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brookghaib-blog · 1 month ago

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The ghost I left behind- III

Pairing: Robert 'Bob' Reynolds x reader

Summary: Y/N and Bob had a life before he disappear, full of love, hope, and a lot of chaos, but they managed each other, she was the only one who truly could make him avoid the void inside his mind. How could he turn his only light into a shadow in his mind ?

Note: I kinda wanted to make this more of a filler chapter, because I didn't want to write the whole movie when it doesn't really make sense for this idea, I promise you a more fullfilling chapter next, and the emotions and action will be there!

Word count: 6.3k

Chapter II, IV

O.X.E Research Lab. - Malaysia

The hum of fluorescent lights was constant — like static pressed against Bob’s skull. The air was cold, colder than it should’ve been for a place buried under the jungle. Concrete walls closed in around him like a tomb.

He sat alone on the cot in the corner of his cell — no, not a cell, they called it a room. White-walled, sterile, like something out of a hospital, only there was no comfort here. Just observation windows and cameras that never blinked. On the wall across from him, a single metal shelf held the only thing they’d let him keep — a small, worn photograph of Y/N, curled slightly at the corners. She was smiling in the picture, standing barefoot in their kitchen, holding a mug of coffee. Her hair was messy, her eyes tired but warm.

Bob stared at that picture like it was oxygen.

He hadn’t seen her in months. He hadn’t heard her voice, hadn’t felt her hand on his back when the nightmares got bad. But he remembered everything — the sound of her laugh when she teased him about the chicken suit, the way she’d breathe when she fell asleep next to him. The feel of her lips against his shoulder. The way she’d told him she was pregnant — shaking, terrified, and hopeful all at once.

He remembered what he’d said to her that night.

“I’ll get clean. I’ll be better. I want to be the kind of man our kid looks up to.”

And then he left.

He hadn’t told her. Hadn’t said goodbye. He boarded a plane with a one-way ticket and a pocket full of cash he’d scraped together, believing that leaving would present her with a greater good. They promised change. Power. Control. All the things he’d never had. All the things he thought he needed to deserve her.

And now?

Now the power was eating him alive.

The door to the room opened with a hiss. Two armed guards stepped aside as Dr. Lenhart entered, clipboard in hand, eyes cold behind her glasses.

“Subject 44. The team is ready.”

Bob didn’t look at her. His fingers grazed the edge of the photograph once more before standing. He didn’t resist as the guards strapped a control collar around his neck and led him down the corridor.

The room he entered was massive. Sterile. Circular. Glass walls separated the observation deck from the inner chamber. Bob stood in the center, machines humming to life around him, sensors pulsing against his skin.

“Begin neurological synchronization,” a voice echoed overhead.

Bob closed his eyes.

At first, there was silence.

Then came the whispering.

Not in words — not exactly — but in feelings. Rage. Hunger. Emptiness.

He clenched his fists, his breath growing erratic. The air around him shimmered, warped. Lights above flickered, then dimmed to nothing. A black mist seeped from beneath his feet like smoke rising in reverse.

“Restrain output—he’s losing control!” came a panicked voice behind the glass.

But it was too late.

The shadow lashed out like lightning — instinctive, desperate, alive. It slammed against the walls, shrieking with a sound that wasn’t made by any throat. Two technicians in hazmat suits tried to flee, but the black tendrils struck faster than thought. One hit the floor, his body shriveling in seconds. The other screamed — then there was only silence.

And in the middle of it all stood Bob, hovering inches above the ground, his eyes pitch-black, veins glowing faint blue beneath his skin.

Then — darkness.

Bob woke up on the floor, shivering.

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed. Minutes? Hours?

He pulled himself to his knees, the collar around his neck heavy like guilt. His head pounded, his limbs ached, but worse was the silence in his mind — not peace, but absence. Like something had used him, then left.

He looked up and saw the bloodstains. The security footage, replaying silently through the tinted glass window. Two lives lost. His hands.

“No,” he whispered, scrambling back, pressing his back to the wall.

