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sugarwithtea · 1 year

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kissing under the mistletoe | jjk

pairing : coworker!jungkook x reader

rating/genre : pg-15 // fluff, angst, frenemies to lovers, coworker au

summary : 'tis the season to be jolly, but one certain doe-eyed person is hell bent on not letting you have anything jolly. wait till you find out how you are the only one he wants. alternatively : jungkook, your ass coworker (with a great ass)likes to annoy you so you can give him some of your time.

word count : 13.9k

warnings : swearing, like 2 pov switches? but reader is always in second person so yes, one flashback scene, mentions of the passing of a grandparent, beginnings of a panic attack, nyctophobia, kissing. not too christmasy tbh, cuz i know nothing about how christmas parties work! also yoongi plays two roles -- the asshole and the wingman, so everyone say thankyou yoongi!!

note 1 : this gift was created through @bangtansecretsanta and is for @apotatomashedbybts !! surprise, i am your secret santa! you already know it from the preview i posted but still haha! i hope u like this small lil thing i came up with!

note 2 : a big thanks to @oddinary4bts for beta-ing this! thanks for saving my ass ella!! i am sorry for putting you through the struggle of editting my word vomit haha! thankyou sm!! also, merry christmas! i am a whole decade late yes! -- also, please reblog if you read/like this!

read on ao3

what was i listening to? (a bollywood playlist)

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You could kiss the person who made coffee for the first time on their mouth – dead or alive.

Walking out in the morning sun is a hellish task you have to do every morning, especially when it only leads you to entering your work building with a scowl and squinted eyes.

The only sight which makes your mornings pleasant is the lounged form of a certain Min Yoongi, right in front of your desk, eyes lazily raking over his surroundings – as if he'd be out the first chance he gets.

To be honest, you would too.

Especially when a guy who has sworn his job is to make your life hell strides in front of you, blocking your magnificent view of the one and only Min Yoongi, and smiles brightly at you – as if he is the only light source in the room.

"Hey." Jungkook perks up and you scowl at him. A way of you greeting him. Which he knows too well because the next second he rolls his eyes and turns back, leaning against your desk, now also staring at Min Yoongi.

"What do you want, Jeon?"

"What do you think he is thinking about?" his eyes squint more as he observes Yoongi more attentively.

"How there are people who have nothing better to do except think about other people's thoughts?" You should praise yourself for speaking a whole sentence before completing your cup of coffee.

"Cute. But that's my job." He whips his head back and looks down at you with a lazy grin, an eyebrow cocked and piercings glinting in the light.

Oh how you'd like to kiss that grin off his face.

Wait, no.

You shake your head.

"You are a graphic designer."

He tsks, "That's part time."

You roll your eyes and get back to setting up your desk for the day. If you knew Jungkook (which you do by now), he isn't going to move from here unless he is satisfied that your day had a hellish start. Well, jokes on him, cause your morning was hell even before you met him.

"What do you even find that interesting in him?"

Sigh. He is still staring at Min Yoongi.

"He is a treat for my sore eyes."

He perks up at your answer and turns fully towards you, leaning over your desk so his face is closer to yours, with an excited grin and a gleam in his eyes. A gleam which tells you his next question even before he opens his mouth-

"And me?"

"You are the cause of my sore eyes", you say with a sickly sweet smile that makes his smile drop.

The next time you run into Jungkook, it's during lunch break.

"Did you hear about the party?" your coworker Mina asks you as you both settle down on a table in the far corner of the cafeteria.

"What party?"

"The Christmas party, Y/N. I heard this time they are gonna hang more mistletoes than necessary", she snickers and you groan as you take a big bite of your sandwich.

"I don- weawy wanna see em soggin", you say through a full mouth and furrow your eyebrows as the chair beside you scrapes on the tile.

"Where are your manners, you little girl?" Jungkook teases as he settles down beside you.

You gulp your bite as quickly as you can.

"And where is your decency, you idiot?"

"I need to be decent to talk to you?" he asks as he shoves a spoonful of fried rice in his mouth, not looking at you.

"That too. And also, you need to ask me before you sit down at my table."

"Mina said yes." You look at her to see her smiling at both of you, like your mother would if you told her you were going to finally marry someone good.

Fucking traitor.

You play around with your food as Mina and Jungkook converse rather dramatically, with his hand repeatedly coming in front of your face as you hit it away. It's not that you hate him – you just cannot stand him.

The first day you walked into the office, he was there to greet you with a bunny smile and a cutting jawline. God, the contrast in his looks. He was donning a simple button down and slacks, rather decent for work. But what was not decent, was the way his thighs filled the slacks and made it look like he was sculpted by a god. You had to clamp your mouth shut to stop yourself from spewing indecencies when you roved your eyes over his figure.

His eyes were crinkling around the edges as he smiled at you and welcomed you with a warm, airy voice. You were, of course, glad to have been shown to your desk and around the office space by him. And your smile was giddy like a teenager's when he asked you to join him for lunch break at the end of the week.

But after that week started an endless saga of constant bickering and pulling each other's legs. Your little crush on him was soon forgotten by you as your daily smile was replaced by an etching scowl.

It was quick for you to find out how competitive he is, and how strongly he stands his ground – how fucking opinionated he is about matters concerning the office. Almost all your meetings end with him looking at you with a twinkle in his eyes at having convinced your boss to do his bidding.

Never has he once said anything malicious to you, but you are fed up with him having his way. So much so that when last month he didn't oppose your ideas in the conference room, you walked up to him and asked if he was drunk or feeling sick. He had just rolled his eyes and went about with his day, but after that you had warmed up to him a little bit.

Still, he never fails to show you how annoying he can be – just like he is being right now.

"What? Are you thinking about going with me?" his voice breaks you out of your reverie.

"Hmm. With Min." Oh how you love to see the way his smile turns sour. It doesn't fall though.

"I heard he is single this year." Mina hums out.

That's when his smile threatens to fall, but Jeon Jungkook has mastered the game of schooling his expressions into neutrality.

"Interesting", he says and turns away from you.

Your eyes twinkle with mischief as Mina recounts the tale of Min Yoongi's infamous breakup – how his latest partner walked into the office on a damned Friday and gently, but dramatically broke up with him. Yoongi had seemed unaffected because of course that's him and almost everyone who knows him knew that he was not looking for anything serious.

Still, he had felt a little embarrassed. So much for not getting people's attention. But the way his eyes had swept across the room after she had left made everyone cower back to their work, as they held a clear message – 'I dare you to talk about this anytime soon.'

No one had been stupid enough to go against him, not even Jungkook, who had been away that fateful day, nearly a month ago. So now, Mina is filling him up on the details in hushed whispers.

"Lord!" he exclaims once she ends her retelling of the legend – at least the latest gossip for your department.

"You think you'll be able to woo him? Miss 'treat for my eyes'?"

"Sore eyes", you correct him and he grimaces as you continue, "And watch me, Jeon. Don't cry when he asks me out to be his date for the party."

Min Yoongi didn't ask you out for the party.

You had to beg him to be his date.

One can say that you and him are on friendly terms. The 'I am your friend only if you buy me coffee for a week' kind of friendly. He agreed to be your date at the party after you bribed him, of course. But not before he analyzed and heard each and every angle of your reason.

Now the thing is, Min Yoongi can be an asshole if he wants.

And when he heard that your main motive is to spite a man who has been annoying you, he agreed without hesitation. He loves to rile people up, especially men who fall in the same spectrum as his – assholes.

He doesn't personally know Jungkook, but he heard your version of the story. And his reply was,"I sympathize with the man," as you flicked his forehead and swiped his coffee away from him. But one thing he knows,: for you, Jeon Jungkook is an asshole. And oh how he'd love to see drama and some shit go down at the ever so boring Christmas party. So, he agreed.

"He- What?" Mina gasps as you peel open a banana in the break room.

"Yup." Her eyes can't be bigger than this.

"He asked you out?"

"Uh huh."

"Ha. I don't fucking believe you." She points her unpeeled banana towards you and scoffs.

You roll your eyes,"Ask him then."

Telling her that is a mistake because as soon as you both walk out of the break room after finishing your snack, her eyes fall on Yoongi lounging at his desk (8 meters away) and she calls out his name – gathering the attention of every living being in the room, even Jungkook.

Oh how you want to yeet yourself out of the first window you see. Maybe the 12 floor fall will be more bearable than the embarrassment this lady is going to cause you.

"You are going to the Christmas party with…" she trails off.

Yoongi's eyes flicker to hers lazily, as if she is asking him if he works here or not. And maybe, talking is a big task for him because he just nods his head in your direction. Basically informing everyone and their mother that he is going with you, and then he turns back to his computer – without saying your name.

You wouldn't be surprised if he might have forgotten it.

As soon as everyone registers his gesture, audible gasps sound throughout the room, and you turn in time to see Jungkook standing at his desk with his eyes as wide as saucers and jaw almost touching the ground.

You give him a triumphant smirk and turn around to go to your desk.

And totally miss the way he crumples the small pink note in his hand and throws it in the trash.

The coffee shop where you usually get your morning coffee is closed today. The office coffee machine is broken today.

And you are a second away from unleashing your rage on everyone.

As you return to your desk from the break room, you catch Jungkook lurking around your desk, nervously biting his lip and glancing towards the door. God, if he is again here to bother you as he does every morning, you are going to punch a bitch in the face. Because ain't no way you have the patience you always have.

"Jungkook", you sigh as you reach your desk.

"Before you say anything, I just want to say I am sorry", he interrupts you and stands straighter.

"For what?"

"Aaaaand have a good day", he ignores your question and immediately darts away, as if you are the plague and he has to avoid you.

And did he just wish you a good day? Weird.

What's more weird though is the cup of coffee sitting at your desk.

Beside your computer sits a steaming cup of coffee, with the letters 'JK' written on it. Did he forget his coffee at your desk? Is this another bitter – pun intended – reminder that you haven't yet had your coffee? Because you didn't need one.

You pick up the cup to head back to his desk when you see a small note previously hidden by the cup. It is a white slip of paper, torn haphazardly. You would have mistook it for some stray paper had you not seen the ink gracing the white.

'The coffee shop was closed and someone broke the machine. Have a good day - JK :-)

p.s. I am sorry if I messed up your coffee.'

Oh. Uh Oh.

He bought coffee for you? He went out of his way to bring a cup for you? He kept it in mind that your day was ought to be shitty if you didn't have a cup of coffee and he tried to resolve it? And this was what he was sorry for?

You can't even think straight at this moment. You take your seat and eye the cup of coffee as if it asked you for your first born. Your mortal enemy, the bane of your existence – well that would be too much – brought you coffee. Maybe this is not something to mull over for this long, but that's you. And if Jungkook's part time job is thinking about other people's thoughts, then yours is thinking about yours – overthinking.

The only good thing he has ever done for you is holding the door open a few times. And you nodded at him with a smile then, setting aside your differences for a mere moment.

Now how are you meant to be a bitch to him if he acts like this? Suddenly the sweet coworker.

You mindlessly take a sip and your mind calms down a little bit, but still racing. He hasn't messed up your coffee. It is the perfect cup of Americano with one sugar, no more, no less. Fuck. He knows this too? You don't know his coffee order. Great. Now you feel sad for not having that trivial piece of information.

On the other hand your heart gets a little soft for him. Even though in a way, it always was. Or else you wouldn't have tolerated a person this long. Somewhere along the way, you have grown fond of the bickering between the two of you, the words passed in pure frustration. You have grown fond of him. God, how embarrassing. But maybe you can live with it.

You need to thank him the first chance you get. And try to be civil with him.

"He has a girlfriend? Since when?"

"I don't know. I think she is more of a friend accompanying him to the party." Mina says and rolls her eyes as you walk beside her on your way back to your car.

The whole day has flown by in a breeze and this time, you didn't get the chance to cross paths with Jungkook. You wanted to thank him for what he did in the morning, but the one time you willingly want to see him, he is out of sight.

"How would you know that? Maybe she is his girlfriend. I mean he did leave in a haste today when a girl called him."

"She could be anyone," she argues and you shake your head with a laugh.

"How can you be so sure of that?"

"Cause just a day ago he said-" she stops and unlocks her car, even though she didn't need to stop.

"He said what?"

Mina doesn't look at you while answering, shaking her head a little with a voice lower than before.

"That he is single, Y/N."

Huh. That doesn't mean he doesn't have a girlfriend now. A lot can happen in a day, you know that – especially now. But you don't say that to her as she is already getting inside her car, bidding you goodbye and sending you off.

You don't pay any mind to her and get into your car, already heading home.

Your mind races faster than air as you grip the wheel tighter. You don't even know why you are so bothered that Jungkook might have a girlfriend. He has always had some kind of flings going on, but for him to bring someone to an office party? That's a first. If he is bringing someone then maybe they are important for him, maybe it's serious with them.

Your stomach drops as you realize that maybe he lied to Mina about his relationship status because he wanted to give everyone a surprise? After all, it's been a long time since Jeon Jungkook had a serious girlfriend.

You really hope that's not the case. And you don't know why you hope so? Why the fuck do you care if Jungkook has a partner or not? You want to smash your head against the steering wheel with the amount of thoughts that plague your mind.

'Is she even his real girlfriend? Or he just wants to flaunt the fact that he can get anyone he wants?'

Now why did you think that? And what's with you accepting the fact that he can get anyone he wants? Well, he can. But, why would you think that?

You feel like you're being double-sided given that you are going to the party with someone. But that's not to make him jealous. It's to annoy him, because he thinks Min Yoongi is out of your league. Then why do you think that Jungkook is doing this to come back at you? Insane of you to even speculate something so ridiculous.

You shake your head as you pull into the parking lot of your apartment.

You feel like you are obsessed with him – which you are not. You are just thinking about general things like why would he have a partner, possibly in a serious relationship – in the same way one thinks about things like today's weather, right? Yes absolutely.

Way to gaslight yourself.

Has anyone ever said that normally when you think about something a lot, you start seeing it everywhere? Or like, the first thing you see in the morning?

Because why, as you are entering the lobby of your office building on a fresh Monday after the coffee fiasco, are you seeing Jungkook beside the elevator? He normally comes in way earlier than this. What did you do to deserve meeting him first thing in the morning?

As you near him, you realize he looks a bit tired. His eyes are sullen, with dark bags underneath them, his shoulders drooping and hair frayed over his forehead, looking very unkempt.

Your footsteps catch his attention and he whips his head towards you, surprisingly managing a weak smile and you immediately return the gesture, not thinking for a second. You nod at him, wordlessly, and stand beside him, waiting for the elevator to come from God knows what floor.

Okay. This feels like a perfect time to thank him. He could work with an ego boost, as you are in no way going to ask him why he is down – not sending any snarky greetings, or stupid questions your way. Kind of weird for the both of you to stand there in complete silence.

"Jungkook", you call out and he slowly turns his head towards you, answering with a hum.

"Thank you for the coffee that day." He smiles at this and you internally chide yourself.

"Ah. Did I get the order correct?"

"Yes. Yes you did. I wanted to thank you the same day but you left quite early so … " you trail off as he almost drops his smile, trying hard to keep the curve of his lips intact and in his cheeks, rather than dropping them. You can very well see the struggle he has to go through to stay cool and composed.

"Yeah. It was an emergency."

Oh.

So it was not some girlfriend of his? Why did you think so? Oh my god. And, it was an emergency. Shit. You mentally slap yourself for even trying to play the whole thing off very lightly.

The lift arrives that very moment and you both step inside, him sulking again.

"If you don't mind me asking, is everything okay?"

He looks at you, trying to come up with an answer, finally settling to go with the truth.

"Not really, I mean. My grandmother passed away."

You take in a sharp breath and that's exactly when the door closes. Oh. My. God. Y/N you absolute fucking idiot. You could bang your head against the wall for your stupidity and absolutely wrong judgment.

"I am so sorry. I-" you pause and he looks at you," I won't say I understand, cause I don't. But I hope you are okay?" Stupid of you to end your assurance like this. Didn't he just now say that everything is not okay?

He looks at you, speechless but with a gracious smile. You should do some damage repair over here. Of course, as you said, you don't understand the pain of losing a grandparent because you have never even met yours, already passed away before your birth. But, you know it can be very painful. And given Jungkook's current state, your heart aches to stand there doing nothing while he struggles to not break down.

"Can, can I hug you?" you ask meekly and he suddenly whips his head towards you, so you rush to explain yourself, "I am not good with words but I … " you trail off and look down, biting the inside of your cheek nervously.

Nuh huh. Not a good idea. Even if he is in grave misery, why would he hug you? Who are you, his friend? Ha, as if. Maybe you should take the offer back and not embarrass yourself further. Yes, that could work.

You look up to tell him it's okay but what happens next makes you go completely stiff.

He hugs you.

His warmth envelopes you as he slowly wraps his arms around your shoulders, pulling you in – albeit hesitantly, but still. Your hands fall limp by your side as your head finds solace on his chest. Remembering that you were the one who proposed a hug, and completely ignoring the feeling arising in your stomach, you wrap your hands around his torso, patting his back.

As soon as you reciprocate his touch, he audibly sighs and places his cheek on your head, holding you tighter. It's as if his grief evaporates a bit, the warmth from you forming a case around him. You think you hear him smile, but then again, you cannot hear a smile.

You stop patting his back and hold him tight, snuggling into his chest unintentionally. He holds your head to his heart and you can hear it beat wildly fast – maybe yours is in the same state. But you're glad he can't hear yours.

'Don't let yourself slip, Y/N.' you think because this is uncharted territory. With his body pressed up against yours and his sadness seeping into you, you don't know how you feel anymore. Is this you melting for him? Yes, you won't lie to yourself anymore. It's high time now. Especially with the way he fits into you, so perfectly – like a jigsaw piece fitting into the tiniest crevices of a puzzle. It's ridiculous how you came to this.

A small thank you is mumbled into your hair and you think he sniffs your hair before you both part, slowly, longingly. He stares into your eyes with hints of tears lining his eyes and your heart breaks a little. But when he smiles with all his will and shine, you think maybe you can look at it every second of your life.

The elevator dings and the door opens as you hastily pull apart from him, patting your hair and wringing your fingers through the unkempt strands. You had forgotten that you were in an elevator. That's when you realize that you might have hugged for what, like a few seconds? But the moment felt like it was stretched for minutes and hours of comfort.

Both of you step out of the elevator and walk side by side, albeit at a distance, and silently to your desks. Why can't you calm the fuck down? It was just a hug. And he just happened to be a bit vulnerable. God. Not a good sign for your feelings.

You are still disheveled by the time you reach your desk. To your surprise, he stops there for a moment longer than you might have expected, and looks at you with a small, soft, knowing smile.

"Thank you." he says quietly.

You chuckle.

"You already said that."

"I know, but still. Thank you, for everything." He nods, smiles and disappears in a flash, not even waiting for your reply.

What does he mean by everything?

Wow. Now you have one more thing to overthink about.

The day is slowly bleeding into night, the moon already visible as you make your way to the cab, pulling your coat tight against your shivering body. The cold is terrible, and more so is your mood.

You aren't exactly looking forward to the Christmas party, now knowing that Jungkook is bringing someone. Also, your main motive to go with Min Yoongi was to rile Jungkook up. But now, you don't necessarily want to annoy him – especially after the small moment you had a few days ago in the elevator. You have had a lot of time to think since then, and you know what you feel. You aren't going to lie to yourself anymore. It isn't as if you are going with Yoongi for your personal desires. Well, not anymore.

Of course, you are a little bit attracted to Min Yoongi. But that is just to give your eyes some sort of relief during the stressful work hours. He is like an insignificant celebrity crush. And, you know he is a bigger asshole than you and Jungkook combined.

So now, you are miserably waiting for him below your office building, after your cab drops you off. Usually, he is always on time. But also, he doesn't usually go to parties with you. For all you know he must be stalling to make you wait for him – just because he can.

A moment later, a cab pulls up right beside you and out steps the man you want to strangle with your bitter cold hands which could spear icicles through his throat. Also, how can he look so much better than you? Wearing a monochrome shirt tucked into black slacks, with hair parted in the middle and.. Did he dye them blonde? Yes. Oh god, he did. Why does he look so good that it makes you wanna kill him more?

"Where the fuck were you?"

"Taking my sweet time getting ready for you, sweetheart." You gag at this and quickly step inside the lobby, making a beeline for the elevator, which fortunately, you don't have to wait for. Now that you think about it, you could've waited for this asshole inside the lobby. Huh. Whatever.

You almost let the door close on him but he wiggles his way inside with a grunt. Jesus.

"We are meant to be each other's date for tonight", he reminds you.

"Unfortunately. But I know that."

At this he raises an eyebrow and looks at you.

"You were the one who begged me to go with you. Don't act all snippy now."

He is right. Your mood is bad, but that doesn't mean you can act like a complete dick. He hasn't done anything to annoy you, yet.

"Sorry."

Thankfully he doesn't reply back, sensing your snarky mood and just nods at your weak ass apology.

The elevator opens to a complete ruckus. There are people bustling around the hallway leading up to the glass doors behind which there is more chaos. The top floor of your office building is luxurious and pristinely decorated, with high ceilings and sleek marble flooring. The party's decorations are subtle, with a christmas tree and multiple lights. But one thing that catches everyone's eye is the unusual amount of mistletoes.

They are literally everywhere. At the entrance, hanging on a string of fairy lights over the open bar, propped over the dance floor, in the hallway leading to the restrooms. Everywhere. There might be more but your vision is not so keen on finding them.

You walk with Yoongi by your side, none of you touching the other (why would you?) when you spot Mina at the bar. Of course. Whenever you need her, she'll be getting absolutely wasted. You walk up to her, Yoongi surprisingly keeping up with you and you call her out.

"Hey. You came alone?" She has a partner and they have been together for more than two years. They have attended almost all parties together but today she is alone, drinking her time away.

"Cyan has gone to their parent's house. It's been a while since they visited," You smile at that. It's true. They have been around for almost everything. You are glad they finally get to visit their family this holiday,"But that means that I feel so fucking alone right now." Mina completes with a whine and gulps her drink down.

You coo at that and stand behind her, draping your arms around her shoulder and bringing her near you.

"Don't worry. You have us to give you company." You say and look at Yoongi hopefully who just grunts as a response.

"I mean, you have me, at least."

She laughs and shakes her head.

"I don't expect anyone, Y/N. Go and enjoy. If you need me sometime, you'll find me getting shitfaced over here."

"Enjoy with who? Yoongi?" You laugh and stand back, rolling your eyes. You have only one friend at your workplace. And she wants to drown in her misery with whiskey. A concerning amount of whiskey. She flags the bartender to get another drink and you try to ask her to cut it down a little when Yoongi moves way too close to you.

His hand slides around your waist and he pulls you in a little. You gasp and look at Mina who is not paying attention and then hit his arm lightly.

"What are you doing?" You whisper, yell at him and he grins.

"You know, I like annoying people."

"Tell me something I don't already know. And don't try to annoy me." He moves you a little away from the bar and near the dance floor, still holding onto you.

"Hmm. Not you." He hums out and you furrow your eyebrows questioningly. At that he rolls his eyes and dips his head to your ear as you go completely still. "3 o'clock to your left. Don't look directly."

You do look directly. And see Jungkook at the far end leaning against the wall with his jaw clenched, hands in his pocket, and looking directly at you. Your breath hitches a little at his sight. You quickly move your head to Yoongi again and look at him, absolutely enjoying your state.

"I'm loving how Jeon is absolutely burning right now." He grins and you have the urge to strangle him right then and there.

"Also," He begins and pulls you closer, simultaneously leading you both a little more towards the dance floor,"did you notice that we both are matching? Coincidentally of course."

You widen your eyes in realization. Why is your luck like this? Of all people, you match with Min fucking Yoongi. Mindlessly your eyes go down to your outfit, a black fitted dress that goes to your ankles with a white strap running across your waist, and a sweetheart neckline, you realize he is right. Your monochromatic dress matches with his outfit. Ugh.

On the other hand, Jungkook is wearing a khaki leather shirt and black fitted slacks which accentuate his … everything. His hair is swept back showing his forehead and his piercings just add to the appeal, gleaming under the Christmas lights. You can climb him like a tree.

You don't look at him again though. His look is very much imprinted in your mind. Yoongi, that fucker, grins again at your miserable state and you hate that he loves this so much.

"He is jealous, oh my god." You don't pay any mind to him and sway a little to the music. Because there's no way Jungkook is jealous. Now that you think about it, why is he alone? Hasn't Mina said that he was going to come with someone else?

"He is … alone?" You mumble distractedly and Yoongi rolls his eyes.

"Are you going to ask everyone the same question?" He says referring to the question you asked Mina.

"No. I mean, he was going to come with someone."

"But he hasn't." Yoongi says slowly as he takes your hand and twirls you in a circle, dancing along with you.

To anyone who is watching you two, it might seem that you are engaging in a slow peaceful dance, and conversing with grins decorating your face. Because even in your confused state, your face reflects a hint of mirth, and Yoongi is already sporting a lopsided grin.

But it's not the truth. It's basically your mind racing a million miles an hour and Yoongi teasing you to his heart's content. The whispers between you two can easily fool anyone, even Mina who you see staring at you like a bee stung her. It is comical, the look on her face. You'll have to explain the whole mess to her later. Cause why are you dancing with Min Yoongi so lovingly? As if he hung the stars in your sky.

He raises his eyebrows at you and tips his head towards the dance floor, finally. You were wondering how long it would take for him to ask you there. You roll your eyes and he tugs you to the elevated center, just when the song switches to a slow, piano version of 'All I Want For Christmas Is You'. Oh what perfect timing.

"So, you heard me?" He asks when you place your arms around his neck, and sway with him slowly.

"I did. I am just thinking." He gasps at this.

"Since when?" And you hit his arm, mumbling a word your mom wouldn't be too glad hearing you speak – even if you are a 26 year old woman.

"In all honesty, though. He is a goner for you." He shakes his head as if it is as obvious as day.

"What?"

"Are you fucking blind? He is in love with you. No no, he has been in love with you, for so fucking long." He laughs and twirls you again.

"Yoongi, don't." You warn him. What the actual fuck?

"I know we are not friends. But I know a lovesick guy when I see one. And Jeon is just that." You furrow your eyebrows at that, and mindlessly, your eyes flit to the form of Jungkook completely seething at the opposite wall. Oh my god, he might just break the glass (which he picked up god knows when) from his tight grip on it.

Your stomach dips at the realization that he really does look jealous. Hellishly jealous of Yoongi. Because his stare is burning holes in his back but Yoongi, the ever asshole, is enjoying it.

"Also, later, when he asks you, tell him I'm gonna go home with that DJ guy." Yoongi's quiet voice breaks you out of your thoughts.

"I am not gonna fuck that DJ guy."

"Idiot. I," He takes his hand off your waist and points to himself,"I am gonna fuck him. You are gonna fuck him." He tips his head in Jungkook's direction and your face heats up.

"Why would he ask that?" You grumble and look away.

"Oh you know he will." You do know. Of course. If he really is jealous right now, and if he really does like (love) you how Yoongi is saying, he will definitely ask that.

The rest of the song plays on and you both move in silence, which gives you plenty of time to think. One, you like him. It's not rocket science to conclude that you are head over heels for him. You don't think you love him – but is there a light? Yes. And that scares and thrills you at the same time. Also, Yoongi? Jungkook loves you? You'd be an absolute fool to agree with whatever Min has to say, but the possibility makes your inside warm and your heart race, all giddy and hopeful. No, you are not hopeful that he will love you. But, he likes you to this extent? Would you have ever thought?

'Stop it, Y/N. It's not good to think about what Min said and raise your hopes and then shatter them', you think and shake your head. Yoongi, obviously, catches this and quirks a brow at you, at the very moment when the song ends. You wave his curiosity off and get away from him, walking down the dance floor with him on your tail.

"Go and woo your DJ guy." You wink at him and he understands what you actually need, easily going away with a knowing smile that shows his gums.

All this time, while you were navigating through your thoughts, you have lost sight of Jungkook. So it's to your utter surprise that you find him sitting at the bar when you go there to get a drink, with his head hung low and staring into his empty glass.

He looks so sad, as if he is living alone in a barren world. Your heart almost reaches out to him but you stop yourself in time, and instead, quietly perch yourself on the empty stool beside his.

Your dress rustles a little and that catches his eye. He turns to look at you with downtrodden shoulders, and watches you order a drink. His eyes trace every motion of yours and you try your best to get your drink in your hand before looking towards him. You'll need it.

"We peasants owe this pleasure for what?" His smile is sweet, sickly. You take a sip of your drink and smack your lips.

"Jungkook." You sigh when he still has that painful smile on his lips.

"Where is Yoongi? Don't you wanna dance with him on another number?" he asks innocently but you know the mask very well now.

"Jungkook", you warn.

"What? Why are you sad? Didn't you want him? Now you have him." He chuckles and you scowl. "A treat for my sore eyes", He mocks you and you finally snap.

"What is your problem?"

"You."

He stills at your comment and you are at your peak.

"You are my problem. Don't you understand this is so fucking messed up? We play cat and mouse without even a single word about what we feel. It's," you sigh,"it's so tiring. All we do is bicker like teenagers and then get offended when the other does something. Like, isn't it our motive to offend each other? To shove the other to the ground? I'm just confused and annoyed right now."

"It's not my motive to offend you."

You all but choke at that, and slam your drink down on the table, doubling down in fits of cough. Your hand flies to your mouth to cover it and simultaneously Jungkook's goes to your back, patting and running soothing circles to calm you down.

"It's not my motive to offend you," His voice is calm, leveled,"But I don't know, everything I do seems to tick you off. It's like that brain of yours is a bomb and I am the trigger", he finishes and your coughs die down. You know you should think straight, be a person, act like an adult. But when he said your mind was fickle and implied that you were the problem, you surely didn't like it.

"Oh so now I am the problem?" you grumble and he sighs. You are being a bitch, you know that. You also know that you shouldn't have said this. He was genuinely trying to mend things with you. You don't wait for his answer and storm off. Nowadays when your brain goes haywire, you go away for a while to calm yourself down. Because you decide, the open bar at your office Christmas party is not the perfect place to have a showdown of 'Who can be the bigger asshole?' with Jungkook.

You need some time to think, gather your thoughts. Learn how to think with your brain and not like a bitch.

Jungkook fucked up.

So much for getting on your good side. What was he even thinking? He knows he always has to walk on eggshells around you. Then why couldn't he do it for one more night?

What was he thinking when he made that small little card to ask you out for the party? Fucking idiot, that's what he is. His head falls on the counter and he groans. He wants to flip this table.

He closes his eyes and sighs.

---

Jungkook is feeling cranky. He has been called earlier because someone new is joining today, and he is expected to be on his best behavior. He checks himself in the glass of the door which can open anytime soon. Even though blurry, his reflection is enough for him to know he looks presentable – which he was skeptical of, given that he has rolled out of bed and rushed to the office in less than forty-five minutes. Without coffee.

He decides he needs a cup of coffee before the new person comes in. Just so they don't think he isn’t an asshole, because he can be one without caffeine in his system.

His outfit is presentable and he is feeling good once he has a steaming cup of coffee in his hand. Now this is the Jeon Jungkook he likes.

The door opens and Jungkook, leaning against the wall, lets a wide grin spread over his face, with his eyes crinkling and radiating warmth. Welcoming. He straightens up a little, hoping he doesn't weird you out by his teeth and slouch.

The first thing he sees as you step inside is your anxious face. Your features are twisted into nervousness, but there is excitement lurking in between those lines. Your eyes take everything in, but you are not scared. No, you are far from scared. With the black slacks and white button up that you don, paired with the sleekest high heels he has ever seen, your aura is dominating. It's a 'no nonsense' vibe. And even though you are nervous, because who isn't when it's the first day at their new job, you carry yourself with grace and confidence.

Your eyes scan the surroundings, and finally land on Jungkook. He notices that as soon as you see his smiling face, full of glee, some of your nervousness dissipates as your features relax. And even when your eyes were meek, Jungkook noticed one thing.

You are pretty. The kind that doesn’t let him take his off you. Not the gaudy, flashy kind. But then again, pretty can't be defined with another adjective – it's just that, pretty. The air you carry with yourself asks for people's attention, and the smile that graces your features then tells him that you never take that attention for granted.

Your smile is soft, and he wants to count the eyelashes that brush your cheek whenever you blink. Jeon Jungkook is not a man who would fall on his knees for a woman, especially before he even knows her name. So, he isn’t falling that deep, yet. But god do you intimidate him, even if you look kind.

"Hello, I am Y/N." Oh god. Your voice is sweet too. You have extended your hand and he quickly shakes it, trying not to linger.

"My dumbass didn't fix the wall clock and I forget I have other means to check the time. I am sorry for being late", you hastily explain and Jungkook wants to say it's okay, you are hardly late, but he is spellbound.

That day, he shows you around the office. Yes, he talks a lot. He also makes you laugh. And so, the smile on your face at the end of the day leads him to ask you to accompany him for lunch that weekend. You understood it as lunch in the break room and Jungkook didn't have the heart to correct you, trying to get anything he could.

At the end of the week, he knew he had an inkling of something for you. Something that made him giddy like a teenager.

---

Jungkook wonders how you both came to this. Maybe he knows. But he was never sure what annoyed you so much. He tried to be on his best behavior around you, but somehow it irked you.

Nevertheless, he continued to fall for you. So much that he had hope, that one day maybe you would not see him through the red fog of annoyance.

But feelings are a bitch. And so is someone else, because-

"Well, that was painful to watch." Min fucking Yoongi, he is a bitch.

"And who are you exactly helping by being here?" Jungkook returns without missing a beat, straightening up with a scowl on his face.

"Oh don't worry, Jeon. I don't help. Being kind does not fit my aesthetic", he quips back and settles on the stool you were on just a minute ago.

Jungkook groans when he realizes that Yoongi has no plans of going away soon. He turns back to his empty glass and almost slams his head down on the counter but thinks better.

"Min Yoongi, you are literally the last person I want to see right now."

"Trust me, I know." He quirks his head and sets Jungkook with a look that makes him want to-

"Then why are you here?"

"Because I have nothing better to do." Yoongi shrugs and Jungkook wills himself to not kill him.

A moment passes in which Yoongi stays quiet, surprisingly. Meanwhile, Jungkook turns around and his eyes scan the expanse of the room. He is trying to find you, of course. He had a thought of following you after you stormed off, but he knew better than to. After so long, he knows that when you need space, you should have space. Or else things can become ugly real soon.

He still thinks about the days when you happily chatted with him, didn't go away or shut yourself when he came near you or sat with you for lunch. He does have an idea that his overbearing nature and need to prove himself led you to stray away from him – after all, you had first seen him as a friend, and if he himself turned it into a competition, then you needed to go along with it.

