, you’re really cute when you’re all flustered like this, Killua.”

Blue eyes widened, enraged. “I am not cute, dammit!”

“Mmm, yeah. You are.” He kissed Killua’s other cheek before Killua could duck out of the way.

Which was bad for Killua, but very, very good for Gon.

Gon saw the chance and took it, pulling Killua close to his chest once more. He peppered small kisses all over Killua’s cheeks and nose, on his forehead and right between his eyes. He kissed every patch of ivory skin available to him, determined to smother Killua as much as possible. He wanted to figure out just how deep Killua’s blush could go and nothing was stopping him. Not even Killua himself.

Distantly Gon heard Killua moan, “Why are you like this? I swear I’m going to explode if you don’t stop.”

Gon giggled with a closed mouth, lips pressed right above one of Killua’s silver eyebrows. He leaned back just enough to beam at his scowling boyfriend. “That’s silly, Killua. You can’t explode from kisses.”

“Well, I can.”

“Noooooo.” Gon carefully lifted Killua’s head once more. “If that were true, you would’ve exploded way before now. Right?”

Killua glared. The ferocity of the look was lost due to the heavy blush lingering on his face, though. “You’re cheeky today, aren’t you?”

“I’m in a good mood,” Gon said happily.

“Yeah, I can tell. You only ever make fun of me this much when you’re in a good mood.”

“I’m not making fun of you, I’m just being affectionate!”

Killua was bristling now. “Why?! Why do you need to be so damn affectionate?!”

“Because,” Gon said, sincerity ringing with every word. “I’m in with love you. I adore you, Killua. What other reason do I need?”

The anger dropped off Killua’s face instantly. He gaped at Gon, blue eyes bright and shimmering while the blush on his cheeks spread to the tips of his ears.

It was kind funny that he could still stun Killua into silence with those words, Gon thought with a crooked smile. It wasn’t like this was the first time Gon had said them, and it definitely wouldn’t be the last. Yet Killua always reacted like he was hearing it brand new.

And Gon loved him even more for that.

Killua’s gaze lowered from Gon’s eyes to his mouth, then darted back up again. There was a longing in his unblinking stare and Gon tried not to look too eager when Killua started to lean forward.

They met in the middle and Killua kissed him softly, tasting sweet and wonderful and good. Gon dropped his hands to Killua’s waist and hummed contentedly into Killua’s lips. He let himself get fully lost in the slow, intimate dance of their mouths, trying to memorize the feel and taste of Killua so he would never forget what it was like to have Killua like this.

Kissing Killua was amazing. Gon loved the small sounds of pleasure that escaped Killua’s lips, the smooth and silky texture of Killua’s pale skin under his hands, the way Killua always responded to Gon like he was all Killua had ever wanted, like Killua wasn’t ever going to let Gon go now that he had him.

Kissing Killua felt a lot to Gon like flying. When he was kissing Killua, he wasn’t Gon anymore: he was a shooting star, a force of nature breathtaking and wondrous in its beauty, with no one in heaven or earth that could stop him.

Killua muttered against Gon’s mouth, fists holding into Gon’s spikes, “You’re such a dork.”

“What d'ya mean?” Gon mumbled back, already tilting his head to capture Killua’s lips again.

“Mmm.” Killua made a small, happy sighing sound and Gon’s heart soared. “I mean-” a kiss, “-who the-” kiss, “-hell-” another kiss, “-makes a bo-mph!!! Gon! Stop, jeez!”

Killua pulled back with a laugh, eyes sparkling like constellations on a clear summer night. Gon let out a low whine at the separation and buried his head into Killua’s shoulder, wrapping his arms snugly around Killua’s hip. His body was buzzing and his head swam; he felt drunk from kissing Killua, high on the simple joy of having the incredible teen in his arms.

“I was saying,” Killua said pointedly as he carded pianist fingers through Gon’s dark brown hair. “Who the hell makes a book for art class inspired by their romantic relationship? That’s so ridiculously cheesy.”

“You like it though-” Gon pressed a kiss onto Killua’s neck, earning him a sharp inhale, “-don’t you?”

“M-Maybe…’s still cheesy, though.”

Gon smirked. He knew it; Killua might grumble and complain, but he secretly loved all romantic gestures, no matter how ‘cheesy’.

“I dunno,” Gon said and lifted his head to beam at his scarlet-faced boyfriend. “I think making a book is pretty original! Not a lot of people can say they have a book made for them.”

Killua pinched one of Gon’s cheeks. “Don’t be an idiot. Haven’t you heard of photo albums before?”

“But- but that’s not even close to being the same thi-”

“Gon,” Killua interrupted with a shake of his head and twitch of his lips. “I was kidding.”

Gon’s skin grew warm. “Oh.”

Killua grinned, an amused fondness shining in the depth of his eyes. He tugged Gon forward by the collar of his shirt to softly kiss him again.

“I think it’s actually really sweet, okay?” Killua admitted lowly and rested his forehead against Gon’s. “You did good.”

Something fluttered in Gon’s chest, light as butterfly wings. “R-Really?”

“Yeah, really. It’s- it’s beautiful. Thank you.”

They were so close that Gon could feel the heat radiating off of Killua’s flushed cheeks. Gon was abruptly overcome with the urge to kiss Killua again and he did, crushing Killua to his chest while running his fingers up and down Killua’s spine. Killua responded in kind and wound his arms tightly around Gon’s shoulders. His nails dug into Gon’s tan skin but Gon just shuddered, loving how Killua clung to him. It made Gon wish that the kiss could go on forever and ever. As long as Killua was in his arms, their bodies and hearts aligned, that was all that mattered.

But like all good things, the kiss had to come to an end eventually. And again, Killua was the one to give Gon’s shoulders a quick, warning squeeze before completely pulling out of Gon’s embrace.

“Oh, don’t give me that look,” Killua said, straightening his rumpled shirt. The sight of Killua- his usually perfect silver curls tousled and lips swollen- sent a rush of heat through Gon. To know that he was the one who made Killua look like that was-

“We have to get back home,” Killua continued, jolting Gon out of his stare. “We’ll miss dinner if we stay here much longer.”

Gon grimaced. He’d much rather skip dinner and stay here kissing Killua until the moon rose in the night sky. But there was Aunt Mito to think about. And the last thing he wanted was for her to come storming into the school looking for them.

“Once I get my own place, we won’t have to stop,” he told Killua bluntly. “We can make dinner and still have all the time in the world to kiss.”

Killua’s blush returned in full force. “Ugh. For once, can you just- not?” he groaned. “Seriously, Gon, we just made out and everything!”

“Nope!” Gon chirped, swinging Killua’s backpack onto his arm with one hand and reaching out to intertwining the other with Killua’s. He could leave his art project here, he decided. Ms. Siberia would be in early tomorrow and had a better idea of where to put it, anyway.

Gon tugged lightly on Killua’s hand, saying cheerfully, “It’s not my fault you’re so easy to tease, Killua. Are you ready to go?”

“I’ve been ready, you were the one who was stalling,” Killua grumbled. But he let himself be led out of the art room without any other complaints, even responding to Gon’s squeeze with one of his own.

Gon just hummed in response. There was no point in arguing; Killua was right. He always was. He was smart and brilliant and wonderful, and Gon wanted to burst from happiness every time he remembered that all of that- all of Killua- was his.

“Love you, Killua,” Gon said, just because he could, and Killua let out a resigned sigh. A small smile graced his lips, though, and that was enough to let Gon know that Killua was happy, too.

“Love you, too. Doofus.”

Gon threw back his head and laughed.

#killugon #hunterxhunter #killua zoldyck #gon freecss #dc writes #between pages #high school au #modern au #au

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evilpjm · 7 years

Text

Crazy | J.H | [A]

Pairing: Reader x Hoseok

Genre: Angst

Word Count: 20,069

Warnings: mention of death, blood((gore?)), reference to sexual assault, foul language

A/N: Finally, it’s here. Technically my VERY first writing piece for tumblr. Be gentle :) This took months of re reading before I got the confidence to post it. I hope someone out there enjoys.

Description: Hoseok is reunited with his ex-girlfriend through a murder case.

My pen fell against the table, breaking the silence barrier between us. The metal chair creaked below him as his body lurched forward to look into my eyes. His parted lips curled up into a smile. It was worrying; holding unspoken threats and malice.

“Tell me, do you think I’m crazy?”

The pungent smell hit my nose as soon as I stepped under the yellow line; snapping my gloves into place as I pulled my mask over my nose. Crouching down, I let my eyes wander over the body that lay across the carpeted flooring now drenched a deep shade of red. Squinting my eyes, I leaned over to examine the damage, but with the amount of blood that had escaped it was nearly impossible to see the stab wounds.

Whoever had committed the crime surely wanted them to suffer; dragging the blade across every limb before impaling the stomach 3, no, 4 times before ending with the good ol’ throat slit. It was messy, painful, and one of the worst ways to go. The death came quick but not quick enough for the victim.

The room was echoing with the faint sound of sirens outside and the chatter of those in the other room attempting to decipher the whereabouts of the killer before too much time passed. It didn’t take long for an individual to escape and a case to be stamped “cold” before being shoved in the bottom of a filing cabinet.

That was the thing about getting into a field of crime. Those stories you looked up to on how hard authorities worked were pretty much a lie, at least for my department. I’ve known what I wanted to do with my life since I was a child watching old detective movies with my father, but little did I know this is what is was all about; ten times less exciting and 50 times more frustrating. I’m always one for a good challenge, but this type of frustration consisted of no one wanting to do their job and leaving me to pick up the loose ends.

“Status on culprit?” I spoke, pushing off my knees to move back into a standing position, grabbing out the notepad from my jacket pocket. The pen clicked in sync with the shuttering cameras that captured the lifeless figure on the floor.

“Clean escape for the most part. Neighbors claimed to hear screaming last night around midnight, and there’s a report of authorities being called due to previous domestic dispute cases with an ex. No charges were ever filed.”

I gripped the paper in my hand, scribbling down the tiny bit of information that was given, hoping it could mix to give me a lead somewhere. I had already been looking into the background of the ex, Jeon Jungkook, a Uni student who had a record of slight abuse when drinking. The victim was a 22 year old waitress with a history of substance abuse herself and she was arrested under the possession of cocaine a year prior. Jeon had supposedly split with her after paying for the bail, she was supposed to pay back but things got messy and the two parted ways after an argument. The hospital visit was set in records, internal bleeding and a broken rib being the case for that specific fight; however he got away with a clean slate.

“The neighbors never called in the screaming?” I questioned, glancing up at the officer in front of me who stood with a slight hunch, the wrinkles protruding around his eyes as he ran a hand over his forehead, the stress of the job clearly lying in on his features.

“They are in questioning down at the station right now, seeing as they were the ones to call in the previous mishaps. It’s unknown right now why they didn’t call this in, but I can only assume they thought it was another silly fight between the two.” His gruff voice was quite the contrast compared to my small frail one, one of the many reasons I was never taken seriously in my field.

“Send me the audio tape when questioning is concluded. Have you run the prints on the murder weapon?” I spoke, crossing out a few things on my notepad as I shifted on my feet, trying not to become lightheaded from the constant smell of blood traveling through my nostrils.

“Fingerprints were sent to be examined first thing. Two matches have been identified.”

“Wonderful, what are the names?” I questioned, flipping over the page to create another cross section.

“Min Yoongi, former co-worker and family friend.” I scribbled the name down quickly, remaining silent as I waited for the other name to fall from his lips. I began writing ‘Jeon Jungkook’ only assuming he would be a possible suspect for obvious reasons.

“-And Jung Hoseok, no related connections between the two.”

My hand stiffened, letting the ink bleed through the page with the amount of pressure I was installing. Jung Hoseok? As in, my Jung Hoseok? It couldn’t be. Not the man who I devoted 2 years of my life to, truly believing he was the one I would marry one day. We had broken it off a year prior due to his growing distance, but he remained the sweetest person I had the honor of knowing. This had to be someone else.

