Cry Me A River | The Pawns

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cry me a river | the pawns

— summary: when pawns are used well, they are the soul of the chess. you might as well take advantage of what you’re given

— pairing: bts x reader

— genre: angst, mafia!au

— word count: 6.4k

— warnings: none

— PART 22 / previous post / masterpost

“Why did she call you buttercup?”

“Buttercups reminded her of me,” you answer Yoongi as take your steps into Bangtan’s manor for the first time in weeks. “Bright and yellow, pretty little thing.” You pause. “And a weed in her path.”

“She was never on your list?”

“Nari had always been insignificant,” you say with arms crossing over your chest, wanting to leave it at that. 

But Yoongi isn’t satisfied with the short answer. “You never told me how the two of you got involved.”

“What can I say,” you shrug, “the Vipers were our ally so inevitably, we met. I caught her attention with my face and she grew intrigued and envious.” He told you his history so you might as well entertain him with yours. Just a little though. Only a little. “I’m sure you know it better than I, your little sister—”

“She’s not my sister.” He’s quick to cut you off, stern and firm. Yoongi isn’t someone who cares too much about the things that leave people’s lips. He lets them yap off as much as they’d like, so when he does ever speak up on things, you know just how serious he is.

So you nod, sending him a tight smile. “Right, right. That little celery,” you correct yourself, “she can get a bit crazy when she doesn’t get something she likes, or when the attention is shifted away from her.”

“She’s never had her attention shifted away in the times I lived in that manor,” Yoongi says and you give him a blank look.

Small little Yoongi, probably just the same as you who never received attention and love and was just seen as nothing more than an heir who was meant to fulfill his role. On the other hand, you never saw your father loving another, or even having the ability to love at all. There’s a bit of comfort knowing your father was incapable of feeling, so he had no one to show it to and you had no one to grow envious of, even though it did take you a while to get smart about understanding him. Yoongi on the other hand had to grow up seeing his father show his affection to someone else. 

He got out quicker than you though, and fled the scene before things could go downhill.

You came to a realization too late. It was your body that had to force you to “wake up.”

“So imagine what it was like when that moment finally came to her.” Up the stairs and to the right. It’s a bit funny you’re getting used to navigating through this manor like it’s your own. Once upon a time, it was yours. “The spotlight switching from her to me gave her quite the scare.”

Yoongi opens the door to Namjoon’s office and you walk in casually.

“I met her before I met you,” you say and he gives a moment of pause before following you right in when you take your designated seat, the same seat you’ve always taken whenever you walk into this room.

Namjoon’s already sitting across from you, taking a sip of coffee from his cup with Seokjin stood to his side as his second in command. Yoongi takes his position on his leader’s other side while Mingyu stays to your right.

“Do you know Alexander Larsen?” You start without hesitation, leaning back into your seat and trying to make yourself comfortable.

In truth, you will never get comfortable.

“Alexander Larsen?” Seokjin raises a brow at your question. “You don’t mean from the Norwegian mafia, do you? You’re not talking about the Kingsmen, are you?”

“So you do know of him.” You cross a leg over the other, feeling satisfied.

“You want to go after an old man?”

“It’s not the grandpa I want to go after, it’s his son.”

“Karl Larsen?” He shares a brief glance with Namjoon, expression marked with hesitation. “That’s a bit…”

You ignore his trailing comment to continue your point toward Namjoon. “I’d like to get close to gramps and I know you have connections to do so.”

“He’s a don, Y/N. A Godfather. A Norwegian Godfather,” he stresses. “You don’t know who you’re messing with.” Right from your proposal, he’s already denying his offer to help but you’re not about to back down. 

“You told me I could use you as my pawn,” you remind him of the contract the two of you made a few weeks ago. “You aren’t supposed to ask me questions and force me back on my plans just because a certain man I want to go after happens to have a Godfather as his father. If I get close to Alexander, my plot against his son would be much easier.”

“It isn’t easy getting close to Alexander,” you hear a different voice coming in through the door but you don’t have to look to know that it’s Hoseok. “Going after a Godfather is the equivalent of signing off your death certificate.”

“Not to mention Alexander is linked to the Italian mafia and you know how dangerous they are.” You roll your eyes when Jimin follows along.

It feels like being scolded all over again.

“Why’re you leaving the scope of Korea?” Taehyung asks.

“Are you deliberately trying to get yourself killed?”

“I said no questions,” you point directly at Jungkook who in turn ignores it by looking away, and return to the boss who sits at the center of them all. “If you’re scared, you can just say that.”

Namjoon frowns at your words, shaking his head subtly. “I can get anyone for you, Y/N, but I don’t want you messing around with foreign mafiosos.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“You’re trying to walk into a battlefield.”

“The whole world has been a battlefield, Namjoon, and just because this particular boss is tougher than other soldiers out there doesn’t mean it’s enough to have me back down. I’m not backing down. I want Karl Larsen dead.”

“It’s dangerous territory.” Still, he denies you the help.

You let out a frustrated grunt. “That’s what you said the last time I proposed leaving Korea.”

“Yeah, and remind me what happened last time?”

Hwang Leehyun.

A living nightmare.

You cross your arms across your chest when he hits you with that, their eyes piercing without any hints of backing down and you suddenly have this urge to punch someone in the face. It feels like being in the eyes of your father all over again, being told you cannot do this or that, that you must do that and this. Like a child who does not, who can not, make her own decisions without the permission from her parents.

“Why do you even care whether I make it out okay or not?” So you snap with a click of your tongue, anger fueling. “This is my mission and my plot against the person I want dead.” You turn to Hoseok. “I’ve already told you I don’t care what happens to me down this path I’m walking on. If life decides it’s done with me, then so be it.”

If I die, I die, you told him once and Hoseok, frustrated in his own sense, turns to your right hand man instead of facing you.

“Aren’t you going to stop her?”

When all eyes fall on him, Mingyu has to take a moment to spare you a glance. You, who shoots a glare at Hoseok for even thinking of looking to him rather than addressing you. And knowing just how you feel, your commander answers in a calm tone.

“Whatever the boss wants, I provide and clear the path to let her get through. It is not my duty to stop her, therefore I hold no protest.”

Hm. Good answer.

“Just what are you feeding your Reapers?” When Hoseok turns back to you, you send him a cheeky grin.

“Loyalty. They’ll always take my side no matter what wrongs I’ve committed.” You look at the rest of them. “You should know about that.” And a bit of awkwardness they clearly don’t enjoy too well walks in, but you decide to ignore the effect those words had on them. “Mingyu knows his place and he knows what his title entails. It’s not his job to stop me. He’s here to clear the path for me and back me up, all the while doing what he can to get me back on my feet if things start going downhill and provide protection.” You give a little pause before adding. “You should learn from him.”

“The last time we let you do what you wanted, you ended up hurt.”

You frown at Seokjin when he says that, eyes avoiding his because you know just what he’s trying to imply. That moment of weakness you had turning to him. Why did you make that mistake?

You were just desperate to find a safe haven after what Leehyun did.

“The only thing with Karl is that he’ll get out my angry side, that’s all,” you say, resting back into the seat you’re in. “The situation won’t be the same. He wasn’t a creep, just some asshole psychopath who should have minded his own business.”

You and your stubborn streak. Namjoon knows you don’t have it in you to let your plans fall to a pause just because someone declines the help you’re seeking for. So he lets out a sigh, fingers pressing into his temples. “Like Hoseok said, getting a Godfather involved in your plans is the equivalent of choosing death.”

It doesn’t matter what sort of thing Karl has done to you to earn your anger. He’s still a son of a powerful man.

“I know,” still you say with acknowledgment, unwilling to back down. “But there will always be risks when it comes to going after people, and in this case, I’m walking a fine line between life and death, but as long as I can prove my worth and show Alexander that I’m a better pawn than his son, I have a higher chance returning here safe and sound. And besides,” you intertwine your fingers into one another and have your hands sit on your lap, “when it comes down to it, you’re all great at getting out of a sticky situation. If worse comes to worst, I’m sure I can rely on my pawn’s protection. You’re not trying to go back on your words again, now are you, Kim Namjoon?”

A promise is a promise.

A vow is a vow.

The Reapers have learned to master it and have proven again and again that their pledge to you is something that is unshakable. 

Namjoon asked you to collapse into him. They vowed to never let you fall.

And yet here you are now, a shattered mess of glass.

It looks like your choice of words gets to him because Namjoon’s shifting in his seat, uncomfortable, but he has no reason to say no to you now, not after you’ve brought the contract he wrote back into his face. And the past that left you scarred.

“.....I know someone who might be able to get you in contact with Alexander,” he finally says, “but it will be up to you to figure out how to get him on your side.”

The corner of your lips curls upward. “That’s all I need.”

And before the conversation can move on, Mingyu bends down to your side, whispering something into your ear. “They need you at The Academy.”

You give him a nod and uncross your legs to begin standing again. “Let’s pick up this conversation another time, yeah? You should prepare for my absence for at least a month or more. It won’t be easy getting close to a Godfather, after all.”

And with that, you walk off with Mingyu tailing along, leaving the seven of them still unsure about all of this.

.

.

.

“Sunoo refuses to sleep, my lady. I used to wake up to him trashing in his sleep and having to force him to wake up and ask him what was wrong but he never tells me anything. Now, when I wake up in the middle of the night, I just see Sunoo on his bed, wide awake. The teachers and I have tried to help but…nothing’s helping him.” 

Jungho stands with his head lowered as he fiddles around with his fingers, those little shoulders of his trembling slightly, and when you look at the headmaster for confirmation, she simply nods.

“So you asked the headmaster to call for me, yes?” The little boy nods at your question. “And why is that, Jungho? Why do you believe I can be of help?”

“I-I don’t know, my lady,” he answers truthfully, “but…Sunoo is my best friend and…and I want to help him get better so I thought…I thought that you would have a higher chance at helping than I.”

“You believe that I, someone who doesn’t know him quite as nearly as you do, who has spent years growing up with him, can be of better assistance?”

Jungho nods again. “Because..”

“Because?”

“When he did sleep…Sunoo used to call for your name.”

A droplet falls onto the floor where his feet stands, then another is quick to follow along, but Jungho keeps his head buried against his chest so that all you can see is the back of his hair. So you give Mingyu a look and he nods in return, turning to the child with a hand on his shoulder to lead him away while you head for the dorm the two of them have been assigned to.

Sunoo sits with a blank stare when you enter the room and shut the door behind you. Under the little boy’s eyes are dark bags that shouldn’t be there. He looks worse than the last time you saw him, a little daintier, not quite as skinny as he used to be when he worked under Ying but he might as well be getting back to that stage.

To that little child who was all skin and bones, his clothes too baggy for him when he’d look up at you determined and unwilling to give up hope.

He’s grown since then, putting on some meat, cheeks less hollowed, and a little more life in his physique, but that little spark of hope he had in him is dim. He hasn’t even realized you’ve walked in and Sunoo is someone who’s been taught to stay on high alert due to the fear instilled in him.

You’ve been trying to heal these children but just what are you doing if he’s still like this?

“Sunoo.”

When you call his name, he looks up with a slow reaction, though his eyes widen at the sight of you as expected. “My lady?” His voice is small and when he goes to shuffle from his bed to reach the floor, his legs give in underneath him when he tries to get to you.

You grab ahold of him before he can hurt his knees, picking him up effortlessly and setting him back onto the bed. He sits there with wide eyes searching for something, little fingers gripping onto the sleeve of your shirt a little too tight it turns white.

There is fear in his eyes, you realize. 

The fear you never got to see when he hid them in that room the two of you were in because he wanted to be brave, because he wanted to uphold the promise he gave unto you.

A child shouldn’t have gone through that.

“When was the last time you’d eaten?” You ask him, knowing that asking him if he’s eaten at all is dumb because it’s clear he hasn’t eaten in a while. You take the hands that balled onto you, placing them onto one another in his lap but knowing not to let it go. It probably gives him comfort knowing he can physically touch you.

“I…” His voice shakes so he’s quick to shut himself up with his teeth biting onto his lower lip. It quivers so he lowers his head and you give him the privacy by standing from the floor to sit beside him on the bed instead.

He keeps himself as silent as he can, and you watch the way he struggles, the way those little shoulders tremble in the way Jungho had and the way you remember the rest of them did when you rescued them that night. 

Hiding. Hiding.

All for you.

You feel some sort of hatred boiling within you because you know that all this hiding is for you and you hate yourself for doing this to them.

“Do you know something, Sunoo?” You let one hand remain holding his while the other reaches behind to rub along his back. “There is nothing in this world that will make me hate you for crying.”

He remains quiet but there’s a little jostle in his body when you say that. As if he’s surprised, as if he can’t believe you’d just said that.

“Do you believe crying is a sign of weakness?” You ask him and he gives you a small, honest nod. “Why do you believe that, Sunoo?”

“Because you hate it.”

Of course the reason comes back down to you. You’ve instilled something in them your father instilled in you. That crying is weak, that loving is dumb, that emotions must never be revealed to another because no one will care for you if you fail at these three tasks.

You’re becoming your father.

You want to punch the wall, kick something, anything, shoot a bullet into someone’s head, bring out a knife, and stab it into something. Anything.

But you know not to, not before a child, so rather than wanting to take out your anger onto something, you let yourself seek peace in the child.

You cup Sunoo’s face and force him to turn your way so that he cannot hide, so that you can allow yourself to see the tears that splash onto those eyes of his, and when they fall out from the corners of his eyes and you see the way he watches with surprise and redness in his pupils and on his cheeks and nose and lips, you press your forehead against his, forcing him to stop running away.

“There is nothing in this world that will make me hate you for crying,” you repeat your words to him once again because it’s hard. It’s hard trying to find any other words to comfort him because you’re bad at it, because you don’t know how to do it without giving a part of yourself to him. “You are seven, Sunoo. You are supposed to cry when something hurts you.”

“...” You see the way his lips quiver rapidly before he allows more tears to form along his waterline and inevitably fall.