His breath hitched as he fumbled for the shelf — for the photo.

There she was.

Still smiling. Still beautiful.

Still waiting.

“I didn’t mean to…” His voice cracked. “I didn’t want this. I didn’t want this, Y/N. I just wanted to be enough.”

He buried his face in his hands, shaking.

“I miss you,” he whispered into the silence.

A sob broke loose. He clutched the photo against his chest like it could stitch his soul back together.

“I’m trying to fix this. I swear I’m trying. I just… I thought that I would be dead by now.”

No answer. Only the sound of the distant hum of machines and the slow drip of water somewhere in the corner of the room.

He leaned his head back against the cold wall, eyes glassy, voice no louder than a prayer.

“Please… wait for me.”

2 months after

The corridor had no way out, and the new team was looking for an exit, Bob just stays put.

“Bob,” Yelena snaps over her shoulder, pausing. “You’re falling behind.”

He doesn’t answer. His eyes are hollow, shoulders hunched under the weight of guilt and grief. The ground beneath them trembles—security drones are drawing near.

“I'll stay” he finally says, voice like crushed gravel. “I’ll just slow you down. It's better for everyone if a just...stay put.”

Yelena walks back toward him. “No, Bob, if you stay you will die.”

“Well it's...whatever” he breathes out. His jaw is tight, his fists clenched. “I don't deserve people saving me, I'm just being a burden to you guys, it's ok, go.”

Yelena’s expression softens, barely perceptible beneath her hardened demeanor. She steps closer.

“Hey, hey, wow, ok, I get it, we all have a void inside of us, we all feel like shit, and alone, but don't let that consume you, you are someone. You just have to control it.”

Bob doesn’t answer. His jaw trembles.

“What do you do to control it?”

Yelena gives him a small smile. "You push it down, like down, you push it."

Walker turns, a huge hole he punched in the wall. “Hey! If the therapy session is over, we have to go.”

She walks ahead without waiting for a response.

He starts walking behind her.

Back in New York

Across from her, Mr. Cooper grunted as he settled onto the floor with a sigh of relief, one leg stretched out, the other bent to cradle his back.

Sunlight poured through the open windows, warming the small apartment with its soft, golden glow. The living room was a mess of wooden planks, screws, and folded instructions spread across the floor like a chaotic puzzle. In the center of it all, Y/N sat cross-legged, squinting at the manual with a furrowed brow and a pencil tucked behind her ear, like that somehow made her more capable of interpreting the impossible hieroglyphs IKEA had decided passed for “assembly instructions.”

“I think I pulled something just by looking at that Allen wrench,” he muttered, rubbing his hip.

Y/N giggled softly, setting down the manual. Her belly, now visibly showing as she reached five months, shifted with the movement, and she instinctively rested her hand on it. “We’re not even halfway done. Are you telling me you’re tapping out already?”

“I’m old, sweetheart,” he said with a gruff smile. “I tap out every time the weather drops below seventy.”

She shook her head with a grin and leaned over to pick up a wooden side panel of the crib. It was pale honey-colored oak, sanded smooth, gentle with age. It had once belonged to Cooper’s granddaughter, and now it would belong to her baby.

“You really didn’t have to give me this,” she said, her voice softening.

“Yes, I did,” he replied without missing a beat. “No child deserves to sleep in one of those plastic nightmares. And no mother should go through this alone.”

That word — mother — still settled strangely on her shoulders. Like a coat she was trying on, not quite fitted yet.

She glanced at him, her smile more subdued now, thoughtful. “Thank you.”

He waved it off, leaning back against the wall. “Enough of that. Tell me how the new job’s going. Still wrangling tiny lunatics all day?”

Y/N laughed, genuinely this time, the sound echoing off the walls of the small room. “Yeah. It’s chaos, but kind of... perfect chaos. I mostly work with toddlers. I feed them, change them, read stories. Try to keep them from painting on the walls or eating glue. It’s exhausting sometimes, but... I really love it.”

Cooper watched her closely as she spoke, the weariness on her face dulled slightly by something new—something lighter. Peace, maybe. Or the distant shape of it.