“We have Jung at the station waiting to be questioned; however he refuses to talk to anyone but you.” A hoarse chuckle filled the small space between us, his amusement clear.

All doubts were wiped clear from my mind with one sentence. This was definitely the same Hoseok. But I knew he was incapable of murder. I was the one who had to kill the spiders in our relationship for crying out loud. I knew he had to be framed, and in that instance I made it my objective to prove his innocence.

Opening the large yellow envelope, I grasped the few papers that slipped out, placing them onto my desk with a small clack sounding with the force of the paperclips. The pictures now lay across my view, all showing the wounds I had witnessed in person a mere hours before. The murder weapon was tagged and photographed lying next to the woman’s head, just a smaller carving knife; however it was sharpened with ridges to tear up human flesh more vigorously. The murderer clearly had the intent to cause some suffering before ending the life.

“Evening, detective.” My gaze shifted upwards only to catch onto the stare of my partner, Park Jimin. The annoying man-child officer I was assigned to work with for the time being until he was transferred to another department. He was still new to the field; freshly graduated and ready to be thrown into the mess. He was here to watch over me for a few weeks, maybe even months until they figured out a place to stick him and put him to work at.

I simply let out a low grumble of acknowledgment, breaking away our eye contact to finger through the photos, shoving them aside as I read through the reports. Time of death was stated at 12:14 am, only 6 minutes after the neighbors reported hearing screaming; even if they had called the police, who knows if they would have gotten here in time. Despite the station being a few blocks away, I knew the habits of the men working here and they clearly liked to move slowly.

I could hear Jimin plopping into the chair across from me before the sound of his loud boots clanked onto my desk, making me scrunch my nose.

“So, how about lunch?” His smug voice irked me. I wanted nothing more than to shove his legs off my desk and kick him out of the room.

“M’not hungry.” I mumbled, flipping the page over to read the description of Min Yoongi. He seemed like a fairly decent guy; no criminal record, not even a single speeding ticket like everyone else seemed to gather these days, including myself. It seemed unlikely he would cause any harm to the poor girl, especially since they were co-workers and family friends, but on the other hand I knew Hoseok was incapable of murder; especially something this . . . brutal.

“Come on, you denied me yesterday too. You’ve got to eat eventually.” I shut my eyes for a brief moment, sucking in a deep breath before I climbed over and shook him by the shoulders. It’s not my fault that I despise him so much, he brought it on. From the moment we were partnered he teased my appearance claiming he wanted to be with someone who could actually take someone down. Well, that changed as soon as I had him pinned to the floor with both hands twisted behind his lower back. Still, he would mock and tease, flirt, poke, prod, scream anything to annoy the hell out of me and I’d had enough.

“We’ve got work to do, Park. Go grab something from the vending machine.” I snapped, grabbing my notepad from out of my pocket once more to place beside my keyboard. I flipped through the 4 pages I previously scribbled down on, crossing out false leads and adding simple details that would be to my use later on.

Hoseok remained at the station briefly in a cell waiting for his questioning to come, however I wasn’t ready to face him just yet. Rather it be my lack of knowledge on the case or the stupid butterflies that remained when I heard his name, I couldn’t bring myself to drive to the station just yet. I had to speak with this Min Yoongi kid; he was still at his work I presumed. Unaware of why he wasn’t brought in, I questioned the lead detective of the case but he brushed off my questions and argued it as an invasion of privacy. Working in this field sexism remains but for the most part is lacking. He was an exception however; never wanting to help me in anything unless I suddenly dropped my voice a few octaves and grew a dick. Nonetheless I assume my balls are bigger than his will ever be.

“The vending machine is full of moldy sandwiches and broken candy bars. I’d rather not.” He huffed out, dropping his boots back to the ground with a thud before standing in front of me once more, leaning his hands down on the desk. Without asking permission, the paper that remained in my hand was plucked away and placed in front of his eyes to view. Muttering an insult under my breath, I stood up to gather the rest of the information back into the envelope before grabbing my last sheet back from him.

“C’mon. I need to go find this Yoongi person. We can pick up lunch on the way, but you’re paying.” Slipping the envelope under my arm, I snatched the well-worn jacket off the back of my chair and swung it across my shoulders.

“Ooo, is this a date, detective?” Jimin cooed, biting his bottom lip with a teasing grin. I shot a glare his way, pushing his shoulders forward and forcing him out of the small room. I had the awful urge to slap the look off his face, or to simply lead him into a closet and slam it shut, but he was still my partner and I had to keep the mutual respect alive; or at least as much of a small amount I could muster.

I flicked the light switch down, letting the darkness spread across the walls from the lack of windows. I took the key from my pocket and locked the door upon closing it, not trusting any of the others who worked here. Everyone was always snooping around to invade others privacy and jump into cases in hopes to raise their chances of a bonus.

I followed Jimin out the front door, moving swiftly down the front steps and towards my vehicle parked out front. I unlocked my own door, slipping inside and slamming it shut as I started it up, sighing at the familiar rumbling sound. I heard loud smacks against the outside of the passenger window making me groan.

You can do this, you can do this.

I reassured myself, taking a moment to breathe before unlocking his side, allowing Jimin to step in happily, and ramble about something I didn’t bother to pay attention to. I zoned him out any chance I got which is probably a habit I should break, but he never protests, simple keeps talking to himself.

“So, who is this Hoseok?”

Well that surely caught my attention. Snapping my head over to his direction, I saw his innocent expression and small smile he always seemed to carry around.

“Why are you asking?” I spoke, voice wavering a bit making his eyebrows shoot up in amusement. I always held a strict authoritive tone around him and of course this was a weak spot.

“Oh, so the rumors are right?” He chuckled, leaning back into the leather seat as he threw his arm across the rest.

I chewed on my bottom lip and watched the road with caution as I drove towards the city Yoongi lived in. I should’ve known rumors would fly, but what about exactly? It was no secret I had dated Hoseok seeing as he even visited me at work numerous times to drop off dinner he’d made for us on the day shifts that turned to overnighters, or to pop a coffee in my hands for my early morning investigations. My own boss became accustomed to his presence and the two got along quite well; he even tried recruiting Hoseok for the force but he refused, claiming he was too squeamish to deal with crime.

“Do I want to know these rumors?” I muttered after a moment of silence. I flicked the directional on, letting the sound play over in my head as I waited for his response. It was nothing I hadn’t already presumed.

“Your ex is a murderer!” He laughed out loud. He actually had the audacity to laugh aloud at it. “I figured you were into bad boys, but this seems a bit over the top, don’t you think?” He questioned with a snicker.

“Enough.” I shut up his words, gripping the steering wheel to the point of my knuckles turning white. “He’s innocent.”

His snicker turned to silence and I felt his stare on me but I chose to ignore it while I kept my focus on making it to our destination. I know he didn’t believe me, but I was certain with this. He doesn’t know Hoseok; no one knows him like I do.

I could still remember the sweet words he would whisper into my ear each night as I fell asleep. I was always the weak one despite acting the toughest. Coming home from certain cases I would collapse into the couch with tears favoring whatever victim I dealt with that specific day. The gory images always flashed behind my eyelids every time I shut them resulting in no sleep time. Hobi would grab me in his arms and pull my head to rest over his chest, whispering soothing words into my ears as I dozed off to his heartbeat thumping against my cheek. I loved waking up to his angelic features, drool parting from his chapped lips and nose crinkling whenever his shirt would rise from my movements beside him. He was perfectly imperfect and I loved every inch, freckle, speck, and scar that traced his skin. Every misplaced hair, fallen eyelash, chipped nail and ripped t-shirt he threw on. He was the missing piece to me and he offered the best two years of my life.

“Excuse me for pestering, but why are you so sure he’s innocent? You haven’t even looked into this case yet with his part.” Jimin spoke slowly, as if afraid to hit a nerve within me. Sure, I was unaware of his side. I didn’t know how his prints got onto the murder weapon, but his prints weren’t the only ones either. It had to be a misunderstanding. Hoseok was either framed or simply exchanged contact with Yoongi who killed the poor girl. Besides, Yoongi and she knew one another. Hoseok probably has never even heard of the girls’ name.

“I know him better than anyone else.” I replied shortly, pulling into the parking lot of the old rickety diner. The signed flashed with the exception of a few blown out letters. The outside was slightly falling apart and only two cars were parked outside.

“Are you sure about that?” I turned off the car, facing forwards as my body stiffened in place.

“Of course I’m sure.” I snapped, making him recline further into the seat. I could tell he was a sensitive guy; not fond of being yelled at or insulted in any way. Beats me why he chose such a brutal work field, but I didn’t feel any remorse. I was giving him a taste of the real world.

Opening my door, I got out and steadied myself on the cracked pavement, kicking an old pebble out of my path as I shut and locked the door, moving around to the entrance of the diner as I heard Jimin scramble behind me. His cuffs clinked against his tool belt making me roll my eyes, “Secure your restraints.” I simply spoke as I pushed open the door, an intense smell flooding into my nose. I was used to being hit with different smells on the job and for once I could smell fresh meat that wasn’t rotting human flesh but rather a sweet juicy burger. The comparison stopped my hunger either way as my insides turned.

“Hello! Table for two?” A sweet voice pulled me from my thoughts as I did a double take of the girl standing in front of me. Her dark hair rested in a bun on the top of her head, a few frizzy pieces flying around which I assumed was from the constant back and forth with the kitchen and customers. Her wide smile made her stand out from this rusty run down place full of greasy old men and a stale coffee smell.

“Yes please.” I spoke in a monotone voice, clutching my notepad from within my pocket. Jimin leaned into my side, obviously confused as to why I was grabbing a seat for us both.

“Aren’t we here for the kid?”

“You said you were buying me lunch.” I remarked making him sputter out incoherent words. I followed behind the waitress who I could label as Rina from her worn out nametag resting beside the unbuttoned maroon and yellow work blouse. She handed Jimin and I a menu, and I flipped through with a face of slight disgust, making the boy in front of me giggle once more. I had no intent of purchasing any of this . . . food. Jimin on the other hand was licking his lips while reading over the different options he could ram down his throat. I didn’t want to stroll into this place right away demanding for the criminal, even though it was the right thing to do. What harm was he going to do with a detective and police officer sitting inside his building? Chop up the chef and add him into the food? That only brought back my first thought of rotting flesh which once again brought the swirling nausea. With one call I could have the place surrounded and him being rolled off in the back of a police car; but I liked to take a simpler approach to things. A calm chat would lead to a willing criminal to sit in the back of my regular (yet child proofed) car.

I placed the menu on the table and clinked my nails against the marble knockoff print. Upon looking around, this didn’t seem like a diner that would hold a criminal. Food poisoning? Yes. Murderous criminal? Nah.

The innocent seeming waitress made her way back to us with a little pep in her step that caused me to flicker a small smile. How one managed to hold joy in a place like this was someone strong enough that I’d get along with.

“What can I get you sweeties?” She asked, opening up a notepad quite similar to mine, but her handwritten code decided whether someone wanted tomato and onion while mine decided which murder weapon would result in the blood splatter against the wall. Charming.

“I’ll have the American style cheeseburger; extra fries please.” The boy was way too enthusiastic which just showed how hungry he truly was. How could he eat this filth?

“And for you?”

“Water please.” I mumbled as she scurried off through the swinging doors behind Jimin. I caught a peak of two figures in the kitchen; one seemed to be an older man but the other was young sporting some badly bleached hair. That had to be Yoongi.

“So why are we just sitting here? If I knew we were actually grabbing lunch I could have recommended some place much better.” He teased, shimmying in his seat to get comfortable. The red cushion was cracked, showing the yellow foam inside that didn’t offer much comfort to begin with.

“You said you were hungry. I’m killing two birds with one stone. Feeding you so you shut the hell up and grabbing the culprit on the way out.” I grabbed out my notepad and badge, placing both on the table to relieve the constant pain they gave poking into my hip. My hand reached out to grasp the water that was placed in front of me silently before Rina retreated back to the room again. I could see her gaze flicker on me for a split second as she pushed into the doors and only a moment later did I hear the softened yelling from inside. Wonderful. Perhaps I don’t have to call out the boy myself seeing as I’m sure he was just made aware of my presence.