The both of you are an odd case, but he loves it nonetheless. Loves how your face lights up whenever you achieve something, whenever you are happy. He loves how excited you get when you go on one of your mindless rants, not knowing that it's Jungkook who is listening to you, and your friend has stopped paying attention a long time ago. He loves the way you bring him comfort from whatever you do, loves the playful banter between you two. He loves everything about you.

Oh my god, he thinks. He needs to stop drinking. Or else god forbid he spews his thoughts out loud.

His heart sinks when he realizes you are nowhere to be found, at least in his line of sight.

"How lovesick can you be, Jeon?"

He warily turns his head to look at Min Yoongi. How can someone be so fucking frustrating?

"How stupid can you be, Min?" he asks and Yoongi snorts in his drink. He slowly swirls the amber liquid in his glass and grins.

"You know, you should tell her that you love her."

Jungkook stills. His hand that was straightening the collar of his shirt stops and he blinks. What did he say?

"What?"

"What? I said something?" Oh god. Who pays him to act like this?

Jungkook shakes his head, not able to say anything. Is it so clear? He doesn't even know Yoongi. Still, Yoongi can see through him and his stupor. Is he being so obvious? Jungkook's brain goes on an overdrive of questions. Do you know this? Is this why you are always running away from him? Do you, do you hate him so much? Oh god, he can't bear to think this. He immediately turns around to get another drink.

"Calm down, Jeon." Yoongi says, rather calmly.

"I am calm."

"Tell that to yourself." He snatches the drink as soon as it is placed in front of Jungkook, holding it at an arm's length.

"Min Yoongi I swear to god-"

"What? Idiot. See we don't know each other. And believe me, I love drama, especially during the holidays. But nothing goes on for this long. So suck it up and talk to her." He takes a sip from the drink Jungkook ordered for himself and shakes his head as if he is disappointed in him.

The look on his face makes Jungkook want to defend himself.

"I tried to talk to her. But evidently, my words are always wrong."

Yoongi sighs,"Jungkook, you know her better than I do. Take your time to think about the words, not your feelings." He stands up to leave and continues in an almost whisper, "Also, don't think that she hates you, or else you'll be surprised." Yoongi goes away as soon as he says this, without any kind of explanation or expressions, leaving behind a flabbergasted Jungkook.

Loving is not easy, or so Jungkook has heard. But with you, it is the easiest thing he has ever done. He fell for you like the leaves fall in autumn, slow and sure. He layed in your wake as you graced him with your presence. He is helpless, he is gone. He hopes you don't really hate him. Because, he doesn't know how much more of this heartburn he can endure.

Or else you'll be surprised

Yoongi's parting (not exactly parting) words echo in his mind. What does he mean by this? Jungkook wonders and wonders until he-

Oh my god, does this mean?

He needs to find you soon.

The lights in the ladies room are way too bright for your liking. You don't need to see your reflection so clearly in the mirror, especially when you feel so fucking guilty.

You feel like an asshole – maybe you are one. All this time you had been thinking about him, and his gestures which were oh so sweet. And when finally he tries to mend things with you, you snap. Like a teenager who doesn't know how to control all the new emotions they are feeling, you fucking snap. It was so childish of you to run away from him, from the situation like that.

The look on his face when you said that makes your heart ache. And it's not the joint ache or the pain you feel when you twist your ankle, no. It's like heartburn, the one that claws at your throat and chokes you. You literally gasp for air as tears pool in your eyes.

You are glad there is no one in the restroom when a stray tear makes its way on your cheek. (Finally your waterproof makeup is of use).

This is not you. Your reflection mocks you and you want to break the mirror. You are not like this. You don't hurt people, especially those who go out of their way to let you know that they care for you. You know no one else but you are to blame for this. Because when you look back at it, Jungkook has always tried to talk to you, and never rudely. He has always been playful, a little sarcastic with that gleam in his eyes.

You were already soft for him. Or else you wouldn't have kept up with him for this long. But at this point, you are completely putty, folding for him. It's pathetic. You are pathetic and you know that.

The hurt look on his face flashes behind your eyes as you close them, and you wince. You want nothing more than to hug him, to kiss him and say that he is not the problem. You want to assure him that he was never the problem, and you are not annoyed with him. You are annoyed with yourself.

It's ridiculous how quickly you go on a self-hating tangent when someone you lo- care for, is hurt by you. No, you need to stop, or else you'll be here for God knows how long.

You need to find Jeon Jungkook at the earliest.

You dry your eyes and wash your hands, (not your face because your life is not a movie) as you finally look at yourself in the mirror.

You can do this. You can speak your heart to him, and hope he doesn't run away.

Your first step outside the restroom is full of resolve, and directed towards one, and only one goal.

To find Jungkook.

The feeling that is rising in your heart is making you giddy, like a goddamn teenager. Even though guilt is hidden somewhere in the nooks and crannies of your emotions, the one that is visible is the same you feel right now. Your cheeks burn at the thought of what if?

This is pathetic. You are a twenty six year old, well experienced woman. Why are you blushing at your imaginations? Wait, no. Why are you imagining stuff? You need help. Better, you need him.

You cautiously move towards the bar again, hoping to find him still sitting there (very low chances), while also looking around for any chances of him not sitting there (not any, there are many).

But, as soon as you get away from the restroom, darkness spreads all around as the power suddenly cuts off. You can literally hear the power trip – so it's either someone messing or it's really an accident.

Audible gasps are heard from all around as people scramble to grasp the situation, and themselves. Your feet don't move as people rush all around you. You stay rooted in your place when your vision doesn't help you, at all. The lack of windows doesn't allow any kind of moonlight or streetlight to filter in, and it's absolute darkness.

You consider yourself to be brave, headstrong. But darkness is where you draw the line. It's nauseating. You feel like it's sticking to your body and creeping up your skin, making you want to shake yourself out of the daze. It scares you to no end, because you do not like creepy things.

Your mind tries to calm you, but it fails. Your feet try to move, but they fail. Your eyes try to adapt to the darkness, but again, they fail. You can feel the panic settling in your bones. You need something to ground yourself to. You count your breaths slowly and shake your fingers but the whispers and murmurs of people all around you makes you want to crouch down and shout with your hands on your ears. You need something. You need someone to-

"Y/N?"

That- Your neck almost breaks with the speed at which it turns towards the voice. The voice which you want, which you need.

"Jungkook", you sigh, but your voice is high pitched, scared. And as soon as you say his name, you are pulled into a hard, but comforting chest. You immediately wrap your hands around his torso and cling to him for your life. Like he is the only source that is letting you breathe and live.

He holds you close, tight, as if you will slip away if he lets you go. And maybe you will. Because you desperately need an anchor, and he is just the one for you. He invades your senses and that's when you feel like maybe you can breathe again.

You gasp for air as tears line your eyes. You hate the dark. It makes you see things you don't even want to know about.

"Shh. Hey, I am here. Don't worry", his voice breaks your dangerous train of thought and you sigh, nodding against his chest.

You try to control your breathing, slowly as your nails almost dig in his back. You feel like maybe you'll fall down, but the constant rhythm of his heart beating under your ear grounds you, and wills you to stay on your feet. You almost fucking melt in his arms when his lips touch your hair, and he mumbles calmly.

"Breathe, breathe with me. Don't worry, everything is gonna be fine. Just stay with me, okay?" His voice is like honey, bleeding into your ears and giving you comfort. His breathing gets slow, to help you, and you mumble a small okay into his chest, with your eyes screwed shut.

You try to focus on the rhythmic movement of his chest, as it goes up and down with every inhale and exhale of his. Soon enough, your breathing matches his and your worry and panic deflate a big amount. You can finally feel yourself again. And the sudden realization of his scent invading your (now normal) breathing makes you soar in the clouds.

His heartbeat is faster, now that you notice. It's the same that you felt when you hugged him in the elevator. You mindlessly snuggle into his chest and his lips press against your head with more resolve.

"Hey, you okay there?"

That's when you realize.

He knew. He knew of your fear. He knew how you feel when you encounter the dark. And the way he pulled you in and comforted you just solidified the fact that he knew this information very well.

"You, you knew that I-" you gulp. You don't even need to speak for him to know your next words.

"I did." An assurance. Two words that tell you that he knows and will always know of the things that unsettle you. And he will always be there to bring you back to yourself, bring you back to him.

"How?"

"Does that matter? I am just glad that you are here with me." His arms around you hold you even tighter, and you want to say that you will always be there with him.

You smile with red, burning cheeks as you move your head and let your lips rest against his chest. You are so glad he can't see your goddamn blush, but you can swear you just felt the beat under you speed up.

"Thank you", you whisper quietly, but you know he heard it when he moves your head and dips down.

His lips touch your forehead and you still.

The action is so simple, yet it twists your heart in knots. Because, he kissed your forehead. Out of care, out of affection, out of adoration. It's so sweet that you want to die. Is this how you die? Overwhelmed by the simplest act of affection? You are glad it's him, because at this moment, you can't think of a better way to go.

He pulls away and looks down at you with concern in his big, doe eyes. You want to drown in them. You can't see his face properly, but you know the sight is breathtaking, you can feel it. You can see the outline of a strand of hair falling on his face, and you move a little away, breaking the hug to try to look at his whole face, when the lights suddenly switch on.

Brightness fills the room (brighter than before) and you step back, suddenly blinded by the intensity of the light. Your hand shields you as if you have just walked out in the sun, and maybe you have. Because Jungkook's glow is surely blinding you.

His eyes gleam softly, big and doe-like. He stares at you with what you can only make out as stars in his eyes. It's enthralling, the feeling that settles in the pit of your stomach. You don't even realize you were blatantly staring at him when loud cheers break you out of your reverie.

People all around are cheering a few couples who found themselves under the numerous mistletoes hung almost everywhere. You watch with amusement as a couple dives right into a makeout session as soon as they realize they have the opportunity, while a pair hesitates to even look at each other, just a few feet away.

A few painful seconds pass after which the crowd gives up on cheering them, because clearly, it's a lost cause. And clearly, you don't realize what you are doing till someone nudges your hand. You don't know who that person is, because they walk away as quickly as they came, shouting out a smug thing.

"You know, it's bad luck to not kiss."

It's what?

Jungkook gasps as he looks up and belatedly you both realize you have found yourself under a mistletoe. Under. A. Mistletoe.

There is someone whistling, there is someone laughing, there is someone cheering, but all you can see is that you are standing with him under a mistletoe, as he looks at you like he too, can't notice anything else.

You don't know if it's really bad luck or not. But you do know that you'd really like to kiss Jungkook. And you hope he does too.

None of you move, and he mistakes your lack of action as hesitancy.

"If you are uncomfortable we can move somewhere else. I mean-"

"No."

Jungkook blinks.

"Huh?"

"I mean, it's bad luck to not kiss. Right?" you shrug, "So we would not like that. Right?" Why, god why? Why are you speaking like a teenager? Just, hold him and tell him you are head over heels for him and would kiss him even if that meant bad luck for you. You hope he doesn't walk away at your reasoning.

He stops back a smile and nods like a child, his eyes holding the humor and happiness his mouth fails to deliver.

"Yes, of course. We don't need bad luck."

You roll your eyes and stand straighter, a smile playing at your lips.

Is this what dreams feel like? Is Jungkook dreaming? He feels like he is flying. There is no way you are standing in front of him, a flustered mess and making excuses to kiss him. As if he won't kiss you whenever you ask him to. He can kiss you all day (only if you allow him to, of course).

He feels giddy. He wants to hold you and recite the poem he read a while ago that reminded him of you. He wants to write you a song that makes you laugh and look at him with hearts in your eyes. He wants to do everything for you, and everything with you. A kiss is only the beginning of his love for you.

The smile on his face increases when his hands find your face. There is literally no one watching you, no one is there to pester you to kiss, but still you both do it. It's not a movie, but he feels like time slows down around him.

A lone petal which has been enduring the weather for a long time, finally falls when he dips down and attaches his lips to yours.

In the midst of the chaos of the party, Jungkook attaches his lips to yours, and you still. For a moment, you forget that you are standing in the middle of a crowded hall. For a moment, all you feel is him.

An oh so sweet feeling settles deep inside you, and it seems like a lifelong yearning of yours has been settled. He moves his lips against yours gingerly, his hand cradling your jaw as if you will break if he even touches you with fervor. Your toes curl with the soft intensity of the kiss and you lean into him a bit more. The hints of wine that you taste on his lips pulls you into throws of ecstasy and your hands find themselves around his neck.

He kisses you like a dew drop touches the petals of a flower in the morning, soft and gentle. His tongue doesn't skirt at your lips, and you are glad, or else you would've turned a mistletoe kiss into a makeout session. You forget about everything around you.

But when he pulls away, his nose a hair's breadth away from yours, and breath fanning across your lips, you realize you don't even need to know about anything around you.

It's him, and just him.

"Y/N?" it's a whisper quieter than the quietest of nights, but you hear it nonetheless. As if he is asking you if you are still there with him or are still swimming in the ecstasy he has thrown you into.

You don't know what you are feeling. You don't know what to speak when your mind has gone on an overdrive and shut down simultaneously. What if you open your mouth and speak things that are so incoherent that he thinks he has to walk on eggshells around you, again? It's tiring trying to navigate your mind when you can hear your heartbeat loud in your ears. Does he hear it too?

Your eyes stare into his, with millions of questions and just a look of his doe eyes assure you that you are not alone. You will get answers, you will know what this is.

He swipes a finger at your cheek, as if asking you for your sincerity, and you mindlessly nod at his unworded request. It's funny that you are operating on autopilot, but you can't do anything else when your breath has been stolen from your lungs.

A loud cheer breaks you out of your reverie and you notice that people have now gathered around you two. God, it's so embarrassing. Not kissing him, but unintentionally acting like a fool in front of everyone. You think you see Yoongi with a smug smile in your peripheral vision, and maybe, just maybe, Mina is cheering too, but you ignore the whole ordeal.

You need to get out of here.

And just then-

"Wanna get out of here?"

Yes, God yes. Jungkook asks you the right question at the right moment, because of course he is Jeon Jungkook and he is always there for you. You nod and your smile grows as he pulls away from you, only for his hand to touch your elbow. His touch is featherlight, but you shiver nonetheless.

As you leave, you smile at the onlookers and they start to disappear. You are glad no one is nosy enough to come and ask you what will happen next.

You know two people who would like to know, and you know they, or at least Mina, is hopefully looking at you, but you just give her a look that says 'Later' and run away behind Jungkook.

Your feet follow his without other thought and you think maybe that's just what it is.

The night is still young when you step out in the fresh air with him. None of you speaks a word, it's as quiet as the night around you. Until it isn't.

“I am glad we got out of there. Those people are crazy.” Jungkook shakes his head as he says this and you laugh.

“True. Especially Mina and Yoongi. It's so good that we escaped them.”

At this Jungkook stops walking and you almost stumble. When you look around, you both are standing in an empty street with the streetlight and the moonlight being your only companion. There is no noise, given that you both got out from the parking lot and not the main lobby.

But the silence invites you like an old friend, and you are glad that the only one breaking it is Jungkook, and no one else.

"Did he, did he tell you?"

"Did he tell me what?" you wonder out loud. Is he talking about Yoongi? Well, Yoongi did tell you a couple of things. But you don't know how much of them you are going to reveal to Jungkook. Yoongi did make some speculations about his feelings, and even though you have a positive feeling, you are not going to try your luck right now. Especially when he is so close.

"Did he tell you anything after you kind of stormed off from the bar?" His voice is meek, unsure, and you grimace when he mentions your moment of weakness – your childish action of storming off during a conversation.

"No." You shrug and quickly add, "and I'm so sorry for storming off earlier. I was a little-"

"Y/N." He takes your hand and you pause,"it's okay, don't think about it." His hold on your wrist is firm but kind, as if afraid you will run away, again but also not trying to hurt you.

He shakes his head when you fail to say anything but just look at him. "Come here."

And you walk into his arms without hesitancy, like a moth drawn to a flame. He wraps his arms around you and you sigh.

"You don't need to apologize for feeling," he whispers, "but you also don't need to feel like you have to hide from me."

You know that. And you feel relieved now that he has said that.

"I was just feeling too much," you mumble into his chest.

"I know. I was too. And it's okay."

You laugh at that, genuinely. But not in a way that says that he joked, in a way that says you understand what he means. You don’t even think about how suddenly you both resonate with each other on so many levels.

A gust of wind blows your hair and you shiver a bit, despite being in his arms.

“Wanna go somewhere else?” he asks and you wonder out a loud ‘Where?’

“Just, one of my favorite places. I am sure you will love it too.”

And you have no reason to say no to him. So you follow him, yet again, giddily.

It’s colder. The raised area allows the wind to affect you more. But you don’t care when you can see almost the whole city beneath you. Especially with Jungkook beside you bathed in moonlight, holding your hand.

He booked a cab from the street you both were on. And he never let go of your hand. The whole ride was quiet – you didn’t even ask him where exactly you were heading to, and still you knew you were going to love it. Because the easy smile and the glimmer in his eyes said so. His hand firm but gentle in yours said so. And you had no reason to not trust him.

“Wow.”

“Isn’t it really beautiful?” he asks you excitedly, as he looks at you with unadulterated joy.

It is. You can see specks of light dancing in front of your eyes, the Christmas lights. There is no snow – but you think it wouldn't have even survived in front of the warmth you are feeling.

“You come here often?”

“Naah. I don't usually get time to. In college I used to, though. Nowadays I only come here when I feel way too overwhelmed by everything.” He smiles and you do too. ”This place can clear your head quickly, and make you feel like you are on top of the world.”

“Well, I don't know about the top of the world, but it's definitely on top of the city.” He laughs and squeezes your hand, as if you said the most hilarious thing ever.

You know you should talk with him. It's not a fairytale, that suddenly you kissed and now you will live happily ever after. You need to settle down your previous grudges and talk, discuss your feelings a lot more. It's not college all over again, where you will communicate just for the namesake, nor are your feelings for him so trivial that you can just let it go.

"Jungkook."

"Yeah, we need to talk." He smiles at you and your eyes widen slightly.

"What are you, a psychic?"

He just laughs and leads you to a circular brick structure built around some small plants that you notice just now. They are the apt height for you to sit on them like benches, and you realize this place is not that much of a secret. Still, it counts.

You sit down side by side, with your shoulders grazing each other's. And even though there is a lot of space, none of you shift.

"I am genuinely sorry for all the times I annoyed you so much that you felt like you needed to walk away," he begins with his eyes trained on his fingers in his lap.

You shake your head at this. It feels ridiculous to you to sit here and listen to him drone out apologies – as if it's his fault or something.

"I think we should just sit down one day and say sorry to each other, because even I have a lot to apologize for."

He laughs and your shoulders slump with relief at the fact that he doesn't deny your words – that even you have a lot to apologize for.

You think you are a little tipsy. And the red dust on Jungkook's cheeks tells you that he is more tipsy than you. You wouldn't be surprised if he was, especially after the one too many drinks he was having at the bar, while you were dancing with Yoongi. That thought takes you back to the moment you bickered with Jungkook at the bar, and stormed off. Even though he said it was okay, you know that was wrong of you.

"I, you are not my problem, Jungkook."

"Huh?"

He looks at you with big doe eyes, and you think how easy it is for you to drown in them. The moonlight reflects off his face in glowing beams, and the stars find themselves in his eyes. His lips are set in a confused frown, and the red dust on his cheeks seem to increase when he locks eyes with you.

"At the bar, when I said you were my problem. I was in a rage, because Yoongi said some things. And," you pause, realizing you are rambling and that it's ridiculous for you to explain yourself like this, "and there's no excuse for it, yeah. I am sorry." You sigh as you end, not being able to look him in the eyes.

You expect him to say how hurt he felt, or maybe just brush it off with an off-handed comment.

What you don't expect him to do, is take your clammy hand in his and interlock his fingers with yours.

"Y/N. Look at me." He tugs you by your hand and you will yourself to look him in the face.

"What did you say just now about apologizing?"

"That we will sit down one day-"

"Yes, one day. And today's not the day. So stop apologizing for hurting me, when I wasn't even hurt."

You furrow your eyebrows.

"You weren’t hurt?"

He shakes his head with a laugh and raises his free hand to your face. Your breath hitches when he tucks a stray hair behind your ear. Oh my god, you could melt at the way his touch leaves a fire in its wake. His fingers linger on your neck, and he doesn't pull his hand away when he speaks.

"I know how snippy you can get when you are frustrated."

That makes you laugh.

"You know me, huh?" you ask slyly, as if this is the moment for you to be sly.

"Well, I know a lot about you."

"What are you, a stalker?" you gasp.

"Yeah," he dryly replies and you exhale a snort.

His hand still lingers at your nape. And you belatedly realize that the hair on your neck is standing, as if saluting him. His eyes dart between yours and your lips, and you wonder if he will lean down. But then the hand at your nape moves around your form, and he pulls you in by your shoulder.

You stiffen for half a second, but then easily lean into him, laying your head on his shoulder as his fingers dance across your arm lightly.

You can feel the warmth from him, and it makes you forget that you both are practically sitting out in the dead of winter, at night. You wonder if by some miracle you can stretch this moment to last forever, not wanting to leave his side, and the comforting peace of mind you get.

"So, how was the party?"

His question takes you off-guard.

"Umm, good?" you say confusingly. You understand he is just trying to break into a conversation, but really?

"Yeah. I am sorry for being a dick with the whole Yoongi thing before. I know you like him." He sighs and you sit up straight.

"Wait a minute. I don't like him," you say, because you really don't. Who is feeding him these lies? Mina, that fucker.

"Huh? You don't?"

"Honey, everyone and their mama knows how big of an asshole he is. I do not like him, okay." You laugh and you think you feel his shoulder sag with what you think is relief.

"I thought you were into assholes," he comments, slyly, and you decide to play along.

"Well, you are an asshole."

"Yeah, but are you into me?"

At that, you pause, and look up at him. He has an easy grin on his face, which says that he is also just playing along. You are not sure how honest you should be, but it's also high time now. You look back at the sky, and lay your head against his shoulder again as you drawl out a lazy-

"Yeah."

He suddenly sits up straight, and you stumble but catch yourself at the last moment.

"What?"

You look at him, holding back your smile.

"What?"

"You, you are into me?"

His eyes are wide like saucers and you think you see the faint citylights in them. It's beautiful how his lips form a confused pout, and his head nods at you.

"Yes." You laugh, and a smile breaks out on his face. His hands find yours and he holds them in a gentle grasp.

"Do you, do you really like me?"

"Yes, Jungkook."

"Oh my god, come here." He tugs at your hand and pulls you into him, again. You gladly rush into his arms and this time, lay your head on his chest, listening to his heart. You feel giddy, as if you are confessing to your first crush and he has just said that yes, he likes you too.

"I feel like I am the happiest man right now." You blush against his chest and he holds you tighter.

"So do I understand that you like me back too?"

"Of fucking course. If it wasn't obvious already, then." He laughs and you think you can melt in the sound, drowning yourself in the sweet honey ringing of his voice and the joy spilling from it. You know it was obvious – at least to some extent. Okay well, at least after someone pointed it out to you. And that gave you the confidence to open up to him. Or else you would have drowned in your thoughts instead of him.

His lips brush your hair and you sigh at the touch, closing your eyes at the tender feeling. You want the moment to stretch forever. The moon gracing you with its presence and the relief that you are finally beside him, in his arms, with nothing to bother you.

"I love you."

It is so sudden that you forget how to breathe, going still. His words are muffled by your hair, but you hear them nonetheless, when you can even hear him breathing. Somewhere, you knew this was coming. Because everyone, every sign, every feeling led you to believe it. And even though you are glad the intuition was right, you don't fucking know what to do now.

You take your head off his chest and look up at him. Just before you open your mouth to say anything, he rubs his hand on your arm, trying to calm you down. As if he felt the inner turmoil rising inside you.

"Shh. I know you're not there yet, and it's okay. Even if you'll never get there, I am content with how it is right now." He shouldn't be. After all this time, why is he still ready to give himself and his feelings up, for you?

"Jungkook-"

"I know. But, I couldn't stop myself from saying it. And I understand if you walk away."

"Shut up, I am not walking away," you tell him, rather firmly and you feel when his shoulders sag with relief, even though he doesn't let it show on his face. You snuggle into him once more, this time kissing his heart softly through the shirt.

"Why would you say something like that? Why would you say that you will be okay if I never get there?" you mumble and he rests his cheek on your hair.

"Because, being someone to you is better than being no one."

Oh, your heart. Your poor little heart. It can't take the pain, the longing that you can feel radiating from him. You feel like you could cry at his words, because how can you be so oblivious to his thoughts? You wish to tell him something, anything that can tell him that you are almost there too. That this time around, he won't be no one to you, he'll be everything to you.

"I, I am almost there too-"

"Love, I don't need to know if you are almost there or not. I need to know if you are here, here with me. Are you?" The name makes your heart do somersaults, but you compose yourself to give him a reply.

"Yes. Yes I am here with you."

"Well, then I don't want anything else." He laughs and you feel yourself calm down at the voice. It's just a matter of time, you think. You can't afford to hurt him anymore, and you know you won't. You are glad you are here with him. It's meaningless to fret over what will happen, rather than focusing on what's happening.

"I think we have someone to thank," he jokes and you roll your eyes.

"If it's Yoongi, then I'm not talking to him."

"Valid, but you know he helped."

That he did. If not for him, you would have been sulking in some corner, still at that party.

"We'll see what we do."

"Okay, boss. As you say." He laughs and you hit his chest.

"Shut up."

"Maybe you should tell him how you had a crush on him. Wouldn't it be hilarious?"

"Jungkook, I swear to god, if you don't shut up-"

And that's how you bicker into the night, with love and a lot of jokes. With a promise to be together, sealed by kissing in the moonlight.

taglist : @nuniah @jinsquishes @jeonkookiesworld @sailoryooons @jjkeverlast @aliimac @gimmethatagustd @namjoonwhoresworld @apotatomashedbybts @synnfulqt @saweetspoiled @chimchimmarie @sugababylove84 @axigailxo @yoongukie-ff @instabull @graycosco @wobblewobble822 @jungkooksseuphoria @kalea10 @yoongimarryme3

feedback, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated so please let me know your thoughts :)))

also, end notes : i am astronomically late for this one, three months late for christmas! but I'm finally here, after all the stuff going on with me hehe! maybe I'll write a drabble for these two later? where the reader also confesses her feelings? all domestic haha. let's see! but thankyou so much for reading it! any kind of feedback will be immensely appreciated :D

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raplinesmoon · 1 year

Text

A Place For Us (KSJ x F!reader)

pairing: ex-boxer!Seokjin x lawyer!reader (from On The Ropes)

genre(s): angst! and fluff

au(s): established relationship, parents au

word count: 4.5k

warnings: Seokjin and OC are older (late 40s/early 50s), being a parent is hard, moody teenagers, revelations, mentions of infertility, words are exchanged, lots of crying, doubts and insecurities about relationships, flashbacks, making up (happy ending yay!), brief makeout session at the beginning

rating: pg-15 (the OTR universe is 18+)

summary: It’s always on the most momentous occasions that things fall apart - but with some luck, love is always enough to bring people back together.

a/n: Happy 1 year anniversary to OTR! I’ve had this drabble in my head for quite some time, and I shed so many tears writing it. It’s pretty angsty, but really special to me (and you get to meet the newest member of the Kim family!). The title of this is inspired by my absolute favorite book, A Place for Us by Fatima Farheen Mirza. Nothing I write will ever come close to it, but please go and read it right now (the drabble can wait). I hope you enjoy!!

glossary: olchaeng-i (tadpole)

Seokjin darts his eyes nervously between the two options - black tartan or blue paisley, and feels pain shoot up between his eyebrows. Rubbing his eyes, he lets out a heavy sigh, wondering if it was finally time to go see the eye doctor after you’d begged him for weeks.

He hears the door close softly behind him, and your telltale perfume waft into the room, the warmth of your arms wrapping around his back.

“I don’t know why you even bother, you always pick blue,” you whisper into his ear, and he turns at the sound of your voice.

It’s been twenty years, and Seokjin is still never prepared for the sight of you in a dress, never failing to knock the wind out of him every time. He pauses, trying to refrain from vocalizing the first silly, ludicrous thought that creeps into the back of his mind, and instead return to the pressing matter at hand.

“Maybe it’s time to go with something different, the black does match my hair,” he snickers, knowing that now his head was more littered with grey strands than anything.

“You are hopeless,” you huff, snatching up the blue paisley tie and beckoning him closer, wrapping it around his neck. He watches your face scrunch in concentration as you tie it, tongue poking out from between your lips, and his foot taps on instinct, resisting the urge to disrupt your focus and kiss you.

“There,” you step back, admiring your handiwork, but Seokjin pulls you back into him.

“How much time do we have?” he asks, his eyes glimmering and gaze hungry, drinking in every inch of your body.

“We have a little bit,” you whisper against his lips with a smirk, sliding your hand underneath his suit jacket and feeling the hard planes of his chest. “She was still starting her makeup when I left.”

Seokjin barely lets you finish before his lips descend on yours, palms digging into your ass, and it’s a matter of moments before he’s backed you up against the door, wedging a thigh in between your legs to keep you spread open for him.

“Seokjin… please… careful,” you try to warn him, but the words are lost in between moans when he moves to your neck, licking and sucking at your pulse point.

Before you know it, the long skirt of your dress is hiked up to your waist, Seokjin’s hand barely pulling aside the embarrassingly wet fabric of your lacey white thong when—

“MOOOOOOOM!!!”

The two of you freeze, breathing heavily. Seokjin’s eyes are still dark pools, and he shakes his head silently, begging you not to go.

“Mom, I need help zipping up my dress!” your daughter’s frantic voice echoes from outside the door, and you both move quickly, untangling yourself from each other. You straighten out Seokjin’s crooked tie, and he falls to his knees, smoothing out the wrinkles in your dress. The two of you collect yourselves, and then you’re off, pressing a kiss to Seokjin’s cheek as you open the door.

“We’ll finish this later.”

“Appa, how much longer?”

Jin-ae sighs heavily. It’d been nearly an hour in the car, and they still weren’t anywhere close to this wedding. She watches her parents whisper to each other in the front seat, whispering quietly to one another, and huffs, pulling out her phone to text Hae, her best friend.

“Five minutes, olchaeng-i,” Seokjin chuckles.

“Appaaaa!” Jin-ae flushes with embarrassment at the childhood nickname.

When I first met you, her appa’s voice echoes in her head, you were on the ultrasound monitor, no bigger than a tadpole.

It’d been cute when she was younger, but now she was fifteen, and growing up. She didn’t just want to be his little tadpole for the rest of her life.

Get me out of this car, she texts Hae.

Tell me about it, Hae texts back. Hae’s dad was her dad’s best friend, and this was the first time she’d seen Hae in two weeks after Uncle Yoongi had grounded her friend for sneaking out at night.

Jin-ae opens up the front-facing camera, nervously smoothing down her hair and patting her makeup.

“You look beautiful, Jin-ae,” your voice comes from in front, and she sees you eyeing her through the rearview mirror.

“Thanks Mom,” Jin-ae smiles sheepishly, instantly feeling guilty for badmouthing her parents to Hae. They’d been nothing but kind and supportive for most of her life, even if they were a little dorky and overprotective. They’d come to every ballet recital and every soccer practice, they rewarded every good grade with a trip out for ice cream.

Her appa had been the one who stayed home with her most days when her mom worked, making sure she always had a homemade snack after school and coaching her through her math homework. When you came home, you would always promise to read Jin-ae a chapter of the book the two of you were reading together, talking about the plot and the characters until her eyes felt heavy and she began to slip away into her little world of dreams.

Jin-ae had the best parents in the world. Nothing would ever make her believe otherwise.

The real reason she was on edge wasn’t because of them. It was because her crush, Mingyu, would be at this wedding too. She’d grown up occasionally seeing him around because their parents were friends, but recently she’d begun to notice how cute he actually was, always making people laugh. Not to mention he was the captain of the basketball team.

The car screeches to a halt as Seokjin pulls into the parking space, and Jin-ae throws open the door immediately, launching to her feet. Mingyu was waiting inside!

“Bye Appa! Bye Mom! Hae is waiting for me, I’ll see you!”

“Jin-ae!” you shout after her. “Make sure your phone ringer is turned on!”

Jin-ae doesn’t even bother to check, too excited at the prospect of finally dancing with Mingyu. She turns on her heels and hikes up her skirt, watching you and Seokjin smile at her.

“Love you both! Byeee!”

“They’re so excited to see each other,” Yoongi snickers at Jin-ae and Hae tucked away in the corner, giggling at everybody on the dance floor. “Hae’s been driving us crazy over the past couple of weeks, and then Do-woon on top of it.”

“Aren’t you glad we only had one, ___?” Seokjin chuckles, and you give him a half-hearted smile back. Suddenly his hand is reaching for yours, giving it a comforting squeeze.

It wasn’t like you didn’t try. You tried. And tried, and tried, and tried. But something got in the way every time, whether it was not being able to shift out of your tiny apartment into a house, or not being able to move into a bigger house because Jin-ae didn’t want to change schools. Until the doctor told you that no matter how hard you tried, some things just weren’t meant to be.

You supposed it was why you treaded so carefully with Jin-ae. She was all you had, what made you turn from two broken, battered souls into a family. Which is why it scared you and Seokjin that she was growing up so fast. It was only yesterday that the two of you had been holding her hand, bandaging her cuts on the playground.

And now she was older, bright-eyed and curious, and beautiful, and as much as it made you proud, you were also afraid. Afraid the world would hurt her, afraid that it’d dim her light. Both you and Seokjin never wanted your daughter to experience the darkness you both went through, which still lingered in the background of some of your sleepless nights that were few and far between.

“You guys should take a vacation,” Yoongi suggests. “We went to Jeju last year for a week and it was the best week of our lives. Jin-ae could come stay over.”

Seokjin wiggles his eyebrows at you, and you pinch him playfully. In the many years you’d been married, it had never occurred to either of you to take a vacation. Jin-ae had hurtled into your lives not long after the wedding, leaving you with low hopes for a honeymoon.

“Maybe we can take her,” Seokjin shrugs his shoulders. “I’m sure she’d like to get out and explore too.”

You smile at that. A family vacation. It would be nice, just the three of you, away from school, from work, from here.

When you look up again, Jin-ae is no longer by Hae’s side. She’s wandered off to the side, teetering on her heels behind a boy, the two of them walking out of the room.

You let out a heavy sigh, trying to resist the urge to go after her, reminding yourself she’s still just a kid, and you tap Seokjin on the shoulder.

“Dance with me?”

“I’d love to.”

Jin-ae’s heart pounds in her ears, anxiety sending prickles over her skin at the thought of finally being alone with Mingyu. Hae had urged her on when Mingyu came up saying he wanted to talk to her about something.

This was it, the moment she’d been waiting for all night. Love was in the air everywhere it seemed, and now Mingyu was finally going to confess his feelings to her.