She picked up a small wooden bar and held it like a sword. “Today one of them tried to put mashed peas in my shoes. Another fell asleep on my lap mid-story and started snoring like a little old man. And during snack time, this one girl kept hugging my belly like she knew. Like she knew, you know?”

Her voice softened. “And every day I’m there, I realize more and more... I want this. I want to do all those things with my baby. The feeding, the stories, the naps. I want to see them take their first steps. Hear their first words. I don’t want to miss that.”

She paused, tears stinging lightly at the corners of her eyes, but she blinked them away before they could fall. “I stopped looking for couples. I think I knew deep down I couldn’t go through with it. I was just scared... not of the baby. Of doing it alone.”

Mr. Cooper didn’t speak right away. He reached over and gently patted her hand. His weathered fingers were rough but warm.

“You’ve been through hell and back, Y/N. And you’re still here. That baby’s lucky already.”

She gave a teary smile. “Sometimes I still hope he’ll come back. That Bobby will just... walk through the door one day, stupid grin on his face like nothing happened.”

“That kind of love,” Cooper said, after a long moment, “is the kind people go their whole lives never finding. But love’s only half the battle. Raising a child, choosing to stay... that’s the rest. That’s the hard part.”

Y/N nodded, looking down at the crib pieces. Her fingers grazed over the smooth wood, the future taking shape beneath her hands. She felt a soft flutter inside her, the baby moving, stretching gently like they knew she was talking about them.

“I just want to give them a better start,” she whispered. “Better than what I had.”

“You already are,” Cooper said.

They sat in quiet for a while, sunlight casting long shadows on the floor. The crib still unfinished, the future still uncertain—but for the first time in a long while, the air felt different.

A thought crossed her mind. "You think he's okay Mr. Cooper?"

He looked at her, a sad smile in his face, "I hope so sweetheart, I really do."

Bob was indeed not okay

The room was colder than he remembered.

There were no windows. No clocks. No reflections. Only the hum of warm orange lights above. He was laying on a bed, rather confortable if he's allowed to say.

The door creaked open, slow and theatrical, and in walked Valentina Allegra de Fontaine, a ghost in high heels and silk. She didn't sit immediately. She liked to hover, to stalk, her movements measured and deliberate.

“Hi Bob! How are you? <Are you confortable?” she said casually, as if they were old friends catching up over coffee.

Bob didn’t answer. His jaw tightened, but he kept his eyes on the floor. The room felt like a trap, but he was too tired to pretend he wasn’t already caught.

“I imagine you’re wondering why you’re still alive,” she continued, circling him. “I thought you were another failure, turns out here you are.”

His breath hitched. “Where am I?”

“Home, for now” she said sweetly.

She finally took the seat across from him, folding her arms on the table like a therapist in disguise.

“You’re a miracle, Bob. My miracle. A walking success story. Do you know how many billions were poured into the O.X.E. Project before we got it right? You’re the first. You’re what we’ve been trying to make for years. You’re the product of patience. Genius. Sacrifice.”

“Don’t,” he muttered.

Valentina’s voice sharpened. “I’m not here to coddle you. I’m here to offer you purpose.”

“You signed up for a medical study, which was, as advertised, at the cutting edge of human improvement. But not everybody could handle the amount of greatness that we had in mind—”

His gaze flickered up to her, hazy and wet. “You used me.”

“We made you,” she snapped, then caught herself, letting the corners of her mouth twitch back into a smile. “And you’re more than even you realize. You just need someone who believes in you. Someone who knows what you’re capable of.”

Bob swallowed, teeth gritted. “Where's Yelena ?..., they’re good people. They don’t deserve whatever you’re planning.”

Valentina tilted her head. “They’re weapons, Bob. Trained killers. Criminals really. You think they’ll stop if I tell them to go after someone? You think they won’t? That’s the kind of world you’re in. And that’s the kind of world she’s in, too.”

She slid a photograph across the table.

His heart stopped.

It was her.