Jimin started up some small talk as he usually did, but thankfully I didn’t have to endure much of it as we were the only ones in this place to have ordered anything at least recently. The two old men across the diner sat sipping from glasses with empty dishes surrounding them.

Rina shakily placed the plate in front of Jimin and I noticed his frame straighten up excitedly at the sight of food. However, my eyes remained on the poor girl who now refused to make any eye contact with either of us. What a difference from her happy state as we walked in. She scurried away and Jimin dug into the meal.

I watched the grease drip from the burger onto his plate that pooled around the now soggy fries, making me want to gag. Swirling the straw around in my water, I took a sip and eyed the door knowing that at any moment the kid would be walking out. As if right on cue, I saw the familiar bleached blond ends and dark roots making their way over to me with long strides. He wiped his hand on the white apron wrapped around him, but who knows if you can call it white with all the food stains.

“Ah, Min Yoongi?” I questioned with a fake smile. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Jimin furiously wiping at his mouth as he chewed down the gigantic bite as quickly as possible.

“Listen m’am. I’ve told the authorities over and over again that I sent in the child support. The god damn mother is lying about this all. I’ve been trying to arrange a court case for months.” He spoke with a low voice, the tiredness evident in his droopy eyelids.

“Whoa buddy, I’m not here to pity the child that must live in this world knowing it spawned from you. We’ve got bigger issues.” The scowl on his face didn’t go unnoticed.

“Where were you on the night of September 14?” I asked, clicking my pen and twirling it beneath my fingertips.

His face scrunched in confusion as his shoulders dropped lowly. “You mean last night?”

“Well I don’t mean next year.” I retorted, giving a bored expression. I just wanted simple answers to make this process easy. I had to ask routine things before I could just haul him off to the station. I needed at least a tiny bit of suspicion to have that excuse for Park to finally use his, hardly attached, metal cuffs.

“I was here working, as usual.” He scoffed, clearly trying to brush off my serious tone.

“At what time?”

“8 am to 11 pm. Every day. Haven’t you seen the hours on our god damn door?” He sassed, leaning onto the table behind him with crossed arms. I raised my eyebrows but still looked at my notepad, writing down his words.

“Where did you go after work?”

“I walked my girlfriend home.”

“Did you make any other stops?”

“Yeah I stopped by the bank to rob up some extra cash seeing as tips aren’t fulfilling my needs.” He snapped. I simply wrote it down.

“Yah! Don’t write that down, it was a damn joke.” He sputtered out, lurching forwards a bit.

“Ah, sorry Mr. Min. I don’t pick up on sarcasm quite easily.” I said as I crossed out the sentence I had scribbled at the bottom of the page.

“Does the name Lee Boo Rin ring any bells to you?” I asked, moving up to finally look at his face.

“Yeah. . . she used to work here.” He said slowly. I looked into his eyes to try and find any signs of nervousness, but his stare was blank. He didn’t show much emotion so it was hard to read him.

“Why did she quit?”

“How am I supposed to know? She said she found a better job and just up and left.”

“Do you know what her new job was?”

He shifted to the left. Bingo. He was expressing nerves. Eyes shifting back and forth slowly and his breathing skipped a beat. It was very subtle but still something I could notice.

“Don’t think about lying to me Yoongi. I won’t hesitate to cuff you right here in front of your precious little girlfriend.” Looking over at the swinging doors for a second, I could see Rina shiver under my stare making me smirk internally. The power was dripping from me and I loved it.

The boy shuffled his feed and let out a small huff, “She made some money by spending late nights with . . . friends.”

“So she resulted to prostitution?” Wincing under my forwardness was all the confirmation I needed as I hummed and jotted down the information. Typical. Crack addict turned to selling her body just to shoot up.

“Do you have the names of the men she met with? Or even better the location?” I questioned, tapping my finger on my chin.

“I swear I don’t know the name but I do know one guy. She uh. She met him at the corner of Brickstone around 11:30 every Saturday night. That’s all I know.”

Jimin glanced at me in confusion as Yoongi spilled over easily. He portrayed himself as a tough guy but I could tell he was weak on the inside; much like me. He came undone easily just like a loose string that you tug at over and over until it suddenly unravels all at once.

“Thank you, Yoongi. You have been quite the help.” I hummed, shutting the notepad as I shoved it back into my giant coat pocket. Standing up from my seat, I flattened out my shirt and gave a reassuring forced smile. “Now, if you don’t mind I’ll be taking you to the station for questioning.” I said nonchalantly as I glanced at Jimin who sat still shoving the slightly cold fries into his mouth. My look told him all he needed to know and he was soon scrambling to his feet, mumbling something about his unfinished lunch to which I grabbed a styrofoam box from behind my seat, throwing it into his hands.

“What do you mean? I told you all I know. I have no reason to go with you.” Yoongi said a bit angrily this time.

“That’s where your wrong kid. Your fingerprints were found on the murder weapon that killed your co-worker. At this time you are a possible culprit in this homicide. You will be contained in a cell and questioned until proven innocent or guilty.”

I didn’t think his skin could become any paler but as his face dropped so did the red flush from his cheeks; I thought he was going to be sick. Stuttering out a small “what” I simply grabbed his arm and began to lead him towards the front door. Jimin threw a few bills on the table, bowing to the waitress who awkwardly stood crying in the corner watching her boyfriend being tugged away.

Any second now I was going to burst. The room was eerily silent besides the constant ticking of the damn clock hanging on the wall. I wanted to rip it off the wall and stomp all over it; too much?

We brought Yoongi in and Jimin took over for me which I know Yoongi was thankful for. He didn’t care for my company but Jimin however was a pushover. I had walked back to my room, plopping down at my squeaky chair and throwing my head onto the desk with a groan. I needed to go to see Hoseok. I had to speak with him. I was incredibly nervous to face him seeing as the last time we spoke I was practically begging to get another chance with him.

He had shown signs of leaving for two months. He stayed out later at nights and came home only to go straight to bed saying dance tired him out; but he was never groggy or that drained. I would try and talk to him but his responses became less and less. He didn’t smile as much or crack as many jokes. A week before breaking it off he stopped holding me. I no longer fell asleep to his heartbeat in sync with mine but instead clutched the cold pillow to my chest and stared at the wall for hours on end while he shifted around in his sleep.

He broke it off on a Sunday afternoon. I got up around 11 and saw his figure still sprawled on his side of the bed; t-shirt rising slightly to show his smooth back. I wished I could nuzzle into his side and pepper soft kisses on his neck to wake him up but he only pushed me off with a groan those days so I never bothered. I made my way into the kitchen and cooked up his favorite breakfast while pouring a large mug of coffee, also prepared his ideal way. His loud footsteps traveled into the kitchen making me smile but it dropped when I saw a bag in his hand. I questioned him but he ignored me, placing it down with a loud sigh. He looked straight into my eyes to confess he had fallen out of love. When? I’m not sure. I don’t think he even knew. His chapped lips moved against one another but I zoned it all out with the tears springing to my eyes. The steam from his coffee mug rose into my pores; still burning my hand as I held it with a weaker grip. I was afraid it’d drop, so I placed it on the counter before falling against the marble myself. He let out a pitiful sigh after his short speech and went back to our room to gather the rest of his things. He only took what he needed and left the rest for me to cry over; clutching old sweaters into my arms to fall asleep for weeks to come. His necklace hung in the jewelry box on the dresser. Hat shoved into the back of the closet along with old dance shoes. Our pictures hung on the walls and his cologne sat on the shelf next to my perfume. He left that way without another word. Without grabbing the food to go or even acknowledging the warm drink. The door slammed shut and I tasted the coffee. Bitter.

I texted him numerous times asking to meet up and talk but I was always left on read. I assumed he found someone else, but he never showed signs of dating. I still had his social media pages open. He danced, he relaxed, and he lived on. He was fine without me and yet I remained a mess. Why is it that I’m a detective and I can’t trace back to the moment in time his heart stopped longing for mine? Why couldn’t I see the clues? His murder weapon was his words that shot through my chest like a handgun. Or that killer smile. He was a murderer of emotions but that still didn’t prove his guilt for this specific case.

I realized my mind was traveling too far into the past so I walked into the hallway making a b-line for the bathroom. My shaky hands turned on the cold water, splashing some onto my face. This was no proactive commercial, it didn’t refresh me perfectly and cleanse my face alone; the water flew all over my shirt and the floor making me flinch. I dried my hands onto my jeans and walked outside to come face to face with my boss.

“There you are! I’ve been waiting for you to come out of that damn room. We need to get this case moving so either you question the boy or I will force it out of him the hard way.” He growled. Rolling my eyes slowly to myself, I pushed past his side to head back towards my room.

“I’m heading over now sir; there is no need to force anything out of him.” I shoved my coat off and threw it to my chair before fixing my hair to frame my cheeks better. Why was I worried about my appearance?

Oh that’s right; you’re still hopelessly in love with your ex.

“The audio has been recorded and sent to you from the neighbor’s interrogation. Written form is placed into the folder waiting for you with all the information we have gathered on Jung Hoseok as well. I saw Seokjin bring in Min Yoongi. He will be next for questioning unless you prefer to do it yourself as well as Jung?”

I shook my head, twisting my ankle around in my loose boot. “Go ahead and question him. Send me the reports once more and when I feel the need to gather more information myself I will do so. Keep him in a separate cell from Jung right now.”

It was finally time to face him; there’s no going back.

I could smell his cologne. He was suffocating me without even being in the same room. I stood outside the door for 5 maybe 10 minutes. 20 minutes tops. My head was throbbing and I placed my cold hand on the doorknob countless times but never found the strength to swing it open.

I was alone. Two men resided in the room opposite the mirrored wall that Hoseok had sight off. They would watch to make sure he didn’t make any sudden movements or threaten me in any way. But why would he? The nerves aren’t evident because I’m afraid of what he might have done, no. They are evident because I’m afraid of falling apart under his stare. He still holds my heart and I’ve never given it to anyone else. He is the only one to break down my hard shell.

With a huff, puff, and sigh, I grabbed the door and swung it open without hesitation this time. However, the idea wasn’t well thought through as the door swung open so hard it crashed into the wall and left a scratch mark. I saw his head snap up and those shocked eyes softened until he started to smile at my presence; unable to mask the small giggles that fell out from my clumsiness.

Clearing my throat, I softly shut the door and moved to sit across from him. The file sat to my right just where it was promised to be. I silently grabbed it, opening the first page as his eyes bore into my face making me heat up.

“Good evening, Hoseok.” I spoke in a professional tone as I cleared my throat and placed my finger on his file. Scanning over it, I was met with everything I pretty much already knew. His birthday, birth place, previous jobs and living arrangements. His late payments with insurance and the speeding ticket he received a few years back. Everything was placed out so well to explain every bit of him. Every bit that proved his innocence.

“Good evening.” He spoke, adding my name with a click of his tongue. The way my name sprawled off his lips made me bite my own before finally looking up to meet his eyes.

He was dressed in a silk blue button down shirt that resembled pjs, but I didn’t question it. He was plucked from his home and I assumed it was what his attire consisted of; he was always in pajamas every chance he got. His hair was different than the year before I saw him as my own. Instead of the luscious black locks I was now met with a beautiful orange cut that only seemed to complement him more. He stood out in contrast against the white walls of the interrogation room; already quite different than the black and grey rooms most were used to, what I was used to. But now the officials claimed to take a different approach and view white as purity. Make the victims come clean however they thought that would work. The color of the damn wall doesn’t inspire someone to magically confess to committing fraud or shooting a man.

I placed his papers aside and grabbed out my pen and notepad once more; the familiar leather bound stationary molding perfectly in my hand after all this time of use. I opened up to the page right after Min Yoongis and looked at the man across from me.