“Do not bite your lips, you will hurt yourself.” He tries to remain silent but you refuse to let him, swiping a finger to let him loosen up, and with your permission, Sunoo cries as a child should.

He voices his frustrations, lets out the screams he’s been holding in, and cries as loud as he can while you hold him in your arms, covering his head into your chest so that he can still feel your presence and know that you aren’t going anywhere. That you’re accepting him. That he doesn’t need to hide from you.

Have you ever cried like this?

So loud and broken?

You did once. So many times. So many years ago.

When you were scared and frightened. When you had Mister Butler there to hold onto you when you needed to let the tears out.

“Do not bite your lips, you will bleed.”

He was the one who taught you that it was okay to let it all out when you cried, that it was okay to be loud, that you didn’t have to fear anyone hearing you.

It feels like a distant dream more than anything, however, because ever since the first few days of being sent to the White Room after Mister Butler died, you had let the fear return to haunt you once again. The fear of being loud. Succumbing to the silence.

Fearing the noise.

“You were gone, my lady.” Sunoo’s voice allows you to return to reality. “You were..you were dead, my lady.”

“...Was I?”

“I dreamt it,” his voice croaks. “She killed you.” So those were the nightmares that feared him into refusing to sleep when he needed it. He dreamt of your death, of him being unable to get you out of that situation.

You admit if it weren’t for Yoongi, Nari would have most definitely snapped and actually ended you right then and there. Yoongi saved your life and lost an eye as a result.

“I’m right here, Sunoo. I’m still alive.” You make sure he knows when you squeeze over his body a little tighter.

Sunoo leans in closer, nuzzling into your embrace.

“I-I know but…but the sun will set again and you’ll leave and…and what if that gentleman hadn’t been there with us? You would have…you could have…”

A sun setting.

The darkness.

The dreaded darkness.

You know just how Sunoo feels because you still fear the darkness. You still hate it when the sun sets because it means absolute darkness until the sun decides to rise again hours later. Hours that feel like days and weeks and months and years. Hours that seem to tick like the seconds are running a year too late. Hours that have you staring straight at the ticking clock, begging it to go faster and faster but it never seems to go as you ask.

That’s why all the clocks in the manor have been either destroyed or thrown away.

Living with your father still alive, you were unable to do things your way but ever since his death, you’ve reorganized lots and lots of things to accommodate your wants and needs.

The clocks are all gone.

“Do you want to come to Norway with me?”

Sunoo looks up suddenly at the suggestion, his brows furrowed with disbelief and for a second you want to take it back because you know it’s a bad idea. You’re there to kill someone after all, to exact your revenge, and having Sunoo in that environment won’t be good.

But this child needs you and he needs the light.

“Northern Norway is a country where the sun does not set during summertime, so you do not have to fear for the darkness.” Once upon a time, you spoke of a wish to visit the Land of the Midnight Sun. Norway. It’s funny the way things are piecing together, funny how no matter how much you want to run away from your past, it always seems to catch up to you. “Jungho will come as well, so you do not have to be alone and so he does not have to sleep here by himself.”

“And the others?” He always thinks of the others. Sunoo is a big brother to all the kids and he keeps strong for them so you know he must be worrying about them feeling left out but this is a foreign country you’re visiting to exact revenge. The less kids, the better.

“They will have to stay. Norway will be dangerous, Sunoo,” you tell him half the truth, not wanting to be too transparent but knowing that letting him believe this will be nothing but a vacation and letting him stay naive will not be good for him.

Kids have to know. The more aware they are, the better prepared they will be.

“But maybe in the future, I can allow for field trips in The Academy.”

“Really?” He sounds a bit brighter at the thought.

“Only if I can get stronger,” you tell him. “Though that may or may not happen and if it does, it will be in the far future.”

“Why do you say that, my lady?”

You wipe the tears from his face when he appears to be calming down. “Because there are still a lot of people who underestimate me or see me as a threat and wish to do something about it.”

“Like that lady?”

“Like that lady.” You take the tissue box from his nightstand to hand it to him and watch as he goes on to blow his nose. “So until people learn not to mess around with me, until my name alone brings fear to them, you’ll have to wait to be allowed to do whatever you want.”

“..Whatever I want?”

“Whatever you want.” You press a hand to his head, smoothing his hair down. “You won’t have to confine yourself in this school anymore. All of you will be allowed to go anywhere you want, whenever you want. No one will be able to mess with you and you won’t have to fear for your safety. Though that comes with learning how to properly defend yourselves. You will do that for me, won’t you?”

Sunoo is quick to nod happily. “I’ll learn to protect myself and I’ll learn to protect my brothers and sisters. And you too, my lady.”

“That’s right. So until then, be a little more patient, alright?”

.

.

.

“You…please tell me you’re joking. You’re bringing children to Norway?” It’s comical the way Seokjin runs his hand down his face as he tries to fathom what you’ve just told him. He looks more stressed than he’s ever been before. “Namjoon’s not going to agree to that.”

“Why does Namjoon’s opinion matter?”

“You never mentioned bringing children to the mission was going to be part of the plan!”

“They aren’t. I’ll just need an extremely safe house where it’ll be hard for anyone to locate to ensure their safety.”

He lets out a long suffering sigh and you want to laugh a little because despite the fact that Seokjin appears to always look calm and collected, he tends to lose his cool easily. He doesn’t get upset but he stresses a good amount. “Why’re you bringing them along in the place?” He asks and you look away.

“I’m not obligated to tell you.”

He grows more agitated. “Don’t tell me you’re going to exploit them into helping you with getting close to Alexander?”

“You think I’m that shallow?” You give him a deadpan expression. “They’re not in any part of the plan. Just think of it as them leaving for a field trip.”

He rests a hand on his temples, takes a moment to breathe as he takes a small lap around a small invisible circle before speaking again. Level headed. “Field trip. Right. As if you aren’t going out there signing your life away to Alexander Larsen!”

Not so level-headed.

He’s losing his cool and you grin at how he tries so hard to keep calm but eventually gives in. “If you’re that worried, why don’t you tag along? Come before the rest of you come when it’s time to take action.”

“I can’t,” Seokjin grunts as he runs a hand through his hair. “Hoseok and Jungkook are already assigned to go with you and I have to stay by Namjoon’s side. He’s a wreck without me.”

“Of course he is.”

He glares your way before continuing. “He’s not going to allow you to take the kids.”

“Come on, Kim Seokjin. You’re the Kim Seokjin, Kim Namjoon’s right hand man, the only one who can get through to him when his stubborn ass refuses to let anyone talk him down from his decisions.” You give him a small poke on his arm, teasing a bit, and Seokjin takes note of the way you feel a little comfortable touching him even in the slightest bit. “I’m sure you can cool him down once he receives news that I’m bringing Sunoo and Jungho along.”

“Cool him down?” Not even convince him to agree but to cool him down. Meaning you aren’t backing from your decision, and Seokjin close his eyes as he takes in another deep breath, praying to God to allow him to keep his patience because he knows he’s stuck dealing with two stubborn people where one does whatever she wants and the other is easy to rile up when the right buttons are pushed.

And you know just the right buttons to push.

“Good luck buddy, I’ll see you when I see you.” With that, you salute him a goodbye and walk off with a grin plastered on your face.

.

.

.

“Y/N?”

The man Namjoon sets you up to meet in Norway is tall in the figure, with blonde hair combed neatly back, and a black suit to match with piercing green eyes that you’re sure to have probably earned many women in his life to swoon.

He’s quite a looker; handsome and tall and carries an aura of authority.

“Asher Larsen.” You say his name in perfect English and extend a hand out to shake it just briefly.

He takes a seat across from you, brows a bit furrowed, jaws set tight. “I can get you in to meet my grandfather but whatever it is you wish to do is none of my business. That will be the farthest I will do for you.”

“Of course. That’s all I need.”

Asher Larsen, grandson of Alexander Larsen, Karl’s nephew, and an intelligent man amongst the Kingsmen. You aren’t sure what Namjoon’s told him about you or the mission in general but he seems like the type who’ll only care about something that he’s actually interested in. And clearly, whatever you’re doing here, he has no intention of getting involved. He’s probably witnessed a few similar scenes before so he can probably guess what it is you’re after, which makes your job a lot easier.

In London, Taehyung was assigned to stay with you during the majority of your plot. Norway, as Seokjin said, Hoseok and Jungkook are here by your side, but unlike London, you won’t have someone here on your side to give you much aid in the way you had Hyunjin.

Asher is only here to be a bridge. Nothing more, nothing less.

He takes you to a private party that night where you walk in by his side as his guest, and for some odd reason, things already begin to spiral as a commotion is heard not long after your arrival.

“Do you often have your security breached like this?” You turn to Asher who gives you a quizzical expression.

“You mean this wasn’t you?”

“To try and grab your grandfather’s attention?” You laugh a little. “That’s a bit extreme, don’t you think? If it was me behind this, it’d only want him to make an enemy out of me, and that’s not what I’m after.”

No one’s by your side tonight, it’s a private party after all, and though you’re sure your Reapers, along with Hoseok and Jungkook, aren’t too far away for you to leave and make an escape before something goes wrong, somehow you don’t feel the need to run away even when the chandelier from the ceiling falls and shatters glass all over the floor.

“How interesting,” is what you utter when the bright lights of the party fall dim and all that’s left is the light of the dawn sky from above the small, circular glass ceiling.

“Do you care one bit about your safety?” Asher questions you when he sees every other guest making an escape while you remain standing where you’ve been the whole time. He doesn’t look like he’s in a state of panic, and you guess he’s probably used to these things. Who wouldn’t be when you’re born into this business?

“Of course I do, but—”

“You should leave before something goes wrong.” He takes your wrist and pushes you towards the emergency exit, but you just can’t seem to run.

“Asher.” You look around, eyes sharp and quick. “Where’s your grandfather?”

Asher looks exasperated with you. “When things like this happen, my grandfather’s the first to escape. Now—”

“Something’s odd.”

“What’s odd?”

“The party started an hour before we arrived, right? So why was it that the second we walked in, they decided to stop it then? Why when you arrived?” You look towards the entrance door that’s now closed and blocked off, the chandelier that fell at the center of the grand room, just a few feet away from where the two of you were standing.

Luckily no one seems to be on the verge of death and there are people helping some guests leave from a side door, but besides that, there doesn’t seem to be any present physical threat in this room. One might believe they’re not here because Alexander isn’t here but still, you feel an odd sense of something.

You turn back to Asher just as he’s trying to calculate what you just said. “Tell me, Asher, are you someone your grandfather favors?”

“My grandfather doesn’t have favorites.”

“But you are intelligent and a great asset to the Kingsmen.” Just as you said that, you catch sight of a man who had been pretending to help an injured man point a gun towards Asher, who has his back turned to him, and in seconds, you’re rushing to Asher, take hold of the gun he held on the back of his belt, and pierce a bullet straight into the man’s forehead.

Asher turns around, stunned, and you take another man out on the second story of this room.

“You don’t have an extra gun or something, do you? Because we were told not to bring guns to this party.” You flash him an awkward grin but the man only shakes his head.

Well. At least you’re prepared.

Throwing him back his gun, to which he easily catches to eliminate more men, you take your two hairpins that had been holding your hair up this whole time, and use it as your weapon, stabbing along the masked men who have been bold enough to operate on this mission tonight.

Asher and you are an unstoppable force, it’s almost a bit thrilling having the chance to get back into action and overpowering the enemies as if they were simple ants pestering and getting in your way. You forgot how fun this can be after being held up in bed for almost two months, unable to move properly.

Something catches your attention when a lady dressed in a black and white suit stumbles onto her feet with something in her hand, a puppy, and just behind her a long pillar lies, on the verge of tipping over.

No longer watching Asher’s back, you rush over to the scene to pick the running puppy into your arm and grab the woman with your other hand, successfully rescuing them just as the huge cement falls and crashes onto the floor, alerting everyone’s attention.

You simply stare at the dog in your arm. “Behave, will you? Don’t run into danger, that pretty lady was only trying to help.”

It barks and you feel guns pointed straight at you. 

The room falls silent, nothing is heard, and you can’t put a finger on why it is that you’re now the target and they’re ignoring Asher.

Is it the puppy? Is the puppy’s life far more valuable than Asher’s?

“Y/N!” You hear Asher’s call and keeping a firm grip on the puppy, rush to dodge the bullets that fly your way with Asher’s help in shooting down a few of them.

Your body twists and turns, flipping and jumping, doing all it can so that the bullets can only breeze past your skin and not pierce through it, all the while you use your hairpin to stab nearby opponents down with a dog in your hand.

The last of them die against the piercing of your hairpin against their neck, and while you feel eyes on you from the people who were hidden away to hide from the fight, you retrieve the two silver accessories from the enemy’s bodies, wiping their blood on the cloth of your dress, before fixing them back easily into your hair.

The dog licks your face unexpectedly, jerking you from it, and you fall completely silent and stunned at what it had just done.

“Boy, what are you doing to me? You can’t just lick someone like that, even if that is in your nature,” you say, face contoured with disgust as you bring him into your hands and extend your arms out so that he’s unable to continue licking you.

He barks with complaint, and there’s a small snicker that you hear from across the room.

When you turn to look, you’re greeted unexpectedly by the very man you came to meet tonight, standing beside Asher with a few guards next to him.

The little dog twists out of your hand and jumps back onto the floor, rushing over to Alexander who easily picks him up.

Ah. So it was his dog. Now it makes sense why the enemies were after me. The dog’s special to him.

“Are you not used to that?” The old man asks when you pat your hand down onto your dress. His English has a bit of an accent, not too distinct, but he’s not as fluent as Asher is.

“Suddenly getting licked in the face? No sir, I have not.”

“He likes you.” The men beside him move to take the enemies away at Alexander’s head signal, and you watch the way the old man pets the little puppy on the head. “Kiwi doesn’t like just anyone.” Kiwi. “They say dogs are better at judging people than humans.”

What are you supposed to say to that? “...Do they now?”

“Come.”

He turns, with the dog in hand, and you blink.

“Huh?”