The same photo he almost forgot he had on his room in the facility he went to for the experiment.

Bob reached for the photo like it might disappear if he blinked. His fingers trembled as they hovered over it, then finally closed around the edge.

“She’s okay,” Valentina said, almost kindly. “Five months now. Still looking for you. Still crying over you. Still believing in you. Kinda of a bummer that she's alone isn't it?”

A tear slipped down Bob’s cheek as he stared at the image. “I never wanted to leave her. I—I thought if I got better, if I could just fix myself, I could come back. I wanted to come back.”

Valentina leaned in, voice low. “You can.”

He looked up at her. "Where is she? How did you find her?"

“I know a lot about you. I know about your mom’s mental illness, I know about your addiction,your fathe. But does that matter? You can come back stronger. Better. As someone who can protect her. Provide for her. Be a real father. A real partner. But you have to work for me, Bob. You have to give me loyalty. Just a little time. Just a few assignments. And then, I promise—on my name—she’s yours again.”

Bob shook his head slowly, horror creeping in. “You’re threatening her.”

“I’m protecting her,” Valentina said calmly. “From you. From the others. From this world that doesn’t care who she is or what she’s been through. You want to keep her safe? You work with me. You do what I say. Because if you don’t... there are people out there who won’t hesitate to use her against you.”

Bob’s hand clenched around the photo, crumpling the edge.

“You don’t understand my love,” he said, voice cracking.

“I don’t have to,” she replied. “But I can use it.”

He looked at her then, really looked. The truth was a blade in his chest. He was powerful, but powerless. Strong enough to rip holes in the sky, but too broken to say no.

“She’ll hate me.” he whispered.

Valentina stood, brushing invisible dust from her lapel. “Maybe. But hate is a lot like love, Bob. It sticks. It burns. It means you still matter.”

She walked to the door, heels clicking.

“I'll be back when you're feeling better, it's your best interest to control yourself and all your powers.”

The door closed behind her with a final click.

And Bob sat there in silence, holding the photo of the only person who ever saw him as more than his darkness.

His fingers trembled as he whispered her name.

“How did I ended up here baby...”

Y/N's pov

The lights were dimmed in the small examination room, a soft hum of fluorescent bulbs vibrating overhead. Y/N lay back on the cold, paper-covered chair, the crinkling noise far too loud in the silence. Her shirt was rolled up, exposing the gentle curve of her belly. She was twenty weeks now, and this was her first real appointment.

She hadn't meant to wait this long, but money and despair had a cruel way of making even basic things feel unreachable. If it hadn’t been for Mr. Cooper, gently reminding her, pushing through her deflection, she might’ve kept pushing it off until she gave birth alone.

The doctor entered with a warm smile, her presence calm and kind, a middle-aged woman with soft eyes and a practiced touch.

"Hi, sweetheart. I’m Dr. Hale. Let’s have a look at this little one, okay?"

Y/N nodded, her throat too tight for words. She tucked her hair behind her ear and tried to relax. She hated that her hands trembled.

Dr. Hale squirted the cold gel onto her stomach, and Y/N winced. "Sorry about the chill. It’ll warm up in just a second," the doctor said, already moving the wand across her skin.

The screen flickered to life beside her. Grainy black-and-white shapes slowly came into focus — shifting, fluttering motion, something alive. Her baby.

Y/N stared. She forgot to breathe.

"There we are," Dr. Hale whispered, smiling at the screen. "Look at that heartbeat. Strong little one, isn’t he?"

Y/N blinked. “He?”

"It’s a boy," Dr. Hale said gently. “Congratulations, mama.”

Y/N’s mouth opened but no sound came out. Her eyes welled up fast, tears rising before she had time to prepare for them. Her lips trembled and she brought a hand up to cover her mouth, the other resting gently over her belly.

A boy. She was having a son.

“He’s measuring well, right on time,” the doctor continued, her voice soft, respectful of the emotion clouding the room. “You’ve done a good job, keeping him strong.”