“Tell me, Hoseok, where were you last night?” I questioned as I searched for any signs of a lie. I knew his every movement. He would flicker his gaze to the left, fidget with his right hand, tug at his earlobe or cough into his arm whenever he got nervous. However, none of these signs showed as he spoke with ease.

“I was at the dance studio working with Jin hyung, you remember him don’t you? He’s trying to get more into dance so I’ve been staying later than usual to help out. You can call him to confirm, I have his number.”

“Mm, what is it? And how long were you there until? Where did you go after?”

He spoke the number slowly as I scribbled down the numbers, “I remained in the studio until 12:15ish where Jin then drove me home and I got into my apartment around 12:40.”

“And how are you in relation to Lee Boo Rin?” His eyes brows scrunched together in confusion and it only made my heart hurt more. He was clueless. Why was he even here?

“I’m sorry; the name doesn’t ring a bell.”

I sighed, twirling the pen in my fingers slightly. “Well Hoseok, Boo Rin was murdered last night inside her apartment. And your fingerprints were found to be a match on the murder weapon.” He nearly choked on his own spit, shifting in his seat to place his hands on the table.

“My . . . my god. That’s horrible.” His breathing quickened and I swear I saw tears nearly prick to the surface of his eyes. As long as I had known him, death was a sensitive topic. He has watched his own sister be murdered before his eyes at a young age. I assumed that had a big role as to why he was always so caring and harmless. Other than trapping himself in his own ‘joyful’ state, he also never wanted to inflict the pain he felt and he knew his sister felt, therefore making it his sole purpose to react to the world with a smile.

“She was murdered close to midnight last night. Your prints along with another’s were found to be a match on this knife.” I paused my sentence to grab out a photo from the vanilla file and sliding it in front of me. It was the photo of the weapon alone, still with a bit of blood on the spiked edges. Hoseok squirmed slightly in his seat and didn’t keep his stare on the photograph for too long. I placed it to the side of me as I grabbed out more pictures, keeping these to myself for now. I read over the extra pages that I hadn’t before and I felt my stomach drop at the paragraphs printed.

“Under examination signs show she was forced into sexual acts. Bruises were found atop both her wrists as well as her inner thighs. It’s evident the culprit forced themselves upon her briefly before the murder.” I gulped out trying to stay in a stern tone but I felt my throat wanting to crack on me. The idea of rape was something to always hit an extra nerve when it came to victims I dealt with. Reading the explicit details, which I spared Hoseok, I let out a shaky sigh. DNA examples were being sent in and it should help determine the true murderer.

I remained silent before shoving more photos before his eyes. Hoseok didn’t speak a single word but his actions spoke enough. He gagged at the more gore filled photos and began to glance at the trash can towards the corner of the room.

“P-Please. I don’t want to look at anymore.” He muttered, shutting his eyes to inhale deeply. Reluctantly, I gathered all glossy papers and shoved them under the file so neither of us has to witness any more than needed.

Crossing my fingers, I placed them on the table and looked at his face that was now facing his own lap. “Hobi, I know it wasn’t you.” I whispered so softly he almost didn’t hear me, which also meant the mics wouldn’t pick up on it beyond the wall behind Hoseok.

He slowly lifted his gaze into mine. “I promise you I will put an end to this. You will not be blamed. I’ll find out who framed you and why. They will rot behind bars and you can forget about all of this.” I mumbled, eyes glancing around as I cleared my throat and sat back up straight in order to look normal to the watching eyes.

“Whoever did this was beyond crazy. It’s sickening to think the poor girl had to suffer.” I said with a sigh as Hoseok took in my words and sat in silence for a minute or two more.

“Tell me, do you think I’m crazy?”

For an unknown reason, I felt a chill crawl up my spine under his gaze. It seemed . . . different compared to the rest of the time I’d been in here with him.

“No.” I mumbled without hesitation. No, I didn’t find him crazy. He was my innocent Hoseok. That’s all he’d ever be.

“Kim Namjoon.”

I jumped, dropping my folder to the ground with a small yelp leaving my lips. I’d left the interrogation room and was on my way back down the long hall to my office when I heard his loud voice next to me.

“What the hell Jimin?” I gasped out, leaning down to pick up the spilled files.

“Kim Namjoon.” He repeated. “That’s the man Boo Rin was meeting up with each Saturday.”

Instead of scolding him for giving me a startle, I perked up at the mention of new information. “How did you find that out?” I asked with eyes widening.

He smirked, obviously feeling proud of himself. “I did some research and made some phone calls. Turns out Kim is a regular customer when it comes to some late night extravaganzas. He owns the music shop on the main road so the man makes good profits. Clearly he has enough to spend on women who won’t attach themselves emotionally. He paid good money each weekend to spend some time with her, however everything was met with consent and he has been on a business trip for this entire week. His flight comes in tomorrow morning so we can call out the idea of him causing this mess. However, he may be helpful.” Jimin spilled out in a normal tone compared to his usual playful one. I nodded, unable to stop my small smile.

“I’m impressed Park.” His eyes lit up at my compliment and it made him seem like a giddy child.

He accompanied my walk back to the office and this time I gave into his rambling. The kid was in too good of a mood for me to bring him down now.

I gathered my belongings for the end of the day and packed up my small room once again with the lock to finish it off. My eyes ached from the long day and at this point I was ready to fall into my bed and sleep soundly. Yet, I still had to tie up some loose ends before I could doze off.

I sent Jimin home, despite him trying to wait for me until I was finished. He reluctantly left with a playful sigh, getting in his own car and driving home until we would meet again the next morning. I knocked on my own boss’ door, tapping my foot as I waited for a response. With a small grumbled out remark I took it as a ‘come in’ and pushed open the door as his blinds shook.

“Good evening, sir.” I addressed with a bow as he ignored my words, eyes still lingering on the paper in his hand.

“I just wanted to know the status on Min Yoongi and Jung Hoseok.”

“Both are contained in their cell.”

I paused. “Cell?”

He looked up, raising an eyebrow. “Do you have a problem detective?”

“With all due respect sir, shouldn’t you have placed them in different cells? It’s one thing to room two culprits together, but ones from the same case? It doesn’t seem safe. They believe one another framed them practically. What if they start a fight?” My voice grew in worry as I rushed out my words but he remained unphased.

“We have a guard, you know that. If anything were to happen we would sort it out. The other cell is closed off. They found the sink to be detachable meaning if one of them would be smart enough, they could manage an escape through our damn crumbled walls. I’m not having another escape on my hands it took long enough to cover up the first one.” He said angrily as I thought back to a few years prior. This place wasn’t the best to say the least. Of course all stations made mistakes, but I believe we are in the running for worst there is. The only reason I remain here is because it’s where I’ve grown up. The thought of leaving the only life I’ve known is far too risky for someone like me.

Reluctantly I let the topic drop, knowing our best guard Seokjin was on duty. If anything were to start, he could just use those jumbo shoulders to knock one of them out cold. I nearly giggled at the thought, having to quickly clear my throat and bow once more as I mumbled a proper goodbye to my superior.

Making my way out of the building I managed to slip into my car and arrive at my apartment in record time. As soon as my head hit the pillow I felt the exhaustion taking over until I was sound asleep above the covers.

I chewed on the pen cap with furrowed eyebrows as I held the headphones up with one hand over my ears, listening intently to the interrogations I was not in attendance for. The neighbors seemed like sweet people but also incredibly clueless ones if that. They asked the same questions over and over, not comprehending a thing. They wouldn’t clearly state why they never called in previous cases or this one in particular. They gave brief sentences that would get them off the hook but still leave us scratching our heads.

Yoongi’s interrogation however was just an absolute shit show. The poor kid broke down into sobs halfway through and had to be escorted out to take a breather and receive a hug from Officer Kim Seokjin, that absolute softy. His ‘strong guy’ image was ruined quicker than I thought. It seemed he was under too much pressure, yet somehow hearing his words and attitude it wasn’t of guilt but just pure fear. Innocent fear. But he had to be playing an act, a good one at that.

I nearly jumped out of my skin as Jimin’s face appeared upside down in front of mine. I threw the headphones onto the desk and clutched my heart, heaving out a grumble of his name which he only giggled in response to before sitting on my desk to swing his legs.

“What the hell do you want Park?! Yah, I told you to stop sneaking up on me like that!” I pouted slightly, my heart still racing but slowly calming back down.

“You’re cute when you’re scared.” He teased, smiling wide as his legs continued swinging, scuffing the bottom of my desk. I slapped his thigh which made him stop for now.

“What do you want?” I repeated myself, grabbing the headphones and placing them inside my drawer as I stopped the recorders playback.

“I brought in that Kim Namjoon dude. He offered to tell us anything we needed to know about Boo Rin that he knows of himself. Nice dude. He bought me a coffee.” He said happily.

“You hate coffee.” I replied in a bored tone.

“That’s why I ordered it the way you like it!” He boasted, passing over the cup that was held in his right hand. I raised an eyebrow but slowly took it from his hand anyways, inhaling the sweet vanilla scent.

“Mm, thank you Jimin.” I hummed in response, taking a small sip as it burnt my throat a bit.

“You called me Jimin!” He borderline squealed to which I rolled my eyes, mumbling another shut up Park but despite my harmful words he never stopped smiling. Typical.

I stood up, pushing in my chair as I walked towards the door, coffee in hand. “Let’s go speak with him.” I demanded, hearing him shuffle after me, those damn handcuffs still clacking loudly against his belt.

“Park, I told you to secure your restraints a million times.” I groaned out as he came up behind me in the doorway.

“Why detective? Don’t you want to see me put them to good use?” He mumbled in a deeper tone, making my eyes widen as I turned to look at him. Not expecting such a response, my cheeks lit pink and I scurried away, patting them gently as he cackled from behind, shutting my door and following along behind me to the interrogation room.

I sat down on the right, Jimin to my left as I mindlessly sipped the coffee still. The boy in front of me held an amused stare as he watched me hold the familiar coffee cup.

“Good Morning, Namjoon.” I greeted with a small smile. “I thank you for agreeing to come in for this. Any and all answers we receive are a great help.” I hummed, grabbing out the familiar notepad.

“Let’s start with the basics. How did you meet Boo Rin?” I questioned. Of course his cheeks flushed in embarrassment, just as any man probably would in this situation.

“I . . ahem. I heard a few men talking about the . . . services displayed at the corner of Brickstone while they shopped in my store one afternoon. I decided to check it out for myself seeing as I don’t want any strings attached. She was the first girl I saw at the corner. I approached her and she confirmed her . . . occupation.” His words were slow and came out almost like questions. I wrote down the information, knowing he was nervous he’d get in trouble for prostitution, but yet it was the least of my worries at this time. “After that we met regularly. She didn’t share a lot of personal information with me, but sometimes she would get tipsy and spill some details.” I perked up, intrigued. As if seeing my stare, he knew to go on.

“She told me about her abusive ex. He was young and dumb. He drank too much and took out his stress on her when she irked him extra. She said he left after the last fight and never came in contact with her again. She did show up with some more bruises after that though, but claimed it wasn’t Jungkook. I tried questioning it but she didn’t let it slip until she got super tipsy. She said another client of hers was a bit too physical. I didn’t catch the name, but she said he was a bit shorter than I am with a skinnier build. Wide smile. But that’s all I know.”

I flipped the page, scribbling down more information after he finished speaking before I looked up at him gratefully. This was a big help. If we could find out how visited that corner frequently besides Kim, we’d have a big lead. Perhaps it was Yoongi all along and we could crack down his ‘innocent’ façade and throw him behind bars so this will all end.

“Thank you, Namjoon. This is quite helpful. If you can remember any more specific details you have Officer Parks number as well as mine.” I said, slipping him my card. He nodded, slipping it into his coat pocket.

I stood up, sipping my coffee once more as I nodded to Jimin. “Escort him out, and then you and I will visit Brickstone to get some questions answered.”