But he ignores you to give an order to the lady you reduced under the pillar. “Have a room ready for the lady and send people to tend to her.”

“Pardon me sir, but I can take care of myself. I have a place nearby—”

“My place is closer,” he says, and with that, he’s walking off without letting you have another word in, leaving you to simply stand there with a dumbfounded expression.

When you look at Asher who’s still here, he sends you a shrug, along with a small, amused smile curling along his lips. He looks impressed and he probably is, because you’ve just gotten your chance at speaking to Alexander Larsen without approaching him first.

💜💜💜

baby (you complete us) 5

C H A P T E R   F I V E 

Summary: Soulmates were a common occurrence, so common, in fact, that the world sought an easier way to find your other half: A bracelet that would scan your mark and match you with those who shared your mark. Within recent years, soul groups were becoming normal, and your own bracelet said you have seven matches.

Or where you wear your bracelet for ten years, and finally give up the hope you would find your soul group, only for BTS to put theirs on and see what they were missing.

Genre: soulmate au, idol au, angst, fluff, eventual smut,

Pairing: Idol BTS x Disabled MC

Warnings: angst, mentions of depression, disabled mc (Ehlers Danlos syndrome), eventual smut, fluff, lots of fluff, mentions of disability, simp bangtan

Chapter Warnings: not much, anxious feelings, insecurities, joint dislocation, talk of kink, yoongi being a tease, 

masterlist // chapter 4 // chapter 6

taglist:  @imnotlauriane​  @mageprincess7​ @m1sss1mp​ @0funsite0​  @strawberry-moonpies​ @this-isthe-way​ @singukieee​ @btsw1fe​ @gooooomz​  @fluffy-canada-pancakes​ @carolinexkpop​ @agusfree​ @sakurarukas​ @iamkookiesforyou​ @skyys-universe​ @toughbook​ @plutoneu​ @whisperssuga​ @welcometomyworld13​ @yuzon3​ @wittyreader​ @jnghs​ @cyd0129​ @exfolitae​ @queen-in-the-shadows​ @nen-nyy​ @pandxthings​ @schniti-is-in-the-house​ @juju-227592​ @jinseartharmysmoon​ @wooya1224​ @ddaeng-angmoh​ @gratefullygrateful​ @rorythme​  @veronawrites​​ @xiusmarshmallow​​ @xicanacorpse​​ @kalala22​​ @ok-boke​​ @namjoonswaifu​​ @sweetcheeksdna​​ @hyunjingin​​  @promiseokza​​ @mushroom-main​​ @bookluver01​​

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———————————————

Previously on baby (you complete us):

“I guess I should thank you for the box then, Yoongi?” You lean forward, causing the male to blush a little. He just nods shyly and says you’re welcome with a shrug of his shoulders.

“Well, thank you a lot, Yoongi. I appreciate the package and will make sure to wear this to the airport.” You smile, your small cheek dimples poking through as you do making Namjoon smile back. You move the items back in the box as the others shout protests. Claims of cheating thrown around, all of them wanting you to wear something they picked out to the airport.

“Maybe next time, you guys!” You try to ease the play fighting, thoroughly amused by the proud smirk on Yoongi’s lips.

Keep reading

♡

💜💜💜

cry me a river | the apologies

— summary: how many apologies have you heard in your life? too many to count

— pairing: bts x reader

— genre: angst, mafia!au

— word count: 5.7k

— warnings: none

— PART 21 / previous post / masterpost

“Do you know how much we panicked when you didn’t come home and fell out of the radar?” When Namjoon finally gets a moment amidst the whole chaos of Yoongi finally back with you still unconscious even after the successful surgery, the door is closed and locked, and no one except the seven of them stands in the room of the hospital that is still hosting you. They can finally confront Yoongi about what happened.

“I thought I knew Min Yoongi but the moment you were kidnapped, everything that I thought I knew about you fell out of place when I tried connecting everything to see what happened, who you angered, the people you were around before you joined me, but I came up with nothing. You’re not someone who’ll go out there secretly meeting up with leaders and pissing them off, I know that, and I trust the person that you are now, right in front of me, so I knew whoever was trying to hurt you couldn’t possibly be someone we know, and that’s when I figured there’s been something you haven’t told us. Perhaps it doesn’t matter now, and perhaps it’s all in the past for you, but Min Yoongi, I have to know everything because the moment you get hurt again, I won’t stand for it.”

“There isn’t anyone else,” Yoongi says, quick but truthful, and so they listen in to what he has to say. Yoongi hesitates for a moment, remembering what you asked him in the alleyway a few days ago, how you asked whether Namjoon would care now, and because he knows the answer, he takes a deep breath to let the truth tell itself. “I am,” he pauses, “was, the heir of the Viper gang.”

They react with dumbfounded expressions, and Yoongi knows it’s a shock because how would anyone have figured that out? He’s always been quiet, stood back to let others handle things, dislikes watching people getting tortured, and does everything the opposite of what an heir does.

Every child that’s born under a mafia ruler is taught to stand formidable, act a certain way, and talk a certain way. No one has ever been an exception, so of course it comes out as a shock when Yoongi reveals to them that not only is he related to the Vipers but was the son of Min Junmyeon.

And he had a sister.

“Junmyeon never said anything because I was like a child thrown out of the throne that was meant to be his. Although I wasn’t kicked out.” He looks up, a small, bitter smile curling up just slightly. “I didn’t lie when I said I ran away from the life I was born into. I did run. I ran because I was invisible and because no one cared. They didn’t care to search for me and force me back so I didn’t return. For some time I was content with that life. I wasn’t happy but I wasn’t sad. I was okay with it. When Nari was born, Junmyeon took a whole 180-degree turn and flipped his switch. His whole life was dedicated to her but I never came to resent the way she stole the attention of everyone in the gang. I didn’t care, but I did want to seek approval. What sort of child wouldn’t? I was a good brother, protected her when needed, but eventually I grew tired of being invisible to everyone and just ran. When no one came searching for me, I returned once to see how things were, to see if they had cared but just had a hard time looking for me. But in the end, no one sought out for the lost heir, they probably didn’t even notice, so I took off to the streets and decided it was better there than to live a doll life, invisible to everyone.”

When he speaks of his past, the sort of person he was before he met them, Yoongi doesn’t speak with emotions. He isn’t that man who was filled with emotions days ago when they brought you here, when he didn’t want anyone close enough to touch you, when he took his promise to you to heart. 

Perhaps it was his guilt toward you, perhaps it was his way of apologizing, and no one would blame him for that.

Yet this Yoongi is different. This Yoongi is the usual Yoongi everyone sees, the Yoongi who looks so lifeless, who looks as if he has no heart or anything he desires in this life.

“We were enemies then,” he tells Namjoon, and this time there’s a bit of life, a small little crease in between his brows. “Your gang and the Vipers didn’t get along and, I knew who you were when you saved me that day from those thugs, yet I still followed you because you were the first person who saw me. You saw me and you saved me, while back in the Viper’s manor, I was kidnapped along with Nari and took a scar down my back for her but no one cared. They never cared, and when I received my first kindness…I decided to follow you. But I was too guilty to tell you the truth about who I was and where I came from. That’s why I never said anything.”

“But the Vipers stopped mattering to me a few years after we met,” Namjoon points out. “Why did you never tell me then?”

“I…” He catches himself, pausing, and takes a brief glance at the others. “Everyone else…went through something much worse than I,” he says. Softly. They watch him with confusion though let him keep speaking. “I grew up alright. I grew up privileged. The only thing about me was Junmyeon’s neglect and being invisible to everyone in that manor. Compare that to what everyone else went through? I didn’t want to bring my problems in, I didn’t want to inconvenience anyone with my useless worries. You all had people after you, wanting to actively hunt you down and hurt you.”

“Just because you didn’t have people actively trying to kidnap you doesn’t mean you were safe from the abuse,” Hoseok cuts in as he strolls down to take Yoongi’s hands. He was there when Namjoon saved him, he was right there to have seen the scars Yoongi retained and the pain in the little boy’s expression that night. Yoongi may act like he never cared back then but he did. And both Namjoon and Hoseok have seen it to remember the story otherwise.

“In the end, you were still kidnapped. They showed up years too late but you still ended up hurt.” Seokjin places a hand on his face, brows creased when he runs a smooth thumb over the bandage wrapped around his eye.

“This wasn’t because they went out of their way to hurt me,” Yoongi admits, the good eye meeting the floor with a little tilt in his head. “I actually got hurt because Nari was about to kill Y/N and stepped forth trying to stop her and in the process, she got my eye.”

So they really did have intentions to kill you.

“You watched her too, didn’t you?” Taehyung asks. “It wasn’t just Sunoo. You saw it too.”

He wonders how he would have felt being in his hyung’s position, watching the woman he once loved going through such torture right before his eyes, all the while knowing he could do nothing. In the end, Yoongi was able to save you. In the end, Yoongi carried you out and ran you to safety with the little kid who had been the reason the both of you couldn’t get out that soon.

You both sacrificed something.

Namjoon holds Yoongi’s face in his hands and presses their foreheads together, closing his eyes as he tries to envision the pain. Yoongi will only be able to use one eye from now on, and although it will take a moment, he’ll adjust and he’ll get used to it. But for now, they’re here for him, through and through.

“From now on, no more secrets,” he whispers into the silence that walks in. “I don’t want to know how it feels to lose someone else. I can’t.”

.

.

.

Quiet.

Silence saved by the beeping on the monitor that indicates you still live, that your heart is still racing. Yuna, still seated on the floor but now on the floor of the room you’ve been relocated to, sits still to hear the sound, not moving an inch because if she cannot see, she can hear. It’s the only thing that’s keeping her sane.

Mingyu sits on a chair by your bedside. Dasom stands against a wall beside the door, arms crossed, eyes closed. Yeonjun sits on the couch along a wall, watching Sunoo who had refused to leave until he sees you wake, and in his stubbornness to sleep when needed, he’s finally managed to fall asleep with the sleeping dose Yeonjun used on him.

A few more Reapers stand outside the door, watching, waiting.

A finger twitches, subtly, but it doesn’t leave the hawk eyes of your right hand man. 

“Boss?” He calls, standing.

A heartbeat.

Then before he realizes, an arm extends out of nowhere, leaving him in a chokehold with a grip that has lost much of her strength after the event she’s gone through.

“Boss, it’s Mingyu,” Dasom quickly says when she runs to your side and Yuna has followed along.

Your eyes which had been deadly and alerted with suspicion, loses their glare once you realize who the person that had been by your side was. 

You loosen your grip around Mingyu’s neck, brows furrowing slightly as you take a look at your hand, realizing there are white bandages wrapped all the way up to your neck You stare at your fingers, noticing the pain in your wake, before something hits you and you feel a strong headache pounding hard.

You look over at Mingyu when you get up with the help from Dasom, feeling some sense of deja vu, though you can’t explain why.

“Have I…choked you..before?” You ask. As ridiculous as it sounds — because you’d never lay a hand on your Reapers — something about it just feels a bit…familiar, for some reason. Maybe you’re still dreaming, maybe the madness is spreading and you’re just making things up now but why, for some reason, do you feel as if you’ve held Mingyu by the neck before?

Mingyu doesn’t hesitate nor does he look away when he answers; “No.”

You have your reply and yet it still feels odd when you bring your hand to your head, slowly and gently rubbing your temples as you close your eyes. But then something suddenly hits you and you open your eyes again.

“Where am I?” This isn’t the manor or any place that belongs to you. You’d recognize it if it was.

“It’s a small hospital that belongs to Bangtan,” Mingyu explains. “It was the closest place they could get you to for help.” Your eyes widen in alertness but he’s quick to continue before your heart rate can increase. “As far as I know, Mr. Min was the only one to have touched you. He fended off anyone that tried to get close.”

Yoongi went to the extent for you?

You look down at yourself again, dressed in something you’ve never worn before and it almost feels as if you’re playing some patient in a mental ward. Father never cared to send you to hospitals when you were hurt, you were always taken care of by the medic team or during times when he’d punish you by not enlisting their help, it was your Reapers that had to find what they could to help you.

You’ve never been bedridden in a hospital bed before.

What a sight to behold.

You hate it.

When you throw the blanket off you and try to pull the uncomfortable IVs from your wrist, Mingyu takes your hand to stop you. “Look at your legs, boss, you can’t walk. And you’re still in pain everywhere.”

Wrapped legs. Wrapped arms, torso, and chest.

You look like a mummy.

“I’m not in pain,” you deny. “I can walk—”

“No, you can’t.” He stands tall, refusing to let you do what you wish and you know Mingyu only does this when you’re putting your health at risk otherwise he’d never go against you.

Still, you shake your head when he tries to put you back and they hear the way your heart rate increases. You look over at the sound of the monitor, falling with even more loathe because that thing is like a window to the things you want to hide. You try to push Mingyu off, a lump in your throat because it feels like you’re a prisoner and you don’t want to be here.

You don’t want to be here.

“I don’t like this,” you breathe out but Mingyu holds your shoulders and leans in close.

“That isn’t for you to say and this isn’t the place to panic,” he reminds you in a low tone and you know. You know this isn’t the place, you aren’t safe here, you aren’t safe to express and panic and get upset and do whatever it is you want to do but that’s exactly why you don’t want to be here.

You aren’t safe.

“I want to go home.” A shudder comes through you, a tremor in your hands.

The monitor continues updating.

Beep. Beep. Beepbeep—

“Stop it. Please, stop it. Don’t let them come in.” You know it’s alerting whoever can hear it outside this room. You know the door is about to open because you’re a patient and patients mean listening to what the doctors say and what the nurses say and what everyone else says. “Don’t let them come. Don’t let them come.”

“Yeonjun.” He takes Sunoo in his arms upon Mingyu’s command, leaving out the door. “Yeong.” Mingyu speaks into an earpiece and Lisa, Haneul, and Yiseul rush in.

Mingyu, Dasom, and Yuna back off to let them do their job while outside the door, Yeong and Jae have stepped up to stand guard.