“What did you want to talk about, Mingyu?” she asks him, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear shyly.

Jin-ae blushes when she realizes how little space is in her and Mingyu, and how close his face is. All he has to do is lean in…

“You tease!” Min-gyu says, and Jin-ae jumps back in surprise, not expecting his response. “When were you gonna tell me about your parents, huh?”

Jin-ae purses her lips in confusion. Her parents? What did they have to do with anything? She was pretty sure her mom didn’t even know Mingyu’s name, and her appa would be happier knowing he didn’t exist.

“W-what are you talking about, ‘Gyu?” she stammers. “Did they say something to you?”

Mingyu’s face falls. “You really don’t know?”

“Know what?” Jin-ae tries to stop her voice from cracking, and the tears from falling, but they do anyway.

“Jin-ae, your parents, they uh, well uh, your mom was engaged to this other guy, and she cheated on him… with your dad. That’s how they got together. Wendy told Karina last week and now everyone’s talking about it.”

The tears become heavier, clouding Jin-ae’s vision, and she tries to back away, only to be met with the wall. There was nowhere to go.

“N-no, you’re wrong,” Jin-ae croaks out. “Everybody is wrong. My parents love each other, t-they met in the park, they would never do something like that. NEVER!”

The last word is a plea, Jin-ae looking Mingyu in the eyes and hoping that he backtracked, that he admitted it was all some kind of sick joke. However, she’s met with only guilt.

Turning on her heels, she runs.

Seokjin is worried. He hasn’t seen Jin-ae ever since you told him she disappeared with some boy, and now he can’t stop fidgeting with his fingers, wondering if everything is okay with his little girl. What if he hurt her? What if he took advantage of her?

It’s this worry that presses him to nudge you, turning your attention away from dinner. You give him a nod of acknowledgment, and he knows you’ve been wondering the same thing. The two of you excuse yourself from the table, hand in hand as you slip out into the hallway.

Moments later, Seokjin’s worst suspicions are confirmed when he hears the telltale sound of familiar set of sobs. Only this time, they sound worse than the time Jin-ae was riding her scooter down the street and crashed into the curb. Or the time when Minji invited all the girls in the class to her sleepover except Jin-ae.

The two of you come to a stop outside the bathrooms, and you raise your hand, ready to knock, when the frantic figure of Hae stops in front of you, waving you away.

“Mr. and Mrs Kim, you shouldn’t be here right now,” she says, a waver to her voice.

“What happened Hae?” Seokjin can’t stop his voice from rising. “What did he do to her?”

“You guys should really go, I’ve got this, I promise,” she gulps.

You swoop past her, opening the door handle.

“Jin-ae? Baby, what’s wrong? What happened?”

You look up into the tearful eyes of your daughter, her makeup smudged and her hair jumbled, like she’s been pulling at it, strewn on the floor of the bathroom.

When Jin-ae notices you and Seokjin standing in the doorway, she sobs harder, curling up into a tiny ball, and you feel your heart break.

Seokjin moves first, crouching down to wrap his arms around her, but Jin-ae swats him away.

“GO AWAY!” she screams. “I don’t want to talk to you!”

“Olchaeng-i, is this about that boy Mingyu?” Seokjin says softly, stroking her hair and trying to set it back into place. “It’s okay, Appa’s here, we’re not leaving you.”

“But I want you to,” Jin-ae warbles, and you and Seokjin look at each other with concerned faces. “I want you to leave.”

“Jin-ae, please talk to us, tell us what’s wrong,” you give her space, but don’t leave.

“What’s wrong is that you both lied to me! What’s wrong is that you guys shouldn’t even be together because you cheated… you cheated on someone you were engaged to, Mom! And appa just let you instead of saying no! What’s wrong is that my whole life feels like a lie… we shouldn’t even be a real family!”

Seokjin feels his blood run cold, and he looks over to see you in the exact same position, frozen and unable to move. This was never how you wanted Jin-ae to find out. The two of you had spent your whole lives trying to atone for the truth, and now it had come back to haunt you, in the worst way possible.

“Olchaeng-i, we can talk about this, your mom and I can tell you, it’s not what it seems like,” Seokjin stutters over his words, hands fidgeting at his sides. He wants to hug Jin-ae so badly, but it feels like his arms have been encased in cement blocks.

“What is it then?” Jin-ae is relentless. “I have to listen to you explain why you’re not a fucking adulterer, and mom’s not some slut who opened her legs for you the first chance she got? You’re going to explain how you didn’t ruin everybody else’s life because you both were so goddamn selfish? Was I just some stupid way of trying to make up for it, huh? Did you get married and have me because you felt like it was the right thing to do after doing everything else wrong?”

Jin-ae rises to her feet, ignoring Seokjin’s arm reaching for her, and he looks over to still see you frozen on the floor, tears rolling down your face silently. You can’t even look anywhere but straight ahead.

“I don’t want to hear it, appa. I don’t even want to be around you anymore. You make me sick,” she spits out before leaving.

Seokjin is at your side before you can even say anything, crushing you against him as you both erupt into sobs, holding each other and wondering how everything had gone so wrong.

From then on, everything is silent. You and Seokjin barely utter more than ten words to each other as Seokjin pulls Yoongi aside and explains what happened. You see Yoongi nod in acknowledgment, telling his best friend that he’ll find Jin-ae, and make sure she stays out of trouble, while a tearful Hae looks on. It’s silent when both of you pile into the car, the air heavy without Jin-ae’s bubbly chatter to break through it. Seokjin keeps his eyes on the road, and you keep them outside, watching the lights drift by, fighting off the urge to make him stop and vomit on the side of the road. Instead the pit in your stomach only grows deeper when he pulls into the driveway, and everything is dark, with no Jin-ae on the steps waiting for you both.

The two of you step inside, and while normally you’d be relieved to be home, the tiny, two-bedroom house the two of you built your whole life inside now feels like little more than a shabby cardboard box. All the pictures on the wall, the furniture you’d picked out together, Jin-ae’s shoes by the door, feels hollow with the weight of her accusations in the back of your mind.

The scary thing was, part of what she said was right. You and Seokjin had cheated, and you lied, upheaving not only your lives but Jungkook’s in the process. And while every day you thanked the universe that he’d been able to move on and find love, to find forgiveness in his heart, forgiving yourselves had been less of an easy task.

You thought the love would have been enough to fight the feeling of guilt. And it was. Until now.

You plop on the couch, bending over to take off your heels, when suddenly, the words come back, and you crumple, unable to stop shaking. Seokjin is there in seconds, arms around your side, stroking your hair, and the two of you cry it out together, finally growing tired of the silence.

“Shhh, jagiya, it’ll be okay,” he whispers into your hair.

“What if she’s right, Seokjin?” the hopelessness creeps into your voice. “What if this wasn’t meant to last? What if we can’t keep running anymore?”

“___, this is real,” Seokjin takes your hand in his, running his thumb over the thin gold band you wear every day to symbolize your love. “I told you a long time ago that you were it for me and I meant it. I know we’ve made mistakes, jagi, but this, our family, has never been one of them. Jin-ae is just angry, and she’s hurt. She’ll come back to us.”

“I hate that we have to keep doing this,” you lean onto his shoulder. “I hate that we have to remind each other all the time. When will it stop?”

“Maybe never,” Seokjin admits. “But I’ll still be here every day.”

“I love you, Seokjin,” you whisper. “I’m so lucky I get to have you.”

He watches your eyes flutter shut, before whispering:

“I’m the lucky one.”

It’s midnight when Jin-ae sneaks back into the house, finding the spare key her parents kept in the plant pot outside. The house is dark, and it’s quiet.

Guilt causes the knot in her stomach to become tighter. Uncle Yoongi and Hae had taken her to their house, where she’d had a warm meal and time to cool off. She was so confused. So hurt that the perfect parents she’d known growing up were revealed to be far from it. She didn’t know how to process the news, or how to feel anymore.

So she’d sat on the Mins’ front porch in the cold, thoughts running every which way in her mind, until she’d heard the door click and footsteps behind her, coming face to face with Yoongi by her side.

“Still upset?” he asks her, and the gentle look in his eyes reminded her so much of her appa, and how he’d come by with cut-up fruit every time she was upset.

“Shouldn’t you also be, Uncle Yoongi? He’s your best friend.”

“I did my time, little tadpole,” Yoongi chuckles, using Seokjin’s nickname for her. “I told Seokjin it was a bad idea, I told him everything would fall apart. I was angry with him too.”

“How did you make it go away?” she asked him, swinging her legs side to side. “The anger.”

“Jin-ae, he’s made a lot of mistakes, but he’s not a bad man,” Yoongi says quietly. “Neither is your eomma. They love each other more than anyone I know. They were so happy when you came, I thought they’d never stop smiling. You’re their entire world.”

Jin-ae smiles softly at his words, a memory washing over her.

. . .

“Me and mom will be back to get you after school, little olchaeng-i, okay? Be good for us.”

Seokjin gives Jin-ae a kiss, eyes wet with tears. You’re no better off beside, eyes red-rimmed at the new dress she’d picked out, and the pretty bow sticking out of her neat hairstyle. It was the first day of school, and you and Seokjin were going absolutely insane at the thought of leaving your little baby, even if it was only for a few hours.

“Appa, let me go peez,” Jin-ae lisps, watching the other children run around the playground with their colorful backpacks. When she sees Seokjin’s teary eyes, her chubby hand reaches out for his, pressing a tiny butterfly kiss to his cheek.

“Don’t cry Appa, olchaeng-i wuvs you. And mommy too.”

The two of you try to stop from erupting into more sobs, holding her tightly. Before you know it, she’s waving goodbye, her tiny body disappearing inside the classroom.

The rest of the day passes by in an eerie trance. You fret over Jin-ae at work, wondering if she’s making friends, and whether or not she’s okay to use the bathroom on her own. Seokjin stares emptily in the fridge, looking at the heaps of fruit that Jin-ae loved to eat, and decides drown his sorrows by eating the whole carton of strawberries.

You come home early, and the two of you head back to the school, waiting with anticipation as the children spill out of the hallways, eyes looking out for your little girl.

When you see her, she screams, running excitedly into your arms. She doesn’t waste a second before launching into a whole explanation of how her day went, excitedly showing you the colorful “art” she’d scribbled.

“Sounds like you had a fun day, baby,” you crouch to her height, swooping her bangs out of her eyes.

“Was ok,” Jin-ae says, becoming quiet.

“What happened baby? Is there anything wrong? School was fun, right?” Seokjin asks her.

“Was ok, but I like home with you and mommy more. Can we go now?”

You let out a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding. Jin-ae was growing up, faster than you thought she would, but at the end of the day, she was still happiest by your side. And that meant everything.

. . .

Jin-ae tears up at the memory, regret instantly settling into her heart.

“I’m such an idiot, Uncle Yoongi,” she looks at him. “I said such awful things, I, I can’t even take it back. They’ll never forgive me.”

“They’re your parents Jin-ae. Of course they will.”

The memory of school, and the talk with Yoongi linger in the back of her mind as she slips out of her shoes, tip-toeing silently and making a promise to apologize in the morning. When she stumbles past the living room, however, she stops.

Seokjin is there, his head shifting from side to side, trying to keep from dozing off, while you snooze on his shoulder. He’s humming softly in your ear, and his eyes are so full of love that it makes Jin-ae’s heart hurt.

A choked sob escapes her at the emotional scene, and Seokjin turns at the sound, eyes widening at the sight of his daughter in the hallway, but Jin-ae runs up the stairs before he can say anything.

The door to her room is open, and Seokjin knows by the light that her lamp is still on, and she’s awake. He knocks quietly before letting himself in. Jin-ae lies on the bed, her back to him, not even looking up when she feels the bed sink next to her.

Seokjin doesn’t know how to begin. He’s never been the talker between the two of you, preferring to let his actions speak instead. He feels as though he’s made his way to a wide chasm, able to see his daughter on the other end, but unable to reach out and take her hand.

Which is why it surprises him when she speaks first.

“Aren’t you tired, Appa? Of the guilt? Doesn’t it hurt?” the words are less an accusation, and more of a genuine vocalization of concern.

Jin-ae sits up, and looks at him, really looks at him, and her eyes widen in realization, like she’s seeing him for the first time. He’d tried so hard for her, to be the perfect appa, to be the perfect husband, but deep down, he was the same Seokjin from many years ago.

“I don’t want you to be hurt anymore, appa. I don’t want you or mom to feel like this because of me.”

Jin-ae throws her arms around him, sobbing into his shoulder, and he rubs gentle circles on her back.

“I’m only human, olchaeng-i. I try my best, and so does your mom. We try every day to forget the mistakes we’ve made. Do you know what helps us the most though?”

Jin-ae shakes her head, biting at her lips to keep more tears from spilling out.

“It’s you. It’s our family. This love that we have, it’s our second chance. Our shot at happiness. And neither me, or your mom take it for granted ever. We can tell you whatever you want to know, just please, don’t be afraid to talk to us. We need you.”

Jin-ae nods, resting her head on Seokjin’s shoulder.

“Can you tell me about her? Mom? Did you love her the very first time you saw her?”

Seokjin smiles at that, marveling at how it’s been twenty years, and he still launches into the story with the same enthusiasm. Jin-ae’s curious voice interrupts him to ask questions every now and then, until the questions are replaced with yawns, and she drifts off by his side.

Tucking her in, Seokjin shuts the door quietly, surprised to see your sleepy figure at the top of the stairs.

“You did good,” you tell him, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.

“We did good,” he pulls you into him, and the two of you head to bed.

. . .

It’s only been a few hours of restless sleep when you and Seokjin are disturbed by the presence of a third person in your bed, Jin-ae crawling into the sheets between you, wrapping her arms around you.

“I’m sorry mom,” she whispers. “I love you.”

“I love you too baby. I love both of you.”

“Can I sleep here with you guys tonight?” Jin-Ae asks, her voice full of uncertainty.

“Okay,” you tell her, pulling her into you to lay across your chest, like she did when she was a baby. Seokjin puts his arms around both of you, pressing a kiss to your lips when Jin-ae has fallen asleep.

The little house is quiet again, but the good kind, a place for your family reserved within its four walls. The night is peaceful.

A/N pt. 2: I LOVE THEM YOUR HONOR!! I WILL KEEP LOVING THEM!! As always, any feedback or comments are much appreciated, but I appreciate you all anyway. Lots of love, Isi 💜

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apotatomashedbybts · 3 months

Text

Eleutheria

or The Exit Part II

皿 Pairing: Jeon Jeongguk × OC (Park Sowon) (reader) / Jung Hoseok × OC (Lee Ji-a)

皿 Genre: Horror; Angst

皿 Trope: speculative horror, supernatural au, established relationship

皿 Word Count: 27.7k+ [sorry (^人^)]

皿 Trigger Warning: description of demonic entity, loss of loved ones, anxiety, injury, suffocating environment, deception, death

皿 Rating:PG13

皿 Banner: apotatomashedbybts

皿 Beta Reader: @theharrowing [my darlingest, Harrow! No matter how much I thank you it won't be enough! Thank you for being so patient with this piece and helping me bringing it to how it is now! Thank you for leaving so many compliments and reactions throughout the story and for putting up with my queries! They mean the world to me! And I feel like I haven't told you enough how amazing you are! Thank you for being the absolutely amazingest! Love you （づ￣3￣）づ╭❤️～]

皿 Disclaimer: This is a complete work of fiction. Just go with the flow, baby~

皿 Author's Note (I): It's finally here! Omg! It took me so long to complete this part... And idk if I should be proud or embarrassed to say that this isn't the end. There will be multiple chapters coming! Honestly, when I started writing this part I thought the entire story will end in this BUT the more I thought about this story the more it extended, more characters appeared, the story in my head got kinda complicated (?) So I thought I must write whatever's hotchpotch cooking inside my hot head! And it feels like it's just the beginning.

皿 Author's Note (II): It'd mean the world to me if you not only like but also REBLOG and let me know about your thoughts on this! ♡⁠(⁠˃͈⁠ ⁠દ⁠ ⁠˂͈⁠ ⁠༶⁠ ⁠). Your feedback gives me the motivation to keep on writing ✧⁠◝⁠(⁠⁰⁠▿⁠⁰⁠)⁠◜⁠✧ I would love to hear any thoughts! Even if it's an incoherent screech or just a "nice"!

皿 Taglist: @here2bbtstrash ; @sahazzy ; @minisugakoobies ; @sailoryoons ; @kiara-ish

皿 Crosspost: AO3 | Wattpad

皿 Sketches for better understanding: The Sketches

皿 Series Navigation: The Exit ⇰ Eleutheria ⇰ The Balam Manor (Upcoming)

皿 Summary: Jungkook not reaching home when he was supposed to doesn't sit right with you. You set out in search of him, only to find yourself in a mysterious manor with even more mysterious people who somehow don't seem too willing to let you go.

You couldn't shake off the uneasy feeling since you last talked to Jeongguk.

The network on the main road remains intact throughout the way. So it was weird that there was a network disruption even when the weather was fine.

Your mom and step-father tried to reason that things like these can happen sometimes and told you to just accept the odds. But it was too much of an odd that you couldn't connect to him once even after trying his number innumerable times and that he hadn’t arrived even by dawn when it hardly takes half an hour to forty-five minutes from where Jeongguk last called you - De Ville's Crest.

Being a detective, you had seen the worst of what not taking action in time could do to a person. So without wasting any more time you took your car and went out to search for Jeongguk as soon as dawn gave into its first moment of morning.

After getting out of the De Ville’s Crest, you continued to drive on the main road towards the city.

Throughout the way you looked for any sign of accidents and to your relief there weren’t any.

Asking each and every store and commercial places on the way didn’t give you any desired answers either.

It generally takes about two and a half hours from De Ville’s Crest to reach the junction but today it took you almost four hours.

The grocery store at the junction of the main road and the shortcut, which barely anyone used, to The Moore Estate, caught your attention.

You had been traveling on this road as far as your memory took you back, but in those memories there was never a grocery store like this in this lonely intersection.

If it wasn’t for the board hung up on top of the door saying “Taehyung Groceries”, you would have mistaken it for a greenhouse with its clean glass exterior that sparkled in sunlight and the numerous plants inside that made the products kept inside hard to notice.

That’s a rather fancy grocery store. You thought to yourself.

But what intrigued you the most to approach the store were the CCTV cameras placed outside the store — one facing the main road and one to the shortcut.

Maybe one of them caught something…

You stopped your car in front of the store and went inside in hopes of getting some information.

The air that greeted you upon entering carried a subtle scent of fresh rain and the forest at dawn that you sometimes visited with your step-dad, mixed with a light soothing scent of sandalwood incense and you found it extremely easy to breathe, as if you could sense the air get in and out of you.

Behind the counter you saw an old lady who looked 60-something. With a soft smile adorning her face she almost looked like she was glowing in her white full sleeve cotton shirt, white straight-leg trousers and white straight hair that flowed effortlessly reaching her hips.

As soon as you crossed the threshold you heard her say, voice just above a whisper, “You are here!”

“Sorry?” You asked, surprised at her unusual greeting.

“Nothing, my dear. Tell me what you want.” She smiled and walked out from behind the counter.

You were quick to accept her explanation as you didn't have any patience to ponder about a greeting that she might have uttered whimsically.

Hurriedly taking out your phone you showed her a picture of Jeongguk and asked, “Can you please tell me if you have seen him some time yesterday?”

She took the phone from your hand and looked at it with squinted eyes for a couple seconds and then while passing it to you she said, “Oh my! Yes! I saw this gentleman yesterday. He bought a bottle of water from me a little after midnight. He asked me about the shortcut to The Moore Estate.”

Your eyes looked hopeful for the first time since last night but it was quick to give up that glint as soon as you heard about the shortcut.

“Are you sure that he actually took the shortcut?” You enquired, trying to hold on to the possibility of him not actually taking it.

The old lady pondered for a couple seconds before replying, “Well, we can always check the CCTV footage.”

“Really? Can you please check? That would really help me a lot!” You exclaimed, both hopeful and grateful.

“Of course. Why not?” The old lady answered and went back to her counter where her computer was.

After a couple minutes of impatient waiting, you got called and you almost ran the short distance.

The footage was from the CCTV facing the shortcut and it was showing Jeongguk’s car entering the shortcut at around 12:30 am. The footage wasn’t able to record much since it seemed like as soon as Jeongguk’s car entered that foreboding road it was swallowed by an impenetrable darkness.

You covered your face that contorted in fear and helplessness. Your legs felt like jelly. As if sensing that the lady offered you a tool to sit down.

“Why? Why does this keep happening to me?” You whimpered.

The strange string of incidents surrounding you resulting in the disappearance of your loved ones seemed to pull you at the throat, keeping you suffocated.

First your dad, then your best friend Hoseok, and now Jeongguk.

You felt like you were stuck in a terrible horror game and you were failing every level.

The shortcut was famously infamous for being one of the creepiest and most dangerous areas in the state. And only people who didn't know about this route’s fame went in it.

There had been numerous reports of people going missing over the years after taking this road at night.

The authorities tried to investigate the place in search of potential criminal activities behind missing persons but found none — adding to its reputation.

But what terrified you the most was your dad's repeated warning that still echoed in your ears, “Never ever take the shortcut to The Moore Estate at night. Not even in your dreams.”

Thinking about your dad's ceaseless warnings and what could have happened to your boyfriend, your head felt light.

“If I hurry I can still stop something bad from happening to him, right?” You thought and got up to leave.

But the lady held your hand and said with that kind smile intact on her face, “You are my first customer today and it’s time for breakfast, you must be hungry. Have some sandwiches before you leave.”

She was right. No matter how much of an emotional wreckage you were, your body had its demands and the low grumble in your stomach was a definite whistle-blower.

You sat down obediently and the lady brought two fluffy egg and bacon sandwiches on a plate for you. You told yourself that you must shove these down your throat and get going but these were hands down the best sandwiches you ever had, and God knew how hard you were trying not to relish on the taste or the relaxation that spread throughout your frazzled back instantly after you took the first bite.

As you were paying for the food and taking back the change in the counter, the lady asked, “Are you going to find your boyfriend?”

“Yes! I must hurry.” You nodded.

The fact that you didn't mention to her about Jeongguk being your boyfriend had totally gone out of your mind. You also brushed off the fact that she used ‘find’ instead of ‘search’ in her question.

She lightly caressed your hair with a single stroke and smiled, “I hope you do. Here take this,” saying so, she handed you what seemed like a cookie the size of your palm, wrapped in a bluish silver wrapper, “for when you need it. This is on the house so don’t worry about paying. Now off you go.”

Maybe it was because of the overpowering soft glow of hers that prevented you from noticing her eyes thus far which were so deeply pain-stricken that you couldn’t help but hug her and mentally said, “Everything’s going to be fine.”

You wondered why you even said that when you should be the one to be told that instead.

The lady gently patted your head and you felt a gentle whisper inside your head, “I know.”

You couldn’t pinpoint but something about that and her hug cooled your nerves.

Thanking her for the info and the food, you hurried outside and sped into the forbidding shortcut.

The sun was bright above your head and you have been driving for almost an hour now at your topmost speed. But you hadn't come across any turning. The road went straight ahead without branching.

After another hour of driving you reached The Moore Estate, without noticing anything unusual.

I must be doing something wrong.

You let out a frustrated sigh and ran your hand through your hair while turning your car around and starting again towards the road that you came from.

But you were left disappointed again when even after reaching back at the junction you couldn't find the turning or any sign of Jeongguk's car.

Stopping your car at the junction, you lowered your head on the steering wheel and tried to clear your mind.

Then as if suddenly having an epiphany a memory from eleven years ago played inside your head.

Due to an emergency at home, your dad was taking you home from your boarding school late at night. You were fifteen then.

Time in hand was short so your dad had decided to take the shortcut. You faintly remembered seeing a gas station but what you clearly remembered now was what your dad had said after crossing them at a speed of 130 km/hr.

While keeping his sharp eyes on the road and never going down under the speed of 100, your dad had told you, “Do you wanna know a fun fact? Did you see that gas station that we crossed a while ago? It only appears after midnight. In the daytime you can never see it.”

You remembered your dad’s tear laden face with which he had made you promise, “Promise me, you'll never take the shortcut after midnight! And even if you do, you won't stop anywhere in the middle. And no matter what happens, you won't take the road to Devil's Crest!”

Even though you didn't believe him back then, counting it as his way to scare you, you never took the shortcut - until today.

And before the curious-you could ask him about what he said that night, your dad had disappeared from your life without a trace.

“I am sorry dad. I have to break the promise today. I have to find Jeongguk.” You whispered as you felt your tears trying to push their way out of your throat.

Shaking off the sadness and the tears from your eyes, a technique that you had learned from Jeongguk and had countlessly teased him about, you looked at the time - it was 2 pm.

You had 10 hours in hand.

You closed your eyes to think. You have to utilise the time properly and so you decided to go back home and come back with a few things that might come in handy.

After reaching home, needless to say that you were bombarded with questions.

You couldn't tell them that you would have explained everything to them if things were that easily explainable. But it wasn't, so you just told them to trust you and that you were going to find him.

The last bit seemed like a reassurance to yourself. You were not sure if what you were thinking was right or not. But you ardently hoped it was.

Packing your bag with warm clothes for both you and Jeongguk, a power bank for your phone, a strong fully charged flashlight, several water bottles, a first aid kit, your fully loaded desert eagle gun, and a compass, you started on your journey to find Jeongguk after having dinner.

When you reached the junction, it was already dark and the moon was in the middle of the sky.

The almost full moon was enthralling and you couldn't help but sigh and pray to it to look after Jeongguk and help you find him as quickly as possible.

As night turned into midnight the number of vehicles on the main road decreased exponentially. The coldness started to settle onto the ground more rapidly and the surroundings were gradually getting abandoned by the signs of the city. The only trace of human civilization was the dim light coming from the old lady's grocery store.

It was time to go but just before you were about to start your engine, your stomach growled loudly.

You clicked your tongue disapprovingly and with a short sigh opened your bag to look for some snacks, but were quick to curse yourself when you realised that you had forgotten to pack any.

But just then you remembered the cookie that the old lady had given you. You thanked her mentally and opened it. Was it your eyes playing tricks or did the dim light of the grocery store shine brighter for a second before going dim again?

The cookie was big - enough to defeat your hunger for now. The aroma of it was instantly appetising and after you tasted it, you regretted not getting more from her. You didn’t know whether it was just your luck or a weird coincidence that the cookie tasted of your favourite flavours — butter, orange, cashew — mixed to perfect ratio. But now there wasn't any time. So you quickly started munching on it.

When you reached the middle of it you found a piece of paper inside and exclaimed, “Ah! So it's a fortune cookie!”

Putting the rest of the cookie in your mouth in one go, you started reading it in the car light.

The writing was written in golden block letters on a black paper and it read —

WHEN ROADS ARE MISLEADING AND FALSE WORDS ARE SPOKEN

IN THE RULING DARKNESS SOMEONE'S TREASURED THING MUST BE BROKEN

“Hmm...?” You were confused. It seemed more like a riddle than a fortune.

You read it a couple times more and then kept it in your cargo trouser pocket with a shrug because you couldn't understand what it could mean.

Before starting your engine you looked at the moon and prayed, “Please dad, look after Jeongguk for me while I get there.”

•••

The road was unsettlingly dark and your car headlights couldn't pierce further than a foot through it.

The moonlight that was brightening the surroundings with its light just a while ago seemed to have disappeared. You couldn't even see the moon anymore.

As if it was a sign that you have entered the forbidden shortcut now.

You drove really slow in order to avoid hitting something.

And after driving for about twenty minutes you saw it - the gas station.

Your fuel meter's arrow was almost near empty even though you had filled it full near the junction just before leaving.

Your brows knitted themselves together but you decided not to stop. More so because you remembered your dad’s warning. You didn’t have any business in there anyways.

While driving past it you saw a lanky old man standing at the edge of the gas station as if waiting for you to enter. And when you crossed past it you saw him in the side mirror of your car - staring right at the mirror.

You felt like he was staring right back at you as if he knew you were looking at him.

You felt a chilly feeling run right through your spine and you pressed onto the accelerator to get out of the vicinity of the station as soon as possible.

Has the road always been this long?

Your doubtful gaze wandered over to your phone and you saw that it was almost 3 in the morning; that meant you had been driving for nearly three hours now.

You were supposed to reach The Moore Estate by this time but you couldn't seem to get out of this seemingly never ending dark road.

Another strange occuring caught your eyes that you had forgotten all this while - your fuel. The arrow which was near the empty mark near the gas station was now hovering in the near full section, right where it should be.

Was it your eyes playing a trick with you again or was it really a deception caused by the negative entities present there to make one enter the gas station, you wondered.

Fearing that you might miss the turning again you slowed down even more and stopped yourself from zoning out, but just then your phone alarm went off making you jump. You had forgotten that you had set an alarm at 3:03 am - when Jeongguk had called you.

And then you saw it - Devil's Crest.

An arrow-shaped wooden signboard with the name etched on it in a deep red colour, that almost gave the impression of dried blood on rotten wood, was pointing towards a road that had magically branched, creating a turning — leading to an obscurity.

You stopped your car and took a deep breath. A few slow breaths later, the fear of encountering something vicious began to settle on your shoulders.

The repeated voice of your father telling – “never take the road to Devil's Crest, never take the road to Devil's Crest” – began to reverberate inside your head so loudly that you had to sit down, hold your head and pray for it to go away.

Why now? Why now of all times? You felt miserable as tears started wetting your lashes.

Jeongguk! You have to find Jeongguk! You slapped your ears in an attempt to make the voice go away and started taking deep slow breaths to calm yourself down.

That seemed to work and a few minutes later the voices inside your head had died down.

Parking your car off the road, you took your backpack and with the flashlight in your hand you stood in front of the signboard.

The road ahead was iniquitously eerie, and not to mention, dark just like the rest of the area. It made you uneasy and your legs revolted to move.

You took out the phone from your pocket to see the time but just then something fell off - it was the paper from the cookie.

You picked it up and in the flashlight you read it again instinctively -

WHEN ROADS ARE MISLEADING AND FALSE WORDS ARE SPOKEN

IN THE RULING DARKNESS SOMEONE'S TREASURED THING MUST BE BROKEN

“When roads are misleading... Never take the road to Devil's Crest…” you mumbled a couple times. Something told you that these two sentences juxtaposing like this was not a mere coincidence and that there must be some connection and intention behind them.

“What could it be? What could it be?” You asked yourself and swung the flashlight haphazardly around the road and then your eyes and your flashlight loosely hovered over the overgrown bushes and the trees by the side of the road to Devil's Crest and you thought,

What if I don't take the road and still enter the Devil's Crest?

As soon as the thought crossed your mind, your legs felt light and a small amount of fear transformed into relief.

You made your way through the overgrown weeds and grasses in between the trees and thought to go on a parallel line along the road but as soon as you struggled your way through the undergrowth and entered the woods you couldn't see the road anymore, as if you had mistakenly entered a whole different area.

You went back to where you entered and there you saw the Devil's Crest turning and the road. There was no way you were mistaken.

“It must be because of the darkness,” you told yourself and re-entered the doomy forest.

You stood there for a moment, worried that it’s going to be difficult to reach the destination, no matter how unknown, if you couldn’t see the road. What if you get lost in this darkness without any way out?

But this awry feeling at the back of your mind telling you that this was the only way was too heavy, and so with the flashlight being the only source of light, you started walking straight ahead.

You have been walking for a while now and except the occasional hooting of the owls and a constant chirping of the crickets there was nothing to keep you company.

You didn't know where exactly to look at since this indomitable darkness was swallowing the light of your flashlight which resulted in you seeing only about a foot around your steps, nothing more.

You called out Jeongguk's name constantly at regular intervals but with your calls dissipating in the woods, what came back to you as a reply was the annoyed chirps of the sleepy birds.

You avoided swinging your flashlight around the woods in fear of witnessing something scary and you cursed your brain for reminding you all the countless horror movies you have ever watched right at the moment.

Disappointed and tired, you stopped for a water break and looked at the time. You had been walking for 45 minutes now and with you walking slowly because of the protruding branches and thorns grabbing onto your pants, there seemed to be little to no progress. You looked up and the moon and the stars were still absent, the sky was still black.

Refusing to give up or take a break you dragged yourself forward with slow steps, on an energy saving mode.

But then you saw it. Clearly. You were not surrounded by darkness anymore. You had reached a clearing from whose center four clear trails were going four ways and everything was grey, like a black-and-white movie. The moonlight illuminating the area after appearing so suddenly took you by surprise, making you come to an abrupt stop.

You rubbed your eyes and looked back where you just came out from — it was still lightless.

Everything around you seemed like something from a fever dream.

I haven’t fallen asleep in the car, have I? You pinched yourself hard and you felt it quite realistically.

What the fuck is this place? You glanced around while rubbing the area you pinched.

Up until you were inside the forest area it smelled like any other woodland - a little musty and damp, rotten woods, several sweet fragrance coming from trees and moist earth. But as soon as you stepped into this part there was a drastic change in the odour. It smelt like cold steel and it set a little heavier on your nose. And then you noticed another weird thing in this already weird environment — a crossroad signpost with four wooden arrows pointing at four different directions making an X, where the trails met.

Generally, a crossroad signpost at an intersection was something that is very very normal. But here, what made it strange was its heads not pointing towards the trails, instead the areas in between.

You took a deep breath and walked over to the post. You looked at it intently with your flashlight. They were simple wood cutouts with nothing written on them.

What are they even pointing at? You directed your flashlight at the grassy areas and each one of the trails. The trails were wide enough for three people to walk side by side and their condition indicated that they were used for regular commute.

Something felt off. As far as you knew, people avoided taking the shortcut altogether. As far as its bad reputation goes, it seemed highly unlikely that there would be people using these isolated areas to travel. Also, the part of the forest that you came out from didn’t have a trail going in its direction. You were standing in one of the grassy areas just like the areas in between the other trails. That could also mean that one of these trails was connected to the road to the Devil’s Crest for it to at least take the travellers somewhere closer in this area.

Earlier, just before entering the forest you had checked on your needle compass that the road to the Devil’s Crest was headed south. It was a complete wild guess, an arrow in the darkness, but you decided to take the trail that was headed south.

You took out your compass from your jacket pocket and faced the southward trail.

This should be fine, right? You took a long deep breath that made your shoulder go up and down.

You stared at the road ahead but a heavy feeling in your gut made your body immobile. It made your heart scream to your mind, “I don’t wanna go there.” Your body was stiffening itself in its place, refusing to move forward — an instinctive stance to avoid whatever danger that might be lying ahead.

You didn’t know how many minutes had passed with you just standing there. As if to give you a nudge, a chilly wind started to blow and a gauzy fog began to settle on the ground.