“Yes m’am!” He replied, moving over to Kim to grab his arm and lead him out. It looked amusing considering how small the poor boy looked compared to damn daddy long legs by his side. I chugged down the rest of my beverage and threw the cup out, already feeling a bit more awake. Tugging on my coat, I met Jimin outside in my car just as I did the previous day.

It’s time to get some answers and prove Hoseok innocent for once and for all.

“What do you mean you can’t tell me that information?” I barked out, shoving my badge into the woman’s face for the umpteenth time. She crossed her arms, nose scrunched but not budging her stance. A cigarette hung from her lips, the smoke leaking out and making my eyes water. Her top lung how showing off her exposed cleavage and saggy tattoos.

“I declare you get a warrant before I tell you anything.” She repeated herself.

I stood staring with a dumbfounded look. “That’s . . .This. That is now how any of this works!” I shouted, throwing my hands up. I was standing here on the corner of the street trying to convince the woman leaning against the pole to spill information. I had every right. At any second I could handcuff her and put her under arrest for prostitution but I was being nice! Yet she was acting as a total dumbass and declaring a warrant. A warrant for me to ask her questions. On public property.

I heaved out a loud sigh, lifting my hand in the air and flicking my fingers as signal. Seconds later I heard a car door open and slam shut, loud boots stepping towards me from behind. I had kept Jimin in the car until I needed him, but the time seemed to come sooner than I had intended.

Instantly the woman perked up, pulling her shirt down a bit more as she smashed the bud into the ground with her heel.

“Hello officer, how can I help you?” She asked in a sickeningly sweet tone. Jimin turned to me with a raised eyebrow. I pulled down his collar, whispering into his ear as he snickered.

“Ah, hello Ms. . .” He trailed off.

“Call me Rose.” She winked, shifting closer. I could tell he was uncomfortable, but he proceeded on knowing he had to get answers out of her.

“Ah, Rose. Wonderful to meet you. Do you think I can ask you a few questions?” He asked kindly with a tilt of his head.

“Oh, of course!” She giggled obnoxiously as I held back a gag.

“Wonderful.” He gave her his signature eye smile before crossing his arms, puffing out his chest slightly. I noticed the woman lick her lips and at this point I feared for the purity of my poor partner. This cougar was ready to pounce.

“Can you tell us about your client Lee Boo Rin?”

“Hm! Oh yes. She was very popular among the men but she limited herself to two clients.”

“Can you tell us more about these clients?”

“One is the tall handsome man who owns the music store.” She spoke, gesturing towards the direction of his building. “The other I’m not too sure of. He always came in a disguise.”

“What kind of disguise?” I asked, however she stayed silent and ignored me.

“What kind of disguise?” Jimin asked this time, and she immediately answered.

“Always all black. Black face mask and glasses, even at night. Leather coat laced with some red thread writing on the back. That’s all I can say.” She sighed, resting a hand on Jimin’s arm.

“Yah! That’s alright. You’ve been quite the help.” Jimin lied, quickly pulling away and clearing his throat. I snickered, patting his back.

“Thank you for your time Rose, we’ll be going now.” I spoke, knowing she wouldn’t give us anything else we could use.

“Have a great day, Officer!” she yelled out as we walked away. Quickly I got back into the vehicle where Jimin immediately scrambled around in his pockets, pulling out hand sanitizer and lathering his arms up making me laugh even more.

“Hand sanitizer won’t help; at this point you may just have to cut off your arm.” I joked, flipping on my lights as I drove off.

“Hardy har har. You’re hilarious.” He mumbled with a scrunched face, wiping the excess liquid on his navy blue pants. The information given wasn’t a lot, but even the disguise was better than nothing. We had to search around the usual places the two would meet up at which included the cheapest hotels in the area, perhaps items were left behind or fingerprints were left from the previous encounter, it was only a matter of time until everything fell into place. I had to remind myself we were still waiting for the DNA samples to come in as well. As soon as we had that file the culprit would be revealed!

“Take a right up the road.”

I glanced over towards Jimin, watching as he tapped furiously on his phone. “That’s the opposite way from the station.” I spoke slowly.

“Exactly. We’re going to my place.”

“Park I’m not going to your place. You have your own vehicle at the station; I will drop you off there.” He threw his phone down with a pout, turning all his attention on me.

“Please! I will be late if I don’t go get ready now. Please just do me this favor.” He pleaded, grabbing onto my arm to which I shook him off gently, taking the right and continuing down the winding road.

“Aish, whatever. I’ll drop you off.”

“Well . . .” He dragged out his words causing me to roll my eyes. What else did this boy need?

“Could you perhaps wait and drive me to a second destination? Also take the next left.”

I followed his directions, turning down yet another road as the trees whipped past. “You owe me Park. Where are you even going?”

“On a date.” He mumbled shyly as I let out a dramatic fake gasp.

“You mean women are actually willing to spend time with you?” With a smack to my arm and a loud “yah!” I was left a giggling mess under his playful gaze. We remained silent for the most part the rest of the way besides him telling me the directions. In less than ten minutes we had arrived at a small house covered in fake stone and black shutters; simple yet warm.

“You can come in, it won’t take long.”

“No, it’s alright I will stay in here.” I said, unbuckling my seatbelt as I got cozy in the seat. He simply shrugged, knowing not to push me any further. I simply had no reason to step inside his home, and I was almost positive it’d take him longer knowing I was in the house instead of waiting in the car. I was simply rushing him.

“Here, leave your belt. I can bring the items back to the station for you.” I offered as he unbuckled the belt containing all his items, including a gun however his was empty of bullets. More or less it was for intimidation. Before handing it over, he unclipped the handcuffs and shoved them into his back pocket as I raised an eyebrow.

“I’ll be needing those tonight.” He winked as I groaned in disgust.

“Please, spare me the details.” I growled, throwing his stuff into the back of my car. With roaring laughter, he shut the door and moved up to his home, disappearing inside to ready himself.

I flicked the switch on the radio in hopes some good music would be on, but as usual it was just the next kpop hit coming from a girl group. Something about knocking? As much as I tried to find disgust in the mainstream pop, I found myself humming along to the chorus the second time around.

I wasn’t left in the vehicle long, seeing as Jimin came rushing out of his door with jacket half on, hopping on one foot while he slipped his boot on. I snickered as he opened the door, plopping down and clicking his seatbelt into place. Glancing at his figure, I noticed his hair no longer fell across his eyes as it did, but was now pushed back to expose his forehead. He looked more mature, and quite attractive there was no doubt. It’s not like I never saw the attraction with him, but it wasn’t overwhelming. But now I felt like I was drowning into him, or perhaps that was just the suffocating feeling from the amount of cologne he had on.

“Like what you see detective?” He winked. “Just say the word and I can cancel this date. I’d much rather take you out instead.”

I rolled my eyes, turning away to hide the blush as I flicked on the car lights. “Don’t be a flirt Park, just give me the directions.”

And that’s how I found myself driving him off to his date like he was some kid getting a chaperone to attend. I was just thankful I didn’t have to pick him up, however the handcuff comment still lingered in my mind making me squirm.

Days passed as I remained in my office, scrambling through reports and photos, trying to match Yoongi to the evidence but it was harder than I thought. Usually my instincts were great and I could pinpoint the culprit right away and the connections would click, but this time nothing seemed to work. I threw my pen on the desk, throwing my head into my hands as I rubbed at my aching temples.

“Mm, maybe you should stop focusing on Min Yoongi.” I heard Jimin speak from behind me as he slammed shut the microwave door, moving over to sit across from me as he stirred his cup of noodles.

“Who else am I supposed to focus on?” I sassed, sighing as I shifted through the folders again.

“Chug Pogsoak mwo alse?”

“You want to repeat that without a mouthful of food?” I raised an eyebrow, watching as he chewed and wiped his mouth on his sleeve.

“I said, Jung Hoseok, who else?”

“Why would I focus on him? I know he’s innocent.” I said plainly, putting down Yoongis folder.

He scoffed, sitting up in his chair. “You can’t play him out of this. Just because you dated the kid doesn’t mean you know him.”

“Yes, I do.” I challenged

“Oh really now?” He rolled his eyes, shoving more noodles in his mouth as I grew a bit angrier.

“You have no right to question my motives. I know what I’m doing here Park.”

“Sure seems like it.” He sassed in-between bites.

I huffed, shifting my gaze away from him. He didn’t get to tell me off like that. Hoseok has no part in this crime and I know it for a fact, but as these days have passed he kept bringing up his name, convinced he played a role. I shot it down each time.

“Humor me.”

“How so?”

“Just look into his file.”

“This is a waste of time, Park.” I replied hastily.

“Well, you’ve wasted the past three days without finding a lead, what’s another night?” He smirked as I resisted the urge to flick his exposed forehead, hair messily falling to the sides from how often he ran his hands through it. Ever since my gaze lingered a bit too long on his date night, he had worn his hair up more.

“Whatever.” I mumbled, reluctantly plucking his file from the bottom of the pile.

I shifted through the papers, pulling out some sheets and reading through the information, however it was all blah blah old news to me. This was incredibly stupid. Instead of reading into his background for the hundredth time, I opened up my laptop and typed in his Instagram username with a small smile.

Clicking on the first image, I was met with a photo of his TV and snacks sprawled on his table.

Posted 12 days ago.

Late night dance practices always lead to binge eating while watching reruns #whatissleep #imsosore

I snickered, clicking next as I was then met with an adorable smiling selfie. God, I missed that smile. I clicked next once again, falling slowly into his charms with each click of a button. It wasn’t until I clicked on an outfit of the day post that my heart skipped a beat.

Swung over his shoulder was a leather jacket with red embroidering on the back. I gulped, thinking back to a few days prior.

“What kind of disguise?” Jimin asked this time, and she immediately answered.

“Always all black. Black face mask and glasses, even at night. Leather coat laced with some red thread writing on the back. That’s all I can say.” She sighed, resting a hand on Jimin’s arm.

I hadn’t even noticed Jimin moved behind me until I felt his chest vibrate against my shoulder with laughter.

“Well would you look at that, your little boyfriend isn’t as innocent as you thought!” He claimed, slurping the last off his noodles before throwing the cup away.

“This means nothing. There are plenty of jackets out there like his.” I snapped back, slamming the laptop shut.

“Oh come on! How can you keep pushing him aside like this? You’re not taking this job seriously! You can’t play favorites when someone was murdered here! This isn’t an innocent case of him stealing some gum from the corner store!”

My eyes widened at the sudden outburst coming from Jimin beside me. I stood up from my chair, moving face to face with him.

“You do not have the authority to speak to me this way! I am your superior here, you’re just a trainee! Don’t you dare cross this line.” I growled out in defense

“Oh please, don’t pull that card. And I finished my training, thank you. I’m just waiting to be transferred to a different apartment! And god, I can’t wait, maybe my next partner will actually do their job the way they were told to!”

I scoffed, mouth opening a bit as I poked my finger into his chest. “Don’t. Fucking. Start.” I snapped, pushing him with each word. “Like you’ve been any help to this case! You’re worthless to this department! All you do is sit here and annoy the hell out of everyone, mostly me! Why don’t you just take an early leave on this case and get the hell out of here!” I shouted, watching as he no longer had a comeback but instead droopy eyes. I gulped, but kept my cold stare. His arms dropped and he visibly tensed, holding back emotion. Once again I was reminded he was just a young guy with sensitive emotions, and I had broken into his shell too much.

“I can’t believe I ever looked up to you.” He whispered, eyes glossing over as he moved past me to grab his jacket. I stood still, shutting my eyes as I dropped my tense shoulders. I’m not sure if it was the lack of food or sleep, but I was extra cranky and had just royally fucked up with my words.

I heard him slipping on his warm coat before grabbing his phone and keys, wiping at the corner of his eye discreetly but I still noticed.

“Jimin I-“

“Don’t bother.” He snapped. Walking to my door, he stopped to bow, still facing the wall. “It was a pleasure working with you detective.” He spoke through his teeth before walking out with a slam of the door. I winced, falling back into my chair and throwing my head onto the desk.