“What’s going on?” Namjoon asks when the two Reapers hold their hands up, refusing to let anyone else in. From where he stands, along with the curtain covering the one window of the door, he can’t see what’s going on.

“We cannot let you in,” Yeong says strictly. “Please. For our boss’s privacy.”

“Is she hurting again?” Sunoo, who had woken up amidst the chaos, asks with worry shaking him once again.

“It’s not what you’re imagining,” Yeonjun tells him straightforwardly in a blunt tone, before looking up at the group that has gathered as if telling Namjoon he should know exactly what he means.

Upon that subtle confirmation, Namjoon backs down, nodding at his people to leave you be, before he walks off with Yoongi and Jungkook following behind.

On the other side of the wall, you must be awake and not taking things well. You’re panicking perhaps, losing your composure, and only the Reapers are allowed to see anything of that relating to you. No one else.

Back in the manor when you had confronted him and pretended to be the bad guy in his life, he saw a brief moment of you losing your composure. They all did. 

The moment you realized you had touched Namjoon, the moment everything started coming down so you walked over to a corner away from them all. You held yourself well despite everything threatening to tear you apart and Mingyu came in time to get you out of there, but in this hospital where you’ve undergone surgery and cannot move around so carelessly, there is only so little your mind can do to trick you out of panic.

And perhaps because it’s failing to protect you from the eyes of strangers, from the eyes of people you don’t trust, maybe that’s why the Reapers have all come into defense mode and have refused anyone to go near you.

“I want to go home.” Meanwhile, you repeat those words inside the room, feeling your throat clogging up and something scratching it so hard you wish to just tear it out. “I want to go home. Take me home.”

The monitor is still going off while you try to shake the hands that try to hold you down, kicking off the blanket, struggling to stay still.

“I want to go home..” Soon your voice dies down, quieting, quieting, until it turns completely silent and you’re simply doing nothing but trembling uncontrollably. You let your knees kick up to your chest, head lowered into them, hands coming around to cover your ears and they know. They know what’s happening.

You’ve never been loud. Not ever.

And although the silence, coldness, and the dark scares you more than anything else in this life, it is the only thing you succumb to when you feel as if everything has gone out of control.

Your silence tears your Reapers apart because it is your silence that tells them you aren’t okay.

That you’re in your most frightened state.

Lisa lets Mingyu come close when you succumb to the silence and they all stand back to watch him work his magic.

He dips the bed when he takes a seat, and when he reaches out to give your arm a tentative touch and you don’t flinch away, he allows himself closer. He puts both his legs onto the bed and pulls you in like you’re nothing but a small little child who needs calming down. Mingyu brings you into his lap and takes your hand from your ear, letting your head rest against his chest so you can hear the beat of his heart, and wraps his arms around you in a soft, soft embrace.

It takes time but eventually, the shaking stops. Eventually, the tension falls away and you allow yourself to welcome the embrace and let your limbs fall loose.

Too tired to hold up.

Too tired to keep strength.

Beep…beep…beep…

Your heartbeat slows as it follows after the one you’re listening to as if it is the only sound in this world that can save you from the depth of the sea.

The sound of the whale singing you a lullaby and bringing you to fall asleep once again.

.

.

.

“Deal with them. I don’t know what Yoongi wants but it’s not my call to have them dead.”

Days after sending that letter off to Namjoon once things started to calm down on your end, you hear news of the remaining members of the Vipers completely wiped out. You’d been back at your manor for a good time now, ever since waking up for the second time and finding relief in knowing you weren’t at some unknown place. Luckily. 

Your Reapers always know just what to do when a situation calls for it and you’re glad you have them by your side.

With you bedded and unable to walk and do much on your own, you let them follow you through words alone. The Academy is to set up training lessons on both combat and weapon skills. Initially, when building the school you thought against the idea, but since Sunoo’s been used against you as leverage, you figure giving them some life skills should come in handy in the future. They won’t become your little assassins per se but if they want to survive in this world, they have to learn how to fight it. It’s for their own survival, you can’t have a situation with Sunoo repeating again. They should at least know how to defend themselves if anything.

You’ve also told your Reapers the names of the people that have hurt you before, the ones they don’t know of, the ones from before Yuna arrived. It’s a secret you’ve always kept in the back of your memories, not wanting them to return, but if another situation comes out in a similar fashion, you’d rather be prepared.

They have to know, even if it’s just names.

At least then they won’t be led into the dark if you’re taken away again and will have a better chance at suspecting who.

When you’re good enough to stand on your feet and when Mingyu stops becoming so overbearing, the first place you visit is The Academy where Sunoo stays in his dorm alone, isolated from the rest.

“What’re you doing not playing with your friends?” His head perks up when he hears your familiar voice, that look of dread and loneliness brightened up if even for a moment. You see the way his eyes light up, widening, his feet meeting the floor when he jumps down from his bed, quick on his knees with a head lowered down to the floor before anyone can tell him anything.

You freeze in the moment, silent, before signaling to Yeong to have the door closed so that only you and Mingyu remain.

Your second in command walks off to the side, leaning against the wall to give you space when you approach the little boy whose shoulder trembles when lowered before you.

“Sunoo,” you call, and he flinches a little. “It is during times like this you should surround yourself with your peers, otherwise—”

“I’m sorry,” he cuts you off and you simply stand there again, not approaching any further.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Yuna, age thirteen, tears rolled down her working eyes when you ran to room 157. “I just…I just want to make it all better.” Apologizing because she was incompetent.

“I’m sorry.” Mingyu, age twenty-six, uttered the only words he could find when you told him one could not break a broken person. “I want to save you.” But he can’t.

“I’m sorry.” Yeonjun, age ten, handing you a cup of rose water, his jaws clenched after your father’s Reapers left the room. “It’s tea,” he says. “It isn’t poisoned,” he says. And you drink it.

“I’m sorry.” Dasom, age twenty-four, blood on her face, blood on her hands, knelt before you with a head lowered, shoulders trembling. “I won’t make the same mistake as he did.” Killed the first Reaper that almost spilled your secrets.

“I’m sorry.” Nakyum, age seventeen, accepts his fate with a smile, eyes only looking your way with the rest of your Reapers surrounding him. The first to lose control, the first unable to restrain himself. “I hope in my next life, I can run to your side without having to hold myself back. May we meet again…in that life.” Dead.

Someone apologizes when they can do nothing. Someone apologizes when they’ve done something. In the end, fate will always pull the people around you into the hell you’ve been born into. No matter how much you push them away to escape it, to live the life they so deserve, they remain still and stubborn, vowing to always stay by your side no matter what.

Yuna lost her eyes. Nakyum lost his life.

No one else.

No one else.

You sit on the floor in front of Sunoo, crossing your legs together and close your eyes. You take in a deep breath, in and out, head tilted to the sky as if sending a prayer to Nakyum, asking him to continue his duties in watching over you all. You’re still selfish to this day, wanting to hold onto the dead.

“You did well,” you say into the silence. “You did well.”

Sunoo shakes his head, still unable to look you in the eyes. Perhaps feeling unworthy to do so. “You almost died.”

“But I didn’t,” you affirm and you see the way his hands ball into fists, turning knuckle white. “One day, perhaps, you can be like that gentleman that stepped in to take the blade for me. One day you will be strong to protect the ones you care about. But until that day comes, you have to accept the fact that you’re weak. Do not dwell on what could have been, dwell on how you could have done better. You acted well and played your part. Nari wanted you to scream and lose control, she wanted you to beg her to not hurt me, she wanted to watch you fall apart. If you had fallen victim to her play, she would have done worse on me, Sunoo, I know she would have. There are people who exist to make things harder on others. There are people who exist to laugh in the face of tears.”

“Even still—”

“Even still,” you cut him off, repeating those two words with more emphasis, “you are a child. And you cannot expect to do anything more than to stand and watch. Sometimes being a good bystander is all there is to do. Sometimes being a good bystander is all you can do. You protected me, Sunoo, so do not apologize for doing what I had asked you to do. But if you find yourself still dwelling on the fact that you should have done better,” you lift his head from where it sits, resting a cold hand on his face when he tries so hard to keep the tears back for your sake, “get stronger.”

Sunoo bites onto his lower lip, eyes kept wide and unblinking because he knows that if he wishes to not cry, a single blink will allow the rain to fall. “Yes, my lady.”

You pat him on the head and stand from your seat before simply walking off. 

When the door closes behind you, only then does he finally allow himself to cry.

“I’m sorry,” his voice breaks when Mingyu approaches him on the floor, hands rushing to wipe his tears yet they keep on coming. “I’m sorry I…I don’t know how to stop. The lady hates tears and yet—”

“You did well.”

Sunoo shakes his head. “I still showed her my tears. I..I-I’m not supposed to—”

“Boss was born in an environment that forced her to block all her emotions out. Her own father was a manipulating man who is incompetent of feeling. You are seven.” He places a hand on Sunoo’s shoulder and gives him a gentle squeeze. “Boss built you a place under her rule so that children like you do not have to live the life she led. She will forgive you if you cry.”

And so he does.

He cries. 

This time without hands pushing the tears away, this time with snot and hiccups and sounds. And as Mingyu watches the little kid who was forced to hold a weight upon those shoulders, he wishes he could see the same with you.

Crying.

And not succumbing to the silence.

.

.

.

“Should you be walking on your feet so casually like that?”

One question still remains. One question that has you questioning everything else.

Why the hell does Namjoon seem so cool about everything?

I mean you didn’t provoke him any further and made jabs at him but why are the two of you okay enough to send letters to each other regarding the Viper situation? Isn’t he supposed to be mad at you for Jungwon? And the fact that you got Yoongi hurt to the point of him only being able to see through one eye now? Namjoon’s protective when it comes to his loved ones getting hurt so why aren’t you being yelled at? And why was he cool enough to send you to their private hospital and even had doctors on standby? You didn’t use them but that’s beside the point.

Is it because you were on the verge of death? But Namjoon never cared about that when it came to his enemies.

You look over at Yoongi not so discreetly, a tilt in your head, confusion plastered on your face, and in his own confusion as to why you turned to him in the first place, he simply gives you no response.

So you turn back to Namjoon, shrugging at his question. “It’s been over a month, I wouldn’t let just anyone take me down like that.”

He hums, agreeing, and you take another look at Yoongi who doesn’t avoid eye contact. The last time you saw him he was all bloody, blood dripping past the wet cloth you placed over his eye. The last time was when you were in that alleyway, telling him to not let anyone touch you.

He kept his promise, according to Mingyu, and perhaps that was his showing of apology for what he’d done to you all those years ago. You wouldn’t deem Yoongi as someone to have ignored the little trust you had put in him.

“I have a question, Kim Namjoon.” You turn to the man in charge. “Did what happened the last time we met each other fly past your head? Because it awfully feels as if it’s not affecting you one bit. Unless this is all just a ploy to lure me in and kill me afterwards.”

He raises a brow. “You think I like playing things out in the long run?”

Right. When it comes to Namjoon, whatever he wants, whoever he wants dead, they usually die within a week of his declaration. He doesn’t do the waiting game.

“Then why am I still alive?” You ask so casually it’s as if you were speaking of the weather. “Are you a fool?”

“I’m not a fool, Y/N, and that’s precisely why I will not kill you, whether you try to force my hands or not.” He gives you a pointed stare and you look away, arms crossing over your chest. Namjoon continues under your silence. “Did you know that in a moment of weakness, you let your mask fall? Did you really think I’d continue believing you so easily? After that act you played and went into madness?”

You ball your hand into a fist, ready to cut back. “I—”

“You didn’t kill Jungwon, but you know exactly who did it.” Those eyes of his, when you look at them, dares for you to refute the claim he just made and it brings a shiver down your spine. He’s never been one to play around, rarely cracks jokes, is always aloof, and has that resting glare on his face. Perhaps you shouldn’t have chanted those words so much you brought yourself into madness.

It was your fault your mask fell.

“And until you’re willing to tell me, I won’t accept your deal in wanting to cut Bangtan off your allied forces.”

You frown at his proposition, confused. “Wha—”

“You need me, Y/N,” he cuts you off, getting straight to the point and you sit there, simply staring with a dumbfounded expression. “I have more power and influence than the Reapers do. I have ways to get dirt over anyone and I have connections. That’s why you approached me in the first place; because you needed to use my power. I will continue to give you that. I’ll allow you to use me. And when you’re done using me, you can throw me out after giving me the truth to who killed Jungwon.”

Seokjin, who had stood beside Yoongi this whole time, slides a paper over to you and when you look at it, you realize it’s a contract. A new one.

You only have to glance at it for a brief moment to understand the words that are written there. “You’re giving me quite the advantage, Namjoon.”

Total control to be able to use him whenever, as long as you’re able to provide him information on his brother’s death once you are done with him. In translation: he was allowing you to treat him as a pawn.

“You know all I want is the truth about my brother, and you’re the only one who can provide me with that.”

The last person to have seen Kim Jungwon. The only person besides Namjoon to have been close to him.

You raise a brow his way, suspicious. “All for some information, you’re willing to become my pawn.”

“You believed I had treated you as such all those years ago, would it not be fair?”

He doesn’t say it straight out but you know just what he’s trying to imply. You were once a pawn in the chess game he played with your father, used as a leverage, and free to ask anything of you. And being the sort of person that you were all those years ago, you could never say no to what Namjoon asked of you. Three years passed, he grew tired of you, and discarded you to be eaten up by the enemy.

This is, in unspoken words, his apology.

You take the pen from the table to scribble out your signature before standing up to walk out without another word.

Though you pause right before you can open the door, turn a step around to address Yoongi, giving him a small bow. “Thank you.” And walk out.

Yoongi’s way of apology meant a lot more. You don’t want some discreet way of apology, you don’t want to play fire with fire even though that had been your intention from the very beginning. But even then, it was never your intention to take revenge back on Namjoon just to use him as a pawn.

It’s not what you want.

You want him begging on his knees the way you had done. You want him begging you for forgiveness and actually mean it.