To avoid the cold you hung the flashlight on your shoulder by its strings and put both your hands in your puffer jacket pocket.

Inside your jacket pocket you found the wrapper of the cookie that you ate earlier. You took it out and as soon as you did a gust of wind blew it out of your hand.

The wrapper, oddly shining in this dull grey environment, flew over to the grassy area to the left side of the southward trail. Along with the wind, the still-motionless fog began to mobilise. Instinctively you dashed towards the wrapper, passing the crossroad signpost, to retrieve it. But before that, for a split second you were quite certain that you noticed the fog through your peripheral vision floating on the trails, mobilized by the wind, moving towards where the trails lead to and there was no trace of them on the rest of the areas.

After grabbing the wrapper you turned around to confirm what you just saw but what you witnessed made you falter backward and you tripped on your own foot and fell on the ground.

I must be going crazy! What in the Alice In Wonderland shit is this?

You broke into a cold sweat. You felt the remaining energy from your body leave like a sheet that was covering you, gliding away from you. You were nothing but an object now.

And your surroundings were nothing but empty now.

It was as if in those past fraction of seconds you weren’t looking, someone had erased everything — there was no crosspost signboard, neither were there any trails. It was just a vast field covered in small grasses, all nothing but grey.

Sitting there you forgot that you had to be somewhere. Your numb brain couldn’t say anything to your body and you sat there staring blankly at the now-empty space in front of you. You could hear a faint constant ringing inside your ears and a slow darkness gradually took over your eyes.

A yellow light on your eyelids, shivers all over your body and the noise of accumulated chirping made you sit up with a startle. Still heavy with sleep, you rubbed your eyes to wake yourself up properly.

The first rays of the sun were just touching the area and you discovered the reason behind your shivers. You were sleeping on the ground, under the open sky and needless to say the dews had settled upon you alongside everything.

You looked around your surroundings - it was the same field that you saw before passing out, except it was now full of colour. The steel-like smell was long gone, instead the air was filled with the smell of wet grass. The sun rays fell upon the dark green leafy trees of the forest that surrounded the field covered in grasses, some plump green, many golden yellow and a few parched brown. Flocks of birds flew across the sky in search of food and the wetness under you seeping through your clothes was making its presence more prominent to you.

The normality of it all made you question whether what you witnessed just a few hours ago was even real. Maybe you had dreamt all of it, you wondered. And that made more sense to you. It definitely was a dream, you concluded. You had been traveling all day and night yesterday without any proper rest and the constant anxiety, along with the trip through the forest must have taken a toll on you.

Lying down for such a long time in such an uncomfortable position on your side with the haversack still on your back had made your body sore. You took off the haversack and stretched your limbs and massaged your shoulders to make some of the soreness go away. Rubbing your face to remove the leftover haziness from your mind, you got up to get a better view of your surroundings. You were on a comparatively higher ground, which merged to a plain with a gentle slope and you noticed in the far south which seemed hardly a kilometre away from where you were — a mansion built in the old English style.

“Have I wandered into someone’s private property?” You wondered, even though you were pretty sure you hadn’t noticed any warnings or boundaries on your way here.

Many people didn’t like strangers wandering inside their property and the residents of this mansion could very possibly be one of those, but in this situation your best shot was to risk the chance of getting kicked out with profanities and ask about your missing boyfriend, a way out of this forest to some nearby locality and if they were kind enough, then a moment’s proper rest.

You put on your haversack and picked up the flashlight that was lying on the ground, luckily unscathed, by your side.

The valley was uneven like waves which could go unnoticed unless walked on, making it strenuous to cross, but the weather in the morning was really soothing, which made you feel like everything was gonna be alright, and occasionally you stopped to take a brief breather by soaking in the sun with your eyes closed.

Before your clothes could dry up in the breeze on the way, you found yourself standing in front of the main gate of the mansion.

The mansion, even though built in the old English style, hardly seemed historic. It was well-cared with a similarly pampered garden.

The latch of the iron gate was unclasped and a stone slab to the right of the gate on the low boundary wall read - The Balam Manor.

You felt like you had heard the name somewhere before but you couldn’t trigger that particular part of your memory.

“Sorry for the intrusion,” you whispered before letting yourself in through the gate.

Another sixty metres walk and you were in front of the main door. It had one of those ropes attached with a bell system instead of electronic doorbells.

You took a deep breath and rang the bell thrice and for the next several minutes you stood there with rapid tapping feets and drifting eyes.

A very tall old man opened the door who you could swear to have seen somewhere before. You looked up and stared at his face trying to figure out this odd sense of knowing but you were soon pulled out of your rigorous digging through your brain by his question, “Yes? How may I help you?”

“I am sorry for disturbing your perfect morning, good sir, but actually I have come looking for someone and I was wondering if you have seen that person somewhere.” You smiled awkwardly and hoped for your flattery to work to a certain extent.

The old man scanned you once from head to toe then back to your eyes. Then turning his neck to give a quick glance inside he turned back to you and replied, “Please wait a second. I’ll be right back.”

Hardly a minute had passed before he came back and he said, “Please take your footwear off and come inside. Our ladyship has permitted you to be invited in.”

Wow… I never thought I would hear this type of sentence in real life. Do I have to talk like that too? You thought but all you could really say was - thank you.

The old man led you through a short hallway whose walls were decked out with paintings varying in sizes but all equally gorgeous and weirdly had the same theme — water.

Midway through the hall room there were two majestic curved staircases leading to the first floor, merging into one platform overhead.

You were guided into a large lavish living room crossing the staircases, which justified the mansion of such grace. The theme colour of the room was dark navy which adorned the couches, the fireplace, the walls, the curtains and was perfectly balanced with hints of gold and light brown.

You were mesmerized and couldn’t stop admiring the space you had entered with your mouth agape.

“Please take a seat. Her grace will be here shortly.” Saying that, the old man disappeared into the right wing hallway of the house.

You nodded and sat there with fidgety fingers but your eyes were still busy praising all the ornate stuff decorated meticulously.

The room, greatly flooded with sunlight seeping in through the large windows, somehow smelt cold, as if the window was just opened prior to your entrance. But soon it was overcome by the smell of a perfume that felt like a lot of flowers mixed together, almost too sweet for your delicate nose, that seemed to have drifted in earlier than its owner could.

With the mystery not remaining in hiding any longer, the owner appeared from the right hallway and you found yourself immediately standing up in the presence of an overpowering aura.

The lady, standing almost at a height of 6ft, was wearing a solid black mermaid gown with a side-buttoned velvet blazer that hugged her slim torso so firmly that it seemed to be doing the work of a corset instead. Her black hair was made into a 50s starlet style and her makeup, in contrast to all the darkness in her dress-up, was light peachy.

You thought it would be rude to cover your nose in front of her but the smell of the flowers was almost dizzying. Then a second smell hit you. It was of burnt wood. It was lingering subtly in the air and there was no way for you to know where it was coming from.

The lady gestured you to sit down and she herself sat on the single seater sofa opposite to you.

“I heard from Duri that you came here looking for someone?”

“Yes. Let me first apologise for inconveniencing you like this. A complete stranger showing up at your doorstep early in the morning must be bothersome.”

“Oh, not at all. We get visitors once in a blue moon. So seeing new faces around here is actually a treat for us old souls.”

Her amicable mood made you feel relieved and your shoulders relaxed visibly.

“Us old souls? Ma’am, you are far too young to be called an old soul.” Your compliment made her blush.

She smiled shyly and said, “Then I guess my makeup is on point today.”

You opened your mouth to protest with some more compliments but she started talking.

“So who are you looking for? We actually might be of some help.”

With hopeful eyes, you briefly told her about your boyfriend going missing on his way to Moore estate and how you had been searching for him. Intentionally you kept all the help and the supernatural things to yourself.

“We may have good news for you. We rescued a young man yesterday around dawn at the border of our property. Would you like to visit him and see if he is the boyfriend you mentioned?” The lady asked you with a sympathetic tone.

You jumped at the possibility and stood up, “Yes! Please! Let me see him.”

“Sure.” The lady stood up. “Follow me.” Saying so, she started walking towards the left hallway from the entrance. You followed her gliding steps. She stopped in front of the last room, and with a quick yet heavy exhale she opened the door.

You entered behind her and rushed to the king size bed when she made way for you.

It was Jeongguk. It really was Jeongguk. He was lying on the bed on his back with the lower half of his body covered in a comforter. He had a white cotton henley shirt with lace string on which you recognised wasn’t his. He was breathing slowly and he had a bandage going around his head which ran through the middle of his forehead.

You sat by his side on the floor and held his hand. You couldn’t begin to express how grateful you were. The heavy stone in your heart was finally melting and you gave in to the urge of crying that you had been holding since yesterday.

“Thank you. Thank you for being here.” Holding his right hand, you rubbed it gently against your forehead and placed a long kiss on it.

Seeing no response from him, worry started to settle in your mind again. You turned towards the lady and asked, “Excuse me, ma’am, what happened to him? Why isn’t he responding?”

“Oh dear.” The lady briskly walked towards you and reached out her hand towards you. You took a few seconds to grasp what she was trying to do and then you slowly placed your hand in hers and let her guide you up towards the small couch that was seated beside the window of the room.

Sitting so close to her, the burning smell along with the stinging flowery scent hit your nose brutally. You let out a quick cough to ease that squeezing feeling around you.

She held your hand in a sympathetic manner and began to explain, “Yesterday dawn, at around 4 am, Duri found him near our border property in the far south. He was unconscious which seemed to have resulted from him driving straight into a tree ahead. Duri brought him to our home immediately. We have an in-house doctor who treated him but he hasn’t regained consciousness since. The doctor has informed us that he is out of any life-threatening danger. He just needs to regain his consciousness. So don’t worry. He is doing better than you are giving him credit for.”

She smiled at you but you couldn’t help but feel anxious. You glanced at Jeongguk for a mere second and asked, “Wouldn’t it be better to take him to a hospital now instead of just waiting? I am sorry. I am not trying to undermine your doctor’s judgment but it’s just that a hospital seems to be a more efficient option. So if you don’t mind, please can you tell your attendants to show me where Jeongguk’s car is? I think it'd be better if I get going right now.”

The room was dimly lit by a candle lamp and the sunlight was playing hide and seek with the room by seeping in through the heavily drawn curtains which were slowly quivering because of the wind trying to get inside from outside.

In that flickering light you felt like you saw the lady’s face harden for a split second before easing into an almost condescending smile, “Oh dear, you mustn’t have properly heard what I was saying earlier. I can understand. Grief, anxiety, stress do that to people. His car had driven straight ahead into a tree so it’s severely damaged. A mechanic is currently working on it in one of our warehouses.”

“Then can I at least use your phone to call an ambulance? I think that’d be an even better option anyway. He’ll start getting treatment on the way.”

“We don’t have cellular networks here. Neither do we have a landline connection. You must have noticed that there are no electric wires near our mansion. In case of emergencies, Duri himself has to go and bring back any expert needed. I am afraid we live an exceptionally solitary life. If we had a car we could have arranged for his transportation at the earliest hour but as you can tell we are very old fashioned so we only use horses and carriages which I daresay is not the best option to have him ride on in this condition. I would suggest you to save your worry and hope that his car gets repaired soon. I’ll leave you be until then.”

The lady, without sparing another glance, walked out of the room, leaving you wondering if you said something that offended her greatly.

You couldn’t understand why this household would choose to live in such helpless conditions when the world has progressed so much. What if there was a life or death situation? They wouldn’t even be able to get some help.

You sighed heavily and dragging a chair you sat near Jeongguk. You thought it would be best to just wait for his car to get repaired then get out of here as soon as possible. The people here had already gone out of their way for your boyfriend. It was rude of you to question and tell them what would be better when they were already doing their best with everything at their disposal.

You held your boyfriend’s hand, which felt colder than it did a moment ago and said, “I should say sorry, right? I’ll be right back.”

You placed a chaste kiss on his hand and pulled the comforter upto his neck before leaving the room to look for the lady of the house and also for the doctor; Jeongguk’s temperature wasn’t normal.

The living room was empty. In fact, you didn’t get the hint of anybody being present throughout your way. You felt like you were the only one in the entire mansion.

There was an eerie feeling that sat in your gut and just to confirm that weird suspicion, you ran back to the room where Jeongguk was. You let out a quick relieved sigh as soon as you saw Jeongguk, just as you had left him.

You let your body let itself find comfort in the cushiony chair and you decided to look for others a little later. You told yourself that no matter how detached this place was from the rest of the world, the people living here still have work to do. They couldn’t loiter around some unannounced guest all the time.

•••

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, the atmosphere was quite grim for Lady Ruth Livingston and her loyal servant Duri.

This kitchen was located in an extended part of the mansion, outside the main building and could only be accessed through a secret passage built along the rear side wall of the building. Apparently, according to her husband, Mr. Yi Jaejoong, kitchen inside a home ruins the vibe of the home. The secret passageway, while serving as a regular route for the servants for accessing the different parts of the manor like the kitchens, the laundry rooms and the servant quarters, also served the role of an escapeway and had a backdoor for emergency exit if there was any danger. Although, there was no way of telling the back door from the outside since it was camouflaged with the entire wall — much like the windows that were lined up with the windows of the main living room, creating optical illusions of a singular wall in place of two.

After leaving you alone inside the mansion, Lady Ruth had immediately made her way towards the kitchen with a grave expression on her face. As soon as she neared the kitchen, Duri, who was preparing meat for jjigae, brought the cushioned mahogany chair that was only used by his owner and kept it near the entrance, outside the kitchen — for the lady had a deep distaste for heat.

“Are you quite done with the preparations?” Lady Ruth asked after taking her seat.

Duri, who had immediately taken his position near his lady’s feet, sat kneeling down while supporting his hips on his ankles for some comfort.

He slowly shook his head and answered, “Not really, milady. It seems preparing physical food is quite the task.”

“Then summon some minions and get it done at the earliest. The lass is getting on my nerves. I can’t figure out how she ended up here!”

“Surely, milady.” Duri gave a polite nod.

“Are you keeping something from me?” Seeing his owner leaning towards him, Duri gulped and then stuttered, “I- I saw her last night driving past the station.”

“Did you do what you were supposed to?” With her face awfully close to Duri’s, she ran a single line with her cold index finger from near Duri’s ear across, over his jaw line.

“I d- did, milady. But she never stopped for gas!” Noticing the little tremors running through Duri’s hand, Lady Ruth smirked.

“Must I remind you that your job is to lead people into the Devil’s Crest no matter how! You must feed them or their belongings. If you don’t do your job properly how am I supposed to take care of myself? You are not supposed to slack off, Duri. See what happened, just because you let someone off the hook and they didn’t stop at your stupid little gas station! This must mean you have let a good number of souls just go by without me knowing!”

Duri’s lips trembled. “I… I- I am extremely sorry, milady. It won’t ever happen again. P- Please I beg for your forgiveness.”

“Oh, Duri… I wish it was this easy for me to forgive. One must punish disobedient pets to make sure they don’t repeat the same mistake twice. You have been ignorant while knowing what I feel. And more times than you should be forgiven for. I think I must remind you again what it feels like to be me so you could be more diligent next time.”

Lady Ruth Livingston snaked her left hand behind Duri’s neck and held his jaw firmly with her other hand and placed her lips on his. In her firm hold, Duri couldn’t protest. He closed his eyes as he felt her tongue touch his and her fingers pressed on the binding emblem on his neck. Duri winced as a fast burning sensation spread across his entire body. The mild sensation soon turned into a blazing fire all over his body. Duri’s screams got lost somewhere inside Lady Ruth’s mouth.

By the time it ended, Duri had no energy to even stay seated. In barely a minute, he was half his usual body and his skin developed new wrinkles.

Looking at Duri’s wheezing body on the floor, Lady Ruth wiped her lips and said, “My husband would have been so heartbroken if he saw me shoving my tongue down some other man’s throat.” She smiled and gently stroked Duri’s hair, “I am so glad that he is dead.”

Duri weakly glanced at her but couldn’t say anything.

Seeing him like that, Lady Ruth got up and said, “My poor Duri. I’ll summon the minions in your stead to have the lunch prepared in time. She has a strong aura. Her distress will ease my pain like no other.”

•••

“When do you think you’ll be able to come and visit my parents?” You asked and smiled bashfully, imagining Jeongguk asking your parents for your hand in marriage.

“I seriously can’t wait, babe. I just want to run to you right now and take you in my arms and kiss you until you get tired of it!” Jeongguk exclaimed, hardly being able to contain his happiness or excitement.

“You mean until forever ends?” You replied.

“Mhm. Yes, that’s exactly how long I am planning.” You could feel Jeongguk’s smile through the call.

“You have to get here first though.”

“I’m getting out right now! How am I going to wait for seven whole hours? Hm? My sweetest wifey?”

“Woah. Not yet, mister.”

“Soon to be. Soon to be~.”

“Yes… Very soon. But you don't have to rush. You can just come here on the weekend. Otherwise your boss will give you an earful.”

“But-”

“No ‘buts’. I promise I'll be fine. And it's just three days anyways.”

“Hmph. Okay. Fine. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

That fateful morning everything in your little world in Moore Estate changed when you found out you were pregnant. When you called Jeongguk to let him know, he reciprocated the same happiness as you felt. You felt like a large part of your empty heart was filling up.

But soon everything took an upsetting turn when you received a call from Hoseok’s sister that same evening about Hoseok going missing.

A couple of months ago Hoseok had moved into a mansion in the outskirts that a long-distance uncle of his had left for him in his will. Hoseok had been in a hurry to move out and get married so he had leaped at the offer and wanted to move in as soon as possible to remodel the mansion. After that, communication with him gradually became scarce which you just ruled out as him being busy remodeling the house.

You wanted to visit his mansion right away but when you called Jeongguk to let him know about the situation he strictly opposed it and insisted on accompanying you there.

Your estate fell on the way to Hoseok’s new place, though it was still a considerable distance away. So you had suggested to Jeongguk to pick you up from your estate and then both of you could go there together.

Now all of it screamed wrong decision and you blamed yourself for not warning your boyfriend beforehand.

•••

“Excuse me, milady. Her grace is waiting for you in the living room. Please let me lead you. We have prepared some refreshments.” Your remorseful revisitation to that day was interrupted by Duri who was standing at the door.

“Sure.” You got up. You looked back at Jeongguk and said, “I’ll be right back.”

You followed Duri — who appeared a bit worn out and definitely older than he seemed that morning — to the living room. You sat on a two seater sofa opposite the lady of the house; the ornate low table in front of you was filled with a huge variety of cookies and a cup of ginseng tea was kept in front of you.

“I am really sorry. I feel like it was really rude of me how I talked to you earlier. You are not obliged to but you are still helping us so much. I can’t even begin to thank you. Please tell me how I can make it up to you?” You said, thinking it was only fair to apologise since she only offered what she thought was best.

“We can start with introductions. I am Ruth Amelia Livingston.” Lady Ruth took her cup of tea from the table and signalled you to take yours before taking a sip.

You stammered before answering, surprised at her instant acceptance of your apology, “S- sure. I am Park Sowon.”

“That’s a beautiful name. I have never really liked my name, so my husband always lovingly called me Balam. He used to say that I am ungraspable like the wind.” Putting the hot cup on the plate in her left hand she smiled sadly.

“Used to? He doesn’t anymore?” You asked without thinking.

“Well, yes. I wish you could meet him. He was a jolly man. When he was alive, this building felt alive too. He took its life with him when he left for the afterworld.”

“I am sorry… for your loss. It must be really hard losing the love of your life… I can’t even begin to imagine how I am going to continue to live on if something happens to Jeongguk.” Your voice cracked remembering the fact that you almost did.

“Well, you learn to live with the pain… I loved him alright. But he… loved me more. I daresay I am rather thankful that he didn’t live to see my death.” Her nonchalant words left you momentarily speechless.

Before the atmosphere could get awkward you said, smiling thinly, “Accepting to be in sorrow rather than letting your loved one live in that situation is an act of tremendous love in itself. I think you love your husband as much as he used to.”

“Oh my, aren’t you a charmer? Thank you, dear. You are the first person whose words comforted me so deeply since my husband’s passing.” She kept her right hand on yours and looked at you with a warm smile, unlike her frigid hands; you noticed her tears staying at the edge of her eyelid margin.

“I think I should apologise too.” She continued after sitting straight.

You looked at her questioningly while picking up the third cookie from the plate.

“As I told you earlier, we live in a completely different world than yours. And I was inconsiderate of your feelings, quite shamefully so. You were right in getting worried. And I only thought of how I have always handled things here. I am sorry for that.”

“No please, it’s alright. I can see your point of view now. Thank you for being so kind again.” You paused. Something stirred inside you, like a big sadness that had been dormant for a long time at the bottom of your heart seeping out slowly.

“Actually, I have lost someone precious to me too, a long time ago, in a very similar incident. Perhaps that’s the reason why I have been so sensitive.”

You glanced at her as if you needed a moment before uttering the words, “It was my father.” The last word got mingled with the sadness stuck in your throat.

“Oh dear, what happened to him?” Lady Ruth kept her empty cup on the table and looked at you with concern.

You looked at her but your eyes couldn’t see her anymore — you were taken back to the time that you hated remembering the most.

•••

Winter was just beginning to settle itself in the early October air when one night your dad had suddenly showed up at your boarding school and filled out a form requesting your emergency leave for a week.

Be it for his whimsical nature or his adventurous mind, on numerous occasions he had taken you to many such impromptu trips. Despite being so used to such endeavours of your most favourite person in the world, your fifteen year old self couldn’t help but take notice of the anxiousness that his face wore that night. You knew almost instantaneously that this wasn’t one of your trips.

After an hour-long train ride from the city, you got off at the nearest train station from your locality. But as soon as you did so, your dad took you directly to the car parked in the parking lot of the station — which was unusual since your dad always bought you pretzels from a particular store after getting off there.

Luckily, unlike other times you didn’t feel hungry as an old lady with long white hair who was sitting on the opposite seat to yours offered two cookies each to you and your dad, but your dad being too anxious to eat had given you his share as well.

“We don’t have much time so I am going to step on it, alright? Hold tight.” Your dad had said before racing straight into the shortcut that no one knew the name of and no one bothered to keep one either — for everyone it was just a shortcut that everyone should avoid.

Why is dad taking this dark road? You couldn’t help but feel concerned.

The only things that provided little comfort were that it was your dad you were with, and the speed at which he was driving to take you home soon.

Soon you had passed the very same gas station that you had no idea that you would be crossing again eleven years later.

Your dad had told you some things about the gas station that you took as nothing more than a joke to lighten the atmosphere.

When you reached home at around 2am, the churning feeling inside your gut gave away its reason for being.

You saw your mom, your aunt-in-law, your grandparents and all the people that worked in your estate gathered in the hallroom with grave expressions. As soon as you entered the room your grandmother had taken you into her embrace and weeped.

“What’s going on?” You had asked.

Before anyone could answer you, you felt your dad’s hand on your shoulder and you turned around. He sat you on the sofa and crouching down on his knee he held your hands, “Sweetheart, your uncle is missing along with his friend… And I must go find them and bring them back.”

“But what about the police?”

“It’s my responsibility… I must be the one to go. The police won’t be of much help anyways. Don’t worry, I will surely bring them back. You just have to be the absolute sweetheart as you are and stay with your mom, alright?” Saying so, your dad stood up and with a slight nod at everyone, he walked out of the house.

You couldn’t stand watching him go away like that so you yanked your hand out of your mom’s and ran after him.

He was just about to get into his car but he stopped when he heard you call him. You ran and hugged him tightly, “Take me with you, please dad. It will be faster if we look together, won’t it? I am sure we will be able to spot them quicker and be back home even before dawn breaks. Dad? Please say something!”

Your dad broke himself out of your hug and sat on the car seat. He gently wiped the tears off of your face and kissed your forehead and murmured, “My sweet angel… I have already put your uncles in danger because of my foolishness… How can I put you in a similar situation when I know what might lie ahead…”

His words sent an uneasy fear down your spine but he didn’t let you question him. Instead he immediately held your arms and looked into your eyes with a serious expression, “Promise me, you'll never take the shortcut after midnight! And even if you do you won't stop anywhere in the middle. And no matter what happens you won't take the road to Devil's Crest!”

You shook your head, “Only if you promise to come back by morning.”

Your dad smiled sadly and nodded, “Yeah. I’ll be back soon.”

You wiped his tears gently and as the other family members started to come out, you quickly whispered, “It’s not your fault, dad.”

Seeing the others, he hurriedly got into his car. He placed a chaste kiss on the back of your hand and before driving off he said, “I love you, sweetheart.”

Your “I love you too” subsided in the ground with the descending mist.

•••

You lowered your face into your palms trying to stop the streaming of warm tears into your warm hands.

You had no idea when Lady Ruth had sat beside you but when you felt her hand gently stroking your hair and back, you looked up at her and wiped your wet cheeks, “I am sorry. I didn’t mean to bawl my eyes out like this.” You chuckled, “It’s just that I suddenly miss him so much.”

Lady Ruth smiled awkwardly, “Do you know why people avoid the shortcut?”

You shook your head.

“There’s a rumour that plagues this area… that a witch haunts the shortcut road and its surroundings. That she takes people's souls to feed herself. Many people have gone missing over the years, fueling the rumour, eventually forcing people to avoid this area altogether.”

“Have you seen that witch?” You asked as goosebumps lined your skin.

Lady Ruth scoffed, “No, I haven’t. Though Duri has witnessed some gruesome murders by poachers who come to the forest to hunt for the rare pangolins but encounter humans instead. Sometimes one or two lucky humans make it out of their harsh luck…” She paused. Then looking in your eyes she said, “Eleven years ago one such human sought refuge in our home. He was badly injured and he did his best to hold up for a week. But we couldn’t avoid the misfortune. His… name was Park Yunseok.”

For a moment you felt like there was a heavy stone placed on your head and you were drowning. You couldn’t breath and your ears rang a constant tone.

Your face contorted as you dug up the word from inside your throat, “D-Dad?”

“I am afraid so…” Lady Ruth said. “Would you like to visit his grave?”

Did you? You didn’t have the courage — neither to find the answer to your question, nor to face your father’s resting place.

But I should. Otherwise how would your dad feel that you came this near and didn’t visit him?

“I should.” You replied.

“Yeah.” Lady Ruth smiled faintly and stroked your hair one more time before getting up.

You walked behind Lady Ruth and Duri as they led you to the south-east part of their property. After walking for a few minutes through their immaculately taken care of and beautifully designed garden, you reached a small perfectly mowed yard. At the end of the yard, there was a small patch of land that was covered in gerbera daisies and in the middle you saw your dad’s grave housed in marble and an epitaph - rising a foot above the ground - that said —

HERE LIES THE MAN WHO GRACED THE EARTH WITH THE SMILE MOST BEAUTIFUL

PARK YUNSEOK

PUT TO REST - 17 OCTOBER OF YEAR 2131

You sat beside his grave and smiled looking at the daisies surrounding it, “He must have told you about his favourite flower..” You looked up at Lady Ruth and said, “Thank you. I know he… likes it here.”

You looked down immediately to hide your fresh batch of tears and requested quickly, “Can I have a moment with him alone, please?”

“Of course, my dear. We’ll be going back to the house. Take your time.” You didn’t look up as you nodded but you could feel them leaving.

A few minutes passed with you staring at the ground then you slowly looked to your back to make sure they were far enough.

You slowly looked back and touched the grave — first with just the tip of your fingers and then with your palm. Despite the sun over your head the stone was cold and you started stroking it gently.

“Dad… Is it cold in there? I am sorry… I couldn’t arrange for your cremation or hold a proper funeral for you. Still I am glad that you met some decent people to be there for you in your last moments and they made you a nice place to rest. Don’t worry. I’ll be a good girl and thank them properly.”

You paused to take a deep breath and as it slowly left your lungs in a shaky exhale, your chest hurt as if thousand hammers were going off at once.

The fatigue of all of the years you were looking for your dad came crashing down on you all at once — the memories of going through the tireless four years of nosebleeding university life, becoming an official detective, tolerating the prejudices, swallowing the scoldings for trying to gather information about your dad’s whereabouts, being told off for using police resources and time for personal use and finally quitting the job to look for him independently — like a tsunami.

“Dad…” Another shaky breath escaped your lungs and you couldn’t control your tears anymore. “I am… I am sorry dad… I should have been there for you. It must have been so hard for you to not see any of us in your last moments. I am sorry dad. I wish it was me instead of you. Dad, I miss you so much…” You didn’t care if your voice was going to disturb the noiseless peace around here, you wailed calling your dad and hugged the grave as much as you could. The tears streaming down your cheeks mixed with your running nose wetted the grave and the coldness of the stone felt a little warm.

“Dad.. dad… can’t you ask God for a second chance? Can’t you beg him to send you back in time? That way you could prevent that awful night from happening and you could see me grow up and get married to Jeongguk and play with your grandkids… That way mom wouldn’t be sad and mom wouldn’t marry Jiho and I wouldn’t have to call him ‘dad’... I hate it when mom forces me to call him dad in front of others… I hate it. He is not my dad. No one can ever take your place, dad. Please come back, dad. And tell me that you are proud of me and I grew up just the way you hoped I would. Dad… Dad? Please say something. Call me and wake me up from this nightmare… Dad…” Your breath hitched and you started having trouble breathing because of your blocked nose. The pain in your chest increased and you felt sick in your stomach.

You stood up and ran outside the flower patch and vomited everything that you had eaten a while ago. You felt dizzy and a burning irritation shot up from your throat to your nose to your brain. With weak steps, you reached the grave and hugged it to get some rest and a much sought comfort.

•••

From the window of her bedroom, which was located at the far south-east of the manor, Ruth Livingston was watching you with her vintage brass binoculars. Her lips twitched at its corner and her eyes gleamed in ecstasy.

Never peeling her eyes away from you she addressed her loyal servant Duri who was standing upright by the door and exclaimed, “Tch tch. Poor thing. Crying, wailing, writhing in pain… all on a grave that’s not even real.”

Her laughter resounded throughout her bedroom and she felt an unparalleled joy, “If just watching her like this is this satisfying, then imagine how wonderful I am going to feel when she becomes a part of my collection? She should be ready by now. Go, bring her. I can’t wait anymore.”

“Right away, your grace.” Duri replied and turned to leave.

But right then her shout compelled Duri to turn back around instantaneously, “NO! No no no! Don’t! Don’t ruin my happiness, you disgusting vile little rat! Duri! Look at her! She is vomiting all the feeds! She is emptying her guts on my beautiful flower beds! Bring her back at once!”

•••

You must have fallen asleep after getting tired because of the physical and emotional toll all the crying took on your body. When you woke up you found yourself lying down on the couch in Jeongguk’s room.

You sat up slowly and softly placed your palms on your swollen eyes. The darkness of the room made you wonder how long you have been out of it.

Jeongguk was still unconscious. As you watched him from your position it was hard to even tell whether he was breathing or not.

You got up and sat near Jeongguk. His body temperature was still on the colder perimeter; the only thing that somewhat assured you was his slow breathing.

You held his hand as tears accumulated in your eyes again.

I don’t think I can survive losing someone again.

•••

“Ah! This is so amusing! Ha ha ha!” Swaying in her armchair, Ruth Livingston laughed like she hadn't in a very long time.

“Duri, you never told me it was this enthralling to catch prey! I am thinking of joining you from now on. On that note, prepare a scrumptious feast for her. I want her to be well fed so that she has the energy to cry a little more! Ah! I didn't expect her to react like that… Now I have to make another miscarriage potion, which is going to take a while. It’s a little setback that I cannot have her with an untainted soul living inside her but that only means I can play with her a little longer. Prepare that thing beforehand so I can give it to her after lunch.”

Duri bowed deeply and silently left the room to carry out the order he was given.

•••

When you were at the hospital, a few years back, because of appendix surgery, the nurses and the doctors constantly came to check up on you and feed you medicine at designated times. What reminded you of that time was the fact that it had been almost seven hours since you came here and you hadn't seen the doctor — that lady Ruth doted on so much — visit Jeongguk even for once!

It was worrisome. You didn't want to keep Jeongguk in such a neglectful situation when you didn't have any idea how severe his injuries were.

His body was getting colder by the minute and his appearance turned paler; it didn't even feel like a living person's body anymore.

I have to pressure the mechanic myself to repair Jeongguk's car within today, preferably before the sun sets.

You kept Jeongguk's hand down by his side gently and got out of the room. Duri was standing right outside the door which startled you. As soon as he saw you he politely said, “It’s time for lunch, milady. I have come to escort you.”

“Oh! Thank you, sir.” You replied immediately.

Tch! I should have denied and asked him to lead me to the mechanic.

“Please call me Duri. I am not to be addressed as ‘sir’ by a guest of this manor.” Duri said in his usual stoic manner.

You didn’t want to argue on ways this household worked so you just decided to ask him about the whereabouts of the mechanic instead, “Oh… Okay. By the way, Duri, can you tell me where the warehouse is where Jeongguk’s car is getting fixed?”

There was a moment’s pause before he replied, “I must have her grace’s permission before taking you there, milady. You can ask her for yourself at the table.”

“That I shall do then.” You replied and nodded your head to yourself.

You were led into the dining room where Lady Ruth was already seated. The long and finely polished Indian rosewood dining table with a capacity to seat fourteen people, in the middle of the room, painted in a combination of matte orange and Carolina blue, had long fallen from its prime with only Lady Ruth being its sole user.

It was indeed a surprise to you — you didn’t know what you were expecting but it was certainly not her words being true about the only three residents of this vast mansion.

I would be out of my wits if I had to live alone like this in a single place.

After you took your seat, Duri started bringing in dishes one by one and it felt like his trips from the food trolley to the dining table were never ending. Before long, the table was filled with delicacies, most of which you were seeing for the first time.

“Please dig in. Duri here is no less than a Michelin chef.” Lady Ruth said with a proud smile.

Your eyes travelled over all the dishes that covered the table and you couldn’t imagine how Duri managed to prepare all these single handedly in such a short time especially taking into consideration the fact that it took you at least one hour to prepare only three dishes.

You took a bite from the savory appetiser placed right in front of you. Your head immediately turned towards Duri who was standing by the food trolley and you exclaimed with big eyes, “Duri, this is seriously so delicious! With this skill you should consider becoming a professional chef! You would totally kill it!”

A bewildered expression flashed on Lady Ruth’s face which you luckily caught instantly and you corrected yourself immediately, “I mean not literally kill anything. It’s a figure of speech that people use nowadays to say that someone would be outstandingly good at something. Ha ha. Please don’t misunderstand.”

There wasn’t much of a muscle movement on Duri’s face and you were relieved when you saw the proud smile on her lips returning, “That’s a dangerous figure of speech. Anyway, I told you so. Though I don’t know if he’ll be wanting to leave me alone here.”

You quickly glanced at Duri, then to Lady Ruth and said, “I am sure he isn’t willing to.”