“Shit!” I yelled out, throwing whatever was next to me across the room which just so happened to be a stapler.

Nice going. You just lost your partner.

Furiously tapping on my keys, I wrote up the conclusion to a small case recently solved by a co-worker. He didn’t have time to gather the finishing loose ends which resulted in me completing the bitch work as usual. Usually I’d complain about doing someone else’s work, or simply argue that it interfered with my own case, but at this moment I was taking any distraction I could with open arms. Since Jimin’s absence two days prior, I had been stuck gloating around my office all the while trying to push this case further away. But as always it snuck back up on me, screaming into my ear for me to finish it up.

My hair was falling out of my messy bun in every direction possible, eyes puffy and red from the amount of rubbing. My clothes were wrinkly and regretfully not smelling the most pleasant seeing as I hadn’t been home since the night Jimin walked out. I had simply crashed on the small broken couch in my office, living off all his old cups of noodles he stored in my cabinet.

Hoseok and Yoongi remained in their cell and so far had no issues which I was surprised. According to Jin’s words as well as the surveillance cameras, both men stayed in their respective corners without even glancing at one another. They both seemed on edge and weary of one another’s possible actions.

A loud knock on my door sounded out as I shifted towards the figure walking in, wiping my mouth in case of any leftover food stains or smeared tinted Chap Stick I applied liberally.

“Good morning Detective.” I cowered slightly under my superiors stare, watching as his eyes shifted around my office, filled with empty noodle cups, napkins, scribbled out papers, paper airplanes, and thrown around office supplies. His nose scrunched up a bit as he refused to even fully step into the room. “I think it’s time you take a break and head home. Just take the rest of the day off.” He spoke, kicking a pencil out of the doorway before looking back at me.

I nodded after a moment, not even trying to fight off the request. I needed a break rather I liked it or not. I wasn’t getting anywhere and I needed to clear my mind. As he stepped out, I managed to clean up the trash as well as placing items back in their respected areas. I tossed my coat over my arm and walked out of my office, not bothering to lock the door as I usually did.

I could hear my shower calling to me even as I stepped into my car; body relaxing into the cozy seats as I started it up, revving the engine a bit before I managed to pull out and begin the short journey home. The last two times I’d been in my car, Jimin was sat at my side talking mindlessly about the cloud shapes, or what he was planning to make for dinner. I oddly missed the noise and was left with nothing but a broken static filled radio to fill my new silence.

What I said wasn’t right, I can admit, but he had no right to invade onto me like that anyways! I know what I’m doing in this field whereas he is still brand new. Yet, he even graduated the academy earlier than everyone else. He’s top of class, top of everything! He was placed with me until they found some place to fit him better. He deserved to work with the best of the best, not low scum like myself. I wanted to call him up and apologize, but yet I felt my doubted pride suffocating the urge.

After pulling into my driveway, I grabbed the keys out, shoving them into my coat pocket while I grabbed the key from the plant beside my door. What a great hiding place, hmm? I know my neighborhoods safe enough where I don’t have to worry about it getting broken into.

Throwing my keys into the dish beside the door now, I kicked off my shoes and began stripping off my clothing layer by layer until I ended up in my bathroom completely bare. I turned the small knob and stepped in to let the warmth absorb me as my shoulders instantly relaxed. With a loud sigh, I shut my eyes and leaned against the wall.

What now?

I now have to take what I’ve gathered and see where it leads to, or who it leads to. Based on results that other specialists have analyzed, there’s got to be a way to connect to Yoongi. Upon searching his apartment, the police found a knife collection that his girlfriend claims he only collected and never used for anything, not even cutting up vegetables let alone murder. His working hours seemed to play him out, but there were no witnesses other than his girlfriend to confirm where he had gone each night. He could clearly hold the description Rose had explained; shorter than Namjoon with a skinny build and wide smile. It was honestly a great match in my eyes and the boy did seem to wear a lot of black as the police saw roaming through his closet’s and drawers.

I just had to prove why Hoseoks prints were on that knife and it was a clean cut!

I lathered up my body in the deep vanilla scent, rinsing and massaging my scalp to ensure every inch of me was scrubbed deeply. After stepping out and wrapping myself in a towel, I made my way to my room to slip into an oversized shirt and long plaid pants. Falling onto my bed, I buried my face into the pillow and let sleep take over, despite it still being early in the evening. I wished to have a refreshed mind to walk into the station and lay out all the evidence in hopes to let the officials take my side. It was time to let Hoseok go.

“Good morning Seokjin.” I greeted with a smile, admiring the man who sat in his chair towards the middle of the room.

“Ah, please, just all me Jin. Good morning, detective!” His large smile was contagious as he flicked the hair from his eyes, moving back down to type through his laptop. I doubted he was completing any work but rather playing another pc game as he loved to do.

I walked past the wooden desk, making my way over to the cell that still held the two men I hadn’t seen since bringing them both into questioning.

At the sound of my boots, both heads slowly looked up to meet my eyes however their reactions were quite the opposite of one another. Hoseok instantly smiled wide, moving towards the edge of the bars to get a closer look at me; meanwhile Yoongi shot a deep glare from his laying position on the bed, flipping over to face the well.

Hoseok called out my name in greeting, causing my heart to skip slightly. Why did he still have such a strong hold over me? Even with his figure being behind bars, I couldn’t help but move as close as possible until his stale cologne faded into my airways. He was still dressed in his silk shirt, although a few more buttons were undone to match his disheveled hair; It was a look I had seen plenty of times throughout our relationship, however that façade usually appeared after a night of withering between the sheets; not from tossing and turning uncomfortably in the cells bed.

Looking into his eyes this way only brought back the distant memories of the intimacy we shared with one another. His long calloused hands always smoothed their way down my bare skin, covering every inch alongside his soft lips to make sure I felt like a prized jewel. His sweet words were imprinted into my mind and he was about as vanilla as my perfume. I tried to change it up but he was always comfortable with the same old methods each time. Despite that, he always left my breathless no matter the circumstances. Rather it be the way his body moved as if fluent in the language of motion, or the higher pitched whines he would whimper into my neck, he always drove me crazy until I couldn’t take it anymore.

“Detective?”

I snapped my gaze away from my blank stare towards the wall to face Hoseok with furrowed brows. Immediately I flushed a deep red at the thought of being caught with those memories flowing through my mind.

“I-Um. Right. Hoseok, I am going to take you back for some more questioning, alright?” I quickly moved the topic along as I shook the keys out, unlocking his cell. He walked out to my side, allowing me to re shut and lock the metal bars before grabbing his arm to maneuver back out the door and to the interrogation room once again.

Upon sitting down, he was all smiles as he leaned against the table to get even closer to where I remained. This time, I held no files in my hands; no familiar notepad or pens to write information. I had kept it simple with a small recorder to ensure I could take note of anything at a later time, but I doubted the idea of getting anything useful. If nothing else this would go smoothly like talking to an old friend in a coffee shop.

Pressing play, the soft sounds of the tape moving filled the air before my voice echoed out to overpower it.

“Hoseok I have you here today just to clarify and ask a few questions, is that alright?”

“Of course.” His grin was reassuring and gave me a feeling of warmth. It was something I missed.

“Wonderful. I’d like to begin by clarifying your relations to Lee Boo Rin; you have stated you never came in contact or heard of the name, is that correct?”

“Yes, that is correct. Sadly I never knew the poor girl.”

I hummed out in response, clasping my fingers together on the table. “Have you ever received service from the corner of brickstone?” Raising an eyebrow, his head tilted a bit as his wet tongue smoothed over his lips. “Can’t say I have.” A small smirk was now placed on his face causing me to avert my stare.

“Do you walk down that street or the surrounding neighborhood often?”

“I have visited the local library a few streets as well as the music shop, but I don’t visit either place often.”

“The music shop! Are you familiar with the owner, Kim Namjoon?” He visibly stiffened as the question was shot out which instantly put me on an alert. He had been so relaxed and sure of himself, but with the mention of one name the entire mood switched. Noticing his hesitance, I moved a bit closer now.

“Mr. Jung, what is your relationship to Kim Namjoon?” I asked a bit slower this time, moving the tape forwards to be able to catch his every word.

“I have no relations.” His answer was sharp, leaving me to wonder why he was outright lying when he knew I’d pick up on it.

“Mr. Jung, I will ask you one more time and I need the honest truth, what is your relationship to Kim Namjoon?”

He remained silent as I impatiently waited; fingertips running over the bracelet clasped loosely on my left wrist. He avoided my direct stare but instead opted to examine the metal leg of the table.

“He has visited my studio numerous times. We don’t get along well.”

“Ah, so you do know him?” I mused. At this point, I was lacking a bit of my previous assumptions. I still didn’t believe he was capable of murder, but perhaps he was capable of a simpler crime with these suspicions.

“We met a few months back. He criticized my track and sabotaged it by recording over my files I had worked on for months. His apologies were nonexistent and we got into a fight.”

“Did it get physical?”

“Yes.” He regretfully spoke.

“Can you please give a brief playback?”

He shifted his body in the chair, crossing one leg over another as an arm rested on the chairs back behind him. “I initiated the fight by throwing a punch to his face to which he returned the favor. I knocked him to the ground and we continued our fist fight until we both were too weak and full of blood on the ground. It was messy but innocent, I can assure you that.” “Innocent?” I scoffed, not meaning to come across so harsh. “I didn’t take you as a person of violence.” I muttered. He was always so soft and caring, never wanting to harm a thing. The image of him in a fight was unimaginable to me.

“People change.” He spoke with more of a deep tone, causing the familiar chill to run down my spine.

I remained silent, staring into his now cold eyes. Reaching forwards, I pressed the pause button on the recorder causing the room to fall eerily silent.

“That is enough for one day, Mr. Jung.” I whispered, standing up as I moved to the door. Stepping outside, an officer was on guard to which I requested Hoseok be escorted back to the cell. Glancing over my shoulder, his intense glare was burning into me still until I walked away.

I guess people do change, because the man in that room was no longer the Hoseok I loved.

“Where are the DNA results?” I questioned the three men in front of me as they munched on their overfilled sandwiches, a soggy tomato falling onto the lap of the eldest man in the middle.

“Detective, please, this is our lunch break.”

“You’ve been pushing this off for a week now. I demand to see some results. There are no main leads and this is the sole piece of evidence we need to wrap up this case.” I snapped, watching as they all squirmed uneasily. I could tell they were hiding something. They had to be. I was being avoided left and right and the topic of my case was pushed further back than usual.

I tapped my fingers on the table I leaned over, not letting down my stare until one of them cracked. “The DNA sample was lost!”

“Excuse me?” I exclaimed angrily, eyes widening as I straightened up into a standing position. “What the hell do you mean it was lost?” My lips parted, the dry air traveling down my throat as I inhaled angrily.

“We don’t know! I. . just. Somehow during transportation it went missing. We will have to go off the other leads at this point.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me. We don’t have any other leads, face it!”

“Well you sure as hell better find one. I thought you had it pinned on Min?”

I sighed, a hand rubbing my temple. “I did have it pinned on him, but I was told it was too far-fetched.”

“Well we can all agree it’s better than nothing. It seems we have to continue this case as it stands otherwise all our asses will be on the line. I will personally schedule the court hearing.” The man on the right spoke as I chewed on my lip.

“Email me the details.” I spoke through gritted teeth as I pushed myself away, walking out of the lunch room and not bothering to go back to my office. This was insane and yet another reason for me to find this department shitty. I guess it worked out anyways, seeing as Yoongi is now being accused rightfully, but my gut feeling has me wishing the DNA was still around just to extra confirm it all.

With a stiff figure, I walked back to the cell room once more only to see Jin standing by the bars, grabbing out Hoseok from inside. I slowed down my steps, watching with a careful eye. However, Hoseok spotted me and gave away my presence as Jin turned to greet me.

“Hello Detective!”