You can accept Yoongi’s apology. You won’t forgive him yet but you can accept it. He stepped up when you were on the verge of death, stood in front of a blade, and had his own eye blinded. He then picked both you and Sunoo up in his arms and took revenge back on the Vipers, successfully killing them off in one go. And with the little trust you gave him in your moment of weakness, he kept his word and warded off anyone that tried to get close to you.

The Reapers were contacted, rushed to your side, and took care of you.

In the beginning, Yoongi was just a victim who had to fall prey into making a decision he hadn’t wanted to make.

Kim Namjoon’s taking a step but he’s still lightyears away from forgiveness.

Feelings cannot be forced, feelings are something you will not blame him for, but because he lied to you and betrayed your trust, you know you won’t let him off easily.

💜💜💜

Loving You isn't Hard to Learn 06

genres: hybrid, romance, found family, slow burn(ish) series rating: mature (mentions of/references to death and abuse. eventual smut) chapter warnings (may contain spoilers): mentions of death. accusations of drugging/roofie-ing. descriptions of injury to the face. the reader character cooks meat; if you don't eat meat, please think of it as them just cooking it for other people. relationship(s): ot7 x female reader

In the middle of what many would call nowhere, a sign glows bright yellow. Old, unmaintained, and on its last legs, the letter e flickers for a few seconds before going dark. H aven’s Door Motel, it now reads.

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The floor is cold when you wake up on it, though not as cold as it could be, so you must've been sleeping on the floor for at least a couple hours. As you sit up, you try to get on your knees, but find your legs tangled up in half of a throw blanket. You grumble, touching one hand to the side of your head, where you had to have laid directly on the floor rather than the throw pillow you can see pushed under the coffee table. Okay, you're definitely not telling Hoseok your head kind of hurts. He's already enough of a worrywart. Speaking of...

Looking up at the couch, you see Hoseok's sleeping face smushed against the cushion, his hair ruffled all over and his mouth slightly open. Upon closer inspection, a small wet spot of drool has grown on the couch cushion directly under his mouth. You grimace at that but quickly shake the split second of disgust away. It's just saliva; it'll wash out just fine.

You untangle yourself from the blanket, and when you stand up, you drape it over Hoseok's sleeping form as quietly as you can. Yawning, you head to the kitchen, first filling your kettle and turning it on, then moving to the other side of the counter and unplugging your phone from the wall. As the screen flicks on, you see a missed call from Lee Minhyuk from only a few minutes ago, and a text from him that followed soon after.

It seems I forgot to leave one last thing to you. I found it in our storage this morning. I'll be in my office all day if you'd like to come and pick it up. Otherwise, please let me know by phone call.

As professional as always, this guy. Glancing over at the microwave, you take note that it's only 8:56AM, which isn't that early for someone like him, but still. Lee Minhyuk is punctual, you'll give him that. Well, you suppose if you head out soon, you could get back before ten, depending on what it is Minhyuk forgot to give you. Some paperwork, maybe. He did say before that Mr. Jung had liquidated everything he owned other than the motel... You wonder what it could be.

Not wanting to wake your two house guests up, you stop the kettle before it can beep to signal that it's boiled and pour the hot water over a tea bag in a to-go mug to let it steep while you get changed. You sneak on tip-toes back to your room, and you move your hand as deftly as possible on your bedroom doorknob, focusing on your feet as you step in and close the door behind you. Bee-lining to your dresser, you tug off your pyjamas and pull on some fresh clothes as quietly as you can.

But when you turn around, Jimin is sitting up in your bed and looking at you with a frown.

"Oh my gosh!" You jump and pat a hand over your heart, taking a sharp breath in at the sudden sight of him. He barely reacts, just raising one of his eyebrows at you, his bottom half still snug under the comforter. "How long were you just sitting there?"

Eyes still half closed, Jimin says, "Long enough."

"Oh. Well..." Embarrassment trickles along your veins knowing he watched you trying to quietly sneak in. He looks too tired and uninterested to care about the fact that you changed right in front of him, though. There goes your confidence in your own sex appeal. "...Did you sleep okay?"

"It was fine." His words come out short and curt, and you can't quite pinpoint why, but you get a weird feeling as you try not to narrow your eyes. He flips the covers off himself and swings his legs over the edge of the bed, using his hands at his sides to push himself off and stand. His eyes dart around your room. "Where are my clothes?"

You blink. "Oh. They're in a hamper in the bathroom. I was planning on putting them through the wash and then making something to eat." Of course, stopping by Lee Minhyuk's office threw a tiny wrench in those plans, but still, you weren't expecting this from Jimin as soon as he woke up. Whatever this is.

Just as he tries to exit your bedroom, you move to stand between him and the door, your hand held up. Jimin stops himself before either of you touch, and he frowns slightly when you go, "Whoa, hold on. What's the hurry?"

"I have to go back."

"Go back?" you echo, confusion tinged in your voice, but Jimin doesn't bother. He gently puts a hand on your wrist and moves you out of the way, which you let him do all too easily in your stupor. Go back? To the streets? Blinking and shaking yourself out of it, you turn to follow him into the bathroom, where you watch him find his dirty clothes at the top of the pile in the hamper. "What do you mean?"

Jimin doesn't look at you as he focuses on unbuttoning his pyjama top. "She's looking for me."

Sputtering, you completely miss the fact that Jimin is taking off his clothes right in front of you. "Rayoung?"

Even though he doesn't answer you, the determined look in his eyes tells you you're right. He slips on his old clothes and pushes past you again.

"She is?" You struggle to follow both him and his words, stepping into the main living space after him. "How do you know--"

Jimin whips around, and you almost bump into him, but your feet screech to a halt directly in front of him. He glares at you with those piercing brown eyes. "She loves me," he says.

Your mouth opens and closes like those dogs in kids movies they'd feed peanut butter to so it'd look like they were talking. You can't say what you think, no, that would be too harsh. You can't just say outright that someone who loves him wouldn't leave him to live miserably like he did. But, what can you say? You don't want him to go back to where he was, even if what he thinks of Rayoung is true... not when you have something within likeness of a solution so close to falling in your grasp. You were planning on going to the motel this evening with Hoseok -- and, ideally, Jimin -- to scope out the building better and finally figure out what the hell you're doing.

"Jimin..." You hold yourself back from reaching out to him, knowing that your touch might be the last thing he wants. "At least eat something..."

"I'm not hungry," he tells you, and with the conviction he puts behind the words, you almost believe him.

"C'mon, at least a bite--"

"No!"

Jimin's sudden volume startles you, and your eyes go wide as he pushes both hands against you, causing you both to stumble back a step. You stare at your feet for half a second before looking back up at him, a breath of a laugh tainted with disbelief puffing past your lips. "What--"

"Don't come any closer!" He wraps his arms around his chest and scrunches his eyes shut. "I don't know what was in that fucking tea, but you can't keep me here." His back turns to you. "Rayoung was right. I can't trust anyone."

Completely thrown off, you straighten up slowly, his words settling in your brain. "...Excuse me?"

Jimin says no more, simply standing there in the foyer with his back turned, shielding himself from... you.

Roused from his deep slumber, Hoseok appears next to you. His hair is tousled and pressed flat against the side of his head that he slept on, but the sight isn't as endearing as it would be if you weren't so baffled by what Jimin just said. Taking one step in front of you, Hoseok puts a hand on your arm before you've even realized you went to get closer to Jimin, one hand up and pointed at him.

"You--" Hoseok's firm grip on your arm stops you from getting far, and as he pulls you partway behind him and your shoulder bumps into his back, you lower your voice to a whisper. "You think I drugged you?"

With his head down low, Jimin still refuses to respond. His entire body trembles, fear coursing through him like rapids under his skin. Even you can see it.

But something fogs over your rationality.

"Are you serious right now? I didn't-- I would never--" You try to take a deep breath, but it gets stuck in your throat and only serves to fuel this ugly feeling inside your chest. "You're delusional."

Hoseok hushes out your name, a warning of sorts, or maybe something closer to a plea. You don't hear it past the ringing in your ears.

"And it's not because of anything in my fucking tea," you continue. "No, you know why you're delusional?"

Hesitantly, Jimin turns around half-way, his frowning profile causing that awful roiling in you to flare up.

"Because even though you've been living on the streets for months, starved enough to root through restaurant trash bins, abandoned by the very person who supposedly loves you--" Something flashes across Jimin's eyes, but you have no grasp of what it is. "--you still think she's coming back for you."

No one says anything for a second -- too long, and Hoseok's hand slides down your arm and gently wraps around your wrist. You tug it out of his grasp with a sharp inhale. "So let's just go," you say, walking to where you keep your car keys. The jingle-jangle as you pick up your keys is the only sound in the apartment aside from your footsteps. "I'll take you right now. Near Antonio's, right? She left you around there and that's where you think she'll go looking for you?"

Hoseok softly calls your name again, but you don't hear him. Jimin only follows you with angry eyes.

"I was on my way out anyway," you continue. With your hand already on the doorknob, you slip on your shoes. "So yeah, I have no problem with dropping you off on your own with nowhere to go." You pull the door towards you and step out, eyes still on your feet. "Where you have no sure way of getting food."

Jimin doesn't look at you as he puts on his shoes.

"Where Hybrid Services already know your face--"

Your words choke to a stop when you look down the hall towards the elevators. That damned fluorescent yellow armband you had no business caring about a couple days ago -- two of them -- appear in your sight just a few metres away, directly in front of the apartment-next-door's open entrance, where your neighbour to the right, Anne-Marie, is talking to the two officers.

Without uttering another sound, you push Jimin back inside your apartment as quickly and overtly as you can. Unfortunately, this means you achieve that by shoving your hand in Jimin's face, but your head isn't exactly in the right place to think about hiding-someone-away etiquette.

"Wha--?! Stop--!"

"Shh!" You make frantic eye contact with Hoseok while Jimin glares daggers at you. At this point, you know you can't just go back inside yourself; both the officers and your neighbour have probably seen you already. You keep your voice as quiet as you can, hoping the boys can still hear you with their weird hybrid powers. "Both of you, not a peep. Got it?"

You don't wait for either of them to answer before you grab the doorknob and swing the door shut in their faces. As soon as you look back down the hall, both officers, a man and a woman, and Anne-Marie are looking at you.

"Good morning," you greet with a slight bow, completely unsure of what to do or say next.

Would asking some sort of question be suspicious? Or would trying to walk by and ignoring them be even worse?

Either way, you have to get to the elevator...

Before you have to decide, (or maybe after you already should've, considering the awkward silence,) Anne-Marie waves you over with a slight frown. "Leaving so early today?"

"Ah..." You nod at her with a strained smile as you walk up to her and the officers, making sure to smile and nod at them too in that weird, you're not really part of this conversation but you're standing here so I'll try to include you sort of way. "Yes, I have some errands to run this morning."

Anne-Marie doesn't question you, thank goodness, and just gestures towards the officers. "Well you should hear them out before you go," she says. "Apparently there's a feral hybrid on the loose."

"Feral hybrid?"

You don't have to fake the initial look of concern that appears on your face, but the way you deepen your frown at the flyer one of the officers hands you is definitely for show.

"Yes," he confirms, face stiff and almost bored from repeating the words so many times to all the residents in the building already. "He ran away from a hybrid clinic in the city and was last spotted in this neighbourhood."

Anne-Marie nods along as he speaks and shakes her head when he points out the area the hybrid was spotted last night on a small map included in the flyer. "So close to home..." she mutters, which he ignores.

Continuing after him, the female officer speaks up. "We're doing rounds to make sure everyone living in the area is aware of the risks of a feral hybrid, as well as inform everyone of the proper procedure."

"Which is...?"

"Do not approach," the man tells you as your eyes finally focus in on the two pictures of the feral hybrid, one from the front and another of his profile. In both photos, he's smiling, eyes bright. "It's dangerous for regular citizens to attempt to capture feral hybrids. Leave it to the professionals and call Hybrid Services upon encounter."

He doesn't look so dangerous.

His smile is wide and almost boyish, like someone told him he was posing for a photo op rather than the strange hybrid-version of a mug shot it actually is. He holds up his name placard like it's an award he's proud of. "V," it reads, then a bunch of numbers underneath. His animal ears are perked straight up, and you can't tell what kind of ears they are in the grainy black-and-white pictures, not to mention how small they look compared to Hoseok's. Still, the deepness of his smile, the happiness in his eyes and the scrunch of his nose -- you're not scared at all.

You don't say any of that, though.

"I'll keep an eye out, thank you," you say with a polite smile. "What kind of hybrid is he?"

The two share a look, the female officer grimacing before she turns back to you. "That's unfortunately classified information."

"What? Why? Wouldn't it help us be safer and more prepared if we know what he looks like?" You turn to make eye contact with Anne-Marie, who drinks in your words and nods with a slight frown towards the officers, a finger propped concernedly on her chin.

The man sighs. "As much as I agree with you, these pictures are the only images any of us have to go off of. Even Hybrid Services hasn't been informed of his sub-species. It's private information belonging to the clinic, and legally, we don't need to have it to apprehend the hybrid."

"I see..."

After thanking them again and giving your due goodbyes, you do your best not to turn around and watch the officers as you wait for the elevator. You step into the elevator, and as your finger finds the button for the ground floor, you peak down the hall and let out a breath of relief. The officers seem to have skipped your door because you already spoke to them.

It would probably be suspicious to re-enter your apartment so soon while they're still patrolling your floor, you think. The last thing you need right now is Hybrid Services finding a reason to look into you.

And, maybe, you need a minute to yourself. Just to breathe.

You hadn't meant to snap at Jimin like that, it just... So much doesn't make sense to you. You've barely had Hoseok around for a few days, but you feel as though your friendship is something already. Maybe not something to be proud of, exactly, but it's something.

Jimin... you've known him for even less time, if you could even call that "knowing" him at all. And yet, you felt this strange surge of protectiveness over him.

You really hope that isn't part of the saviour thing Hoseok spoke of before...

Sighing into the empty elevator, you try not to think about the fact that it probably is, and instead focus on what is right in front of you. Your car keys are still in your hand, the shape imprinted into your palm from how hard your nerves had made you grip them between your fingers while you talked to the officers.