Lady Ruth didn’t say anything but the smile did grow a little.

You waited for a moment to pass before asking, “By the way, your grace, if possible I would like to meet the mechanic to know how the repair is going. Gguk’s… I mean Jeongguk’s condition is worsening and I am sorry if I sound rude but I haven’t seen your doctor visit him even once since I arrived…”

Lady Ruth swallowed the food in her mouth and looked at Duri, “Duri?”

“Doctor Jung stopped by twice to check on Miss Park’s boyfriend since morning — once when your graces were having tea and the second time when Miss Park was not conscious. He also checked up on Miss Park while he was there and said that he’d talk to her when she is awake.” All this while Duri answered looking at Lady Ruth and his eyes never wavered your way, not even when he mentioned your name in front of you as if you were not present in the same room. His behaviour was telling you how insignificant you were to a mere servant of this manor and that you should watch how you speak with the master of this very manor. You couldn’t refute, as the guilt of your own words felt heavier on your tongue than the insult on your chest.

“I am sorry. I didn’t know.” You managed to raise your voice a notch higher than a mumble.

“Please don’t worry about it. People behave in a lot of ways when they are not informed about certain situations. Especially when they are desperate. So I can understand you. Duri will take you to the warehouse after lunch. Please finish your meal.” After saying this to you with her voice as calm as ever she went back to eating.

Both of you ate silently, and soon you had finished everything that was served to you, which was, considering your regular eating capacity, quite excessive.

After the table was cleared, you were led to the living room. Duri brought an envelope on a small tray. Lady Ruth took the envelope and handed it to you and said, “Your father… left this with us.”

Even before you could open the envelope, tears accumulated in your eyes. You sat down and wiped your wet eyes before taking out the note.

It was a short letter written on a torn diary page.

My sweet angel, the light of my life,

Please forgive this cruel dad of yours for not keeping the promise he made. I am sorry that I had to leave like that and now… I am leaving again… I wish I could see you one last time.

The letter ended abruptly. You flipped to see if there’s anything more but there wasn’t. You checked the envelope and found a polaroid inside it which was a picture of you and him, that was taken on your fifth birthday picnic, that he always kept in his wallet.

The heaviness inside your throat was back again and you found it hard to breathe. Not wanting to put the burden of consoling you on your hosts, you said as your voice trembled, “I’ll excuse myself to Jeongguk’s room. Sorry.”

You darted out of there and couldn’t notice the slight nod that Lady Ruth gave you, nor the light crooked smile that formed on her lips.

Entering the room, you closed the door behind you and let yourself slide down its length. Your chest hurt. The pain hung on your rib cages like rotten branches and no matter how much you pounded on them to make them go away, they didn’t. Defeated, you hugged your knees close to yourself and cried on them and there was only one thought that reverberated throughout your brain.

Dad, please come back.

In search of comfort, you went to sit on the chair kept beside Jeongguk. Holding his cold hands you kept your head on the bed. Your fingers fiddled with his pale ones and your unceasing tears wetted his bedsheet. You wished he would wake up any time now and would hug you until you felt better.

Your tears slowed down as minutes went by and your line of vision got clearer. But the person who came in after swinging the door open with all his might made you rub your eyes for a good moment to get the clearest view because how the hell is Hoseok here?

You sat up straight but you were too dumbstruck to stand up and react in a way you would when you saw him normally.

“Wonwon! Are you okay? Does it hurt anywhere? Wonwon speak to me!” You could faintly hear him enquire you while checking your pulse. You were too busy processing the sense of familiarity that you had been seeking all this while to answer him. The sound of his nickname for you — that he had given you when you two were just little kids with runny noses in preschool because pronouncing ‘Sowon’ was too much for him — fell on your ears like holding a warm mug of cocoa in a freezing winter evening.

When the layer of daze wore off you hugged him tightly and exclaimed, “I am… totally fine… now! I am just so so happy to see you, Hoba! So happy! Are you even real? I am not seeing things, am I? How are you even here in the first place?”

Hoseok sighed in relief and breaking out of your hug he smiled, “What do you mean ‘how’? I live here!”

After he made you sit back on the chair he sat on the floor and said, “I sent you my address, don’t you remember?”

Hearing him say that, you finally remembered the text he sent you with his location just before moving in — The Balam Manor, Witch’s Cradle.

No wonder the name seemed so familiar when you read it initially at the entrance.

But you still had many questions that needed to be answered so you asked him, “I remember now. But your sister called and told me that they couldn’t reach you for many days. You must have sent them your location, haven’t you?”

“Really?” Hoseok looked puzzled. “I have sent them my location, I remember for sure. Have they gone to the wrong place? And moreover, I couldn’t reach them for a few days now, so I was thinking of visiting them, but we found Jeongguk and I couldn’t just leave him like this.”

“Wait, Hoba! You said you inherited this mansion and you were going to renovate it… Then what’s Lady Ruth doing here?”

“Oh… that?” Hoseok smiled awkwardly; you thought he even looked a little sad. “There’s been a mix up. I did inherit it kind of but Aunty Ruth, my uncle’s wife, is still alive, and even though uncle had written it off to me, aunty still has some right on it so it was decided that this floor will be aunty’s for as long as she lives. And the remaining floors above, that is, the first and second, are mine.”

“Are you okay? What about Ji-a? Is she okay with this?” You asked.

“Well, you know her. She is a bit taken aback. But the good thing is that she said she will prepare her mind about this situation and join me in a few days and help me with the renovations.”

“Well Ji-a has always been a sensible one!” You smiled.

“Just like her boyfriend.” Hoseok smiled smugly.

“Yeah, of course.” You scoffed and rolled your eyes.

“So you are the in-house doctor that Lady Ruth mentioned!” You squinted your eyes playfully at Hoseok.

“Is that how she talked about me?” He asked. “Well, can’t blame her. She didn’t know that we knew each other. Not gonna lie that I don’t feel a little bad though… She still hasn't fully accepted me. That’s understandable as well. Imagine someone you never heard of comes and says that your dead husband has given your home to them! I would totally go berserk. She still is willing to cooperate.”

“Yeah…” Your voice trailed off. After Hoseok’s comment about ‘dead husband’ you could barely pay attention to what he was saying as your eyes wandered to Jeongguk and the ache in your chest was back.

Hoseok followed your eyes and held your hands, “Wonwon… don’t worry. He has made it out of the most critical phase. Just give him some time, he will get better. I am taking care of him.”

“Hoba…” Your voice trembled as you looked back at your best friend. “I don’t doubt your skill but look at him… How much more time do you think we should spend on just letting him lie down here like this? He is getting paler and colder. If it wasn’t for his slow breaths I would have thought I had lost him… Please Hoba, we have to get him to a hospital!”

Your words put Hoseok in deep thought. After a brief moment of silence he sighed and said, “You are right. No matter how much effort I put in it won’t be enough. There’s no suitable equipment here as there would be in a hospital. I heard Jeongguk’s car is in the warehouse. Do you want to go check on its status?”

You stood up immediately and said, “That’s what I have been trying to do since before lunch! Let’s go at once!”

“Let me lead you there, milady.” Hoseok smiled.

“I see Duri has rubbed off on you.” You laughed. And Hoseok laughed back and tried to mimic Duri, “Is that so, milady?”

The warehouse was behind the manor in the north. It was a big wooden building, or one could say a humongous room with a slanting wooden roof that could house at least twenty SUV cars with enough space to open doors fully in between them. It seemed like a total waste of space to see a single car with a tattered front being repaired at the side.

When you two walked up to the car, a person wearing a grey vest and black mechanic pants emerged from under the vehicle.

Seeing you two, he got up and waved at Hoseok, “Hey, Dr. Jung! Good to see you!”

His accent was of the city that suddenly felt so out of place here and no matter how much you tried to shake it off, you couldn’t help but think that he looked like the Korean version of Vin Diesel.

Hoseok extended his hand for a handshake but he refused, showing his hands laced with car grease and oil. Then he asked Hoseok with a smile, “And who this pretty lady here might be?”

“She is the girlfriend of the owner of the car you are fixing, Park Sowon.” Hoseok answered him.

“Ouch! There goes my chance for a date night. Anyways, it’s a pleasure to meet you Sowon-ssi! This humble man’s name is Lim Seokga. But you can lovingly call me Seok.” He smiled and bowed like a gentleman.

“It’s nice to meet you too Seokga-ssi.” In reality all you wanted to say was - You are a mile away from humbleness Mr. Lim, like you should be from me.

You bowed back slightly and smiled awkwardly. You looked at Hoseok and pleaded with your eyes to rescue you from these unsolicited flirtations.

He seized your signal like a spy would from his fellow in espionage and he grinned at Seokga and pretended to whisper as if he was trying to be his wingman, “Seokga-ssi, Sowon-ssi is a bit tense right now. Why don’t you show off your skills and explain the condition of the car to her?”

Seokga gave Hoseok a smirk of approval and turned around to face the dinged up car. You noticed a symbol that almost looked like a fancy tattoo branded on his neck that started at the top of his neck and ran a couple inches along his spine. The burnt mark seemed sizzling fresh as if he had it done a few minutes ago and somehow you could feel the pain that it must have inflicted to come into existence.

Seokga kept his hand on the bonnet of the car and started explaining, “Anyways, Sowon-ssi, date night or not, I must do my job. You have come to know about the condition of the car, right? In short terms, it’s not really good. I am quite embarrassed to say this but it can only be repaired at the showroom. It’s not a one person job.”

You felt anger bubble up at the pit of your throat. You felt like you had been standing in a long queue for half a day in front of an empty shop.

You tried to sound as calm as you could, “So you're telling me you have been working on this car for a full day knowing that you can’t fix it?”

“Full day? I arrived just this morning! And I never said I can’t fix it. I said I need manpower and the facilities.” Seokga tried to defend his honour behind his cheeky answer.

You knew better than to argue with a man like him.

“Ridiculous!” You muttered under your breath and gritted teeth before leaving the warehouse with hurried strides.

When you walked in, Lady Ruth was in the living room instructing Duri about the arrangement of your stay for the night.

“I am afraid, your grace, I don’t think I can stay for the night. If I take off now I can bring an ambulance back with me at earliest tonight.” You announced.

Lady Ruth stared at you for a good few seconds as if trying to make sense of the nonsense you just sputtered out.

“I think that would have been for the best. He needs better care but I am afraid I have some bad news for you. It seems that a tempest is expected this evening. I don’t think it would be wise to set out now.” She said calmly.

The bewilderment from a moment ago hadn’t yet dissipated from within you and hearing this now, you felt terribly angry, as if you were being held captive. You looked out the window and exclaimed, “The weather seems totally fine to me! There isn’t even a single dark cloud in the sky yet! It didn’t take me long to reach here. I am certain if you don’t stall me further I will be able to make it out of here before the storm catches up!”

You looked at Lady Ruth, who was staring at you with an unreadable expression. It was as if she wasn’t present there at the moment. You stood there like you had just yelled at your mother and couldn’t decide whether you should apologise or not.

You felt a light jab at your side and you looked at Hoseok who was signalling you to apologise, which made you realise that you had strangely forgotten about his existence for the past few minutes.

It’s like someone put several ice cubes on your hot head and the fizzing sensation urged you to apologise for your unnecessary rudeness to the lady who was everything but helping you.

You turned to look at Lady Ruth whose expression gave the impression that she was back to this room.

“I- I am sorry, your grace… I didn’t mean to say it like that. It’s just that the mechanic really got on my nerves and I involuntarily took out my frustration on you. I apologise for being an impudent brat.”

You waited for her to reply and a few seconds passed when suddenly an intensely bright lightning struck the ground outside followed by a deafening sound which made you jump out of your skin and you felt goosebumps all over.

Heavy rainfall soon followed, accompanied with mad gusts of wind and roaring thunder. Duri, with quick steps, closed all the windows and disappeared down the right hallway to probably close the rest of the windows. Seeing him, you ran to Jeongguk’s room to close the window.

Rain was wetting the curtains and there was already a pool forming on the floor. You scurried over to close the window sills. There were a number of things you should consider when walking on a wet floor and the first one was to never hurry, which you did, and the next thing you knew was that you slipped and hit something real hard — the pain at the back of your head was the last thing you felt before blacking out.

Your consciousness started coming back to you slowly, like a weekend morning after a good night’s sleep. You pulled the blanket closer to you as you let yourself stay like that in the comfort of the bed. In the back of your head, you felt like you were forgetting something. Then it dawned upon you like a weekday morning after a late night’s sleep. You sat up abruptly and stayed like that for a couple minutes to let your brain return to normal from the sudden dizziness.

You slowly got out of the bed and noticed that you were wearing an off-white lace full-sleeved midi nightgown. The back of your head hurt and you had a bandage wrapped around your head. Instinctively, you touched your head while looking around the beige and sage green themed bedroom — it was well-lit with candles and it didn’t have any windows so you couldn’t tell what hour of the day it was. The shock made you run into the bathroom attached to the room. In the mirror you saw yourself and thought no wonder your head felt so light — there was not a single strand of hair on your head.

What the fuck! How could they?

You left the room to find Hoseok to get an explanation behind your shaved head, and you noticed that you had been in the room next to Jeongguk’s. The hallway was lit with fire torches, and through the window at the end of the hallway you could see that it was already night and the rain was still falling, although its vigour had lessened a lot from before.

You slowly walked into Jeongguk’s room. The floor was dry and in the light of the candles Jeongguk’s pale body looked livelier than he looked that afternoon. His breaths seemed more stable now.

You sat near him and softly brushed his hair with your fingers and whispered, “Please wake up soon. I can’t do this without you.”

You walked through the torch-lighted hallway to find Hoseok. You passed the living room and entered the right hallway. The very first room had its door open and it seemed like a study. You saw Lady Ruth in a dark green silk maxi nightgown half-lying on a dark brown wool sofa reading a thick book.

You thought that it would be better to ask her about Hoseok’s whereabouts than wandering these colossal halls yourself. You knocked on the door to get her attention and she immediately looked at you and sat up, “Sowon, you are up! Please come in!”

You entered the room and sat on one of the two single-seater sofas.

The room was brown themed and smelt of old books and wood. Three of its walls, including the one that had the entrance, had ceiling-touching wooden shelves full of books. The fourth wall opposite to the entrance, was filled with framed photographs, a fireplace and an olive coloured small door at the far left that was smaller than any door you had seen so far in the house. It was almost head-to-head with Lady Ruth.

“Why did you come all the way here by yourself? You should be taking a rest now. Hoseok would be upset if he sees you out of your bed.” She said with concern.

“I was looking for him actually…” You murmured, unable to talk in your normal volume.

“He went to his room a while back and said he will be down for dinner. Duri is still not done yet, it seems. Are you hungry? Can you wait a bit more?”

“Yes.. I don’t mind..” You murmured again.

You couldn’t figure out the strange nervousness that you felt and you noticed that you were fidgeting your fingers and your legs were shaking and the air sat heavy on your upper body as sweat droplets formed on your forehead.

“I must say you don’t look all that bad with all your hair gone. When Hoseok suggested shaving your whole head to stitch the wound, saying that you would hate having a bald spot on your head I couldn’t really agree. After all, a lady's beauty is in her hair!”

You were not really paying attention to what she was saying so you just smiled awkwardly and wiped the sweat on your forehead with a shaky hand. You couldn’t form an answer as you were completely taken over by the weirdness you felt in your body, and you felt strangely attracted towards the wall that had the small door.

You stood up abruptly and asked, “Can I look at the photos on the wall?”

“Sure. Go ahead!”

Getting the permission you swiftly went over to the wall and slowly started going through the pictures. The pictures ranged from old sepia to black and white to evolving coloured ones to aesthetically edited high definition ones — it was as if you were going through the history of photography. The photos were taken in various parts of this very property and most of the pictures were of Lady Ruth, many were of her with a middle aged man that she introduced to you as her late husband, and a few had Duri with her in it. In one such photo your eyes stopped — it was comparatively small, almost the size of your face and it was the only photo with only Duri in it. In it he was looking at a mirror hung up on a wall — he looked much younger, probably in his 30s, and he was looking at his reflection with a smile as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing but he was happy nonetheless. The photo was taken from his back and a similar searing brand was clearly visible on his neck that you saw this afternoon on Seokga’s neck. The photograph was old - perhaps the oldest one here - so you had no way of determining the freshness of the wound.

With a shaky breath you asked, “Wh- What’s behind this door?”

Lady Ruth stared at the door for a moment and mumbled, “My lifeline.” Then she looked back at your puzzled face and said, “Let me give you a tour!”

The door didn’t have a lock nor did it have a handle. Lady Ruth pushed it and it slid open swiftly. Upon crossing the threshold you came upon a scenery which made you feel more speechless than when you visited the Guggenheim museum for the first time.

The wooden shelf that started from the immediate left wall of the door touched the ceiling and when you looked up, its height went on for at least twice the height of the ground floor ceiling.

“Come.” Lady Ruth held your hand and you followed her spellbound.

The shelf ran along the walls and continued in a circle till it couldn’t bend anymore. It was like a mosquito coil but quadrilateral. There were candle lanterns placed at regular intervals so it wasn’t that difficult to see things. The shelf was filled with two different shapes of glass boxes — rectangular and square — and they were innumerable. Each glass box — approximately two feet in length — was separated from the other by a thin wooden ply.

“Wh-What are these?” You asked.

“My collection of miniature places. I make these location miniatures from scratch and Duri brings the glass boxes from outside and I store them in here. I only create two places though. One is the Devil’s Crest and another one is the entire property of this manor.”

“How many exactly are there? They seem countless!” You couldn’t help but express your bewilderment.

“Not quite. There are exactly twenty-seven thousand six hundred and sixty-six worlds!”

“Wow… I am stupefied to say the least!” You exclaimed, feeling your shoulders getting burdened by each step towards the interior.

“I would say that I am proud of myself too. They really help me live.” She smiled and looked at her collection.

When you reached the centre of the room, the shelf ended and there was an ivory table on which an approximately 15 cm tall snowglobe was kept, and it was covered by a tall glass box which reminded you of the rose covered in glass in The Beauty And The Beast.

It was the most breathtaking snowglobe that you had ever seen in your entire life. You went closer to it to take a good look and it made you gasp. Inside the place seemed way too familiar — it was the shortcut road that started from the junction, leaving the actual junction area out of it and ended right before reaching the Moore Estate. The woods surrounding it were in it as well, and what seemed like very tiny versions of a gas station, the Devil’s Crest turning and the entire property of the Balam Manor. What surprised you the most was that it was drizzling inside it just like it was outside.

Lady Ruth could probably tell what you were thinking by your shocked expression so she said, “I know it seems like an unusual piece but it’s nothing really surprising. The snow globe has a mechanism that lets me set its weather inside and I like it when it matches.”

“Can I touch it?” You asked while pointing at it.

Lady Ruth almost jumped at you and grabbed your hand and nervously laughed, “I would rather prefer if you don’t. You see, it was gifted to me by an extremely important someone and it’s very precious to me. It’s what inspired my hobby, ha ha. I don’t let anyone touch it. But you can look at the ones I made! Please.”

Her eyes were pleading you to move away from it. You didn’t want to overstep your boundaries, so you glanced at it one last time and moved away to look at the ones on the shelf.

The shelf had no space left for a new one so you said, “Seems like you have to make space for your future miniatures.”

“Not really. There are always some that end up as no joy for me and when they are discarded new ones fill that space!”

“Oh…” You replied, pretending to understand fully what she said and went back to observing.

The miniature boxes had tiny silver tags at top right corners of each of them and had numbers written on them which seemed like dates followed by letters with no space in between them.

On the bottom shelf there was a miniature of the Devil Crest inside a rectangular glass box whose dimensions were 2ft×1ft×1ft. For some reason you felt attracted towards it, so you squatted down and looked at it intently.

“Here.” Lady Ruth took out a lantern from its holder and handed it to you.

“Thank you.” You replied showing a small smile and went back to observing.

The silver plate on its top left corner read: 21421002306JJ.

It was a bluish dark kind of atmosphere inside as if it would dawn there soon. There was a straight road that ran lengthwise from one end to the other and its entirety was surrounded by woods on both sides that became denser the further it went from the road.

On the right end of the road, placed at least two inches above its base, on the glass case was a neon exit sign.

Right before reaching it the road took a turn and formed a circle of red colour. Something felt off about it so you leaned in closer to take a better look. Then you saw the pitch coloured road that was there from the starting but as it neared the circle it bent left slightly as if making room for the red road and ghostly moved forward towards the exit sign.

The position of the roads were so close that if the roads were the same colour, one might think that the red road was the straight continuation and the pitch road was just another lane, or that the road just got wider.

Then you noticed another weird thing — there was a car on the red road that stood facing the exit sign and it looked exactly like Jeongguk’s car.

“Th- That’s Jeongguk’s car!” You blurted out and looked at Lady Ruth.

“Hm? Oh yes!” Lady Ruth bent forward to look at the miniature and then looking at you she smiled, “Your boyfriend’s car gave me the idea. I think adding this detail puts more life into it! Don’t you think so?”

You nodded reluctantly. It’s making me sick, if anything.

If you were in a bustling place then you would have thought you were hearing things, but the room was so quiet it could hardly be passed as a mistake; you clearly heard it - Jeongguk calling you.

It was very faint but you were sure it was Jeongguk’s voice calling out, “Sowon!”

Multiple times.

You stood up abruptly and exclaimed, “Did you hear that? Jeongguk’s calling me! He must be up! I must go at once!”

You kept the lantern on the floor and ran out of the room.

•••

Jeongguk wasn’t feeling himself. He felt detached from his body. His exhausted body was working under the directions of an adamant mind. A mind that felt itself going crazy and couldn’t register the tired body that was carrying it.

How long had he been walking on this godforsaken road, he didn’t know. He didn’t want to know. He just wanted to reach an ending. The unchanging environment surrounding him clutched his throat but wanted him to go on still.

He couldn’t remember how many times he had already passed his car.

He didn’t know how many times he had broken down in the middle of the road.

He finally stopped to take a sip of water that he was rationing in case he had to stay longer. He sat on the back seat and drank one sip and lied down.

His brain was starting to finally acknowledge the worn out aching body. And along with it a sense of hopelessness, that he was avoiding.

Drops of tears glided down from the side of his eyes — some entered his ears and some detoured into his black hair.

Just then, something unexpected happened - he heard your voice.

It was as if you were talking to somebody not too far from him. And when you spoke his name, he heard it loud and clear.

He sprang up and ran outside and called out your name, with all the strength in his body, “Sowon!” Multiple times.

Jeongguk heard his name one more time and then everything went silent, again.

“No no no no no. She can’t be here. She shouldn’t be here.” Jeongguk mumbled to himself, clutching his hair.

“I must find her at once.” He knew full well that you weren’t on the road. The only option was the woods that he was avoiding until now.

Without any hesitation, he ran into the woods. The hovering fog followed him.

•••

As abruptly as you had left you came to an abrupt halt at the door of Jeongguk’s room. His taut body seemed loose as he was sitting on the bed, trying hard to do the same. You ran the short distance and hugged him.

“Oh god! Thank you so much! You are up! How are you feeling, Gguk? Is there any pain?” You asked.

He just smiled tiredly.

“Let me call Hobi.” You tried to get up but Jeongguk held you in his hug.

He softly sighed into the crook of your neck, “Let’s stay like this for a bit. I thought I won't be able to see you anymore.”

A slow discomfort crept up from your gut and spread its supple branches to the places Jeongguk’s body touched yours. It wasn't supposed to be like this. Your hardened stress was supposed to melt away from his touch instead of tightening like cooling stones.

Despite the fire blazing at its full capacity in the fireplace, Jeongguk’s body was unusually cold to the touch. You couldn't figure out the reason for your discomfort, so you pulled yourself out from his grip and rubbed your hands up and down his cold arms over the thin fabric.

“Oh my god! You are freezing! I have brought some warm clothes with me. Let me bring them to you.” You walked over to your haversack that had been abandoned by the couch since morning. You took out a white knit sweater that you had once borrowed from him.

“What happened to your hair?” He asked in a raspy voice.

“It’s a long story. I’ll tell you all about it later. A lot has happened since you got lost…” You sighed and started putting the sweater on him.

“Really? Why don’t you sit down and tell me all about it?” He said and you noticed his raspy voice getting raspier.

Knowing your boyfriend, you thought it was weird for a worrywart like him to not ask you about how you were feeling yet, especially now that you were pregnant. Brushing it off as his sickness side effect, you quickly went to his backside to roll down the sweater on him properly that got tucked upwards, and while doing so, your eyes flickered momentarily on his neck.

Your hands froze in their place. You felt like all your red warm blood had turned into white cold icy water seeing the same sizzling brand mark on his neck. Only one thought made itself loud and clear in your consciousness — you had to get away from the man sitting on the bed in front of you pretending to be your beloved.

With trembling hands and shaking pupils you touched the silver water jug kept on a bedside stand near his head and tried to sound completely normal but failed to control the stutters completely, “Oh- oh my! G-Gguk, you must be thirsty! Huh? Oh n-no! There’s no water in it! Let me go and bring some water for you!”

You hoped that whoever it was in the room didn’t notice the cold sweat on your forehead nor that you were trying to run away from it and hurried out of the room with the full jug in your hand.

Outside, the torch-lit hallway in your eyes appeared to continue forever and so gargantuan that the darkness at the end of it felt like you were looking down in an endless well and you could fall down in it if you looked any further.

Your legs felt weak and inside your head you felt a buzzing that made you nauseous. You dragged your body into the next room in which you were resting in the evening and locked the door after you.

Slowly you climbed the bed to find some comfort. You wrapped yourself in the blanket and sat there staring blankly at nothing.

Steadily enough your thoughts began to gain a coherent form and the buzzing started to die down. But even after that, you couldn’t make sense of what was happening around you.

Why do Duri, the mechanic and that person have the same brand? Why did I feel so sick in that room? Why do I feel so trapped? If that isn’t Jeongguk then where is he? Why did Lady Ruth have Jeongguk’s car inside her miniature? 21421002306JJ… 2142/10/02… October 2nd - the day Jeongguk went missing… His last call was at 3:03am. Could 306 be the time when these people found him? Wait… JJ? Jeon Jeongguk?

You felt your nerves shudder as your thoughts spiralled. I have to get out of here and find the real Jeongguk.

You slowly got out of the room and tiptoed along the hallway even though you were barefoot. There was luckily no one around when you slipped into the study. You couldn’t risk getting out of the main door and getting caught — you remembered the way the metal door made a loud creaking noise when Duri opened it this afternoon when you went to visit your father’s grave.

At this point, you were beginning to doubt whether it was even your father’s grave. There’s something really fishy going on here.

In the vast array of books, you weren’t sure if the blueprint of this house would even be kept, and even if it was, it would be like finding a needle in a haystack. Moreover, you had to look for it before someone walked in or looked for you. You frantically started scanning the bookshelves, you opened the cabinets underneath and looked in them while trying to avoid making the least sound but to no avail. It was indeed a needle inside a huge pile of hay.

Tired, you decided to stop and think carefully. It helped, for your eyes landed on something anomalous - all the shelves had uniform partitions except one in the right wall whose one partition ran wider than others. You knocked on it lightly and figured out that the inside was hollow. You hurriedly checked and noticed that it had no opening from the front. You started to take out the books slowly from the shelf at your eye level that was at the right side of the partition - there was nothing.

You kept the books in their place and instead of moving upwards or downwards, you decided to go to the left side of the partition and check.

Yes! You found it!

There was a thin rectangular line that said that it could be moved. You slowly pushed it and it slid open. Inside it was dark but not wanting to waste anymore time to bring a light source, you shoved your hand inside — not your best decision because you were instantly greeted with an unpleasant handshake of sticky cobwebs, and you definitely felt a few small things crawl by your hand.

You shut your eyes and mouth tightly and began to fumble your hand around until it touched something that felt like a thin book.

Bringing it out you cleaned the thick layer of dirt and crumpled cobwebs, that made itself a part of it, with your nightgown.

You opened it and realised that it was not a book but a parchment paper that was so big that upon folding the way it was, it gave the impression of a book.

When you fully unfolded the paper, you realised that you had found just the thing you needed. The blueprint which was a detailed drawing of all the floor plans and designs of the manor on its aging parchment paper could hardly be called a blueprint since it was nothing that you were used to seeing, but you decided to refer to it as the ‘blueprint’ anyways. It took up a large area of the floor and there was a browned photograph kept in the middle which in the spur of the moment you kept aside to look at the drawing instead.

In the all-familiar ground floor plan, you found something that was unfamiliar to you. There was a built-in secret passage along the back wall of the entire ground floor whose left end led to the kitchen in the basement and a backdoor marked as “the exit” was built in the middle of it. It had two entrances marked — one on the wall facing the room in which Jeongguk’s doppelganger was and another one was in the wall facing the master bedroom at the end of the right hallway. It was convenient, you thought. You just had to wait for everyone to retire for the night and then you could make your great escape.

At the top middle of it there were several things written which you assumed were its construction period, name of the head architect and the owners, respectively —

1589-1596

Jaejoong Yi

Jaejoong Yi & Ruth Amelia Livingston Yi

What the fuck…

You read it again and instinctively reached out for the photograph that you had kept aside earlier. The yellowing photograph showed two people standing in front of the main gate of the Balam Manor and they were smiling - one of them you could recognise from when Lady Ruth introduced to you earlier, Mr. Yi Jaejoong, her husband and the other one, you could recognise all too well because it was none other than Lady Ruth herself. Behind the photograph, there was a congratulatory message written that read, “Wishing all the happiness for your new beginnings. Much love, Rich Moore.”

Answers began to fold themselves into more questions the more you sought them out. You couldn’t comprehend all the information laid before you. You thought you were in some kind of an elaborate prank video. Why was there a photo of Lady Ruth that’s supposedly taken in 1596 when you could interact with her now in 2142, exactly 546 years later?

The flickering candle lights painted something ominous on the walls around you and you found it hard to breath. You wanted to get out of there as soon as possible but there was something that you must check before you go — a miniature labeled in your dad’s name.

There was no handle on the olive coloured door as you had seen before so you tried to push it open but it didn’t budge. You looked for anything that could be indicative of an opening but there was none.

You considered taking the pictures off the wall to look for some kind of key as they showed in movies but just then you heard footsteps outside. You hurried towards the door which you had mindfully closed after entering.

You listened to the footsteps carefully and instantly recognised them as Hoseok's.

You knew your best friend all too well to know that if you made any noise from behind in this darkness or simply call out his name he was gonna freak out and most probably would let out a pterodactyl shriek, hence alarming everyone present in the vicinity. He had a terrible distaste of darkness and the creatures that he thought resided in it. Now, it was making you wonder how he was even managing to live in this manor that nests this creepy darkness in it once the sun goes down.

You waited for his footsteps to fade enough to follow him without scaring him. Once you were sure he was far enough you got out of the room slowly and you saw his silhouette entering Jeongguk’s room, probably to check up on him. You increased your speed in order to stop him before he started to fuss over your disappearance.

Once you were in front of the door your speed reduced to a halt and you hesitated to enter as the two people inside — one with his hair wrapped in towel ready for a hair commercial checking the pulse of the other one with a weak posture and uninviting aura — turned and stared at your paused body with an expression that asked ‘why aren’t you entering?’

A staring competition ensued which lasted less than a minute and whose ending was marked by Hoseok’s question, “What are you thinking so hard about standing there?”

Startled, you entered the room as if you had to after his question and while walking towards Hoseok you asked him nervously, “How is he doing?”

“Better than I expected. Why didn’t you call me as soon as he woke up?” He asked while sitting down on the chair that you had dragged a lot earlier nearer to the bed to sit.

You stood right by your friend and answered, “I was going to but his voice was raspy so I went to bring some water.”

Hoseok looked at your hands and commented, “But I don’t see any water.”

“Ah…” Your voice trailed off as you brought your two hands forward and looked at them unbelievingly. Fuck! I was too careless.

“I… couldn’t find water in the dining room. Come help me find it.” You grabbed Hoseok’s hand and pulled him trying to get him up.

And when he finally got up you practically dragged him out of the room with the force of pulling a loaded cart uphill.

You stopped only when you reached the dining room. You looked behind you, and once you confirmed it’s only you two there you whispered, steering it loud enough to be considered as a serious matter, “Hoba, that’s not Jeongguk!”

“What?” On his face you could clearly see his disbelief in the fact that you just told him what you did.

“I am serious.”

“Aha! I know you are trying to pull a prank on me!” He cheerfully ended his investigation behind your weird claims.

“I am not. Hoba, please you have to believe me now.” You begged to be taken seriously.

He stared at you for a few moments as if looking for sincerity in your words and once he found it he asked, “Why do you feel like that? I didn’t sense anything off though.”

“I… I could just sense it. He makes me uncomfortable. My Jeongguk would never make me feel that way.” You said.

Hoseok pretended to vomit and said, “Okay. Stop. I get it.”

You slapped his arm and retorted, “You should see yourself when you talk about Ji-a!”

He laughed, “Sorry, sorry. My bad. But seriously it must be just your injured head talking! Who else it would be other than Jeongguk in the flesh! You have seen him. I have seen him. He is exactly like we know him.”

He was right. There was no visible evidence of him not being Jeongguk - except for the brand mark on his neck!

“Wait! Hoba, there’s…” You got interrupted in the middle by Duri, who entered the room and with his signature bow, he said, “Your graces, dinner is ready to be served.”

He then proceeded to pull two chairs one by one and waited until both of you sat down. Once he went out to bring the food you told Hoseok, still using the same hushed tone, “I have something important to tell you. Let’s talk after dinner in your room.”

“Alright, ma’am. I also have something to ask you. By the way, aren’t you going to feed Jeongguk? You used to do that whenever he got sick.” Hoseok’s voice was back to normal volume.

“Ah, right…” Your voice drooped. He is not Jeongguk though.

When Duri came back with the dishes Hoseok asked him, “Duri, have you prepared the soup that I asked you for Jeongguk?”

“Yes, milord. Earlier I came here after delivering the soup to him. But…” He paused and after a quick glance at you he looked back at Hoseok, “He said that he’ll wait for milady to finish her dinner.”

Ever since you hugged him, your mind was constantly telling you that he wasn’t Jeongguk and you should stop caring and stay as far as possible from him, but Duri’s last sentence put an uneasiness inside you like coarse sand between your toes, and your fingers hesitated to grab the chopsticks.

Unable to clean away the sand, you stood up and said, “Duri, can you please put away my food for now? I will have them after feeding Jeongguk.”

“Wait wait wait!” Hoseok stood up as well. “Have your dinner first. You have to take medicine. And Jeongguk will have to take meds too after dinner which I haven’t brought from my room. Let’s just finish our dinner quickly then you can feed him with all the love you want to give him, hm?”