“Hi Jin, uh, may I ask where you’re taking him?”

“Ah, right. I just got a call from our head office. Hoseok is officially being released.”

Before I could respond, I heard shuffling from inside the cell indicating Yoongi had abruptly stood up.

“What the hell do you mean he’s being released?! You’re telling me that I’m being accused of this murder?”

I bit my lip, watching Jins eyes go soft. “I’m sorry Mr. Min, I am not on this case. But it seems evidence found its way back to you.” With a scream and a kick to the wall, the smaller boy collapsed on the bed, head in hands, and I swore I could hear the soft cries.

My heart clenched. Why did it ache for him? I’d spent all this time forcing the leads to him but why the change of heart in this last second? I looked at Hoseok only to see him with no emotion, watching Yoongi silently as Jin held his arm firmly.

Both men walked past me in silence as Jin led him to the desk for paperwork. I mindlessly stepped in front of the bars to watch Yoongi instead of following Hoseok out.

“It wasn’t me.” He cried out after a minute of silence. “Please.” His voice cracked, “You’ve got to believe me.” The words crawled into my ears and scratched all the way down my throat, making me cough out into my arm. My eyes watered from the intrusion as I simply remained in my standing position.

“There is no way to prove you innocent Mr. Min. I apologize, but I cannot take spoken word as evidence to free you.” He sniffled wiping his nose on his battered up sleeve.

“How long will I get?” He hesitantly asked, no longer hiding his face in his hands but still staring at the ground.

“That is for the judge to decide.” My words didn’t fill him up fully, he wanted more. With hesitance, I spoke once again. “Perhaps 20 years, if not more. It’s common around here for longer time, some getting life. I cannot say for sure.”

Silence overtook the room once more as the clicking of the tock engraved its routine timing into my mind. I had no words to relieve him of his pain, but I felt sympathy towards him. Was that wrong to feel emotion for a criminal? It still had to be him, but perhaps he was. . . insane? With these mood swings, it seemed as if there was something deeper playing a part.

“I can send you in for medical examination, you can plead insane, and your time may be less or spent at a facility instead.”

“I’m not crazy.” He snapped, eyes shifting upwards to glare at me, his broken tone no longer there.

Sure seems like a bit of crazy to me there, buddy

“Your loss.” I whispered, but instead of the mocking view it just came out in pain. They would not treat him well in prison. No, not at all. He was going to be brutally abused mentally and physically, seeing as he’d be attending a higher security prison. It broke my heart but with a sharp tongue, I told myself to never find pity on those who do it to themselves. So without another word, I turned away and walked out of the room, leaving Yoongi alone to be swallowed by his own thoughts

“Do you ever think about the future?” His hands fiddled with my own beneath the sheets, eyes boring into the ceiling lit simply by the moonlight peeking through. I let out a hum, tracing my thumb over his smooth wrist as I twisted my legs between his to capture more of the warmth radiating off his golden skin.

“Sometimes, but I tend not to dwell on the future. Then I’ll ignore the present. Ignore the time I have with you.” I answered in a soft voice, my throat still aching from the cold I was recovering from. Hoseok had spent each day caring for me, even skipping his dance classes just to ensure I rested well with enough medicine, food, and rest to bring me back to feeling 100%.

“I think about our future a lot.” He spoke, one hand moving to rest on top of my hands that still traced his. I shifted my head up on the pillow to stare into his eyes more, but his gaze never left the ceiling.

“Our future?” I felt a few butterflies in my stomach at the thought of it. I spent each moment in fear of Hoseok leaving my side, even though we had been dating a year and a half already. He was out of my league, way too good for me in every way. Hilarious, charming, incredibly attractive, talented, the list went on. All I had going for me was my ability to bake cookies, although some batches still came out burnt. Even then Hoseok would smile and munch away on the darkened circles, washing them down with milk and offering encouraging words to ensure I’d get it right next time.

“Yeah. Our future. . .” He licked his lips, chest rising and falling under his thin black tank top; collarbones exposed in the best way. “I want to be yours for a long time. I hope you feel the same.” He mumbled with a small blush tinting his skin. My face was surely the same as I moved to hide my head on his shoulder, giggling a bit.

“I love you Hobi. I’ll be yours till the day you get sick of me.”

“That will be never.”

“Then I guess I am forever yours.”

He grew silent, hands moving off mine to lift my head up slightly to meet his gaze. “Promise?”

I bit my lip, shyly nodding. “Promise.” His sweet gaze grew closer until his lips fanned over my own, breathing into me as I inhaled, the cycle moving as if we were in sync. He took his time, savoring each freckle on my skin, every curved eyelash fluttering in time with the beating of his chest. His mouth always tasted like candy, even if he never let the sugary sweets past his lips. Somehow he still tasted like the best treat you could receive on a summer’s day causing me to fall deeper into his spell. His lips ghost past my own to trail down my warm skin that rose with goosebumps, my own hands wrapping around his shirt that hung over his chest barely covering what remained underneath.

“I’ll never let you go.” He mumbled, nipping at my skin to cause the familiar breathless whimper I let escape each time he repeated the action. “Never.” He rasped while parting only to slip the loose tank over his head, throwing it across the room.

I woke up in a sweat, hand running through my messy hair as I turned my head on the pillow, grabbing my phone to check the time. 12:17 pm. Of course my mind had to replay the familiar scene in my head. That was simply months before everything went downhill, and I wanted nothing more than to relive that moment over and over; a moment in which everything was pristine and full of fresh young love. How did we take such a wrong turn? Instead of hitting a dead end, we flipped over the mountain and crashed in a never ending fall.

With a loud sigh I pushed my hair behind my ear and moved across my room to the attached bathroom, splashing some water on my face before moving to brush my teeth. My eyes shut, one hand leaning into the counter while the other just slowly brushed away. I was never a morning person, despite it being the afternoon; it was still technically my morning.

Spitting the excess into the sink, I rinsed my mouth and traveled out to my kitchen to start up my coffee machine. I ran my hands over my arms a few times, trying to smooth away the goosebumps that rose due to my bare feet padding across the cool tired floor. I added the water up to the fill line in the back of my machine, puncturing the small coffee container before pressing the button. Despite waiting a few minutes, nothing was happening

What the hell?

I was then interrupted by a loud technical sound erupting from inside indicating my beloved machine had bit the dust. Just my luck, right? My day off and all I wanted was to stay in and complete some research, but without coffee my day would dwindle down to doing nothing by lying around on my couch. I had to go out. I threw my oversized denim jacket on over the t-shirt I had worn to bed, changing into a pair of jeans and grabbing my old beat up sneakers as I made my way to the door.

No more than ten minutes later, I was in and out of the mainstream coffee shop, a hot latte placed in my left hand as I fumbled with my phone in the right. As much as I wanted to push all my worries away, the idea of Jimin storming out still lingered at the front of my mind. As time went on, I felt the guilt build up until it got to the point of being unable to function. I found my thumb moving over the familiar contact I had opened and closed a hundred times on the walk to the coffee shop alone. Before I could turn back, I pressed call and felt the anxiety tumbling up my throat with each passing ring. I didn’t think he’d answer, but on the last ring it finally picked up.

“What do you want?” His stern voice was clear, but I could hear it weaken a bit towards the end. He was trying to seem serious but I knew he was still hurt, or rather couldn’t keep up the mean boy act.

“Jimin.” I mumbled out, hearing his sharp intake of breath as I spoke his actual name.

He was silent, but I could hear him breathing softly indicating he didn’t hang up. This was my short chance to stumble out a few words.

“Jimin-ah, I’m so sorry. Please trust me that I didn’t mean what I said.” I spoke with a borderline monotone voice, but he knew I wasn’t one to express much emotion, not when it came to things like this. “I hope you can forgive me. I will do anything, I swear. I can’t bring you back to my team, but I know you’re better off there anyways. Just. . .” I paused biting my lip, not knowing what else to say. Before I could try to continue, he spoke up.

“Dinner.”

“Huh?” I stopped walking, eyebrows scrunching up.

“Take me to dinner. You owe me something better than that crappy lunch.” I could practically hear the smile in his voice, and it relieved me to know he was willing to move on from this. He could never stay mad for long.

“Shall I pick you up?” I asked with a small laugh.

“7. Don’t be late detective.” With that, he hung up to leave me a smiling mess at the thought of things finally working out.

Perhaps all this stress was worth something. This case was soon to be over; Jimin would be back on speaking terms, Hoseok was off the hook, everything was going to be alright.

It truly was.

My smile was unable to fall off my lips as I parked outside my apartment complex, throwing open the door to shimmy my jacket off my shoulders giddily. Something about Jimin made my heart race, my body tense up in the best way, he made my stomach flutter and it was something new to experience. Something I hadn’t felt since . . . since Hoseok. An entire year ago.

The dinner was simple, truly, even though he told me I was paying he refused to let me pay in the end. We both ordered a traditional meal at a moderately expensive restaurant, the soft music overhead contributing to the mood we seemed to set. Apologies were thrown back and forth between the both of us until we were left out of breath with nothing left to say.

He smiled wide at me in the end, and I knew in that moment he had taken my heart. For once, I wasn’t upset about something being taken hostage.

I took my time walking back to my place, opening the door and flipping on the switch only to be met with a refreshing smell. Don’t get me wrong, my apartment wasn’t full of any odor, but rather nothing at all. I wasn’t one to keep air fresheners around or collect candles, yet there was a distinct smell filling the small apartment.

Walking into my kitchen, I spotted a beautiful vase of assorted flowers all freshly cut and dipped into the water. Alongside was a note with delicate detailing, reading a simple message.

Thanks for everything.

J.H.

“Court is now in session, the honorable Judge Lee Sung Min is presiding.”

“In the matter of the murder case of Lee Boo Rin, Mr. Min, how do you plead?” The judges’ voice boomed across the open room as silence took over the attendees. Yoongi squirmed in his seat, eyes glossy and droopy. He was much thinner than he already was before, cheeks sunken into his pale tone that made him look like a walking skeleton.

“Guilty, your honor.” His deep voice was clear and sturdy, but he was anything but.

How did we get here? It was simple. The day after I strolled into the station with full blown confidence, slamming down each piece of evidence even if they were far-fetched. I had spent hours debating and struggling with numerous people just to show my side of things. Believe it or not, they believed me in the end. It had to do with the fact Hoseok was always at the station anyways when we were together. They knew him almost as well as I did; our sweet neighborhood flower boy. In fact it truly didn’t take any convincing at all. They wanted me to sell out Yoongi in this case, I just had to finally say the world.

Yoongi had been convinced to plead guilty seeing as all evidence was going against him rather he liked it or not. It would give him a shorter sentence perhaps, and he was too vulnerable to deny the offer of pleading guilty.

“Counsel, have you reached a settlement?”

“Yes, your honor. The people have agreed to time served with no bail”

“Mr. Min, do you know by pleading guilty you lose the right to a jury trial?”

“Yes, your honor.”

“Do you give up that right?”

“Yes, your honor.”

“Do you understand what giving up that right means?”

“Yes.”

“Did anyone force you into accepting this settlement?”

“No.” Yoongi was tense, a few tears spilling over his eyes but he was quick to pat them with the backs of his hands. He still managed to keep up the pitiful innocent act.

“Are you pleading guilty because you in fact murdered Miss Lee Boo Rin?”

“Yes.” He choked out a sob, bottom lip trembling as his girlfriend sat in the audience sobbing loudly.

“Min Yoongi, you are hereby sentenced to 30 years in prison.” The loud sound of his gavel sounded throughout the room as two officers grabbed Yoongi, escorting him out as he mouthed ‘I love You’ to his girlfriend one last time. Each word spoken after that moment seemed to draw a blank in my mind as I watched the scene unfold. For some odd reason it broke my heart even though I knew I did the right thing. His act was too good, too real; it made me feel as if he truly was innocent.