But Y/N was crying now — quiet, broken sobs — as she stared at the screen. Her baby. Bobby’s baby. And she was seeing him for the first time. A little fluttering shape that would one day have Bobby’s eyes. Maybe even his shy smile.

Dr. Hale handed her a tissue. “It’s okay. First appointments can be overwhelming.”

Y/N laughed softly through the tears, nodding. “Yeah. That’s one way to put it.”

“Your partner must be so happy too,” the doctor added casually, glancing at the monitor. “First-time dads are always in awe during these appointments.”

Y/N’s face froze. She didn’t correct her. She just offered a small, practiced smile. “He is. He… just couldn’t be here today. But he..he's really happy.”

Dr. Hale nodded, not pressing. “Well, this little boy is lucky. You clearly love him very much.”

Y/N looked back to the screen, to the blurry shape moving softly on it, and swallowed hard. Her fingers tightened around the paper sheet beneath her.

“He’s everything.” she whispered.

2 years ago

The scent of warm fries lingered in the car, mingling with the soft hum of the engine and the quiet tune playing from the radio—something 90s, something nostalgic. Rain tapped gently on the windshield, coating the windows in glistening beads that shimmered under the glow of the streetlight outside the McDonald’s parking lot. The inside of her old sedan was cozy and dim, fogging slightly from their breath and the comfort of shared laughter.

Bob was in the passenger seat, slightly turned toward her, his long legs awkwardly folded into the too-small space. A crumpled paper bag sat between them, half-spilled fries poking out. He held a burger in both hands, but he hadn’t taken a bite in at least a minute—too caught up in the way she was telling her story, animated and full of wild hand gestures, her eyes lit with mischief.

“No, no, wait,” Y/N laughed, nearly choking on her own drink as she swatted his arm. “You have to picture it—this man, right? Full suit. Hair greased back like he’s somebody’s boss. He’s barking at me because his order had pickles when he said no pickles—like it was a personal betrayal. So I’m standing there, biting my tongue, trying not to say ‘Sir, I don’t make the sandwiches, I’m just handing them to you.’”

Bob chuckled, already smiling because he could hear how this story ended. “And then?”

She grinned, pausing for dramatic effect, fries in hand like a microphone.

“He turns too fast, slips on his own spilled soda, and I swear to God, it was like a slow-motion movie scene. Both arms flail, legs go out, and bam—on his ass. The sandwich goes flying. The drink lands on his lap. And everyone just… stares.”

Bob was wheezing, struggling not to spit his drink out. “You’re lying.”

“I swear,” she said, holding up two fingers in mock oath. “The ketchup packet even exploded. Right on his white shirt. Like something out of a damn Tarantino film.”

They both laughed so hard it hurt, leaning toward each other in the cramped space of the car. Bob wiped a tear from his eye and looked at her, still giggling with her hand pressed to her chest, eyes watery from the laughter.

He couldn’t stop looking at her.

He’d never met anyone like her before—someone so unapologetically alive. She wasn’t like the people from his past, people who only spoke in hushed tones and looked at him like he might break. She was loud and kind and brilliant and chaotic in the most mesmerizing way. And somehow, for reasons he still didn’t understand, she liked him.

Y/N caught him staring, mid-fry. She tilted her head. “What?”

Bob blinked, startled. “Nothing. You’re just…”

“What?”

He gave a shy shrug, reaching down for the last fry in the bag. “You’re just…funny.”

“Funny?” she repeated with a smirk. “That’s it?”

“And cool,” he added quickly. “And smart. And, uh—” he hesitated. “Your storytelling is…top-tier.”

Y/N narrowed her eyes playfully and leaned back in her seat. “You’re weird, Bob.”

He smiled at the dashboard, face warming. “Yeah. I get that a lot.”

She nudged his arm with hers, shoulder to shoulder. The warmth of her touch buzzed through him. “Wanna come back to my place?”

His eyes snapped to hers.

“I mean,” she added, lifting an eyebrow. “We could watch something. A movie or whatever.”

Bob turned red instantly, so red it almost glowed through his hoodie. “Uh…”

“Oh my God,” she laughed, leaning toward him with her lips curled in amusement. “What were you thinking I meant?”