Duri probably noticed your hesitation so he said, “Milady, I have put his soup back in the kitchen and his grace said that he wasn’t feeling like eating yet, so you can enjoy your dinner peacefully.”

You let out a heavy sigh and sat back down. You didn’t have any appetite but any excuse seemed better than seeing the man in that room right now.

At this point, relief seemed to be a far-fetched dream as one fear after another caught up to you. Putting the first nibble inside your mouth, you asked Duri, “Duri, won’t Lady Ruth be joining us for dinner tonight?”

After the discoveries of this evening you didn’t think you’d be able to hide your inner dread from her.

“Her grace has retired for the evening. She told me to relay the message that she regrets not being able to be your host for dinner tonight as she has some urgent business to attend to. She hopes for your understanding.” Duri answered.

“Ah! That’s completely fine! Please tell Lady Ruth to not worry about it all. Ha ha!” You didn’t expect to be spared the dread but you were thankful nonetheless.

You finished all that you were served quite quickly and after taking the meds, you requested Hoseok, “Hoba, please sit with me while I feed him. I really don’t want to be alone right now. And when I am done feeding him, tell him that you have something urgent to discuss with me, okay?”

You sat on the chair by the man’s bed and Hoseok sat on the couch. Duri brought in the soup and a small table that could be kept on the bed for convenience.

You had only fed him two spoons when the man asked, “Babe, are you okay? Your hands are shaking!”

“Oh?” You didn’t notice how much your hands were trembling as you were solely focused on feeding him so that you could leave the room as soon as possible.

“Ah… It’s nothing. I am probably cold, wearing this thin nightgown and all. The fire isn’t helping that much I guess. Don’t worry. I have brought warm clothes for myself too. Once you finish eating I will wear it.” You smiled nervously and held another spoonful of soup in front of his mouth.

Slowly — probably too slow for you — he finished the bowl and Duri came and took away both the bowl and the table as if he was just waiting for it outside.

You wiped your hand with the wet washcloth that Duri had brought and he brought another one which you used to wipe Jeongguk’s mouth.

After you were done, you put on the sweater that you had brought for yourself. You made the man lie on the bed and pulled the blanket over him, quite reluctantly so.

Despite there being three people in the room, all of whom happen to be best of friends, an awkward silence roamed inside its walls, and the only sound that could be heard loud enough as if it was happening inside one’s body, was the crackling of fire in the fireplace.

You looked at Hoseok and squinted your eyes which signalled both annoyance and a reminder to do his part. Hoseok, who had apparently zoned out, came back to his senses and abruptly started talking like a wannabe actor giving an audition, “Wonwon, I have something to talk to you about. Come with me. Jeongguk, please don’t fall asleep. I’ll bring your meds right away.”

You were in no position to criticise your best friend’s acting skills as you replied in the same amateur manner, “Oh, okay, Hoba. Let’s go. I’ll be right back, b-babe.”

Once you were in Hoseok’s room on the first floor, you could take the breath long needed. You released your body on his soft king-sized bed with a thump.

You looked around the maroon and gold themed room while lying down and said, “This room is huge! Probably twice the size of the room Jeongguk is in. Maybe even more! Ji-a is going to go absolute nuts over this space!”

Hoseok smiled while going over to a big glass shelf blocking one of the windows completely. That modernish furniture was certainly a misfit in this room preserving its classic medieval aesthetic.

Seeing that hopeful and shy smile on his face you couldn’t help but mumble, “But probably you won’t be able to live here after all.”

“Hm? What was that?” Hoseok asked. And you replied with the typical, “Nothing.”

“By the way, where are the workers for the renovation? I haven't seen anyone or heard anything since this morning.” You asked.

“I gave them a few days off. Seeing Jeongguk’s condition, some silence would do him good.” Hoseok explained, to which you just replied with a ‘hmm.’

The illusion that was relief came to an end as almost instantaneously you felt the nauseousness appear like a wave inside you just like this afternoon. Asking for the direction of his bathroom, you ran and vomited all that you had eaten for dinner in his sink. It was a gruesome sight.

“Wonwon? You okay in there?” You heard Hoseok asking from outside the door of the bathroom.

“Yea- Yeah I am fine. I’ll be out in a minute.” You replied, and letting a heavy and slow sigh escape from your lungs, you started cleaning the sink.

After returning the sink to its previous state, you washed your face. Your head hung low as you stood there to take a breather and let the water droplets fall without wetting your dress. Your whole head and throat felt like it was on fire, and you wanted to drink a shit ton of water.

You couldn’t understand why you were throwing up so much. If your pregnancy was the reason then you were fine yesterday even after barely eating anything and travelling the whole day. Then why was this happening today when you had full meals and ample rest?

Wiping the water from your face with your hand you looked up and saw yourself in the mirror that was fitted right above the sink which you had completely blindsided until now.

The reflection in the mirror looked more miserable than the reflection that you saw a couple or so hours ago. Your eyes were red and watery and you could see the stress taking form on your face clearly.

I have to get out of here.

You got out of the bathroom and saw your best friend standing there with worry cemented on his face. You gave him a faint smile and tried to reassure him, “I am fine! It’s just pregnancy sickness. Nothing more. I’ll be fine after a good rest. But first take off that towel! You’ll ruin your already balding hair!”

“I am not the bald one though.” Hoseok sing-songed the mockery with a smirk on his face and slightly grazed his hands over your bald head.

“Why you!” You chased after already running away Hoseok who stopped near his bed and nearly started wheezing and falling down because he was laughing so hard.

When you reached him he started saying, “Time-out, time-out,” with panicky hand gestures and squeaky voice - his face red as a tomato.

You stopped and sat on the bed - laughing hard yourself that brought tears to your eyes.

After both of you had calmed down, you instructed Hoseok to sit on the carpet near your feet, “Come, sit here. I’ll wipe your hair dry. Why did you even wash your hair at this dead hour of the night?”

“Ah! I went out to talk to the mechanic. He said that he’d leave for the city once the rain lets up and bring a tow. And on my way back I got poured on so I had to wash my hair.” He explained.

“And let me guess, you forgot that you can’t use a hair dryer here and you kept the towel on and forgot about it too.” You unwrapped the towel and let his long brunette hair that went well past his shoulder blades fall freely on his back. It still kept droplets trapped between its locks, so you began to make small partings in his hair and wipe them thoroughly.

You didn’t have to see it to know that your best friend was smiling sheepishly knowing full well that you had stepped on his deeds with right footing.

You held his hair up to wipe the wetness off his upper neck.

At the police academy they taught you how to not to trust even the most innocent looking person while investigating a crime. But they didn’t teach how to apply the same doubtful glance on your loved ones.

Your hand paused and so did your whole body. The same brand mark was on his neck. You felt deceived. Helpless. And suddenly, alone.

You gulped hard in an attempt to swallow the fear.

Play it cool. Play it cool.

“Y- you were telling me you had something important to say.” You asked.

“Ah! Yes. I was putting your clothes to dry on the clothes rack and I found a note in your pocket with some kind of a riddle on it. What is it?” He asked.

Shit! You had totally forgotten about the fortune card!

You felt your vision blur for a moment. And as abruptly it blurred, it became clear too.

“Oh, that? I bought a fortune cookie on my way here and it was inside that cookie. Honestly, I was pretty disappointed to see a weird note instead of a real fortune.” You huffed in disappointment.

“Just that? I thought you were on some treasure hunting shenanigan this time without telling me!” He pouted.

“As if!” You scoffed — the little playful push dissipated halfway before reaching his back.

“By the way, you said you have something important to tell me. What is it?” He asked after closing his eyes as you started back again to wipe his hair but this time more gently.

Noticing how you weren’t answering, he quipped, “Come on! Stop zoning out.”

“Huh? Ah yeah… Well, the thing is, Hoba, I discovered some really disturbing things today and I think you shouldn’t live here anymore. In fact, you should run away with me as I am planning to do so tonight.” Your hands stopped once again and your voice gained a serious tone.

If you want to play this game, let’s play this game.

“What?” He exclaimed loudly and turned around to face you, which made it apparent how shocked he was.

“Hoba… You have to listen to me very carefully.” You got down from the bed and sat in front of him on the carpet.

“Do you remember that I told you that I went to get water for Jeongguk this evening but couldn’t find any?”

He nodded.

“Actually, I didn’t go to bring water. I was in Lady Ruth’s study.” He gave you a ‘are you mad?’ look. And you instantaneously began to justify your action.

“I know. I know this sounds like I was trespassing, which technically I was, but hear me out! There I found this manor’s map along with a photograph of Lady Ruth and her husband. And the strange part is that their photo and the day they entered this mansion was dated in the year 1596!”

“You sure you saw it right?” He asked doubtfully.

“Are you seriously questioning a detective if she saw it right? The audacity.” You faked taking offense.

“You forgot to mention ‘private’.” He chirped back.

“That doesn’t make me any less of a detective. I would say I would be better if anything. So stop turning the conversation into the wrong lane!”

“Okay. Okay! I am sorry.” He laughed. “But seriously though, it could be Lady Ruth’s ancestor with the same name and face! Things like that happen sometimes.”

“That’d be a far stretch if we consider a few things - firstly why isn’t there any other of her ancestors’ pictures in the manor? Secondly, why do both of their husbands, as Lady Ruth has introduced to me, look the same and have the same name? And thirdly, she herself told me that her husband used to call her ‘Balam’ and this manor is named after her, which she had made obvious a few times. What other proof do you need? Hoba, I am telling you there’s something really wrong with the people here! And both you and I have to get out of here. Tonight!” You took a long breath after your long explanation to convince him.

“But Wonwon… all the things that you are saying are just theoretical. We don’t have solid proof! I have been living here for months now! And trust me, I haven’t seen anything out of place!” He looked at you as if you were trying to forcefully prove something that wasn’t even there.

“Hoba…” Your voice mellowed down and strangely, even though he wasn’t your best friend, you felt disheartened. “This isn’t like you at all… What changed in the last months that you are trying to imply that I am in the wrong? You used to be my number one supporter!”

“Wonwon…” He held your hand in an attempt to put balm on the bleeding wound in your heart.

You softly tugged your hand out of his cold ones and sniffled hard to stop your tears from coming out, “Fine! You want proof? I’ll give you proof! You remember what I told you about Jeongguk, right? In her collection room, I saw a miniature that was dated the day Jeongguk went missing and it even has its initials and Jeongguk’s car in it! I may be going crazy, like you think, but I know too damn well that it takes more than a day to create something as detailed as that. Come with me to the collection room. And look for one with the code starting with 21311017 and ending with PY. That’d be my dad.”

“Wha- Alright, let’s go!” He stood up and extended his hand to help you up but you ignored his waiting hand and stood up yourself.

“Where did you keep my clothes?” You asked.

“It’s in the bathroom of the room you were sleeping in. And your phone is in the drawer of the bedside table. You go first. I’ll see you in front of the study in ten minutes.” He replied solemnly and sighed a quick sigh.

You didn’t say anything back. On your way back, the steps of the stairs were darker than when you ascended it with him. Your steps felt heavy and the stairs and the hallway seemed to go on forever.

Finally entering your room, you went straight to the bathroom. The bathroom was almost the size of a big bedroom in any high class apartment in the city, and you found another smaller room within it where there was a small fireplace and several clothes racks.

You took your clothes and searched your pockets and let out a relieved sigh after finding the note in one of your pockets.

You changed into your previous outfit and sat on your bed to read the note again.

WHEN ROADS ARE MISLEADING AND FALSE WORDS ARE SPOKEN

IN THE RULING DARKNESS SOMEONE'S TREASURED THING MUST BE BROKEN

This time you could understand that it wasn’t a riddle rather a clear-cut instruction on what you have to do.

Who is that old lady? And why is she helping me like this?

No matter what, you decided to follow the path that you saw as your only way to escape and your single shot at rescuing Jeongguk.

You took out your phone from the drawer — it still had 15% battery but no reception yet — and kept it in the inside pocket of your jacket.

You inhaled and exhaled deeply and went to the man’s room.

He was lying down in the exact position you had left him. His eyes were closed and he was taking slow and steady breaths.

Your plan was to quietly take your haversack and get out of there. Before taking your haversack, you hesitated for a moment and contemplated whether you should take the sweater off of him since it was one of Jeongguk’s favourite ones and it made you sad seeing it on somebody else.

Get it together, Sowon. It’s not the time to be materialistic.

You gave yourself soundless slaps on your cheeks and picked up the haversack.

You looked at the person lying on the bed one last time before turning to leave, but your eyes made contact with each other. His emotionless eyes were looking at you directly and that startled you.

“O-oh Jeongguk! Did I wake you? I was just leaving! Rest up.” You laughed nervously.

“Where are you going, babe?” He asked; his voice was groggy - the voice that had made your insides feel like jelly on many mornings.

But tonight it made you sick.

“I am just going to give Hoseok a few things that I brought with me. Why don’t you go back to sleep? It may take long.” Come on! Say ‘okay’.

“It’s fine. I’ll be waiting. I want to sleep with you by my side tonight.” He smiled.

“But Jeongguk… You are sick!” You make me sick!

“It’s not like we’ll be doing something strenuous! Plus the bed is so big… I’d feel lonely by myself. With you here, why should I sleep alone?” He smirked. And you thought if he was real Jeongguk you would be in his arms already.

“Alright. I’ll be back in a jiffy.” You gave him a stiff smile and got out of the room.

The man pretending to be Hoseok was waiting for you outside of the study. When he noticed you with your haversack, he asked in bewilderment, “Are you already making a run for it?”

“Hush! Not yet. But who knows when I have to. You should have been prepared beforehand as well.” You whispered and entered the study.

The candles inside were halfway through their lives and the room was slightly darker than before.

“I couldn’t open that door earlier. Can you?” You whispered pointing to the ominous olive coloured small door on the photo-cluttered wall.

“I’ll give it a try.” He said and went straight to the door.

With his slight pull the door slid open leaving your jaw to hit the floor.

“Wow, Jung Hoseok! You are the mvp!” You praised him and gave him a light pat on his shoulder.

He held your arm and turned you around to face him before you could cross the threshold, “Listen, if I don’t find what you told me then you are going straight to bed. I am not going to go along with your fantasies any longer. Understood?”

His sudden declaration of terms and conditions startled you but you just nodded.

“Good! Also we must hurry! Duri will be here to change the candles before they run out completely! So you better hurry!” He whispered in an urgent tone and closed the door behind him after both of you got in.

It was your second time seeing the colossal structure but it didn’t fail to make you feel insignificant and amazed yet again. This time though the added dimness poured black ashes inside your stomach and you felt nervous.

You brought out the flashlight and walked ahead, “Hoba, I am gonna walk ahead and take a look at the miniature I saw earlier once more. You look for the one I told you.”

But the next second you paused and said, “Wait! On second thought, I am going to look for my dad’s miniature. I’ll make a sound once I find it. You stand guard here. Make a sound if someone comes.”

“Wait! Wonwon, what are you planning to do if what you said turns out to be true?” He asked. Even in the dim candle light you could see his expression — he was concerned and was feeling lost.

Nice acting.

You kept your hand on his shoulder, trying to comfort him perhaps, or maybe yourself, “We’ll figure something out… as we always have.” You tried to smile.

You didn’t wait to see or hear his reaction and soon you were out of his sight, in the maze of shelves, towards the center.

Once you reached the heart of the room, you exhaled long and took a few quick breaths as if preparing yourself for the next step. You indeed came to look at the miniature Jeongguk was supposed to be ‘in’. But that was only a part of a bigger plan. You glanced at the snowglobe inside the glass cover. The rain had stopped inside the snowglobe and it was basking in the shining full moon light.

You quickly put your haversack on the floor and opened its mouth. You held the glass cover carefully and started lifting it. It was heavier and thicker than it looked. You had to be careful not to drop it. Keeping it on the table right beside the snow globe you quickly smuggled the snow globe inside your haversack. You slid the glass cover to the middle, since it was closer to the edge of the round table, in fear of knocking it over and making a noise loud enough to bring the whole mansion, i.e. just four other people, in this space.

Putting on the haversack you flashed the light inside the never-changing 21421002306JJ miniature. Gguk, I promise I’ll save you.

You looked at the other miniatures of recent dates and found the one that you didn’t mention to him about — 214204161001JH carved on the silver tag of a miniature of Balam Manor.

Hoba…

With hurried steps you went to the outer wings of the structure where you hoped you would find a miniature with your dad’s initials. You felt grateful that everything was managed serially so you just had to scan through the years quickly.

In the second wing from inside you found dates from the 2100s, and on the third rack from the bottom in one of the shelves — you couldn’t determine on which wall it was — you found what you were dreading until now - what if I can’t find it?

The 21311017333PY silver tag shone brightly as you looked up at it.

You whistled a particular tone that you had always used as a signal for your best friend since childhood, but it came out rather weak since you were trying to keep the sadness at the border of your throat.

He was by your side in an instant. He looked at the tag you were pointing at and gasped softly, “Oh my god… You were right. What should we do now?”

“Can… Can you lift me up, Hoba? I wanna take a look inside of it…” You softly whispered and looked at him with teary eyes.

He didn’t say anything but just knelt down so you could climb on his shoulders.

You quickly swiped off the tears, and keeping the haversack on the floor, you climbed on his shoulders.

With wobbly steps he stood up. You chuckled at that and chirped a quick apology to him.

The atmosphere inside the miniature was just as unmoving as Jeongguk’s. The woods were the same, the road was the same and the exit sign too was the same. There was a car in it as well. The only tiny difference in it was that it was your dad’s car that you had seen him drive off in for the last time.

“Hoba, I am done.” You whispered a little loudly.

He slowly lowered his wobbly body down and you got off. You got off and couldn’t get up from the floor. You wanted to ugly cry but all you could do was whimper while swallowing the sounds and bearing the pain inside your chest and throat.

He sat down beside you and hugged you. You clutched on the sleeve of his sweater anchoring yourself and buried your face in his chest.

The exhaustion that you were keeping at bay, trying not to let them overwhelm you, came crashing down on you again - taking you violently, drowning you mercilessly. But this time, you felt relief. You had found him. Now all that was left was rescuing him from that still, unnatural world controlled by evil.

“Wonwon!” He whispered. “I think someone’s here. It’s probably Duri. We have to get out of here!”

“What? But how? There’s only one way out!” You said sniffling as quietly as you could.

He thought for a moment and said, “You wait here. I’ll distract Duri and once he is out of the way I will come and get you, alright?”

You nodded. He gave you a reply-nod and went out. You swiftly and stealthily went behind him and hid by the door. As he closed the door behind him after getting out, you heard Duri’s voice, “Your grace, I believe I have already informed you that this space is off limits in her grace’s absence.”

You heard his cheerful voice, “I am so sorry, Duri! It totally slipped my mind. It’s just so fascinating. I was going to return now anyways. By the way, before you change the candles here, can you change the ones in my room? I have some work to do! Hm? Pretty please?”

You pictured Duri sighing and rolling his eyes in defeat, which you were sure wouldn’t be visible on his face.

“Yes, your grace.” You heard Duri say.

“I’ll be there in a sec!” He replied.

A few seconds passed and he opened the door.

You scrambled on your feet and quickly got out.

“Listen!” He held you by your shoulders. “Stay in your room for now. I’ll come at midnight and we will make an escape through the living room window.”

“But Hoba!” You said for no particular reason.

“Don’t worry. I know Duri’s surveillance pattern. We will make it. Together!” He gave your shoulders a light shake as if to transfer his resolution into you.

Taking your nod as a yes, he went to the first floor where he had sent Duri earlier.

•••

You entered the room and saw Jeongguk sitting on his bed.

“You sure took long. I thought you abandoned me.” Jeongguk said with a blank expression.

You didn’t have any excuse ready. With a sheepish smile you went towards him.

Strangely, you didn’t feel uncomfortable at all anymore. Rather you felt a very familiar feeling that you were so used to, that you were so craving for.

Reaching him, you hugged him - his head on your belly.

“I am sorry that I was gone for so long. We will be home soon.” You said softly and slowly ran your fingers through his soft curls.

“No.”

Jeongguk’s words confused you.

“What do you mean?” You asked.

“As long as you have this I can’t go anywhere.” His voice sounded cruel.

He put his hands on your belly, and your belly started growing, and in the blink of an eye it was the size of that of an eight month pregnant woman.

Before you could comprehend what was happening, Jeongguk’s hands grew claws and he ripped your belly apart and yanked out a bloody lump of alive flesh.

•••

You woke up with a startle. You didn’t realise when you had fallen asleep on the bed of your room while waiting to get out.

You rubbed your face - it was covered in cold sweat. You touched your belly and felt relieved.

You quickly checked for the time on your phone, desperately hoping it wasn’t midnight already and felt relieved that it was still forty-five minutes away.

You took out your desert eagle and the holster and tied it around your waist in case you had to use it.

Putting your haversack on your back, you slowly poked your head out of the room to check if there was anyone.

Relieved to see the empty hallway, you got out. With soft steps you reached near the next room’s door and peeked inside. Jeongguk's doppelganger was lying down but you couldn’t figure out whether he was asleep or not.

With similar soft steps you scurried and crossed his door and reached the end of the hallway.

According to the blueprint, there was supposed to be a door leading to it, and the only possibility you saw was the 6 foot long and 4 foot wide painting of the waterfall that was fixed on the wall at the very end.

You slowly started pushing it from one side but it didn’t budge. You tried the other side and got the same result.

You felt panic slowly starting to settle in the pit of your stomach. You looked at the torchlit yet dark hallway and hoped no one came now.

You looked up and down the painting, illuminating it with your flashlight. You began to feel its sides with your hands as far as it reached and looked for anything out of the ordinary. But there was none on either side.

You sat down on the floor and began inspecting the underside of the frame, and there you found a groovy pattern made for four fingers. You put your fingers except the thumb in it and gave it a push upwards. It made a clicking sound and the painting slid upwards opening a cavity its size.

You clenched your fist and pulled your elbow towards yourself as a victory celebration and stepped into the cavity.

You entered and turned to your right. The long hallway stretching ahead was lit with smaller fire torches than the ones in the main hallway. The unwavering shadows underneath them had the impression of lurking entities waiting to pounce. You looked behind you and saw a dark and narrow passageway that, according to the blueprint, led to the kitchen outside.

Logically, it was the shorter path to escape to the outside but there was also a bigger possibility of Duri being there.

Your escapeway was lying right ahead in the middle of the hallway — a door where the staircase in the main building was.

You saw a thick rope attached to the bottom of the painting from inside and its end was hung on an iron hook on the wall. You pulled the rope and closed the painting behind you, locking yourself inside the restricted passage.

Carefully you trod ahead — fast enough to get there quickly, slow enough to not make any noise, your barefoot helped.

The air in the hallway was dense and heavy with the smell of burning wax. The lights flickered subtly as you moved past each of them shifting the air. The more seconds you passed there, the more difficult it became for you to breathe properly. There was no visible outlet to let the air move freely and the years of trapped air latched onto your nose and lungs and was squeezing out more than you could take from it.

Not being able to tolerate it anymore, you ran the last bit and took a longer breath once you reached the door.

The garlic-like odour of phosphorus hit your nose sharply. You looked up and it became clear to you how the neon sign above the door was working when there wasn’t supposed to be any electricity in the manor.

You should have immediately unlatched the door. You should have immediately walked out instead of staring at the shining bright green neon sign nailed above the door that said - The Exit.

You should have made your escape before the voice so familiar to you could call you and say, “Wonwon, I told you we’ll make it together. So why are you leaving me behind?”

Your body stiffened as you stared right at the door refusing to acknowledge the source of the sound. You could hear his footsteps approaching.

You felt unnerved. Your eyes frantically looked for the latch. Once you found it, you dared to look at the direction of the dim hallway that you had crossed a while ago. You saw your best friend’s figure walking towards you. The monster lurking in the shadows turned out to be the wolf in grandma's skin.

Keeping your shaking finger on the latch, you yelled knowing full well it’s of no use, your voice hoarse in fear, “Stop right there. I know you are not Jung Hoseok.”

A sinister smile cut through the figure’s cheeks.

A hot tear drop trickled down your cheeks as you tried to stand your ground.

“Here I thought I was putting up a perfect act. But you fooled me. Anyways, I am glad I don’t have to pretend anymore. It’s annoying.” The figure said.

His voice distorted and you witnessed the most horrifying scene unfold in front of your eyes.

The slit that had occurred on the figure’s cheeks while smiling widened and you saw your best friend’s skin getting ripped apart - first the face, then the skull, then the full body in half through the middle - slowly, like a flimsy cloth.

You desperately tried to open the hundreds of years old latch. Duri freed himself from Hoseok’s skin that fell on the ground like a wet rag and dissolved into Duri’s body like slime.

The skin on your palm started burning.

Duri started running towards you and his body began to disfigure in a gruesome manner — his back hunched, his arms grew longer, crossing his knees, his legs bent like an animal and he grew claws on both hands and feet. His hairless body was grey in colour and there was pure cruelty in his glowing lidless eyes and lipless mouth where only long and sharp teeth were visible.

Your mind couldn’t focus on anything else except for the impending danger and the latch that needed to be opened.

The moment you fully unlocked the latch, you found yourself flying. Duri had grabbed your haversack and had flinged you to the opposite wall.

Your side hit the wall and you fell on your back. You realised you’d have broken a few bones if you had been thrown any harder. Due to the impact, your flashlight broke, leaving shattered glass pieces on the floor.

A series of coughs escaped your lungs and you sat up only to see that Duri was holding your haversack.

No no no no no no.

Panic spread across your body like a wildfire. If Duri got his hands on the snow globe then all of this would be for nothing. You quickly took out your gun and aimed at Duri.

His face didn’t have the opportunity to show much expression but you could imagine that he was smirking mockingly at you while he said, “Your father didn’t teach you stealing is a bad thing?”

He took out the snow globe.

You gritted your teeth and aimed at his head and fired. It hit right above his temple, but to your horror, his skin absorbed the bullet as if you had just shot a viscous substance.

“You need to do more than that to hurt me.” His distorted voice echoed in the hallway.

You shot another round which hit his eye.

You didn’t hope for much and were ready to shoot another round, but it seemed to have an effect on Duri. It took him a second to come near you and the next second you were grabbed by your collar too tightly to even breath.

He smelt like swamps and rotten vegetables, which made breathing in his vicinity even more difficult for you.

“Humans.” Duri growled. “You are all so fragile and insignificant, yet you stop at nothing to prove your dominance over things that you can’t control.”

You coughed and struggled to get out of his clasp.

Duri’s grip on your collar lightened but he didn’t let go.

“You know what, your father probably thought of the same thing when he willingly entered the Devil’s Crest to rescue your uncle. Such a prideful little bastard. Leaving his family behind with the confidence that he will be able to get out. Aren’t you the same as him? Prideful, overconfident and rude.” Duri inched closer as his hurt dimmed eye began to regain its glow.

“Do not dare to speak of my father with your stinky mouth.” You barked.

At your retort, Duri laughed maniacally and let you go.

“You have got some nerve. Do you think your nerves will save you from the repercussions of hurting my eye?”

He took your hand and kept three silver tags on your palm that magically appeared in his big clawed hand. Those three tags belonged to Jeongguk, Hoseok and your father.

You looked up at Duri and he said, “Choose one of them that you want to save. I’ll spare his life. Choose very carefully. Because the unchosen ones aren’t going to have the most merciful deaths.” He started singing ‘eenie meenie miney mo’ and placed his index finger on each silver tag with each word.

You closed your eyes and took a sharp breath.

“Are you saying that my father is still alive?” You asked.

“Very much.” He replied. “Now tell me which two tags do you want to return?”

“What if I don’t?”

“Then one of them loses the chance to leave.”

The silver tags in your palms suddenly felt like they weighed a ton. They wanted to drag you down and bury you under the earth.

How were you supposed to make a choice that you had no right to make? How can you knowingly push someone to their demise? But…

But how can you deny someone their one chance at escaping this hell?

You longed to see your father.

Would I be able to see him if he gets to leave? You didn’t know.

What if I couldn’t escape? What’s gonna happen when he gets home and sees mom in the arms of another man? How will he react when he will know that I haven’t returned home in two days? Will he spend the rest of his life searching for me just like I did for him?

Jeongguk… How will Jeongguk live after knowing that I went missing while searching for him? How will he live after losing both his love and child?

A memory from a couple years ago hit your head. Both of you had gone on a foreign trip to New Zealand. On the second day, you were going to the Bay of Islands by bus. When you reached there, your keychain fell off and went under the seat while you were standing up to get out. You had told Jeongguk to go ahead and get the luggage from the bus bunker while you got the keychain. But the keychain had rolled off quite far. And the bus, not knowing you were still inside, had driven off as soon as both of your luggage was off of it.

You managed to get off at the next stop just ten minutes away and take the return bus. But even though you had consoled Jeongguk over the phone that you were fine and you were returning, when you reached where he was, he hugged you so tightly as if you would disappear if he let you go. And his silent tears wetted your dress. He had always been such a worrywart.

Would he be okay?

You wondered how Hoseok was doing inside the cage called the Balam Manor. He was probably on the verge of losing his spirit. He had always been good under pressure but never good when he was lonely.

How would Hoseok’s parents feel about losing their son? How would Jiwoo cope with losing her brother? How would Ji-a live with shattered dreams in an empty home? Can I face them after pushing Hobi to certain death? What about Jeongguk’s parents? Can I face them if I do not choose Jeongguk now?

What would dad have done? He probably would have chosen the one with the better chance at a good life. And at this moment, it seems to be…

You picked up Hoseok’s with your other hand and silently gave back Jeongguk’s and your father’s tags back to Duri.

“That was fun. Though I was expecting a stream of tears, these few drops are good too. You are a smart one, aren’t you? Now you won’t have to go back and answer your boyfriend's family and your mom why you didn't choose their son and husband. Now sit here like a good girl until I come back.” Duri said and turned back with the snowglobe. The sigil on his neck was bright like burning coal.

“Are you really going to let Hoseok leave?” You shouted behind him.

“Of course, since we need an empty space anyway for you. But I can’t guarantee if it’s Hoseok or his body that’s going to lea—”

Duri couldn’t finish his sentence as you hit his neck with the fire torch that you had taken out of its place by flinging your haversack at its bottom.

You emptied the rubbing alcohol bottle from the first aid kit on him that you had taken out from your haversack before flinging it.

Duri screeched an ear piercing cry in pain as his head caught fire, and he tried to put it out by slapping his hands profusely on his head.

Taking the opportunity, you grabbed the snowglobe that had fallen on the floor and ran for the door.

Despite being in pain, Duri ran behind you to catch you, but you had already crossed the threshold of the exit. Judging by the fact that the snowglobe didn’t get a single scratch on it even after falling on the floor with such an impact, it could only mean that it needed even more brutal force to break. There should be a field past the door and if you could just enter the woods beyond it somehow, then you would be able to find enough time to break the snowglobe.

You shut the door behind you and looked ahead.

What?

You were back in the hallway that you had just ran out from a moment ago. You had entered through the door that you had just left through.

You looked around yourself and found only yourself in that empty hallway. Duri wasn’t there. Then you noticed the fire torch that you had flinged a while ago — it was intact in its place.

Your haversack wasn’t anywhere to be seen either.

You looked back at the door. It had the same neon exit sign on top of it.

Is this the missing exit sign from the Balam Manor miniatures?

If I go back through this door then Duri will surely catch me. I have no choice but to run inside the manor.

Without wasting any time, you ran towards the painting through which you had entered. But when you got out of it, you found yourself in complete darkness. You went back to the secret passageway and shot at one of the fire torch holders. It fell loose and the fire torch fell on the floor. You took it and reentered the mansion’s main hallway. You were taken aback upon noticing you were in the right hallway instead of the left one.

But that wasn’t what surprised you the most. It seemed like you had entered a different mansion altogether. The interior was in ruins and was covered in years of dust, dirt and cobwebs. You slowly walked through the filth. You had nothing on yourself except the snowglobe and the gun. You must find an instrument to break the snowglobe soon.

You came across rooms that you hadn’t seen before and it all seemed haphazardly placed. The paintings on the walls had lost all their glory to silverfishes and moths. Your feet left deep prints on the innumerable unsweeped layers of dust on the floor and your bare feet wiggled in them.

After walking for a few minutes, you reached where the living room was supposed to be, but there was just an empty space and a rectangular opening in the floor through which a staircase went further downstairs.

Is that the basement?

You noticed a faint light coming from inside it. Conflicted on whether you should go check out the source or not, you stopped short on your track.

It could very much be Duri or… a survivor.

You decided that you would just take a peek and run back if you sensed any danger.

With careful steps you descended the stairs. You ended up in a well-lit and short hallway through whose middleway there was an arch-like structure that led to another hallroom with no door.

You saw a figure kneeling on the floor in a defeated position with his head hanging low.

His outfit, his short hair was all too familiar to you.

You kept the snowglobe near the arch just in case and approached him cautiously.

His bare neck had no branding on them.

You gasped in a struggle to breathe as tears welled up in your eyes and you called out-

“Hoba?”

37 notes · View notes

temptaetions · 1 year

Text

game night! - m.list

synopsis: there's never just one way to win a game, and foul play isn't always to the disadvantage of the opponent. seven games and plenty of outcomes - game night is always full of fun.

status: ongoing.

rating: 18+. MDNI. please read each set of warnings for each production before reading them.

a/n: i do not own any of the original photos used. that being said, minors DO NOT INTERACT. this series and/or certain fics will not be for everybody, and i don’t expect everyone to enjoy all of them. i want to acknowledge that there may be triggering topics, such as pregnancy and child birth mentioned across all fics but mostly in taehyung’s. please do not read these fics if you are uncomfortable with any of the warnings or bases, and feel free to send me an ask (my anons are off) and we can talk about it if you’d like! that being said, practice safe and consensual sex, real life is nothing like fanfics. be safe, everyone.

— restless sea - kim namjoon

↳ synopsis: you and namjoon are really two peas in a pod - even with your busy schedules, you find the time for each other. however, when you take a new job in france, namjoon finds it difficult to make a decision.

↳ game: battleship

↳ genre: breakup au | x fem!reader | angst

↳ pairing: producer!knj x fem!baker!reader

↳ rating: 18+. minors do not fucking interact.

↳ warning(s): breakup, alcohol consumption, smoking. heavy kissing, heavy petting, crying, mutual pining.

↳ what to listen to: restless sea - louis futon, opia | sweet nothing - calvin harris, florence welch | please keep loving me - james tw | i don’t know what love is - lady gaga, bradley cooper | kusanagi (instrumental) -odesza

— wild card - kim seokjin

↳ synopsis: a friendly competition is what brought you and seokjin together in the first place. after seven years of mario kart, poker, and many others — seokjin is ready to make you his one and only. oh wait, uno!

↳ game: uno!

↳ genre: established relationship au | x fem!reader | fluff

↳ pairing: chef!ksj x fem!sommelier!reader

↳ rating: 18+. minors do not fucking interact.