I stood up, watching as Hoseok stood briefly before I had, rushing out of the court room. I desperately ached to talk to him seeing as we didn’t speak outside of the station and briefly before the court case. I quickly followed after him, rushing out the front doors just as he had. I went to speak, but stopped as got into his vehicle and drove off in a rush. Frowning, I stood on the sidewalk in confusion.

What was his issue?

Shaking it out of my head for now, I wrapped my coat tighter around my frame as I walked down the sidewalk. I had walked here from the station as it wasn’t far and parking would have been hell. My head was racing but also came to a sense of relief. The case is finally over. But why do I feel as if I’m missing something? I arrived back at the station and walked in the small building to gather my things so I could head home.

I grabbed my keys and hat before leaving the room, heading to my superiors office to return the extra key he had lent me for the station. However, upon stepping in I saw a file placed on top of his laptop. The assistants around here always left files on top of closed laptops, who knows why, but it was where they put freshly faxed information. It seemed off for me to catch onto, but for some reason my mind told me to reach out and grab it.

Looking around to make sure I was alone, I grabbed the vanilla folder and peeked inside with curious eyes.

DNA Results

I bit my lip, flipping over the pages as my eyes slowly widened. It was the results of the DNA found inside the woman’s body; the fact that she encountered sexual intercourse soon before her death. Seeing as she did work the corners and only had to clients, and Namjoon was out of the area, this would give the identity away! I was told that the samples were lost, meaning we had to follow the other leads that led to Yoongi, but yet here was all the evidence we needed! Not lost at all, but freshly faxed over from the lab!

Eagerly, I flipped the page and skimmed through to find the matching name, but as soon as I did my heart skipped a beat before gradually increasing.

Jung Hoseok.

The folder dropped out of my hands, body stepping backwards as I inhaled a deep gasp. No . . . no! This had to be incorrect! He . . . Hoseok. Hoseok is innocent. This had to be a mix up somehow! It had to be.

I quickly rushed out of the office and through the front doors, moving quickly down the sidewalk I had just come from. I was running back towards the court in hopes to contact the rest of the officials. This had to be looked into, I couldn’t let the information go or else I’d clearly lose my job, right?

However I stopped in my tracks when I saw a familiar figure stepping out of his vehicle, and I was still a few blocks away from the court house. Hoseok was stepping out of his car, slamming it shut before pressing the button to lock up the doors. He shoved his hands into his pockets, walking down the opposite street from my intended destination.

I slowly walked behind as he made his way down the street, seeming to be heading towards a familiar road I’d walked before. My heart began to race with suspicions flying left and right. I still managed to throw those thoughts away in hopes he’d keep walking to the convenience store, to the library a few blocks over, to anywhere other than where I hoped he’d end up. Yet he did the opposite.

I watched as Hoseok came to stop at the corner, grabbing onto the arm of Rose and leaning in to whisper something in her ear. The scratchy giggles of her smoker voice filled the empty sidewalk as I peered from around the corner of the brick building. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a slip of paper as she then handed him over a wad of cash. My chapped lips fell apart in shock as I could hear my heart in my head now. Throbbing each split second. I quickly threw myself into the alleyway beside me as he turned around to make sure no witnesses watched the encounter before his long legs strolled off and away from the corner to head back to his vehicle.

My panicked state had me speed walking back to my apartment, leaving my vehicle parked along the curbside as my legs felt as if they moved quicker although it took much longer than it would have been by car, but my mind was not in the right place .I was jogging by the time I got outside the apartment complex, throwing the main door open.

Suddenly it all made sense. The late nights I never came home, he was always roaming around. Stopping by the office to visit me was just an excuse to snoop around. He gained the trust of the department all while gaining access to the things he needed most. He looked into the minds of police officers, examiners, blood splatter analysists, every damn person he ever needed to know about he gained the attention of and used it to his own benefit.

His act was a good one, which I had to admit with no hesitation. I truly thought I had him figured out for an innocent lover who enjoyed making corny jokes, too many sweets, and had a weak spot for old movies. But as I thought over it, everything was connecting like a puzzle I left undone for all these years.

I suddenly felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up in uneasiness. I let a murderer go. The worst possible thing I could ever do and I’ve done it. Yoongi is completely innocent and yet I somehow managed to place every piece of evidence on him despite knowing deep down everything led to Hoseok.

Shit, shit, shit.

I need to fix this all right now. Who knows what Hoseok will be up to now? He is now aware he can get away with anything! He has the upmost trust in everyone at this point; they’re practically feeding from the palm of his hand. Yoongi is rotting behind bars for something he never even thought of doing and I was all to blame. For once in my life I was seeing Jimin’s side of things, and yet I shipped him off just like I swatted away all the leads that led right to Hoseok.

I ran a hand over my face, rubbing at my eyes with an audible sigh as I could practically feel the migraine building up. I brushed my hair over my shoulders, slipping the oversized knit beanie on my head as I fumbled with the door to my apartment complex. I needed to gather the evidence and bring it to the station as soon as possible. My job is surely on the line here and I know this may as well be the last case I ever wrap up, but as long as the right man is behind bars that is all that matters. It’s my job to keep everyone safe and at this rate I’m putting more lives on the line.

I fumbled with the metal key, shoving it into the old rusty lock before twisting it open with a quiet squeak of the hinges. I shut and locked the frame behind me, resting my head on the door for a quick second with scrunched shut eyes.

You can do this. Grab the papers, walk into that office, and lay it on them. You’ll be fired on the spot guaranteed but it’s worth it. C’mon, C’mon.

I tried to reassure my thoughts as much as possible, but it didn’t stop the slight shake in my breathing to be evident. I pushed my body away from the door, not bothering to kick off my shoes as I made my way into my small bedroom. Switching the light on, I walked over to my dresser and pulled out the top drawer that held the numerous papers; however, upon opening it I was met with nothing. My eyebrows furrowed as I picked up the clothing beside the spot, throwing it to the side as I rummaged around in hopes to find the lost papers.

“What the fuck?” I hissed out to myself, slamming the drawer shut as I moved to my bedside table, hoping I had placed them in there by mistake. I opened up the compartments, moving around old papers and broken pens but was met with disappointment once again.

I let out a loud huff, walking out of my room and glancing around my apartment. Where could I have placed the papers? I swear I left them in my room. I tugged my sweater further up my arms as I moved towards my kitchen, hoping to grab a glass of water and cool off for a moment, but when flipping on the light I stopped in my tracks.

All the files were placed onto my kitchen island.

I grew shaky as goosebumps filled my skin, knowing damn well what kind of situation I was now facing. I had placed those papers in my drawer and I knew that for a fact. This wasn’t just my groggy state playing mind tricks once more; Hoseok was here.

Shifting forwards, I snatched the folder in my hand, quickly turning around to make an escape towards my front door but I was pulled back by an arm snatching around my waist tightly, bringing me flush against a rough chest. A hand was placed over my mouth as his face curled into my neck, nose pressing against my skin lightly as he inhaled deeply.

“Ah, my little detective; have you finally figured it out?” He mumbled sweetly. His words were sickening despite holding such an innocent tone. I struggled within his grasp while using all the tricks I knew worked on everyone, but not him. He was too strong and he knew all my moves. Spending two years by my side also meant seeing my brutal practice and methods; he had me figured out like a playing card.

“Let me go!” I screamed from beneath his hand, but due to that fact it came out more muffled. His hot breath chuckles against me as the goosebumps rose more. The hand on my mouth moved towards my neck, but as I went to scream nothing came out due to the grip now straining my vocal chords. The only sound to escape was a scratchy gasp.

Seeing as I now couldn’t make a sound, he took the advantage so take his hand off my waist and spin my head to look up at him. And at that moment I saw the life leave his beautiful eyes, even if he wasn’t dead. This was no longer my Hoseok, but the side I had never managed to see directly.

“My beautiful girl. Always so sweet to me.” He inhaled and sighed out happily, his eyes shutting briefly as he did do. It was such a naturally happy movement that only seemed sinister in this time. My hands gnawed at his own around my throat, but he only tightened causing me to see specks of white.

��I’m surprised it took you this long to piece everything together. I left you clues along the way hoping you’d follow my little game, but what a disappointment this has been.” He sighed and shoved me down into a kitchen chair, releasing his grip and placing both arms on either side of me so I was unable to speak. I inhaled deeply and coughed over and over as oxygen filled back into my lungs.

“One word and I won’t hesitate to slit your throat.” He warned in a growl, showing me the knife he had. It was no use screaming anyways; who would hear me? Instead I listened to what this sick man had to say to me.

“Poor Yoongi. Ripped apart from his girlfriend and shoved behind bars. Beaten senseless and tortured to the point of sobbing each night in his cell.” He smiled, “Charming really to see him unravel.”

“You’re a sick bastard.” I spat out, rewarding me a loud slap across the face. My head twisted and my cheek stung like hell as I spit out a little blood.

“Don’t worry sweetheart, he’ll get used to it. He won’t be coming out anytime soon anyways. These files will never make it to the authorities.” He spoke, moving to drag the knife up and down my arm lightly.

“It’s such a shame to hear about your poor partner Jimin.” My eyes snapped towards him and widened in shock. Jimin was sent to work on a new case; I knew that for a fact. I’d sent him off myself despite his protests to stay with me. I was simply upset he wasn’t believing me for backing up Hoseok.

“What the hell did you do to him?” I breathed out in a panicky tone. His lips curled up much like they did in the interrogation room.

“Where do I start?” he chuckled, removing the knife from my skin. “First objective was breaking his fingers, one each half hour. Then I moved to slicing his precious cheeks, how adorable they were. He begged me to stop, god he was such a crier. I expected that though.” He snickered as tears fell from my eyes. “He threw every swear word in my face and spit at me. It only earned him extra punches. Your precious partner isn’t as pretty with a swollen eye.”

“S-stop.” I croaked out, imagining Jimin being tortured breaking my heart apart.

“Don’t worry; he’s not in any more pain.” He licked his lips, “I slit his throat as well.”

I let out a sob, eyes shutting tightly as my emotions tumbled out. “He begged me to let you go unharmed as long as I took his own life, who was I to disobey his offer? His life in place of torturing you? I couldn’t pass that up. I was going to let him go; truly I was after having a little fun.”

“You’re a monster.”

“I’ve heard worse.” He scoffed, grabbing the knife back up in his hands. “Anyways, you should thank your precious partner. Thanks to him being oh so brave, I won’t torture you.” He smiled, twirling the weapon under the light. “I’ll just get straight to it.” He spoke.

Wait, what?

His menacing laugh filled my ears as I gulped harshly. “He only said not to torture you, right? Never said anything about getting straight to the killing. He really should have been more careful with his words.”

The tears flowed so fast from my eyes. I had killed Jimin. It was entirely my fault. If I had stopped playing the favorite card and actually did my job, I could have seen the clues placed in front of me. I didn’t have much time to overthink my actions when his hand roughly gripped my jaw, pulling my face towards his. Before I could react, he smashed his lips against my own. Tongue tracing my bottom lip and forcing entry into my mouth. My salty tears mixed with his minty taste as I tried to push away but he only forced himself on me more before slipping away with a loud smack.

“Mm, goodbye kisses are always the sweetest.” He cooed. “Thank you for everything.” He smiled sweetly before swinging the knife up and deeply dragging it across my neck. I choked, blood bubbling past my lips and sputtering to the ground as my body fell down, air unable to pass through me any longer. I choked on my own blood; chest heaving in hopes to find a new way to survive but was met with nothing but absolute pain and lack of air. His shoes were the last thing I saw before my heart came to a slow finish.

He smiled, letting her body fall limp to the floor before grabbing a sheet from his pocket. It evenly had prints displayed across ready to be transferred. Picking up his knife, he cleansed and wiped down the handle before pressing the sheet roughly against it, letting it drop back to her side. Wiping his hands together, he let out a content sigh and stepped away from her lifeless figure.

“Sorry Kim Taehyung.” He mumbled referencing the new victim he had just placed the murders fault upon. If only he had remembered to wipe his prints last time before adding Yoongis he could have avoided this whole mess.

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