You take the coward's route and run away.

Lee Minhyuk's office building isn't that far in terms of distance, but the traffic around it is pure hell. It gives you much too much time alone with only your thoughts. You try to drown them out with whatever is on the radio, but even that can't seem to calm the disquiet within you. The more you think about the things you said, the more regret builds in your gut. What right did you have to say those things to Jimin? Sure, you think it's a fool's dream to believe this Rayoung girl is out there searching for him, but to purposefully shut him down like that? To crush that dream just because you got offended by emotions he was completely valid in feeling? Just because he's been scarred by humans before and you happen to be one? It's not his fault that he thought you might've drugged him, it's a product of--

"Ah, you're here."

Blinking, you realize that your body went on autopilot and walked you up to Lee Minhyuk's office without you knowing, and you watch his back as he goes to sit at his desk.

"Yeah I... got your text," you say dazedly, unsure of anything else you could possibly say in the moment.

"Well, it's good that you came. I wouldn't want you to go without this." Minhyuk holds his hand out, and you step closer to his desk to let him drop whatever the thing he forgot is in your awaiting palm.

A single key stares up at you, attached by a small ring to a simple metal tag.

Silver Meadows Columbarium, it reads.

"Oh."

Moving the key to your fingers, you flip over the tag and read lot C 258 on the back. You'd never heard of Silver Meadows Columbarium before. Never needed to...

"I believe Mr Jung set up his..." Minhyuk pauses as he mulls over his word choice. "...accommodations before he passed."

You can't help but ask, "Just him? No family, or...?"

Your words trail off, both of you knowing that Mr Jung left you as his sole benefactor. If he had family, he didn't leave them anything. Not even the location of his remains.

Minhyuk shakes his head, and you frown.

"He prepared for his own death all by himself?"

Your concern is met with a small, understanding smile on Minhyuk's face. "Well, he may have done the paperwork himself, but he wasn't alone. He had you."

"But I--" You hardly knew Mr Jung.

"He brought you up more than once," Minhyuk says, making you close your mouth and blink stupidly at him. At your silence, he continues. "He came to my office a few times to sign the papers and whatnot, and he mentioned you every time. Always said you're the only one who laughs at his jokes."

"They're funny!"

Your own response jars you a bit. The last time you said that, you thought Mr Jung was alive.

Minhyuk only smiles again, softly. "He was happy you thought so."

"Did he say that?"

"Not in so many words, but I it wasn't hard to tell. Don't get too caught up in the fact that Jung didn't have blood relatives he wanted to include in his will. Evidently--" He gestures to you. "--he had a family of sorts."

Except that you weren't it. You couldn't be, right?

A seedling plants itself in the forefront of your mind.

A seedling named Hoseok.

That's must be it -- Mr Jung wanted to leave his estate to Hoseok, but couldn't figure out how to, legally. Hybrids probably can't even have bank accounts, much less accept inheritance, which is why Mr Jung defaulted to you. He trusted you to help Hoseok start up Heaven's Door as the legal owner of the land it's built on.

In his letter, he'd said it's that it's you, whatever that means.

You look down at the key in your hand, taking a deep breath in. It might not be the key to Heaven's Door Motel, but you clutch it in your fingers, and as you step out of Lee Minhyuk's office, you make a silent promise to Mr Jung.

You'll get Heaven's Door up and running.

And you'll do a damn good job of it too.

=

When you return to your apartment, you have a brown paper bag of fresh pastries in your hand and a heavy something in your chest. You tried to figure out what you want to say to the two hybrids in your place on your way home, but it's hard. You feel like all you keep doing is messing up. Now, you even ran off without a word after seeing the Hybrid Services officers, which had to have freaked Hoseok out.

You grimace as you twist the doorknob. Less than an hour ago, you'd resolved yourself to running Heaven's Door with everything you've got, but are you really the right person for the job?

When you enter, you go to call out for Hoseok, but you freeze with your mouth partially open. The guys stand ramrod straight in front of you, Hoseok with a slight smile and Jimin with a hesitant clench of his jaw, arms crossed. You gape at them for a couple seconds until Hoseok frowns at Jimin and jabs his elbow into his side.

"Ow! What the--"

"Don't you have something to say?" Hoseok prompts through his teeth, a harsh grit to the question.

Jimin huffs, his arms shifting in front of his chest, hands holding his own arms a little tighter. He meets your eyes. "I'm--"

"Wait." You hold up a hand to stop him, not missing the confusion that flashes across Hoseok's face. Something like panic reflects in Jimin's eyes when he sneaks a glance at Hoseok, but you don't acknowledge it. "Let's talk." With the hand still holding the paper bag, you gesture towards the couch. "Have a seat. Both of you."

Jimin doesn't move until Hoseok does, following silently while Hoseok watches you out of the corner of his eye as he sits down.

You set the pastries on the kitchen table before making your way to them, stopping in front of the couch and chewing over your thoughts. Jimin regards you with a half-frown, brows knitted in apparent distrust. You can't really blame him.

If your ears were better, you might've heard the slight gasp Hoseok let out when you dropped to your knees, bent down, and pressed your forehead to your hands, which are now flat on the floor. You bow in front of them, let out a breath, and raise your head once you gather your thoughts, putting your hands respectfully on your lap. "I'm sorry," you say. "I fucked up."

Hoseok's ears twitch, dipping, and he scoots forward on the cushion, about to say something, but you don't let him.

"Jimin, I want to apologize for this morning. I had no right to react the way I did." You look at Jimin, but you can't read his face. "It's not your fault if humans have hurt you enough to make you think we're all the same. People can be... horrible. I wish things were different, but... I want you to know that I will never intentionally hurt you--" Your eyes meet Hoseok's. "--either of you. I'm not going to punish you. I'm not going to force or coerce you into anything you don't want to do. I don't want to be the kind of human you're afraid of."

Hoseok shakes his head. "I'm not afraid--"

"I can't promise I won't fuck up again," you say, wincing as you realize you've spoken over him, but when he doesn't speak up again, you continue. "I honestly feel like a walking disaster with how many times I've fucked up, and it's only been a couple days. Sometimes I speak before I think, and I really need to work on that. I'm sorry."

You don't know when you started staring into your lap, but you let out a long breath, and only after that do you slowly look up at the two hybrids. They both wear blank expressions, and it makes you want to shrink back in on yourself. "I just--"

"I lied," Jimin blurts out, and you face him, eyes slightly widening.

"...Lied? About what?"

Sighing, Jimin casts a glance at Hoseok, who nods determinedly. He fidgets with his hands, looking at them rather than meeting your eyes. "I guess, technically, Rayoung isn't looking for me right now," he mumbles. "But she will. As soon as she breaks up with her stupid tool boyfriend."

"Oh." You blink at Jimin. "Well, um... You're welcome to stay with us. Until then, I mean."

Jimin's lips form into a contemplative pout, but he says nothing.

You scratch the back of your neck. Is there a good way to approach this? "We could, um... let her know somehow? That you're with us."

You eye Hoseok, who's hopefully in the same boat for you to be saying we. He wasn't exactly Jimin's biggest fan last night, weird possessiveness over pyjama sets aside. Now, though, you see that even he can tell this Rayoung girl is bad news. Still, Jimin's ties to her seem to run deep, and you know it's nowhere near simple to tell someone a person they love isn't as great as they thought.

Jimin takes a deep breath in, his shoulders scrunching up as his body tenses and relaxes. "Can I... think about it?"

"Of course!" You perk up at the idea of him even considering your offer after the way you snapped this morning, and you point at the brown paper bag on the table. "Do you want to have breakfast while you think?"

While Jimin marks a straight line to the kitchen, Hoseok holds his hand out for you before you even move to get up. You take it, and he uses his other hand to gently grasp your elbow and lift you onto your feet. He doesn't let go right away, instead holding both your hands and whispering, "You shouldn't have gone out alone." He rubs his thumbs over your knuckles. "You're still concussed."

The proximity combined with his concern for you causes heat to stir in your chest. It's uncomfortable and foreign, so you try to force it down, smiling and letting out a chuckle that screams casual. You hope. "I can hold my own. Besides, I think I'm all better; right as rain up here." You pull one of your hands out of his tender hold and curl it into a fist, knocking on your cranium like a door. Except, the impact makes your brain swish around in your skull like gargled fluoride. "Whoa-- shit."

You sway, tipping the direction you knocked your own head into. Hoseok keeps you standing, but he doesn't like it. "You just proved my point."

"Listen--"

"From now on, no going off on your own," he says, and from his tone, there's no point in a rebuttal.

You roll your eyes, and, whoa, does the room always spin when you do that? Still, even wooziness can't stopper your sarcasm. "Protective much?"

"Kind of my job description."

"I thought I was your bodyguard," you tease, and he chuckles, his seriousness evaporating with the sound.

"As if--"

"You're dumb."

You and Hoseok both turn towards the kitchen, where Jimin stands next to the table with a half eaten pastry in his mouth. Ignoring the glare he's under from Hoseok, which you don't notice, he speaks around the pastry. "Only a dumb person would go out on their own in your condition."

Even though you're pretty sure he should be on the same side as Jimin on this, Hoseok sneers at him, the slightest of growls rumbling in his throat.

Jimin holds up a hand, mockingly. "Easy, pup."

"I'm older than you, punk!"

You can't help it; you laugh. Jimin is all over the place, accusing you of atrocities one second and talking to you and Hoseok like you're long-time friends the next. The two hybrids cease their bickering at the sound of your laughter.

"Okay, okay." You take a breath to stop the giggles threatening to break past your lips. "New temporary house rule: no one should go off on their own unless they have to."

Jimin raises a brow. "No one?"

"Ideally." You nod. "Which brings me to the next thing I wanted to talk about. When the Hybrid Services officers were here before, they were telling everyone there's a feral hybrid in the area. The entire neighbourhood is going to be on alert-- I don't know how kindly they'll take to finding any unregistered or, uh, stray hybrids if they run into either of you alone."

Nodding along, Hoseok rubs his chin with his thumb. "Makes sense."

"They know what the hybrid looks like, but we don't know how much they actually care about the picture. Who knows if they'd just nab any male hybrid off the street," you say. "It's probably best to play it safe; at least while we're still in the neighbourhood."

"What do you mean, 'still in the neighbourhood'?" Jimin asks, curious.

You smack your own forehead and ignore the way Hoseok immediately brings his hands up like you're going to knock yourself over any second now. "Right, uh... We're kind of..." Bringing up a hand, you gesture between yourself and Hoseok. "...prospective business owners? Is that--? No, we're, uh...starting up a motel? But, like, for hybrids?"

Hoseok is decidedly unhelpful with explaining what Heaven's Door is meant to be, staying silent and just making a face as you botch it.

"Anyway, it might be safer if we head out there sooner rather than later if the neighbourhood is getting paranoid over stray hybrids. It's outside of the city, and Hybrid Services doesn't do patrols out there. I was thinking to move once I'd figured more shit out, but I didn't think the whole 'feral hybrid' thing would happen today, and I definitely didn't foresee meeting you." Not that anything that's happened to you in the last few days could've been foreseen, either. You smile at Jimin. "But hey, at least you were a pleasant surprise."

"Didn't I threaten to kill you?."

You shrug. "I'm still here, aren't I?"

"And your guard dog attacked me."

"After you attacked her!" Hoseok argues.

Clicking his tongue, Jimin gives his head a nod. "Point taken."

"Anyhow," you continue on. "While you think about what you wanna do, I'd like you to come with us. Of course, you're free to refuse. I still have two-ish weeks of rent paid for this place, so you could stay here, but..." You share a look with Hoseok, then return your eyes to Jimin.

"...I'd be alone?" he finishes for you.

"I guess I'd just feel better if you're with us."

Jimin seems to absorb your words, but he stays silent for a few seconds. He tosses the last bite of the pastry into his mouth, chewing quietly and brushing his hands together to get rid of the leftover crumbs. He takes a breath. "I guess I sort of owe you for the food and the bed I slept in last night... The least I can do is make you feel better."

Your cheeks make way for a beaming smile.

"Just while I think about it."

You school yourself. "Right! Right," you say, clearing your throat of any enthusiasm that might've gotten clogged in there. "Just while you're thinking about it. Nothing's set in stone."

=

Either Hoseok calls shotgun outside of your hearing range, or Jimin silently sits in the backseat of your car out of some unfounded sense of regularity. He doesn't speak a word as you drive, just watches the world pass by through the side window. You can't really see him in the rear view mirror, and most of your focus is on the road, but there are a few moments where you catch his fingers scratching at his arms before he flexes his hands and stops. You're reminded of the red, bumpy skin you saw on his arms. Now, it's covered by his shirt and jacket, both of which you convinced him to let you wash before you all left your apartment.

"I don't think this is the right way..." Hoseok says, squinting at the street signs as you drive out of the inner city.

"Yeah, uh." You'd looked up the address to Silver Meadows before you left, and it's practically on the other side of the city as Heaven's Door. "There's somewhere I wanted to go first. You know how I left this morning?"

Hoseok nods.

"Well, it wasn't just to throw a tantrum, if that's what you were thinking."

"I thought maybe you were trying to get those Hybrid Services officers to think you were going somewhere, so they'd think no one was in your apartment," Hoseok says, making your eyebrows rise on your forehead.

"Wow, you're pretty intuitive, aren't you?" Your eyes dart to the backseat, but you can't see Jimin's face since he's sitting right behind you. "Were you guys able to hear that whole conversation in the hallway?"

Jimin scoffs, something sarcastic in the simple sound, while Hoseok nods again. "It's weird how even they don't know the species of the feral hybrid," he says. "Without that information, they'd go after any stray hybrid they encounter -- not that they weren't doing that already."

"But they might treat any stray like they're feral and dangerous," you finish the thought process for him, and when you meet his eyes, he sports a grim expression. You roll your shoulders back, sighing. "It's a good enough reason to stay on our toes, but hopefully we won't run into any trouble outside of my neighbourhood..."