“N-Nothing!” he stammered, though his voice cracked. “Just—just a movie. Yep.”

She tilted her head and smiled wider, teasing. “You totally thought I was seducing you.”

“No, I didn’t!” he said, his voice too high, too defensive.

“You absolutely did.” She laughed again, softer this time. “I could see it in your eyes. You went all deer-in-headlights, Bobby.”

He looked away, scratching the back of his neck. “I mean… It’s our third date…”

“And we haven’t even kissed,” she said, more gently this time. She was looking at him, really looking. “That’s okay, you know.”

Bob nodded slowly, still not meeting her eyes. “Yeah. I know.”

The car grew quiet for a moment. The kind of quiet that wasn’t awkward—just full of unspoken things. The rain was heavier now, soft and steady, a lullaby on the roof.

Then Y/N leaned over slightly, not enough to make it too serious, just enough that her shoulder brushed his again. “So… you wanna come over or not?”

He turned toward her again, finally smiling that crooked, shy smile of his. “Yeah,” he said softly. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

She winked and started the car.

Y/N unlocked the door with one hand and flicked on the hallway light with the other, her apartment filling with a warm, amber glow. It was a small space—cozy more than cramped, cluttered with personal touches: a stack of books that lived on the coffee table, mismatched throw pillows that had clearly been collected over time, a framed Polaroid of her and some friends stuck to the fridge with a glittery magnet shaped like a donut. It smelled faintly like vanilla and old incense.

“Home sweet home,” she said, kicking off her sneakers and tossing her keys into a little ceramic bowl by the door.

Bob stepped in behind her, moving like he didn’t want to disturb the air. His eyes flicked around the space, taking in everything, silently noting how her this place felt. It was lived in. Warm. Safe.

“Nice,” he said with a shy smile. “It’s… you.”

She grinned. “That better not be your way of calling it messy.”

“Messy’s charming,” he replied, rubbing the back of his neck. “So, uh… where’s the TV?”

She pointed to the living room. “Couch is yours. I’ll get the snacks. No movie night without popcorn, it’s illegal.”

Bob shuffled into the living room and plopped onto the couch, sinking slightly into the cushions. A large fuzzy blanket was already thrown over one armrest, and the TV remote rested on the other, just waiting for someone to grab it. He picked it up and started scrolling through her cable channels—no Netflix login anywhere in sight.

From the kitchen, she called out, “Don’t bother looking for Netflix, by the way. I refuse to pay for it on principle.”

Bob blinked. “Wait, what principle?”

“The principle that I already pay for internet, rent, utilities, and my crippling caffeine addiction. Something’s gotta give.”

He laughed, glancing toward the kitchen where she was pouring kernels into an old stovetop popper like a professional. “So, no Netflix. What are our options then?”

She popped her head out from behind the doorframe, holding up a giant metal bowl with flair. “Cable roulette, baby. Let the gods decide.”

Bob chuckled as he continued to flip through. A couple of random sitcoms, a rerun of a baking competition, something that looked like a low-budget horror movie.

Then he paused.

“Oh—this one,” he said, perking up. “It’s just starting.”

It was one of those timeless adventure films—part comedy, part heart, with a little magic thrown in. The kind of movie people quote years later like it shaped their childhoods.

She returned a minute later, carrying the giant bowl of buttery, still-warm popcorn, and proudly presented it to him.

“Tada.”

Bob looked up at her, eyes soft. “Is it bad that all your surprises are food-related?”

She gave him an offended gasp. “Food is a great love language.”

He took a handful of popcorn and grinned. “I’m just saying—at this rate, our next date’s gonna have to be a jog.”

“You calling me out on my snack habits, Reynolds?”

“Just looking out for future me,” he joked. “Don’t want to get fat and slow while trying to impress you.”

They both laughed as she curled up beside him on the couch, pulling the blanket over their legs without even asking. She sat close, the bowl between them, legs pressed lightly against his. He tried not to think about how good that felt—how even the slightest brush of her thigh against his sent a heat curling into his chest.