↳ warning(s): swearing, alcohol consumption, heavy kissing.

↳ what to listen to: ain’t no mountain high enough - marvin gaye, tammi terrell | what a wonderful world - louis armstrong | like water - wendy | alcohol-free - twice | fallen - mýa

— twelve points - min yoongi

↳ synopsis: your professions stop you from feeling anything too deeply, and you find that your relationship is advancing at a snail’s pace. however, after a few months of walking the tightrope, you both decide its time to speak your truth.

↳ game: scrabble

↳ genre: new relationship au | x fem!reader | fluff | angst

↳ pairing: attorney!myg x fem!private investigator!reader

↳ rating: 18+. minors do not fucking interact.

↳ warning(s): mentions of cheating (not between canon pairing). swearing, alcohol consumption, smoking. light kissing, heavy petting.

↳ what to listen to: middle of the night - monsta x | you calling my name - got7 | lilac - iu | follow you - bring me the horizon | rock with you - seventeen

— luxury tax - jung hoseok

↳ synopsis: no matter how many dates, soft kisses or hands being squeezed, hoseok’s mattress was truly all you did see. your eyes were always covered, sometimes your chest covered in hot wax. however, if you wanted a boyfriend, you’d have to pay the luxury tax.

↳ game: monopoly

↳ genre: friends with benefits au | x fem!reader | smut | angst | fluff

↳ pairing: bobarista!jhs x fem!bobarista!reader

↳ rating: 18+. minors do not fucking interact.

↳ warning(s): swearing, alcohol consumption, smut [between jhs x reader: body worship, heavy making out, breath play (m. receiving), 69 (mostly m. receiving), thigh riding, subtly loving aftercare]. sex-fueled confession.

↳ what to listen to: teenage dream - katy perry | the sweet escape - gwen stefani, akon | only girl (in the world) - rihanna | wannabe - spice girls | the feels - twice

— party girls - park jimin

↳ synopsis: after jimin ended your relationship at a party, you turned to friends to help you get through it. when your supposed best friend invites jimin to her birthday party, you feel a twinge of hurt when jimin’s hand lightly brushes yours during the game of twister.

↳ game: twister

↳ genre: exes to friends with benefits | x fem!reader | angst | smut

↳ pairing: fashion major!pjm x fem!theatre major!reader

↳ rating: 18+. minors do not fucking interact.

↳ warning(s): swearing, alcohol consumption, smoking, breakup. smut [between pjm x reader: passionate kissing, degrading, shit talking, manhandling, body worship, breast play, fingering (f. receiving), unprotected sex (against a sink), subtle aftercare.]

↳ what to listen to: i miss you - blink182 | blow - jackson wang | idea - taemin | scream - usher | gimme more - britney spears

— sweetest devotion - kim taehyung

↳ synopsis: ever since you met in the summer of 1996, taehyung was enamored by your light. nights came and went where you talked under the stars and the days he heard your laugh echoing through the castle were good. your eyes sparkled like midnight rain and your voice was sweet as honey, and your love bore fruit, as you both prepared to bring a new addition to your family.

↳ game: candyland

↳ genre: royalty au | parents-to-be au | established relationship au | x fem!reader | fluff

↳ pairing: king!heir!kth x fem!queen!reader

↳ rating: 18+. minors do not fucking interact.

↳ warning(s): swearing, smoking, alcohol consumption. heavily described: pregnancy, childbirth, simulated labor, braxton-hicks contractions, at-home/water birth. lots of crying, and kissing.

↳ what to listen to: i’m with you - vance joy | only love - ben howard | i am woman - emmy meli | so this is love - emily watts| sweetest devotion - adele

— nomination - jeon jungkook

↳ synopsis: after years of rivalry, you find that the only person competing against you to be your dorm’s resident assistant is jungkook, you decide to finally give into your stomach-churning feelings after a game of mafia. sure, you often ignored the flutter when his brows scrunched at the perfect score on your exam, but it doesn’t mean you’re made of steel.

↳ game: mafia

↳ genre: rivals to friends (with benefits) to lovers | x fem!reader | smut | angst | fluff

↳ pairing: linguistics major!jjk x fem!political science!reader

↳ rating: 18+. minors do not fucking interact.

↳ warning(s): swearing, smoking. smut [between jjk x reader: they almost fuck in a closet but get caught ; rushed kissing, crying (from pleasure), oral (f. receiving), squirting, degrading (m. receiving), jk has a split tongue, dick piercing, secret mommy/mistress kink (m), unprotected sex, post-orgasm confession, gentle aftercare.] angst, fluff.

↳ what to listen to: primadonna - marina | last friday night (t.g.i.f) - katy perry | taste - lee know, felix and hyunjin of stray kids | lovegame - lady gaga | euphoria - bts

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namjoonia · 11 months

Photo

D-2 SONG SERIES | p a r t X.

💿 D E A R M Y F R I E N D

To this day I still Miss and miss you To this day I'm still Encircled by the memories of us together

m a s t e r l i s t • || < p a r t VIII. || > p a r t XI.

CREDITS 01 | 02 | 03 || + click for best quality

#d-2 series #yoongi #agust d #guess whose back #with mediocre post #dear my friend #nell #house of ddaeng #bangtanoasis #btshoneyhive #kgfxnet

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herecomesjoon · 1 year

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The Astronaut

Pairing Jin x Reader Rating 13+ Genre/Tropes Fluff, dad!tan Warnings Just my usual heartachingly sweet dad!tan. WC 500 Crosspost AO3 - herecomessatvrn Summary Jin has a precious secret that he finally wants to share with the world. AN Not betad and written for a NanNoWriMo sprint on @bangtan-oasis and as a gift to @sunshinerainbowsbtsThe Astronaut Jin has wrecked us all I think, so here’s my little tribute for the Bangtan Bomb Idol AU world I have going on. At some point, I'll have a master reference sheet or something. Please enjoy!

Master List | Tag List Form* *No emails are collected

It was hard to believe that the life he had known for years was changing. He had put it off for too long. But now at least, he had a family. And not just BTS and ARMY, but a partner and a daughter.

Jin considered himself lucky. More so than most, and that was the reason that for so long, his personal life had been concealed from the public eye, and only shared with the people he loved most.

Yuri had grown so much over the years, and he had many pictures and videos in his phone, on his computer, that were cherished memories. Each one of them he could remember clearly. Her first steps. When she was learning to speak. Her first day of school. When each of his brothers held her for the first time. The way she would light up when she got excited. All of them, precious memories as she grew and changed.

Together, he and his partner had decided that it would be up to her, once she was old enough to understand what it meant, whether she appeared on camera to the public.

While he was working, she approached him quietly. Bowing politely when she realized that he was on a video call and excused herself to wait outside of the office. When Jin called her back in, she looked towards the webcam perched between his monitors, noting that the little green light wasn’t on.

“Appa,” she began as she approached and twisted her fingers into the hem of Jin’s sweater. She looked down shyly waiting for his attention.

“Can I be in a video?”

Jin was a little surprised. Yuri had been content thus far remaining out of the spotlight. Even in photos, she shied away from the camera. He recalled the day at the beach, just the three of them. She had been glued to his side, but when the camera came out, she darted away.

He never admitted that it hurt a little every time she did that, but it was her decision. Asking to be in a video was like a balm to his aching heart.

----------

Social media blew up in an instant. The theories and speculation. What could the song mean? Was it about ARMY? No, it's about BTS. Others suggested he was married and had kids, but it was always a joke. Because the others had said as much, of course Jin would say outright for something this important.

It was when the making of the video appeared on youtube that he made a post. From the set, the photographer had captured the moment when he was pushing Yuri on a bike, seeing her off down the road. His hand rested gently on her back, a gold band glinting on his ring finger.

And in the video, Yuri perched on his knee, laughing as they watched something not visible off of the screen. The comment with the post; “So proud of the person she's becoming. I am honored.”

AN Thank you so much for reading! Comments and feedback mean the world to me! Come say hello to me, my ask box is always open! <3

#bts fanfiction #bangtanoasis #btshoneyhive #btscarnivalnet #btswritingcafe #bangtanarmynet #kim seokjin #Jin x reader #dad!tan #fluff #parenthood #idol!au #satvrn fics #the astronaut

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agusvt · 1 year

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do you wanna have a taste?

for @cowboylikeyoongi

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minisugakoobies · 1 year

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Hungry (For Your Love) | KNJ

Pairing: Namjoon x Vampire!Reader

Genre: supernatural, slight fluff, strangers to lovers, Vamp!AU

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: swearing, kissing, mentions of blood, mentions of feeding, allusions to slaughter, Namjoon is a big buff cutie pie and honestly almost as deadly as reader

Word Count: 2.8K

Disclaimers: None, other than obviously I don’t own BTS - they just inspire me

Summary: After a century of slumber, you wake ravenous for your next meal. The first human you stumble across, Namjoon, is a fine choice. You just weren't expecting him to be so cute.

A/N: This was written for the BTS Writing Cafe's Welcome to Horrorwood event! Happy Halloween, @lokidow-strange-army! Crimson, I had a lot of fun being your ghostly friend. I hope you like this little story I've written for you. 🧛‍♀️

Thanks to @herecomesjoon and @reliablemitten for taking a look at this one! 💜

Part 2 - Fledgling

The first thing you feel upon waking is pain. Decades of slumber have left you stiff as a corpse, which you are, in a manner of speaking. Every muscle, every bone, every joint aches. Slowly, you stir within your coffin, stretching your body awake.

The second thing you feel is hunger.

It’s been nearly a century since you gorged yourself on the blood of the innocent, preparing yourself for your torpor. To sleep for such a long time requires a feast, to provide you with enough energy to sustain you for decades.

But the last of that fête has long since faded, leaving you beyond ravenous. You must feed, and soon.

Once the feeling returns to your fingers and toes, you rise. The heavy wooden door to your crypt uses up the last vestiges of your ungodly strength as you carefully push it open, peeking to see if it is safe for you to leave.

The sky above you darkens as night begins to fall. Excellent. Without the sun to stop you, you are free to roam the town in search of food.

The graveyard where your crypt resides has grown during your rest. To think that there are so many humans lying under your feet as you stagger between the headstones - so many bodies so close to you, and yet completely useless. You need fresh blood. So you push on, reaching the forest at the border of the burial grounds. Or what is left of it, anyway. For while you slept your dreamless sleep, your little town became a bustling metropolis.

In a slight daze, you wander the paved streets, staring at the tall edifices towering over you like brick and mortar mountains. Automobiles zip past you, their alien forms a barely-recognizable offspring of the vehicles you recall. Despite the fact that your home has become a booming city, there are no humans to be found on the sidewalks. The intense thirst raging inside you makes you desperate. Another block away sits a small house on the corner of the road. Moving swiftly, you climb the steps to the front door, and knock.

This should be easy. No matter who answers the door, you’ll simply hypnotize them into letting you in, then take your fill. With your considerable charm and your incredible speed, you’ll be sinking your fangs into your meal in no time.

And yet, when the door opens, you find yourself frozen, staring at the human who answers. He’s tall, with dark hair that brushes the edge of his broad shoulders. The fashion of the time is much less formal that you are used to - he appears to be wearing a simple undershirt made of cotton and what looks like denim pants, like those you’ve seen on railway workers or cowboys, and the clothing appears to be melted onto his frame, tight enough to reveal the bulging muscles beneath. Hooded dragon eyes sweep over you as you gaze at him, and plush lips open in surprise.

“Oh! Are you here for the party? Um, you’re a little early.” He lifts an arm, the thin material of his shirt straining to contain his biceps, to glance at a wristwatch. “Jin probably forgot to tell you we changed the time, didn’t he? He’s a great roommate, but he can be a little absentminded sometimes.”

The wind stirs, and you catch his scent. He smells absolutely delicious. Inhaling deeply, your head spins, saliva flooding your mouth. You long to taste him, but until he invites you in, you can’t touch him.

He gives you another appraising look, taking in your appearance. The ankle-length black flapper-like gown you slept in hugs you tightly, cap sleeves and sweetheart bodice revealing smooth skin and ample curves that catch his eye. Your lips are stained crimson from centuries of feeding. There’s a golden tint to your iris that shimmers as you meet his gaze.

You can hear the blood rushing to his face as he flushes.

“What are you supposed to be, a vampire?”

His question shocks you, and you answer without thinking. “Yes, I am.” How can he tell?

“Great costume. Love the contacts, they really make you look otherworldly.” He blushes harder, not noticing your confusion at his words, although you gather from ‘costume’ that he does not know your true nature. “I gotta put my costume on soon, but I’m just finishing up a few things first. Jin had to run to the store, but you’re welcome to hang out here with me until the party starts.” Raising his arm again, he gestures for you to come inside.

The unseen barrier preventing you from entering his home dissipates and you step forward. His musk hits you again as you brush past him. Delectable. You’re going to enjoy every moment of this.

Turning, you ready yourself to attack, only to be greeted with a blinding smile and two very deep dimples. The roaring beast inside you is instantly quelled by the sight. He’s absolutely beautiful. And rather big. When did humans get so… thick?

“I’m sorry, I’m afraid I don’t recognize you. But I haven’t met a lot of Jin’s coworkers. What’s your name?”

You murmur your name and he repeats it in his low timbre. “That’s lovely. Kinda old fashioned.”

With a coy smile, you nod.

“And I’m Namjoon. Um, but you probably knew that.” Namjoon runs his fingers through his shaggy locks, grinning at you shyly. You could eat that smile off his face. Maybe you will. “My friends call me Joon, though.”

“Joon,” you whisper, the slightest touch of enchantment drifting into your tone, and you nearly laugh at the blissful expression that steals over him for a few seconds, before the mesmer wears off. Oh, you could have such fun with this one. “Thank you for inviting me in.”

“O-of course.” He huffs a breath, trying to steady himself. Again, you hear his blood thrumming, and your fangs begin to slip forth as you imagine the first splash hitting your tongue.

An incredibly jarring buzzing rattles through the room, and Namjoon startles. “Oh shit, the cookies!” And he runs from the room. Curious, you follow him into what appears to be a kitchen. Although there are many foreign objects in the room, modern wonders that you’ll have to learn at some point, you easily identify the oven, observing as he produces a tray of baked goods from its heated belly.

“What do you think? Cute, huh?” He beams as he holds the tray out for your inspection. The cookies are in the shape of little gourds, covered in tiny orange nonpareils. Pumpkins, you remember. They’re called pumpkins. “I just need to let them cool and then I’ll add their faces. Like these!”

He places the tray on the table behind him and grabs a plate full of more pumpkins, these with garish green eyes and mouths drawn on in thick frosting. As he tips the plate towards you, he loses his grip, eyes widening as the plate tumbles and the cookies begin to plummet one by one to the ground.

With a burst of inhuman speed, you easily snatch the plate from midair, catching each of the falling cookies before setting it back on the table. All within a blink of Namjoon’s wide eyes.

“Whoa! How - how did you do that?”

“Good reflexes,” you purr, one shoulder lightly lifting in a shrug.

He shakes his head. “That was like some Twilight shit. You’re really committed to your costume, huh?” Again he laughs while you pretend to understand his meaning. You’ve got quite a lot to catch up on.

But that’s not important right now. What is important is the sweet nectar rushing just below the surface of that supple skin. You swear it’s getting louder and louder.

“I’ve got one more tray to go in while I wait for these to cool - oh, shit, I’m sorry, do you want a drink? I’m such a bad host.” He gestures to a counter where dozens of bottles of various libations stand. “Jin had to go get some ice, but I think we have a little in the freezer if you want a mixed drink. Or we also have soju, beer, or wine?”

“I would love a drink,” you inform him, lips quirking in a secretive smile as you eye his neck. His pulse point seems to thump under your gaze.

“What’s your poison?”

Humans. Weak, stupid, vile little humans. That’s what you prefer to slake your thirst. It’s not that you always hated them. You were once one of them. But that was eons ago. Over the millennia, you’d grown tired of their foolish ways. That was why you’d chosen to slumber for so long, in the hopes of waking to find a new age filled with more enlightened beings instead of the senseless masses hellbent on driving the world to ruin with their greed and hatred.

Caught up in your thoughts, it takes you a minute to realize that Namjoon is waiting for your response. His warm smile is so endearing. And he seems so kind. Maybe you’ve awoken at the right time? “Wine, please.”

“Red or white?”

“Red. Such a beautiful color,” you sigh.

The vintage he pours you is sweet, if a bit cloying. Still, the scarlet liquid momentarily quenches you as you take a seat on the kitchen stool he pulls out for you. The sugar provides a much-needed surge of energy.

You’re still planning on draining him dry, but… perhaps it wouldn’t be so awful to talk to him a little first. Maybe try to find out more about this new world before you attempt to traverse it.

Also, he’s incredibly handsome, so why not enjoy the view a bit longer?

Once he determines that you’re settled, Namjoon turns his attention to the pile of dirty dishes in his sink. “Like I said, I haven’t met too many of Jin’s coworkers. Are you also in mergers and acquisitions?”

“Yes, I am.” It’s always best to go along with whatever your victims believe. Makes for fewer questions.

He pauses, glancing at you over his shoulder. “Wait, you’re not the one they call ‘the Shark,’ are you? He told me that’s someone’s nickname, someone with a knack for using a company’s weaknesses against them. You know, like a shark sniffing out blood.”

You nearly choke on your wine but manage to swallow it down smoothly. “Yes, that’s me. You could say I have an… instinct for that type of thing.”

Namjoon raises an eyebrow as a faint smirk crosses his face. “Then I guess I’ll have to be on my guard around you.”

If only he knew. “What about you, Joon? What do you do?”

Drying his hands, he returns to the cookies. “Perfect, they’re cool enough that the frosting won’t melt. Um, I’m an historian for a local art conservancy.”

“Oh really? That sounds fascinating.”

He laughs, head bent over the pumpkin he’s decorating. “It’s okay, you don’t have to pretend. I know it doesn’t sound very interesting. Most peoples’ eyes tend to glaze over when I tell them what I do.”

“I am not most people, Joon.”

The regal tone in your voice makes him look up. He’s silent for a moment as he gazes at you before he returns to his work. “No, I would say you’re not,” he murmurs under his breath, an aside that your keen ears catch.

Now that your wine glass is empty, you feel the stirrings of your hunger starting to grow again. It sharpens your tongue. “I have no patience for useless conversation, so believe me when I say that I’m interested. What drew you to your work?”

Those dragon eyes observe you closely again. “Do you really want to know?”

“Did I not say to believe me?”

Namjoon’s cheeks flame briefly. Oh, how his blood sings. “I’ve always had a love for art and history, and this combines the two. But to be completely honest… to me, these ancient artifacts are the voices of those who came before us. The least we can do is preserve them, so future generations can listen.” He keeps his head ducked, chuckling at himself. “That probably sounds incredibly lame, right?”

“Not at all.” A human after your own unbeating heart. How marvelous. “I understand exactly what you mean. It’s important to listen to the past so we can learn from it. Or so I’ve always believed.”

“Exactly.” Relief washes over his face. He finishes the last of his cookies, sliding the plate towards you. “I just realized I haven’t even offered you a cookie yet. Would you like one?”

Human food is largely unappealing to you. And you can’t say you find the bright orange and green coloring very appetizing. The obnoxious timer buzzes again, alerting Namjoon that the last batch of cookies are done, and as he strolls past you to the oven, his scent shrouds you like a heavenly cloud, wrapping your mind in a complete haze.

With his back to you, he can’t see the way your eyes glow, golden irises expanding until no white remains. He doesn’t note how your canines lengthen, slipping past your lips. No one bears witness to the way you quiver as that intoxicating smell hits your nostrils again. He’s going to taste so sweet, you just know it.

“All right, just need to let these cool and I’m done! Thanks for keeping me company. I hope I haven’t been boring you.”

You merely hum, lost in the rapture of his mouthwatering aroma. Finally, you can’t take it anymore, overwhelmed by the consuming need to plunge your fangs deep into his veins and suck out the lifeforce pulsing inside, and you creep up behind him, hands curling into talons, ready to grab and bite, when he suddenly yelps.

“Ah, hot! Shit!”

Having grabbed the still hot tray without an oven mitt, he quickly retracts his burnt hand, whirling around, and his flailing limb smacks into you. Temporarily stunned, weakened after so long without feeding, you immediately drop towards the ground, only to find yourself hovering inches above the tiles, caught in Namjoon’s strong arms.

Namjoon looks almost as surprised as you are to find himself in this position. To anyone else looking in, the two of you would appear to be locked in a lover’s embrace.

Maybe it’s the pose. Maybe it’s the way he gazes at you, eyes filled with a desire that matches the hunger roiling within you. Maybe it’s the thirst driving you mad, but as you stare up at him, you think, what a divine creature he is, and resolve in that moment to let him live.

And maybe keep him.

“I’m sorry,” he rumbles. The hand on your back shifts, warmth spreading across your chilled skin as he slowly brings you back to your feet. His other hand cups the nape of your neck and stays there, even once you’re standing on your own. “I’m just a big clumsy oaf sometimes.”

“I think you’re lovely,” you declare, choosing honesty over bewitchment, pleased when it has the same result. His mouth gapes slightly, eyebrows disappearing under his bangs, before a soft smile settles over his features.

There’s no mistaking the way his eyes keep dropping to your lips, even before he begins to whisper, “Can I kiss you?”

You give the briefest of nods before his mouth meets yours. At first, his lips move lightly, treating you as if you’re delicate. That won’t do at all, so you lean into him, threading your fingers through his silky hair to urge him closer. Flicking your tongue across the seam of his mouth, you grin as he groans, and slip into the opening his reaction provides. There’s an undercurrent of something in his kiss, something wild and untamed churning just under the surface, yearning to break free. It calls to you as forcefully as his blood does.

You’re definitely keeping this one.

His face is red as he pulls away, a slight pant to his breathing. “That was nice. I, uh, don’t usually kiss someone I’ve just met like that.”

That shaky sentence tells you that he feels the same strange connection you do. With cool fingers, you tenderly cup his cheek. “I’m pleased you made an exception for me.”

With that kiss, you decide on a change of plans. Tonight, you’ll stay for the party. Pick a random guest, sneak them away and drink your fill, and then return to this curious little human’s side. There’s so much you’ve yet to learn about him.

Thank the old gods you have an eternity to do it.

Please don't be a silent reader! 🥺 I’d love to know what you think - my inbox is always open! 💕

Masterlist 🎃 Find me on AO3 🎃

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#namjoon x reader #namjoon x you #kim namjoon x reader #kim namjoon x you #horrorwoodcafe22 #btswritingcafe #thebtswritersclub #btshoneyhive #btscarnivalnet #bangtanoasis #bangtanarmynet #kim namjoon fluff #bts fluff #namjoon fluff #possumswrite #fic: hungry (for your love)#namjoon fanfic #kim namjoon fanfic #bts fanfic

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magicshopaholic · 6 months

Text

Flight Risk (Yoongi x OC)

Summary: Just when you and Yoongi might be becoming friends, you become a liability.

Pairing: Yoongi x OC

Genre: Angst

Word count: 9.8 K

Rating: 18+

Warnings: mature themes - language, smoking, mentions of homophobia, parental abuse, anxiety, dubious consent, sexual harassment

A/N: A very different tone than the rest. Mature themes; read the trigger warnings before proceeding. Set a couple of weeks after A Night Of Firsts.

Tagging: @bbl32 @quarter-life-crisis2 @meirkive @faearchives @margopinkerton @dreaming-with-happiness @confessionsofamarshlily @purpleseoul7

Listen to: "u.r.a. fever" by the kills

yoongi masterlist | main masterlist

The moment Miso wakes up, her stomach squirms in discomfort.

It takes her a few moments to realise why. The sun is bright through the gaps in the curtains and her meticulously-set alarm went off on time. She sits up slowly and brushes her bangs messily off her face, frowning until she hears his voice and her stomach automatically squirms again.

He’s still here. He hasn’t left yet, even though he usually does by now. He’s late and despite not knowing why, Miso feels her chest contract in automatic fear.

She needs to be in the studio in one hour. There’s no option to be late today; Yoongi will have her head. This project is bigger than you, Kang Miso, he will say. She will reply with As long as you don’t take yourself too seriously with a roll of her eyes, he will wrinkle his nose and suggest she work with another producer if she has such a problem with him, and she will be forced to reiterate once more that she was assigned to him and that her assignments are not in her hands. People can’t switch teams of their own accord, Min Suga.

It will go exactly like this. It’s how it goes every time.

Miso stands motionlessly under the shower and then gets dressed, keeping an ear out the whole time for his voice. He still hasn’t left; despite how quiet and calm it is, it’s a sound that can cut through the air for her.

Finally, she has no choice but to descend the staircase, where she pauses midway. She can spot him - both of them - at the dining table, their housekeeper moving silently between them at opposite ends as she serves them breakfast.

His coffee is untouched. Miso exhales shakily; something is wrong.

She shuffles quietly to the open kitchen behind the dining table, uncertain if he’s seen her. His gaze is on his eggs benedict, but that means nothing. There’s a stack of fresh toast and baos straight off the stove on the kitchen counter, steam still rising from them. The rest are at the centre of the table, but Miso takes a plate and takes one of the hot ones when she sees his head move infinitesimally to the side.

No longer having a choice, she moves to the table, taking a seat on the longer side in between both occupants. Heart thumping, she gingerly picks up the bao and bites into it.

“Good morning, Miso.”

His voice is calm as ever, but she almost drops the bao. The steaming filling burns her lip but she stays put, eyes watering slightly.

“Good morning, Father.”

They lapse back into silence. She takes a silent sip of water, taking care to let it soothe her burning lips and glances at her mother. She sits still, her back straight against the chair, her hands clasped on her lap. She stares blankly in her husband’s direction, eyes glassy. Her plate is empty.

Miso can feel goosebumps erupt on her skin. The housekeeper appears behind her and soundlessly pours her a coffee.

“Where were you yesterday, Miso?” Kang Jaesung asks.

“At the studio, Father. At Big Hit.”

“And after that?”

“I went to get a coffee and a sandwich.”

“Where?”

“The new Caffeta coffee outlet. In Gangnam,” she adds.

Her father doesn’t ask anything further. Miso risks a glance at him to see him still eating. A large emerald ring sits on the middle finger of his right hand, and her stomach squirms again.

“Were you alone?”

Before Miso can answer, a soft scoff is heard from the other end of the table.

“Obviously.”

Kang Jaesung ignores this. Miso resists the urge to turn to her mother, knowing she would much rather take her mother’s surface insults over making her father wait for an answer to his question.

“Yes.”

“Did Seungkwan drive you?”

Just like all the questions he’s asked so far, Miso knows he knows the answer to this. He knows everything. It’s just safer to assume that way, because it’s usually the case.

“Yes.”

Her father nods. “Did he drive well?”

Miso’s heart races, for there’s no obviously correct answer to this. “He - yes. Like normal.” Then, in a rare move because she can’t resist, she continues. “Is something wrong?”

“There’s a scratch on the bumper.”

“Oh.”

“Don’t worry. Seungkwan is taking care of it.”

Miso’s eyes flicker to his emerald ring again, the stone looking big and dark in the pastel dining room. She doesn’t know what this means, how to respond to this, or if she’s even meant to.

He finishes his breakfast and dabs his mouth with the napkin, before abruptly standing up and leaving the room. Miso hears the front door close but doesn’t look up from her plate, despite feeling her mother’s burning gaze on her.

She has about twenty minutes to make it to the studio. Her heart still beating uncomfortably, she leaves the moment she hears her father’s car drive away and heads to her own car, wanting to see this scratch for herself.

The sleek black Range Rover stands in the driveway like always. Even before she reaches the car, she can see the scratch; a small, minute imperfection near the bottom of the bumper. Her father would have noticed it immediately.

It had to have happened when Seungkwan was parking the car last night, she thinks, as the car leaves the estate, for it was the only time she wasn’t in it. She meets his eyes in the rearview mirror accidentally, a red mark visible on his cheekbone. Miso thinks of the emerald stone on the back of her father’s hand and looks away quickly.

She stares out the window, her chest still tight. Seungkwan has only ever been nice to her, but he’s still her father’s employee. Her movements are watched, and her father isn’t doing so himself.

The drive is quiet as always. Miso looks out the window and puts on her headphones, no music coming out of it. She needs to be alert, but it’s better to not show it. Her knuckles are white where she’s clutching the strap of her bag until they reach the Big Hit building and the car stops right outside the front doors. She hurries out, eager to put some distance between herself and the fancy car with the uniformed driver.

Miso proceeds in through the glass doors and down the lobby, forcing herself to slow down and walk normally. Seungkwan can still see her, she knows; the reflection of the car is still visible in the glass panes of the building. She walks straight to the lifts and presses the button, holding her breath. She risks a glance over her shoulder to see the car still there, the red cut on his cheekbone discernible even from a distance, his dark eyes directed towards her.

The lift opens and five other people get in with her. Miso shuffles to the back, too wary to exhale in case it’s too loud. She can feel Seungkwan’s gaze in her direction until the lift doors close. One by one, the rest of the occupants get off on their respective floors until it’s just Miso remaining. The moment the lift doors close again, she audibly lets out the breath she’s been holding and bends over, her hands on her knees, and gulps in the air. For the first time since she’s awoken today, her chest loosens a bit.

Her heart slows down slightly as the lift reaches the top floor and when the doors open again, she steps out calmly and makes her way to Yoongi’s studio.

��

Yoongi leans closer to the mic and closes his eyes, concentrating on the music in his headphones and waiting for the beat before he begins his rap verse. He taps the right headphone to the rhythm and begins right on cue, opening his eyes slowly to see someone tapping on the plexiglass of the booth.

He stops abruptly and takes off the headphones. “What is it?” he asks, trying not to sound too disgruntled at being cut off. He wouldn’t ordinarily care but for this track, he cares. The man outside, Jung PD, lead producer in his forties, looks pensive as he motions for Yoongi to come outside. Behind him on the sofa is Hwan, nineteen year old ex-idol, whose forehead creases when the recording of his debut solo gets interrupted.

Yoongi’s eyes flicker to Hwan and back to Jung PD, who he knows wouldn’t get involved unless it’s serious. He glances at Hwan again, who’s trying and failing to not look worried. For Hwan, he cares.

“What is it?” Yoongi repeats when they’re outside the studio. “Hyung?” he adds belatedly.

Jung PD bites his lip. “How is Hwan doing?”

“Fine. For a rookie whose group disbanded overnight.” There’s a pause. “What’s wrong?”

“How far along are you on the recording?”

Yoongi raises his eyebrows at the obvious evasion of the question, but answers anyway. “Close to finishing. Hwan recorded his vocals in one day. He’s extremely talented,” he adds after a moment. “We can be done with editing by tomorrow and Marketing can release it on Friday, just like they planned.”

Jung PD rubs at his eyes tiredly. “Yoongi…” His gaze flickers to the studio behind him, where Hwan is no doubt sitting inside, wondering what the hell is going on out here.

Something catches in Yoongi’s chest. “What?” he whispers urgently.

“We have to scrap the song. I know it’s last minute, but complications have come to light and we have to -”

Yoongi doesn’t realise he’s already shaking his head. “No. No, no. PD nim, this was always the plan! The song releases Friday, and our tour kicks off in Seoul on Sunday!” he whispers furiously. “Hwan is a guest artist and he gets his publicity! After everything he’s been through - come on, we can’t do this to him.”

“Yoongi, I understand. I understand this is important to you - you don’t give the “Prod Suga” suffix to just anyone -”

“Hwan needs this!” Yoongi presses the heels of his palms to his temples. “He took years to debut and then his group disbanded over a scandal that had nothing to do with him - and then YG just abandoned him. I brought him here, I convinced him to join -” He breaks off, shaking his head. “What happened? Why - why do we need to cancel?”

“It’s got nothing to do with Hwan,” says Jung PD, quickly and deliberately. “We will find him something else - he just needs to wait it out a little longer.”

“If he doesn’t have this song, he has nothing,” says Yoongi flatly. “You know that. The company hasn’t officially signed him. This is all on the back of this one song - one song that Miso and I have been working on non-stop for two weeks.”

Jung PD sighs. “About Miso -”

“She’s doing a lot better,” he interrupts frantically. “Forget what I said in our last meeting. It’s - it’s working out now. She wrote most of this song, in fact -” He breaks off, realising he’s rambling.

“Any way you get her off this project?”

Yoongi frowns incredulously. “No,” he answers, sharper than he’d intended. “Not after she got swindled out of having her name on the Jungwon-Minji collab.” He can’t quite tell Jung PD how hesitantly she’d enquired about her name being credited on the collaboration - and how, after losing out because of award nomination politics, Yoongi hadn’t been able to stop thinking about how he’d let her down, even though there wasn’t a lot else he could’ve done.

“This is her song. Look, can you just tell me what’s wrong?” he asks after a moment. “Maybe there’s a different way around this. Maybe we don’t have to scrap anything.”

“Do you know who Miso’s father is?” Jung PD asks in a low voice.

“I - yes. What does that have to do with -”

“One of his brands is launching a campaign next week - Guasha, a skincare brand,” he says. “They’ve invested a record amount of money on product placement and whatnot and their biggest competition right now is Innisfree, whose brand ambassador is -”

“Hwan.” Yoongi blinks, hoping his hunch is wrong. He clears his throat. “But he owns a hundred brands - why does he care about this one so much?”

Jung PD frowns at him as though he’s missing something obvious. “Because his daughter can’t be seen collaborating with his competition. It’s either her or Hwan. So unless we ask Hwan to break off his contract -”

“We can’t do that.” The words are out of Yoongi’s mouth instantly, even as his heart sinks. He turns to look at the boy through the sliver of glass in the studio. “It’s - it’s his only source of income. We can’t… we can’t. How - how did Kang Jaesung even find out about this collaboration? He’s the only shareholder who’s never given a crap about our releases before.”

Jung PD shrugs. “No idea. Maybe because his daughter is involved? Proud dad and all? Either way, he’s scrapping it.” He scoffs. “I’m sorry, Yoongi. We’ll try to find Hwan something else and if we can’t…” He sighs. “He’s a talented kid. That always matters.”

No, it doesn’t. Yoongi doesn’t say it, because he doesn’t need to. He knows Jung PD has definitely seen more talented kids fall through the cracks than he has. YG had been ignoring Hwan, but he still had a contract with them. They could’ve done something for him had Yoongi not convinced him to give Big Hit a chance instead.

He swallows. “We can make a new song,” he blurts out.

“You’re going on tour, Yoongi,” reminds Jung PD gently.

“Not for almost a week. Worst case, they push the release by a week and he features in our second concert instead of the first. We can still -”

“You have to get approvals, Marketing needs to work on a whole new campaign.” Jung PD shakes his head in sympathy. “I’m really sorry, Yoongi. I’ll speak to Hwan if you want.”