And, hopefully, the feral hybrid doesn't get found by anyone less than civil. The cheerful face of that hybrid flashes across your mind, and you wonder about his circumstances. What makes a hybrid go feral, anyway? What made him run away from the hybrid clinic? How much of the information the officers gave you is a stretching of the truth?

"So where did you go?" Hoseok asks when you make another unfamiliar turn.

"Lee Minhyuk texted me -- he was Mr Jung's estate lawyer." You add that in to give Jimin some context, but you're not sure if he's even listening. "He forgot to give me the key for Mr Jung's niche."

Hoseok's brows furrow as he echoes you. "Niche?"

"It's what they call the individual sections in a columbarium," you explain, not too informed yourself, but you know enough. You take Hoseok's silence as him not filling the gaps quite yet. "Mr Jung's urn is being kept in one. Lot C, niche 258, at Silver Meadows Columbarium."

"Oh." Hoseok doesn't exactly slump in his seat, but you see the way his shoulders sag just the slightest. "He was cremated?"

You nod, eyes still on the road. "Yeah... I hadn't thought about it much. I'd assumed his family was dealing with all the..." Breathing out a long exhale through your nose, you try to think of the right words. (And come up with nothing.) "...well, that kind of stuff. But apparently I'm the only one with the key."

"Mr Jung never talked about any family..." Hoseok mumbles.

A road sign ahead reads Silver Meadows, and you slow down to turn into the lot.

"You're not bringing flowers?"

You turn your head at Jimin's sudden question, surprised since he was quiet the whole drive. He meets your eyes.

"You're visiting a grave, and you didn't bring flowers?" he asks, arms crossed.

"Oh." You look downward. "I hadn't thought about that..."

Jimin doesn't say anything, and you've run out of words yourself. Does it make sense to go back to buy some? You think about Mr Jung, and far above wanting to go get flowers for him now, you wish you could've brought him one back then. When he could see it.

You find a parking spot and switch off the engine.

"It's okay," Hoseok says before any of you exit the car. He's not looking at you, though. "We can bring flowers next time."

You watch him step out of the car, and as he does, he pulls his collar out of his pocket and fastens it around his neck, clasping the metal ends together before he shuts the car door behind him. Before you'd left the apartment, you told him to bring it, but you forgot about it during the drive.

"Oh, right. Jimin." You twist in your seat and reach into your bag, finding the red velvet choker you'd stuffed in there earlier. You've never really worn it since someone gave it to you however long ago, and you just hastily grabbed it from your room before you all left the apartment. You hold it out for him. "Wear this for now. It's not technically a collar, but... no one will be looking too closely. I hope."

Jimin frowns, but he takes the choker. "Can't I just stay in the car?"

You don't want to pressure him, but you can't help the grimace that crosses your face. "I feel safer together..."

"Fine," he huffs, bringing his hands up to fasten the choker. "You're lucky this is cute."

By the time you both catch up to Hoseok, he's already found the directions to lot C. He walks silently, and when he finds niche 258, you and Jimin hang a bit back, giving him a moment.

This section of the columbarium is indoors, and the walls and niches seem to be white marble, or made to look like white marble. Whichever it is, it feels a bit... cold.

Mr Jung's niche is empty, save for the black urn inside. Jimin was probably right -- some flowers would at least bring some life to the space.

Hoseok stands in front of the niche, which is embedded in the wall at around the height of his chest. His arms hang limp at his sides. You step up beside him, and you take his hand, gently, bringing it up so you can push the key into his palm.

"I think he meant to give this to you." And everything else, you want to say, but you hold your tongue. That's a lot to put on someone all at once.

You would know.

Hoseok holds his hand in front of him, staring at the key. He looks up at you and meets your eyes with his watery ones. "You think so?"

"Of course I do." You put a hand on Hoseok's shoulder, your thumb rubbing back and forth over his coat. "You said Mr Jung never talked about any family, right? That's because you were his family."

Sniffling, Hoseok bites his bottom lip to stop it from trembling as he breaks eye contact and returns to looking at Mr Jung's niche. "I... I wish he wasn't this far away. He made it so much harder to visit."

"Hey..." Gently, you use your hand on his shoulder to turn Hoseok toward you, then put both your hands on his arms and give him a reassuring squeeze. A tear threatens to roll down his cheek, but you reach up at thumb it away. "I know you probably knew Mr Jung better than I did, but... something in me thinks he'd want to say..." You turn your head to look at the niche, smile, and shake your head. "He's not in there." Bringing a hand up, you softly poke the pad of your pointer finger between Hoseok's eyebrows. "He's in here." You move to his chest and poke at where his heart should be. "And here." Finally, you take both his hands, a bit awkward with the one still holding the key, and hold them between you. "And that's what matters, right?"

Hoseok nods, but his face crumples up, and he tucks it into your neck. You wrap your arms around him just as his embrace you tight. Over his shoulder, you glance at Jimin, who quickly looks away, but you know he was watching. He stuffs his hands in his pockets, suddenly very interested in his worn out shoes.

"But we can still visit, right?" Hoseok mumbles into your skin, bringing your attention back to him.

"Of course. And next time, we'll bring flowers."

=

As you slide into one of the parking spots in front of Heaven's Door, it occurs to you that this is the first time you're seeing it in the daylight. All of its mediocre glory. The outer walls are a faded yellow, with supporting pillars and railings on the second floor landing which were once white. The doors to the individual rooms are a nice dark green that matches the roofing, but you have to admit they've seen better days. Still, you can feel the potential the old building blooms in your chest.

"Not too bad, hey?" you say to Jimin, who's leaning forward between the driver and passenger seats to peer out the windshield at the place.

He sniffs. "It's no Plaza Hotel."

"You've been?"

"No, I've seen Home Alone 2."

Chuckling, you pull your car key out of the ignition and exit the car. You put your hands on your hips, inhaling a big, exaggerated breath as you take in the motel. Hoseok walks over and stands next to you, arms crossed.

"Well," you say. "It might be a bit of a fixer-upper, but that's nothing a couple of fixer-uppers like us can't handle, right?" You bump your shoulder into Hoseok, who smiles at you and bumps back with his hip. You stumble a bit, but Jimin's hand on your back stops you from swaying too hard. When you take your eyes off your feet, he meets your eyes with a plain expression.

"You guys are disgustingly optimistic."

A hand on his shoulder, you grin. "You just named one of my best traits!"

=

The move into Heaven's Door is by no means smooth, but you can't say it's not something you expected.

The first thing you notice is the broken window in the convenience store under the motel lobby, which you'd missed that first night in the dark. Hoseok sheepishly admits that he'd had to break in to eat the snack food inside. You don't push it -- that void of time between losing Mr Jung and meeting you isn't a topic you think is worth diving into if it's going to bring Hoseok back to that time. The window won't be cheap, but if you don't put a custom decal on it like the shattered one on the ground, it might not be as expensive.

Secondly, Hoseok leads you and Jimin to the master room you remember Mr Jung mentioning in his letter, and you realize you'd only seen the motel from one side. Behind the lobby, which has a lot of that same forest green as the doors outside, Hoseok shows you the half of the building you had no idea about before. An entire branch extends behind the lobby, about the same length as the front, but instead of the entrances to each room facing outside like the ones you saw before, there are doors mirroring each other on both sides of a hallway. Immediately to the right is the master room, but at the end of the hallway seems to be a common area with couches and coffee tables, and two walls lined with a counter and cabinets. Hoseok tells you it's the same downstairs, except the end of the hall is a kitchen and dining area. It reminds you of a college dorm.

If anyone stayed in the rooms you saw out front, you don't think they'd even notice this half of the building.

The master room is smaller than your apartment, but it has its own half-kitchen and en suite bathroom with a pretty nice shower. Hoseok explains to you that most of Mr Jung's time and focus went into building and upgrading the interior of Heaven's Door, which is why it has its less than shiny exterior.

You can tell Hoseok was staying in the master room up until you... kidnapped(?) him.

"This is probably the nicest room in the motel, huh?" Jimin posits, walking inside with his hands in his pants pockets. He's wearing the clothes he met you in, now washed but no less worn down.

You nod. "Probably. We're a bit far from the city, so it would make sense for the owner to just live here."

"Dibs." Jimin flops down face first into the bed.

Hoseok crosses his arms. "Yah."

As you fail to hide your laughter behind your hand, Jimin squirms in the bed, twisting himself so he lies on his back. He stretches his arms and legs out like a sea star. "Smells too much like dog here, though."

While Hoseok sneers, you say, "Probably because this is Hoseok's room. You and I can take the rooms next door and across the hall."

"Why would I wanna be next door to you?" Jimin closes his eyes and interlocks is fingers behind his head, fully relaxing into the bed.

You let out an affronted scoff. Your hand goes up to your chest, right over your heart even though Jimin can't see it. "Um, my amazing company and charming personality?"

"Pass."

As you and Jimin go through this back-and-forth, you miss the way Hoseok's face fell when you said you'd be in a different room. His disheartened expression goes unnoticed, and when you stand up, proclaiming there's a lot of work to be done, he smiles at you with all the sunshine he can muster.

You're none the wiser.

=

Aside from the horrors (the mere idea of business management, the building maintenance, the absolute atrocity that is dealing with plumbing, the phone calls, etc, etc,) at least it's fun to print keys. Hoseok apparently never figured the system out because Mr Jung took care of getting it installed, but half an hour on the computer, and you manage to print a key for both yourself and Jimin. He chooses the room across from the master, while you're right next to it.

Hoseok insists on him and Jimin carrying all the food you'd brought inside, but to appease your need to take part, he lets you carry one item for each trip from your car to the common kitchen area. (You find this a little patronizing, but it is admittedly nice to be doted on by them both, even if Jimin's still pretending he doesn't care.)

((He takes a bag you were reaching for, despite already having both his hands full.))

Much of your things are still back at your apartment, but you have time to bring them over. The first day is mostly about getting Hoseok and Jimin out of dodge -- you can worry about your own problems later. You spend the afternoon sitting in the lobby, poring over the paperwork left there and googling motel business 4 dummies like your life depends on it. Hoseok, who'd been cleaning up his room and taking care of the broken glass outside (and inside, unfortunately) the convenience store, forces you to take a break in the form of helping him make dinner.

During dinner, unprompted, Jimin tells you he's still thinking.

It hasn't slipped by you, of course, that Jimin's stay with you is conditional and, lest you hope otherwise, temporary.

But when he says that, staring into his food rather than looking at you, a tiny smile makes it's way onto your face,

"Take all the time you need."

=

On the third night, you wake up to soft knocks on your door. You have no expectations because your brain is in the process of trying to dissect the dream you'd just been ripped out of, but seeing Hoseok on the other side of your door still isn't something you were prepared for. He's wearing the new, new pyjamas you'd bought for him in a sparse shopping trip you'd all gone on the second day, despite him saying he didn't care that much about Jimin wearing the other ones.

You go to say his name, but he just brings a finger up to his lips in a silent shush, and with his other hand, he gently takes your hand and leads you down the hall into the master room.

Nothing in your body wants to fight it, so you let him bring you right up to the bed. He practically pushes you onto it, but the way he pulls the warm comforter over you defies any ill intent. When he settles in on the other side of the bed, his breath puffs against your cheek. He hasn't really scented you since the day you met Jimin; you've been near each other almost constantly since, so there was really no reason to.

You remember him telling you it's about separation, but also not. He never did tell you more about it.

In your sleep-ridden haze, you shift to your side. Hoseok is on his side too, rather close, and his eyes are closed, but you know he can't have fallen asleep so fast. Gently, you bring a hand to the back of his head, careful, as always, not to touch his dingo ears. You pull him closer ever so slowly. If he resists at all, you'll let go.

Hoseok lets out a shaking breath. He wraps both arms around you and tugs you closer, his face pressing itself against your neck. Eyes still closed, he squeezes you close. It's warm.

That's right, you think.

He’s a strong little pup, but he hates being alone.

How did you manage to forget that?

=

If Jimin has anything to say about the fact that you've started to retire to the master room at the end of the day, he doesn't vocalize it. Hoseok never brings it up, either. He's hardly touchy during the daytime, keeping his hands to himself, especially in front of Jimin. Yet, when night comes, he pulls you to bed like he's done it his entire life and keeps his arms around you until you fall asleep and wake up to find him all tangled up in the sheets.

Jimin either hasn't noticed, or, as you suspect, he doesn't care.

He'll often say he's "still thinking about it". You're not quite sure how to respond to it every time, so now you just smile and nod, sometimes reminding him that the choice is still his.

One night, you find him in the common area, sitting on a couch and watching a muted cartoon on the tv you'd connected to your Netflix account the day before. The subtitles aren't even on, and when he turns at the sound of your footsteps, you see the red of his eyes, and the shining tracks on his cheeks.

There's still a lot you don't know about Jimin.

Rayoung. Her boyfriend. His red contacts and why he wore them.

"It's freezing in here," is all he says as he wipes his cheeks with his sleeve. "You should get the heating system checked."

You sit down next to him, neither of you looking at each other. "Feels normal to me."

The cartoon isn't one you recognize, but it looks like it could be fun if you knew what anyone was saying.

For a while, you and Jimin say nothing. He sits next to you, and you next to him. At some point, he shifts just the slightest bit closer so your shoulders brush against each other. That's as far as he goes for your body heat.

"Do you get cold easily?" you eventually whisper.

"Mhmm."

"Is that a snake thing?"

Jimin shakes his head, slowly, the late hour finally getting to him. "Some reptile hybrids are like that, some aren't. There aren't many of us, so people don't really know why. At least... that's what he told me."

He. You decide not to dig into that. Jimin will tell you if he wants to.

"Your scales... the skin around them seemed irritated."

"...Itchy..." Jimin's head falls to your shoulder. He doesn't snuggle in, but he rests there. "I had a cream for it..."

"We should buy some," you say.

"It's expensive... You shouldn't buy it if I'm going to leave soon..."

Though his words cause a muted ache in your heart, you don't stew on it. That was always the case.

"You can take it with you."

Jimin doesn't respond, asleep on your shoulder.