The movie played on, and they made the occasional sarcastic comment under their breath, snickering over cheesy dialogue or pointing out ridiculous plot holes. Bob tried to focus on the screen, but every so often, his eyes drifted to her. The flicker of the TV cast soft shadows across her face, highlighting the curve of her cheek, the way her mouth twitched when she was trying not to smile. She didn’t know she did that. He found it endlessly fascinating.

And then, their knees bumped again—just slightly—and she turned her head, catching him.

He froze, mid-popcorn bite, like a raccoon in a trash can caught with a flashlight.

She raised an eyebrow. “Something you like ?”

He flushed instantly, face going pink. “Wasn’t— I wasn’t—”

“I’m gorgeous, I know,” she said with a grin, bumping his leg. “You’re so lucky.”

He let out a small, bashful laugh, looking down at his lap, embarrassed beyond belief.

But then, she shifted.

Her teasing smile softened into something quieter. She reached out, gently brushing her hand against his arm, and leaned into him, resting her head against his shoulder, then slowly, against his chest. She tucked herself under his arm like she belonged there, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“I really do like you, Bobby,” she said, barely above a whisper. “Like, a lot.”

Bob didn’t breathe for a second. He just stared down at the top of her head, her hair catching the light. He felt her heartbeat, steady and close, against his ribs.

And he knew.

He wrapped his arm around her, holding her close, letting himself melt into the moment he didn’t think he’d ever deserve.

“Guess I was the one who got the lottery ticket in the end,” he whispered.

The soft flicker of the television still lit the room, casting warm shadows over the now half-empty popcorn bowl that had long gone cold on the coffee table. The movie had played on quietly in the background, its third act slowly winding into an emotional crescendo neither of them saw coming—because somewhere between one of her whispered jokes and his quiet chuckles, they had both drifted off to sleep.

Y/N stirred first.

A sudden loud crash from the film’s climax jolted her upright, eyes wide and heart pounding. She blinked a few times, trying to process where she was. The room was dim now, just the blue glow from the credits rolling across the screen. Bob, still curled up beside her with his head resting slightly back against the couch cushion, blinked awake seconds later, startled.

“Wha—what happened?” he mumbled groggily, sitting up, his voice rough with sleep. “Did something explode?”

Y/N grabbed her phone from the armrest and squinted at the screen, the harsh light making her wince. “Shit—it’s past 1 a.m.”

Bob straightened up quickly, suddenly aware of the late hour. “1 a.m.?” he echoed, rubbing at his face with both hands before reaching for his jacket on the couch arm. “I should get going then. Damn, I didn’t mean to pass out.”

She sat up beside him, still blinking the sleep from her eyes. “Wait—are you seriously going to walk home right now?”

He was already halfway standing, slipping his phone into his pocket. “I mean... yeah? I live like forty minutes away, but it’s not that bad—”

“Bob,” she said, more firmly now, placing a hand on his arm to stop him. “It’s freezing outside, it’s stupid late, and you’re literally half-asleep. I’m not letting you walk home like that. Stay.”

He looked at her, hesitating, his hand resting awkwardly on the back of his neck.

“Are you sure?” he asked, voice softer now, uncertain. “I don’t want to be a burden.”

“You’re not,” she said without missing a beat. “I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t want you to.”

He opened his mouth to protest again, but she was already grabbing the blanket from the couch.

“You can take the bed,” she said over her shoulder. “It’s comfier. I’ll grab some blankets and crash here.”

Bob's eyebrows shot up. “Wait—what? No, no way. You’re not giving up your bed for me.”

“Bob—”

“I’ll take the couch. Seriously. You already cooked the popcorn and laughed at all my dumb jokes. I’m not about to kick you out of your own bed.”

Y/N stopped mid-step, holding a pillow against her chest.

She looked at him, a little sheepish now, something almost shy in the way she bit her lip.

“Well…” she started slowly, “the couch isn’t exactly five-star hotel material. Springs kinda poke you if you sit the wrong way.”