Yoongi screws his eyes shut before opening them and sighing. “No. I should do it. I should talk to him.” He glances back at Hwan again, his slender figure on the sofa, holding up the lyrics sheet and practicing by himself. Yoongi can’t hear him, but he can imagine the sweet, melodic voice that made him shine during his short-lived debut, coupled with his graceful, almost feminine movements on stage.

“I should talk to him,” repeats Yoongi, feeling sick with guilt. His eyes flicker to the side when he spots a movement and sees Miso step out of the elevator, expensive headphones on her head and striding down the hall without a care in the world, blissfully unaware of the damage being caused by her very presence. “But I need to talk to someone else first.”

They meet halfway, Miso raising her eyebrows in acknowledgement and checking her phone. “I’m here a minute early,” she states dryly.

“Bully for you. Can we talk?”

Without waiting for an answer, he pushes open the door to an empty studio right next to him and strides in, hearing her footsteps behind him and the door closing. He turns around to see a frown flit across her face momentarily.

“Is this because I didn’t bring you a coffee this morning?” she quips, folding her arms across her chest. “Because you look way too serious for ten am, Min Suga.”

“Just… stop… talking.” Yoongi’s voice trembles in fury, and he tries to rein it in. “You… your -” He presses his tongue against his teeth, trying to find the words. “Hwan is not getting his debut,” he says finally, quietly. “A kid with more talent than half this building put together, who had a bad, bad hand dealt to him isn’t getting his last, deserved shot… because of Kang Miso, princess of nepotism.”

Miso’s eyes flicker with confusion. “What the hell are you talking about? Why isn’t Hwan -”

“Your father is shutting down the song,” he snaps, taking a step towards her. “Because a competing brand’s ambassador can’t be associated with his precious daughter’s music. You wrote one song in your whole life, sitting in your fancy fucking mansion while being waited on hand and foot. Hwan is the oldest of four siblings. He has only one parent left, and he’s trained until his feet bled to be able to provide for them! And now he can’t because of -”

She swallows but doesn’t move. Even through his anger, Yoongi can tell she had no prior knowledge of this. But he doesn’t care. They’re only inches apart; he can see her shock and realisation all at once, but the way she holds his gaze makes him take a step back.

Miso licks her lips slowly. “What do you want me to do about it, Yoongi?” she asks quietly.

“Fix it.”

“I can’t. My father is -”

“I don’t give a fuck.” He takes another step back, resisting the urge to grab her by her thin shoulders and make her look him in the eye. “Your rich people's problems aren’t going to take this away from Hwan, or from me. Fix it,” he repeats. “Say whatever you need to to get your father’s head out of his arse or - you know what? I want you the hell off my team.”

She swallows and shakes her head. “Yoongi, you - you know I was assigned to -”

“If your father has the power to take away someone’s big break to satisfy his ego, he has the power to get you reassigned.” He ignores how she blinks rapidly, how her previously straight shoulders are hunched, how the guilt seems to expand in his chest for a moment. “I don’t want to see you in my damn studio ever again.”

He turns around and yanks the door open, stalking out and leaving her alone in the dark.

—

Miso doesn’t see Yoongi for the rest of the day. She doesn’t even try to seek him out; not once has he ever lost his temper with her like that and she has no idea how long it takes for him to cool down from something like this. She does see Hwan in the break room and darts away before he sees her, ducking into Donghyuk’s studio and desperately hoping he has some work for her today.

Around lunch time, she calls Seungkwan and he drives her to the last place she wants to be at, but the only one she can think of going to right now.

Kang Industries looks as intimidating as its owner, and just as impenetrable. The inside of the sprawling building is glass and stone, giving it the aura of a modern day tech prison. She takes the elevator all the way to the top floor and to the corner office; despite having been here only once in her whole life, she remembers it with striking clarity.

Her heart thumps against her ribcage as she nears it, spotting her father through one of the glass walls. He’s standing with three other men, all of them speaking while he stays silent, nodding only occasionally.

For a moment, Miso feels like turning around on the spot and running away. Let Yoongi hate her. She’s handled worse. But then, almost as if he’s heard her, Kang Jaesung’s eyes dart lock onto her. The impact of it makes her reel and she immediately lowers her gaze.

At the same time, his secretary spots her from the desk outside the office. She scrambles to her feet instantly and hurries towards Miso.

“Oh, Miss Kang!” she exclaims in surprise, seeming a bit flustered. “Please, uh - have - have a seat. I’ll inform your father that you’re -“

“It’s okay, I can wait until he’s -“

“Nonsense!” she interrupts in a high-pitched voice. “I’ll tell him his daughter is here and his meeting -“ She glances towards the room in a panic, and Miso can tell that she’s conflicted about which might be more important to him.

Fortunately, her speaker crackles to life just then.

“Send her in.”

The secretary exhales in transparent relief. “Right this way, Miss Kang.” She ushers her to the door of the office, just as it opens from the inside. One of the men, who she knows works for her father, is holding the doorknob while two others sit inside in similar-looking dark brown suits, facing her father’s desk.

“Excuse me, gentlemen.” Her father’s voice is calm but firm. “We will have to take a short break. My daughter is here.”

Both men seated turn to look at her and the younger one, dressed sharply with perfectly styled hair and an air of arrogance, raises an eyebrow. He turns back towards her father, presumably to argue, but something makes him stop. In spite of herself, Miso can empathize.

Kang Jaesung waits patiently and says no more, until all three of the men file out. The youngest one, in the brown suit, brushes against her as he leaves. His eyes land on her and narrow, clearly insulted at being deprioritised. Miso looks away, waiting until they leave to step inside.

“I’m sorry for not calling ahead, Father.” She clears her throat, hoping her voice will stop shaking. Her father doesn’t generally respect underconfidence - or confidence, making it a fine line she needs to toe in order to appeal to him. “I - I can wait outside until you’re done with your meeting.”

“My daughter can’t be seen waiting here,” he supplies, typing something onto his phone and taking a seat behind his desk. “It’s bad for the family. It’s the only reason your mother shows up here on occasion.” His eyes flash with something and Miso realises with an uncomfortable twist in her stomach that he’s just made a joke.

Unsure whether she’s meant to react, she shuffles slightly and places her hands behind her back, standing straight. Her heart is beating too loud now, loud enough that she’s sure he can hear it.

“My time is too valuable to waste, Miso.”

“Of course.” She clears her throat again. “Father, I…” It will do no good to beat around the bush. It occurs to her now that her father knew this morning at breakfast that he was shutting down this release, which could have been the reason he’d stayed late. Her gaze falls to the emerald stone on his finger again and Seungkwan’s bruised face flits through her mind.

“I wanted to talk to you about… about the song that Big Hit is planning to release on Friday. By Hwan, produced by Suga of BTS. Written by me,” she adds after a moment. Her father observes her motionlessly, and his gaze feels piercing. “I heard that - that you’re unhappy with it and you… you don’t want it released. I would like to ask you to reconsider.”

His gaze is unmoving. “Why?”

Miso thinks about the list of reasons Yoongi had hissed at her and mentally throws them in the bin. Her father won’t care less about Hwan’s family situation or anyone else’s career.

“It’s produced by and featuring a BTS member. They are kicking off their world tour this weekend and have this song on their setlist already, meaning this song is going to be streamed all year. It will generate a lot of revenue for the company.”

His expression doesn’t change. “Every song this label puts out is streamed all year. That’s why I invested in it. Is that it?”

“Um -” She exhales shakily. Nothing else she’d rehearsed all morning comes to mind anymore. “I’m a writer,” she confesses quietly. “I - I wrote this song, most of it. It’s the first time I will ever be credited on a song.” Please don’t take this away from me. Not again.

Her father stares at her for a moment and finally shifts, leaning back in his chair for a moment. He crosses his legs and places his hands in his lap, his jaw sharp. “What do you think will happen if my daughter’s name is on a song that’s marketed under the name of a competing brand ambassador? Have you thought about that?”

“Nobody reads the names of the writers on a song,” she reasons. “No one - no one will care. It’s just… I wrote it. It’s just my name on a piece of paper inside the CD, in tiny font.”

“Your name,” he says clearly, “is my name. And my name is going to be nowhere near a man like that, who dances with other men and wears clothes like a woman.” He clicks his tongue and his upper lip rolls in a sneer. “Celebrating a man preening over his skincare. The depths this country is sinking to…”

Miso holds her tongue, privately thinking that she should’ve guessed that her father’s problem extended to more than just competing brands. Hwan - beautiful, sweet-voiced, ballet-trained Hwan - personally offended Kang Jaesung.

“I’ll take my name off the song,” she offers at last, her heart sinking. “My - your name won’t be part of the release at all.”

He raises his eyebrows. “How noble. Unfortunately, it doesn’t matter. I’m still a shareholder, so I can’t sign off on it.” He slides a sheet of paper off his desk and begins reading it with disinterest, signalling the end of the conversation.

Miso swallows. “Please,” she pleads softly. “Father, I’ve never asked for anything -” She quells under the sudden look he gives her.

“You’ve never had to,” he states, and for a moment he sounds like Yoongi. “Do you know how people who don’t have everything handed to them go about a situation like this? They offer something in return.” He pauses, watching her stonily. “It’s called a quid pro quo.”

She purses her lips, willing herself to stay calm. The anxiety is bubbling up and threatening to choke her, for she has no idea how to go back to Big Hit now, how to face Hwan… how to face Yoongi. His face burns in her mind, the disgust and lack of respect so clear in his features.

“You see that young entrepreneur out there?” Her father asks, his gaze directly on her. “Don’t look,” he hisses when her head automatically turns. She immediately turns away, catching only a glimpse of the aforementioned entrepreneur’s glare in the direction of this office. “Lee Jiho. He’s an idiot. His name may be on the company, but none of what he has is his doing. His Chief of Strategy is the real brains behind the operation.”

Miso guesses the older person with Jiho is the Chief of Strategy. It takes all her willpower not to turn again.

“Lee Jiho is an idiot, but somehow, he tapped into the right market segment. I want to buy him out,” he declares, leaning back in his chair again. “But he doesn’t want to sell to me. Not at the price I’m asking.”

She nods and lowers her gaze. He’s making a point and the only thing left to do is to hear him out and nod on cue. Her eyes start to sting but it would be a mistake of massive proportions to let her father see her cry.

“Convince him to sell to me.”

It takes Miso a moment to realise he’s expecting a response.

“Um… you want me to -”

“Any stock price that might fall due to a competing brand will get covered by the savings I make on this purchase.” He shrugs. “Convince him to sell to me and I’ll sign off on your song.” When Miso doesn’t respond, the corner of his mouth rises in satisfaction. “But you don’t think you can do that, do you?”

“Thank you for your time, Father,” she whispers, waiting just long enough for him to acknowledge her before she turns and walks out of his office. She almost bumps into Jiho and his entourage outside, who seem to have been waiting for her to leave, the former giving her a mildly appraising look. His features are sharp and pointed and expensive, his cologne reeking of new money.

“My daughter,” says her father from behind her. Both of them turn to look at him, and Miso doesn’t miss his small raise of the eyebrows towards her. It’s a challenge, one he only proposed because he knew she would back down from it. Kang Jaesung does not lose, ever, and he does not care who he is going up against.

“Miss Kang.” Lee Jiho bows stiffly the same time she does before they shake hands. Up close, he can’t be more than a year or two older than her, but something about the way he looks at her over his slanting nose makes it clear that he’s still miffed over having his meeting interrupted by her presence.

“Pleasure to meet you,” she mumbles before slipping out and hurrying away. She doesn’t stop until she’s out of the building and inside the car, away from her father’s turf. Her chest feels heavier than ever with the knowledge that this trip achieved nothing except putting her job on her father’s radar and giving him the satisfaction of pleading with him for something.

As the car pulls up outside Big Hit, it takes her a few moments to move. Yoongi will be in there somewhere, she thinks, angry and disappointed, with no one to blame but her. Until this morning, the Big Hit building felt like her only haven, the safe place she could go to that did not, for all intents and purposes belong to her father, without drivers and gardeners keeping an eye on her or her mother’s constant judgement following her around.

Kang Miso. Princess of nepotism. He hates her, and she can’t even defend him.

She can’t go inside the building now. The rising fear of what Yoongi might say if he sees her keeps her rooted to the car seat. She wonders when his opinion had started mattering this much to her, when the blazing fire in his eyes as he stood inches away from her had made her want to douse it instead of walking away.

It’s either Big Hit or Kang Industries. Miso’s stomach rolls; it’s three pm and it occurs to her vaguely that she hasn’t eaten after that singular bao at breakfast. Despite that, she feels like throwing up. Either Yoongi hates her forever, or she risks taking her father up on his deal and potentially failing at it.

The fading bruise around her wrist seems to burn. Failing is not an option, not when it comes to her father. Having Yoongi hate her would be hard, but she can get over it. She remembers how he had offered to drive her home a few weeks ago after they’d spent half the night at his studio. He remained the first and only person in her entire life to extend such an offer without seemingly expecting anything in return, and her surprise at it had visibly confused him.

It’s either Big Hit or Kang Industries.

—

It’s still dawn when Yoongi’s phone rings, jerking him awake.

“What?”

“Come to the studio!” The person at the other end of the call mirrors none of Yoongi’s sleepy annoyance. “Now!”

He groans and rolls over in bed, still in the jeans and t-shirt he’d been wearing all day. “Why? What’s - what’s happening?”

“We’re releasing the solo!” Jung PD’s voice is frantic and forcibly quiet, as though he’s trying to pace himself. “Hwan’s solo!”

Yoongi sits up with a jerk, his head pounding with the whiplash. “What are you -”

“He must have given up his contract with Innisfree,” he says excitedly. “Either way, Marketing just dropped an email - if we can get them the final version by ten pm tonight, they’ll release it on schedule!”

“But -” Yoongi shakes his head and rubs his eyes. “How did - what about Kang Jaesung and his -”

“Fuck him!” Jung PD uses a word he’s never used in Yoongi’s presence before. “Once the song is out there, he can’t do anything about it. For now, we’re in the clear - so get in here! Now!

Yoongi is at the Big Hit building in under twenty minutes. An intern hands him a strong coffee the moment he steps out of the elevator and he sees a group of people assembled outside his studio, comprising Hwan, Jung PD and two assistant producers.

“The smaller the group, the quicker this will go,” explains Jung PD when Yoongi raises his eyebrows. “We have -” He checks his watch “- fifteen hours to get this done.” Next to him, Hwan nods hopefully, wringing his hands in anticipation.

Yoongi nods, making a mental note to tell Namjoon he was right. He hadn’t been as worried as Yoongi yesterday, adamant that these things worked out somehow.

Maybe Hwan will choose his art over his brand deals, he’d said wisely. Some people take that call. Jungkook did.

Yoongi had looked at him incredulously. Jungkook was fifteen! And he took a really stupid risk, all things considered. He’s just lucky it worked out.

We’re all lucky it worked out, Namjoon had pointed out, frustratingly reasonable. Hwan is older, meaning he’ll realise the importance of his work as an artist.

Yoongi had stared at him, lost for words, not knowing how to explain to the philosopher in Namjoon that realising the importance of art and having the freedom to choose it were two very different things.

Miso can’t do anything about this? Namjoon had asked after a minute, making Yoongi’s anger cloud his worry once more.

Fuck her, he’d seethed. This is all her fault. He hadn’t elaborated any further, unable to find the words to explain that for a moment after Jung PD had given him the news, his first instinct had been to defend Miso. Days of working together in a closed studio had facilitated a rapport between them, enough for him to pick up on her hard work and talent, not to mention the lack of boredom that made him sometimes wait for her to arrive in the morning. But none of that compared to just how stupid he felt for forgetting, even for an instant, where she came from.

He scans the group in front of him again and feels a begrudging satisfaction that she wasn’t called to rush over here. She’s a writer of the song, for better or for worse, and she will be credited. But when it comes to the hustle, to back-breaking hard work that can only be a result of desperation and everything to lose, someone like her has no business being here.

There’s no time to lament about his lapse in judgement, or about how he can’t help but feel a little uneasy at working on Miso’s song without her present. But he powers through, for Hwan’s sake. Hwan, to his credit, gives every last bit of his effort, singing the same lines over and over again without complaining, concentrating on Yoongi’s ad libs, focusing on the arrangements until it’s nearly eight pm, and they finally have their track.

“What do you think?”

Yoongi watches Namjoon and Hoseok, both of whom happened to be in the Big Hit building as well. His eyes are dry and he feels light-headed with fatigue, but his mind is buzzing a million miles a second. He needs this to release tonight, the rest of the weekend will have to be devoted to rehearsals until they take the stage on Sunday night for the first concert of their tour.

“It’s fantastic,” says Hoseok, as the track comes to an end. Behind him, Namjoon nods in agreement.

“Namjoon?”

“He sounds incredible.” Namjoon pats Hwan on the shoulder. “You’ll go far, kid.”

Hwan looks like he could weep with joy as he nods, watery-eyed and sniffling. “What do you think, hyung?” he asks Yoongi, eyes full of hope. “Is it good enough? Do you think they’ll release it?”

“They’ll release it,” confirms Jung PD, entering the studio as he hangs up on a call. “I just got the go-ahead. They can’t shut it down without losing money on all the promotional material, so as long as it passes the audio approvals in the next couple of hours, it’ll be done.”

There’s a smattering of applause and relieved chuckles from around the studio. Yoongi runs a hand over his face and smiles tiredly at Hwan. “Go home and take a shower,” he advises him.

He frowns. “Why?”

“We can’t have a solo debut without a release party,” says Jung PD, as though it’s obvious. “Granted, it won’t be as fancy as a pre-planned party, but nothing about this release has been traditional so far,” he adds, and a few people laugh.

Yoongi notices Hwan’s hesitation. “I’ll sit with the Audio team,” he assures him. “This track won’t be out of my sight for a second until it’s officially out.”

Hwan nods and wipes his eyes as subtly as he can and everyone awws, Hoseok and one of the assistant producers throwing their arms around his shoulders and squeezing him. It’s an organic moment of camaraderie after over twelve hours of work; Yoongi can’t help but be extremely proud of Hwan.

“I’ll get the admin team to send out a mass email to the department to come over in a couple of hours.” Jung PD waves his phone and steps out, already making the call.

Everyone shuffles out after that, Namjoon giving Yoongi a last relieved high-five before leaving. Once he’s alone, Yoongi sighs and takes a seat, trying to squeeze in a minute of rest before heading over to the Audio team. He doesn’t foresee any problems there per se, but it requires plenty of concentration that he needs to gather from somewhere.

After five minutes of stretching and finishing the last of the Red Bull in the studio, Yoongi stands up and quickly emails the track to the Audio team, marking it URGENT. Taking a copy of it in a pendrive, he reaches for his bag and at the last moment, remembers to take the sheet music just in case it’s required. Straightening the sheets, he sees the names on the front page. Suga of BTS. Hwan. Kang Chanel.

Yoongi pauses. The mass email to the department will include her for certain. His heart skips a beat at the thought that she will most likely not come to the party, and won’t hear how her own song turned out until the rest of the world does.

The smallest twinge of regret at how he’d spoken to her yesterday begins to take form in the bottom of his stomach. He thinks of how, nearly a year ago, he’d visited her house on an invite, not from Miso, but from her father. She hadn’t said a word in his presence, but the way she’d abruptly gone silent had been so uncomfortable to watch that Yoongi had accepted the invitation without even considering it, just so her father would leave.

You don’t know my father.

She’d said that to him at her house and while he hadn’t pried, it hadn’t quite left his mind either. He swallows and shakes his head; he can’t afford these thoughts right now. He’ll apologise to her later if he needs to; after all, it’s still Hwan who gave up his contract.

With that in mind, he turns off the light and leaves the studio.

—

For a last minute gathering catered by the bakery from the Hilton down the street and leftover liquor from Big Hit’s last party, Yoongi walks in to see far more people than he’d expected. Fortunately, the office’s entertainment hall seems to have been available and after some minimal decorations, at least part of the crowd seems to know what they’re here for.

He spots Hwan near the stage, looking fresher than he’s seen him all day, talking to a couple of other artists. Deciding to let him have his moment, Yoongi slinks over to the makeshift bar and pours himself a small whiskey, watching the night finally coming together after two days of chaos.

Jung PD comes over to him a little while later. “Did Audio sign off?”

Yoongi nods. “They wanted this released just as fast as we did, I think,” he says in a low voice. “I don’t know if they know about the… situation, but they were more cooperative than I’ve ever experienced.”

He chortles. “That’s good. Do you have your speech ready?” he asks, just as the music fades away.

“Speech? Come on,” he says, rolling his eyes even as he spots Hwan jogging over to them. “I shouldn't be -“

“This is all because of you, hyung,” he gushes, rosy-cheeked, his thick black hair bouncing on his forehead. He grabs Yoongi’s wrist and steers him towards the stage. “You have to say a few words.”

There’s some clapping and hooting which completely drowns out Yoongi’s feeble protests, but the small and proud part of him chooses to play along and he hops up on the small stage, barely two inches off the ground.

“Um -“ Yoongi clears his throat. Now that he’s up here, he realises the number of people who showed up was more than he’d initially realised. He scans the faces, some unrecognisable, until he spots Hwan and Jung PD standing in front, and feels a rush of happiness for them.

“I shouldn’t even be the one up here,” he begins, fiddling absently with his glass of whiskey. “But now that I am, I think this night won’t be complete without thanking a few people without whom this wouldn’t have been possible. As you know, we had some complications -” He pauses while a few people chuckle “- but we did it in the end.”

Hwan looks thrilled, now not even bothering to hide the fact that he’s crying. Yoongi thinks about what he’s given up already, about all the faith he’s kept in him so far, and his heart twists with affection.

“The Marketing team, for their stellar promotion and last-mile effort; Minji and Adora, for the background vocals they came up with on the spot,” he lists, pausing after each statement for people to applaud. “The Audio team for giving us the fastest sign-off in the history of Big Hit -” There are a few more laughs as one of the Audio reps raises his glass in acknowledgement. “Jung PD, of course, for being the mentor and producer I can only hope to be like one day - and Hwan, of course, for the dedication and talent like no other.”

The applause is far louder now, with cheers and hooting, and Yoongi joins in until he spots Miso’s face towards the back of the room. His smile fades and for a moment, so does everything else.

He should thank her. He knows he should. As a writer, Hwan would quite literally not have this song if it weren’t for her. His eyes drop to the floor before meeting hers again. She’s wearing an olive green dress, her pale and slender arms crossed protectively over her chest. She doesn’t smile at him, but there’s something hopeful in her face.

Yoongi exhales; after yesterday morning, he might just owe her this, even if it’s just to bury the hatchet. But then a movement catches his eye and he sees Jung PD hugging Hwan, and considers how inappropriate it might be to thank Kang Jaesung’s daughter in front of Hwan, one day after he’d almost lost everything because of a powerful billionaire.

He swallows and clenches his jaw. Maybe this isn’t the right forum. She’ll still be credited as a writer and that’ll be forever. That was all she ever cared about anyway, to be credited.

“To Hwan,” he says finally, watching with a sinking stomach how her face falls slightly while the room erupts in applause again. It disappears in a flash, however, and she takes a deep breath before turning and murmuring something to the man beside her. Yoongi frowns; he hadn’t even noticed this person until now, with sharp features and a suit, a distinct, hulking look as he stands just behind her so her shoulder grazes his tie.

He vaguely registers Jung PD stepping up to the stage and looks away to give him the mic. By the time he turns back to where Miso was, she’s gone, with her companion following her outside.

Yoongi stares at her vacant spot with unease. He tries to remember the fury he’d felt yesterday morning when the song was being shut down, but it seems ridiculously far away. What seem closer are the days they spent producing the song together in the studio, rewriting the words over empty cups of coffee, and the look on her face when he’d told her to get off his team.

“Hyung, is everything okay?” Hwan asks a few minutes later, when the speeches are over and the music is louder.

“Fine.” Yoongi forces a smile and shoves his free hand in his pocket. “What about you? Are you ready for Sunday night?”

“Am I ready to perform at a BTS concert?” He lets out a low whistle. “It’s like a dream, hyung. I still can’t believe it.”

“You’ll believe it when you have to spend the next three days in rehearsals.”

“That’s not a problem,” he says immediately. “I can’t wait. I’ll have to talk to my agent about timings, though - he’s got me a meeting with Puma and Innisfree also wants to meet -”

“Wait, Innisfree?” Yoongi frowns. “Are they trying to get you back? I suppose you can now, after the song has been released.”

Hwan looks confused for a moment before shaking his head. “No, no, I didn’t break my contract. I didn’t need to - can you believe it? Jung PD just called me this morning and told me to come in and I couldn’t believe my luck.” He tilts his head curiously. “I was actually going to ask you about it. I thought you would know what happened.”

Yoongi’s heart starts beating fast - very fast. His mind isn’t able to spell it out immediately but the way his stomach jolts, he knows the only other thing that could’ve made this song go through. He looks to Jung PD and something in his expression makes the older producer usher Hwan away before speaking further.

“I got an email last night,” he says after a moment. “Miso offered to take her name off the song. About half an hour later, Legal emailed me saying that their complication has been removed. It’s not hard to put two and two together.”

Yoongi bites his lip, taking a deep breath through his nose and exhaling shakily. “And the reason you didn’t tell me this was because…?”

“I didn’t think you’d do it if you knew she wasn’t getting credited,” he says apologetically. “Not after the Jungwon-Minji collaboration. Yoongi, you have a good heart but we just couldn’t risk it getting in the way of this release,” he continues quickly. “We’ve invested too much - and think of Hwan! Think of how he -”

“You lied to me!” Yoongi whispers furiously. “How - how could you do that? She and I worked on this together! She’s - we’re -” He breaks off abruptly, feeling an unexpected heat creep up his neck. “She’s my assistant producer! How is it going to look, that someone from my team forgoes credit twice?”

“You’re covered there,” he replies immediately, to Yoongi’s surprise. “She switched to Donghyuk’s team just before writing to Legal, so technically, she was off your team when she stepped down. It won’t go on your record at all.”

Yoongi feels like he’s underwater. “How -” He shakes his head, recalling the number of times he’s suggested switching teams, and her exasperated response each time. “She - she was assigned to me. People can’t just switch teams of their own accord.”

Jung PD gives him a look that makes Yoongi want to hit him. “You know who her father is, Yoongi. All she had to do was drop one email and she could switch to any team she wanted.”

—

What if I fail, dad?

Believe me. You don’t want to fail.

Even as an eleven year old, her father’s words had sent shivers up her spine. She had failed anyway, losing the spelling bee to her cousin, whose father had then brought it up at a family dinner party. The next day, Miso’s pet rabbit disappeared. Upon asking, her father had silenced her with a stony look.

Failure has consequences. Your rabbit should be the least of your concerns right now.

Miso had been devastated beyond words until a week later, when their housekeeper had sneaked into her room and informed her that their gardener, who had been instructed to take care of the rabbit, had instead given it away to his brother’s children who lived near the outskirts of the city.

It hadn’t helped too much, for every imagined scenario of her pet rabbit stayed burned in her brain anyway, flashing through her mind every time the possibility of failing her father loomed close.

I’ll sign off on your song. Convince him to sell to me.

Miso’s father had kept his word; the song will be out to the public in a few hours. But it doesn’t let her off the hook, for if she isn’t able to convince Lee Jiho to sell his company to her father, there’s no telling what could happen. If she’s lucky, all he will do is take away her job. If she isn’t… her rabbit flashes through her mind again and she shivers.

“Are all your work parties like this?” Jiho looks around with barely-concealed judgement. He places his glass of untouched whiskey on a table and slips his hands into his pockets.

“They’re usually more… planned,” she admits. She wishes she hadn’t brought him here. Her idea had been to help him get his guard down, maybe get him a little drunk and start talking up her father’s company. A party at Big Hit typically meant a celebrity or two as well, which was usually an added bonus for most people.

Jiho, however, it became apparent soon, thought he was above entertainment entirely. Far from impressing him, she worries she’s putting him off even more than he already seemed when she’d called him earlier today on the pretext of “getting to know him better”.

“Do you want to step outside?” she suggests. “It’ll be quieter…” She tries to shrug her shoulders in a flirty manner, feeling both nervous and ridiculous.

Jiho fixes her with his gaze, and Miso feels a crawling sensation up her back. Somehow, he has a tendency to make her feel like she’s being studied.

“Sure,” he says finally. They walk out of the party together and to the outside, near a gazebo and a closed coffee cart.

“Do you smoke?” he asks, placing a cigarette in between his teeth and lighting it. When she nods, he offers her the pack and waits for her to ask for the lighter.

“I got it,” he mutters, and steps forward to touch the tip of his cigarette to hers. His eyes stay on her as he towers over her figure, backing her up against the wall behind her. Miso freezes, but before she can react further, he takes a step back.

She exhales shakily and takes a long drag, almost gagging at the thick, unfamiliar taste of old school cigarettes. For a moment she thinks about the last time she shared a cigarette with someone, the minty flavour and begrudging friendship tied to it.

Miso shakes her head. She can’t think about him right now.

“You know,” begins Jiho, blowing a long string of smoke into the air. “I’ve been in a lot of meetings with a lot of important people. But none of them have been interrupted midway quite like the one with your father yesterday. Definitely not for…” His gaze drops to her and he narrows his eyes curiously, as though sifting through the words in his mind. “… a daughter,” he says at last.

So it’s been playing on his mind since yesterday. Miso swallows and nods.

“I’m sorry about that,” she says, giving him a small smile. “It was… it was important. There are some things only my father can fix. He’s a useful person to have on your side.”

Jiho nods, raising his eyebrows. “That’s touching. Unfortunately, that’s not what it looked like from where I was sitting.”

She’s failing. She can feel it. Her pulse starts racing in anxiety.

“My father holds you in very high regard.”

“Really? He told you that?”

“Of course,” she lies easily. “I… forgive me, but I don’t make it a habit to ask for the number of everybody my father does business with.”

He gives her that same appraising look again, as though she’s an object at an antique sale he’s trying to price.

“That’s good to hear, I suppose. Although,” he says a moment later, “if he does hold me in such high regard, why is he trying to buy me out at a lower price? Why isn’t he paying me what I’m worth?” He takes a step closer to her with his last word.

He’s too close for comfort. “I don’t pretend to understand the ins and outs of how he does business. I’d rather leave that to someone with more experience,” she adds, gesturing slightly towards him and seeing his acknowledgement of it. “But… he’s a very valuable asset. His partnership can offer you a lot more than money.”

“Is that so?” His voice is soft and the faintest smile flits across his face. “Well,” he says, exhaling and dropping the extinguisher cigarette on the ground, “he’s your father. I’ll take your word for it.”

Miso stares, somewhat confused. It doesn’t seem like the conversation is over, but there’s an air of satisfaction about him.

“That’s… that’s good.”

Jiho gives her the closest thing to a smile since she met him yesterday. “So. What is it worth to you?”

Something uneasy stirs in her stomach. “What do you mean?”

He doesn’t look away from her. “Well. I’m guessing your father sent you here to sweet-talk me into this deal. Must be that partnership you’ve told me so much about,” he adds, chuckling softly.

Two things happen around the same time. The first is her realisation that beyond a certain point, her father did not care about Big Hit releasing a song or who the artist was. What he wanted was an entrepreneur’s company for cheap, and what he needed was his daughter indebted to him to the point of doing whatever it took to pay him back. He’d played the long game, possibly all the way since breakfast yesterday morning.

The second is Jiho’s forehead clearing when he’s satisfied that she understands what he means.

Miso swallows, her heart hammering in her chest as she imagines the feel of a rabbit’s fur between her trembling fingers. “Are you serious?” she whispers, without thinking.

Jiho shrugs. “Depends. Do you want this sale to go through or not?”

She remembers the glare he’d thrown her yesterday at the father’s office when his meeting had been interrupted for her. For her father, this is business. For Jiho, this is ego. Either way, Miso can’t see a way out.

Yoongi is contemplating leaving the party early when he finally sees Miso again. Hugely relieved that she’s still here, he pushes through the crowd and jogs towards her.

“Miso!” he calls, reaching her just when she whips around at the sound of her name and her eyes go wide at the sight of Yoongi. “Listen, I - I need to talk to you.”

Before she can say anything, however, the same guy who had been standing next to her during Yoongi’s speech steps forward. In his indigo blue suit, he looks ridiculously out of place at this party.

“We’re in a bit of a hurry right now,” he says smoothly. “Maybe later.” He moves to leave, his hand big and unwelcome on the small of Miso’s back.

Yoongi fights the urge to slap it away and blocks their way. “Look, I don’t know who you are, but I really -” His gaze drops to Miso, who looks more troubled than he’s ever seen her. All sorts of unimportant things like writing credits and songs fly clean out of his mind; something is not right. “I really need to talk to you,” he says softly. He watches her carefully and just when he thinks he’s imagining things, she gives him an imperceptible shake of the head.

The man behind her steps forward so he’s beside her. “I’m Jiho. I’m a… a business associate of Kang Jaesung’s,” he says deliberately, with a sinister sort of pride in his voice. “And you are?”

Something cold sinks into Yoongi’s chest. Just like before, he can’t quite spell out what it is but he knows, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that he can’t let Miso leave with this person. He ignores the question and keeps his gaze on her.

“Miso,” he repeats, a little more urgently this time. “It - it’ll just take a second. It’s about work.”

Jiho - Yoongi can’t recall if that’s his name - scoffs, clearly affronted at being ignored. “Miso, do you know him?” he demands.

Something flickers in her eyes before stabilising. “Just some guy I work with,” she murmurs.

“No…” Yoongi says it under his breath, his frown deepening. “Miso -“

But he falls silent when her eyes flash momentarily. There’s no anger there, or betrayal. It’s a warning: don’t get involved.

“Let’s go.” Yoongi catches a glimpse of her wrist just before Jiho wraps his fingers around it, and notices the mark he’d spotted last time, but far more faded.

Before he can say anything else, Jiho elbows him out of the way and they leave. Yoongi waits for a couple of seconds for Miso to look back at him, to give him some hint that she knows what she’s doing. But she never does. He stays rooted to the spot until they disappear around the corner, fear gripping at his heart, when a switch flips and he races after them.

He takes a call between the parking lot and the entrance of the building and hurries towards the former, stopping in the dark lobby to see a grey jaguar outside with a driver in the front, waiting with the headlights on. Behind him, the back door is open as Miso climbs into the back seat, Jiho still gripping her wrist.

“No!” Yoongi doesn’t grasp immediately that he’s shouted out loud, but it’s only when Jiho frowns for a second and looks around that Yoongi realises they can’t hear him. He hurries across the lobby as Jiho gets in the car as well and shuts the door behind him.

“What are you doing?” he shouts. “Miso!” But by the time Yoongi runs through the automatic doors and reaches the porch, the car has driven away.

—

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