You're not sure how much time passes, but later, you hear light, shuffling footsteps behind you, and you turn your head towards the sound, careful not to jostle the slumbering Jimin on your shoulder. Hoseok stands there, eyes half closed but on you nonetheless.

"You left," he mumbles, swaying slightly like he's struggling to stay both awake and upright.

You give him a small smile, lit only by the tv that's still playing that cartoon you don't know the name of. "I didn't go very far."

"Come back to bed?"

Gently, you lift a hand and gesture at Jimin. "Can we bring him back to his, first?"

=

When you're sent the invoice for the window repair, you realize (not for the first time) this won't be easy.

You didn't think it'd be a walk in the park, of course not, but you've never really had to worry about the cost of running a business before. Now, you look at the numbers, and you just can't wrap your head around how it'll all work. Mr Jung left you a considerable amount, yes, but... will it be enough? You can't imagine the motel is in any high level of traffic area for travellers. There are quite a few campsites around in the surrounding forest, but that's about it. How many customers would it take monthly to support the motel? How much has to or even can be sacrificed before any income is made?

You've already spent so much on keeping you, Hoseok, and Jimin alive and warm for the past week. It's normal, you suppose, but you've never supported two dependants before, and the fact that you're currently unemployed doesn't settle the heavy feeling in your chest at all. You're draining your savings while not making any money in the meantime.

A safe haven for hybrids...

...who can't pay rent.

Maybe Mr Jung was older and more senile than you thought.

You shake your head and rub your hands over your face, resting your elbows on the desk in front of you. First, you gotta apologize to Mr Jung for disrespecting the dead. You might be cynical, but he had a dream. A really good and nice dream. Secondly, you scold yourself for thinking what you did about hybrids. Of course they can't pay rent. They were born into a system that actively discourages their financial (and pretty much every other kind of) autonomy. They can't pay for anything because of humans.

Still, you don't know how long you can keep running Heaven's Door on your inheritance alone. You haven't even opened yet -- how much will it cost to run for a month? Three? A year?

"Do the numbers change if you sigh hard enough?"

You turn in your swivel chair to glare at Jimin, who's sitting in the chair next to you with one leg folded up to his chest, foot propped up on the seat. He doesn't return your gaze, enraptured by the match-three game he's playing on your phone, which he's been going at rather consistently for the past two days. You don't really have a job for him right now, and aside from the tv, he doesn't have much to take up his time. You'd offered to grab the contents of your bookshelf back at home for him, but he'd casually refused, telling you he'd take a look next time you make the trip, but not to go out of your way.

"Maybe they will," you taunt back, which goes just as ignored as your glare. "I better sigh harder to test it out."

You tilt your head, looking at your phone in his hand. "Should I get you guys phones...?" you ask, mostly to yourself.

Jimin's eyes glance up, and he finally acknowledges you. He doesn't need to say it. He does anyway.

"I'm still thinking."

Curling your lips in, you nod, turning back to the computer and hovering your hands over the mouse and keyboard even though you have no plans on what to do with them. "Right. Right..."

Thankfully, Hoseok chooses that awkward moment to walk into the lobby. "You should take a break," he says. "How is your head feeling?"

"It's fine, doc." You roll your eyes, smiling. "Just as fine as I said it was yesterday."

"Have you been taking your meds?"

You shake your head. "The doctor said they're for headaches. They're just painkillers -- the few times my head has hurt, the pain went away by the time I remembered I could take them."

Jimin lowers your phone and gives you a look you can't quite decipher. It's not positive; you know that at least. "You're still getting headaches?"

"Only itty-bitty ones," you try to placate them.

"How long has it been since you fell?"

You almost forgot you lied to Jimin about how you got your concussion. By the looks of Hoseok's guilty expression, though, you're not sure if you regret it. You don't want him to feel responsible, but talking about it -- whether or not Jimin knows -- still seems to remind him of what he did. Where you put the blame doesn't matter to him. He still thinks it's his fault.

"Uhh... a little over a week?" you answer, keeping a careful eye on Hoseok. "Maybe eight or nine days."

Jimin frowns. "That can't be good, right?"

"The doctor said to go back to the hospital if the symptoms last over two weeks." Concern laced in his features, Hoseok crosses his arms.

You nod along. "I'll put the date on my calendar, okay? I'm sure I'll be fine by then."

"You better not play it down when the time comes," Hoseok warns.

"Yes sir," you joke.

Hoseok takes in a sharp breath, shoulders scrunching up for half a second before he forces them to relax. A small huff of a laugh escapes Jimin's nose, and you look at him in confusion, but his eyes are on Hoseok, something playful and teasing in them. Jimin mouths something to Hoseok, which you can't read.

Hoseok grumbles and tightens the arms crossed in front of him. "Shut up."

"No fair," you whine. "You guys already have inside jokes?"

Jimin just laughs harder while Hoseok gives him a death glare and says, "It doesn't count as an inside joke if I don't find it funny."

"Don't worry," Jimin teases through a smirk. "I find it funny enough for the both of us!"

You can't help but smile at the ever-growing amity between the two hybrids, which is admittedly playful in the biting way, but it still makes you happy that they're somewhat getting along.

=

"We should celebrate," you tell the boys one day.

"Celebrate what?" Jimin questions, hands stuffed in his coat pocket and shoulders scrunched up to his ears.

You'd gone around the back of the motel and found a paved, patio-like area, complete with five wooden picnic tables, propane patio heaters, and an old-looking but (probably) functional barbecue, but Jimin isn't exactly a fan of the cool breeze flowing through the air.

You lift the lid of the barbecue, examining the charred grates of the grill. "Well, I dunno, but it'd be a shame not to use this before it gets too cold out."

"Too late," Jimin mumbles. His lips are hidden behind the front of his coat, which he's ducked half his face into.

Hoseok ignores Jimin, nodding at your idea. "A barbecue night would be nice."

"How are you on the grill?" you ask him.

"I'm better at prepping."

You chuckle. "So basically, not good?"

"Not good," he echoes with a smile.

After sharing some giggles, you look at the barbecue again. "I'm sure I could figure this out."

"I'm going back inside," Jimin tells you both, already walking away.

"C'mon!" you call after him. "It'll be fun!"

=

Although you're in a different store now, near the edge of the city closer to the motel, the pet/hybrid aisle hosts a pretty similar collection to the store near your apartment. You pull another plain, black collar off the hook on the shelf, which matches the one currently sitting around Hoseok's neck.

He's not paying attention at all, as far as you know, instead hunched over the pushbar of the shopping cart he insisted on pushing for you, poring over the grocery list you'd written on a memo pad for tonight's "celebration".

In your mind, you've started calling it your "new friends party :D", emoticon included, but you haven't worded that out loud to either of the boys. Hoseok would surely laugh at the childishness of the name, even if he'd politely try to stifle it, and you know Jimin would only remind you that his relationship to you and Hoseok is temporary.

Mood killer, you think to Jimin, although it's the hypothetical version of him.

The real Jimin is looking at the array of collars on the shelf like you asked him to, and you step up next to him.

"What do you think?"

Jimin frowns, deep in thought. "They're all ugly."

Okay, maybe not that deep.

"Ouch," you chuckle, fingers toying with the black silk in your hand. "You don't have to wear one all the time -- just while we're in public spaces like this."

Grumbling, Jimin stuffs both his hands in his coat pockets. "In public... that's when I wanna look good."

"Okay, okay." You pat a hand on his shoulder. "Maybe we can find one you like online, or something."

"Doesn't this one work?" Jimin points at his neck, fingers ghosting over the soft velvet of your red choker.

You tilt your head. "I guess... Probably."

The tags for collars have to be bought and customized separately anyway. There's no reason why you wouldn't be able to put Jimin's on your choker, though attaching the tag might not be as simple as the store-bought collars. Manageable, though, you're sure.

"If you're done being picky, we should get going. The frozen meat will be rotten by the time we get to the car," Hoseok says, making Jimin roll his eyes and stick his tongue out at him.

You clap your hands together. "Ooh! We should get ice cream!"

When you bring all the groceries to the counter, you notice that Jimin keeps his head down, avoiding the eyes of the person ringing everything up. This isn't new -- Jimin seems to not like making eye contact with anyone but you or Hoseok.

He'd tossed the red contacts after one of them had an intimate meet and greet with your bedroom floor, but you can tell he doesn't like being without them. It's awful, you think, how long he wore those fake red eyes just because his owner... what, enjoyed the idea of owning a deadly hybrid?

The... exoticism?

You shiver.

On the cusp of winter time, with Jimin in a couple layers, you wouldn't even know he's a hybrid if you weren't paying attention. As far as you know, his only hybrid-defining trait is his scales, and the only ones you can see right now are on his neck. They'd easily go unnoticed to the everyday passerby.

"Your total is--"

The cashier's voice startles you, and all you can do is shake your head when they ask if you have their points reward card.

Before heading back to the motel, you make a quick stop at your apartment, telling the boys that you're just grabbing some more of your clothes and that they can wait in the car. You do grab some clothes, but you also pick up a few of your favourite books. Hopefully the boys will be able to find some entertainment in them. Recently, you discovered a recreation room in the motel, complete with a couple of exercise machines and a pool table. With how preoccupied you are with all this motel business stuff, though, you haven't had the time to play a round of pool or even think about exercising. Maybe the boys have been in there, but it seems like Hoseok is almost always somewhere around you, still weary of your condition.

It's sort of fair, you think. Dizzy spells still hit you sometimes.

Jimin, too, often sticks around somewhere nearby. Maybe it's because he likes scrolling through your phone and doesn't want to just take it and leave whatever room you're in.

Which brings you to the real reason you stopped by your apartment. You walk up to the mailboxes and pull out your key, smiling when you open your locker and find the packages you were expecting.

It's a bit of a pricey expense -- at least, for how you used to budget your life before it flipped on its head -- but you think it's worth the money. A simple phone for each of the boys, a new family plan to save on the phone bills, and a specialty reptilian hybrid eczema cream. You hope it's the right one for Jimin. You haven't seen his irritated skin since that shower due to the chilly weather, but you still catch him scratching his arms over his clothes from time to time.

You're sure if you told Jimin you wanted to buy the cream for him, he would've refused. The phone, too.

"Took you long enough," Jimin says when you dip back into the driver's seat of your car.

You chuckle. "I missed you too, Mochi."

He huffs at the nickname and crosses his arms, then turns his head to stare out the window. You don't see his faint smile.

=

"It's freezing," Jimin complains through chattering teeth, hands stuffed in his coat pockets and shoulders scrunched up practically to his ears.

You can't hold back a little laugh. "I told you, you could either help me out here with the grill, help Hoseok with prepping everything inside, or run the raw food from the kitchen to out here." Raising an eyebrow at him, you gesture towards your gloved hands and the food you're flipping on the grill with metal tongs. It is chilly out, especially since the sun set, but you're wrapped up in your own jacket, and the fire from the grill is keeping your cheeks warm. It probably feels colder to Jimin, though. "You wanna trade with me?"

He gives you a flat look. "You're kidding."

"Thought so. You wanna trade with Hoseok?"

Cringing, Jimin shakes his head. "I hate touching raw meat."

"Well, there's our answer then," you say. "Was that the last of it?"

He nods, another shiver rippling through him. It's almost endearing how red his cheeks are turning, but you know he really can't stand the cold.

"Okay, go inside and warm up. I should be done cooking everything in ten or fifteen minutes. Bring this plate in--" You point at a foil-wrapped plate of the food you've already cooked. "I can bring the rest inside once I'm finished."

Jimin's eyes widen slightly. "I thought you wanted to eat out here?" He looks at one of the picnic tables.

"Nah." You shrug. "It's way too cold for me, and the food will cool down too fast."

Elated by this news, Jimin smiles and bounces on his feet when he grabs the plate and runs it inside.

"And help Hoseok clean up the kitchen!" you yell out right before the door shuts behind him.

Truthfully, you did want to eat outside for the celebration, but it's more important to you that Jimin is comfortable and happy. After all, he's one of your new friends, and that's the whole point of tonight. You smile at the thought, excited to gift the boys their new cell phones after dinner.

Flipping some of the last pieces of meat on the grill, you hum to yourself. Out of the corner of your eye, you see a hand reach for the plate you have set to the side for the cooked food. It tentatively grabs one of the slices of meat and pulls it off the plate, which you let out a chuckle at.

"What, you couldn't wait a couple more minute--"

You choke to a stop, though, when you look up and see neither Hoseok nor Jimin.

Dark eyes meet yours for less than a moment before swiftly turning downward. The man stumbles back a step, but he freezes in almost the same way you do. Except, instead of his jaw dropping open like yours does, he pauses mid-chew, the frisked meat still in between his teeth.

That's not what makes your breath hitch, though.

Even under the blackened sky, you can see the bruises.

A dark, deep purple sits boldly under is left eye, the surrounding skin a sickening blend of yellow and green that winds up all the way to his brow. His chin sports another bruise in a similar state, like the blows had been a couple days ago and the skin has gone through only the first stages of healing. Although his face is grimy with sweat and dirt, you can see crusted blood just at his hairline before his black hair hides anything else. You can tell his lip was completely busted at some point, marred with dark, dried blood that's been split over and over again and given no chance to heal.

Even his stance looks like he's in pain. Like he's trying to make himself look smaller.

You swallow the shock down, the words not coming out. "I..."

He snaps out of it at the sound of your voice. Both of his hands shoot up, palms flat and facing you. "Sorry-- I'm sorry," he mumbles and winces, like it hurts to speak. His voice is scratchy and rasping.

He backs up further while you try to find something to say, something to do, but before you can do anything, he runs off the patio and disappears into the treeline, a clear limp in his movement.

"Wait!" you call out, but he's gone.

Maybe it was the injuries that made you want to go after him. Maybe it was the way he held himself, like he didn't want to be in his own body. Maybe it was the way his voice trembled, or the fact that he definitely wasn't wearing enough for the temperature outside.

Maybe it was all that combined, but most of all, it was the pointed black ears you saw on top of his head.

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