Bob blinked.

She hesitated, clearly fighting her own nervousness, and then said it:

“We could just… share the bed?”

Bob froze.

It wasn’t a suggestive offer—it was soft, hesitant, spoken with a touch of nervous laughter that told him she wasn’t trying to rush anything or make it weird. Her cheeks were pink, and she wouldn’t quite meet his eyes.

“I mean,” she continued quickly, “we could do the whole back-to-back thing, or throw a pillow wall in the middle. Just sleep. It’s really not that big of a deal, right?”

He could feel the heat rising in his face, all the way to the tips of his ears.

“I—uh…” He swallowed hard. “Yeah. Okay. That makes sense.”

She looked up at him now, really looked at him, and smiled—gentle, reassuring.

“We’re comfortable with each other, right?”

Bob nodded slowly. “Yeah. Yeah, we are.”

A few minutes later, they were both in her bedroom.

It was small and soft, the kind of room that smelled like lavender detergent and something warm and feminine. There were string lights hanging above the bed, giving off a golden glow, and the sheets were already turned down from earlier.

Y/N had quickly slipped into a pair of pajama shorts and an oversized t-shirt in her bathroom, her hair tied up messily. Bob stood at the edge of the bed looking impossibly awkward, holding a folded blanket in his arms like it was a shield.

“I promise not to snore,” she teased lightly, climbing into her side of the bed and fluffing her pillow.

“I make no promises,” he mumbled, still blushing, as he awkwardly lowered himself onto the other side of the bed, fully clothed, stiff as a board.

They lay there for a moment in silence.

Then she turned to him slightly. “You okay?”

He exhaled. “Yeah. Just, you know… never done this before. Like this. Not with someone who—” he paused, “—who makes it feel like something more.”

She smiled faintly, turning her face toward him in the dark.

“Good. Me neither.”

For a moment, they just looked at each other—barely visible under the soft fairy lights, but everything was clear in their expressions. They were still new, still learning, but something about it already felt like home.

Bob shifted slightly, adjusting to face her fully. His arm folded beneath his head, and hers rested lightly on her pillow, fingers curled near her chin.

“That movie sucked,” Y/N whispered with a grin.

Bob laughed under his breath. “You were the one who picked it.”

“Excuse you, you said it looked ‘promising.’ I distinctly remember that.”

“Only because the poster had, like, three explosions and a dramatic tagline,” he teased.

She snorted. “Yeah, and it delivered… exactly none of that.”

They giggled together quietly, their voices softened by the late hour and the closeness of the room.

Bob let the laughter fade into a quieter breath, and for a beat, he just watched her.

She noticed.

“What?” she asked softly, her lips curving gently.

He hesitated, visibly battling the nerves crawling under his skin. His fingers twitched slightly on the sheets between them.

“I…” he started, voice quiet but sincere, “Can I kiss you?”

Her breath caught slightly, a small smile forming — but not a teasing one this time. It was soft, touched with warmth and surprise.

“Yes,” she said, her voice just as quiet. “Yeah. Please.”

He moved closer, slow like he was approaching something sacred. Their noses brushed, and he hesitated one last second—then kissed her.

It was gentle. Soft. The kind of first kiss that made the world feel like it shifted ever so slightly beneath you.

She responded immediately, her fingers lifting to gently brush his jaw, encouraging him, guiding him. The kiss deepened slowly, breath mingling, hands finding each other. It was warm, explorative, delicate — but full of something real.

Bob’s hand slid around her waist, his thumb stroking just under the hem of her shirt. Her own hand, featherlight, slipped under his t-shirt, her fingers skimming across his chest. The touch made him gasp softly against her mouth, his heart racing.

Then he froze.

Just for a second.

He pulled back slightly, breath shaky, eyes searching hers with something between awe and panic. “Sorry,” he whispered, “I didn’t mean to—was that too fast? I didn’t want to mess anything up, I—”

She only looked at him, calm and radiant in the glow of the lights, and leaned forward to press a kiss to his forehead.

“Hey,” she murmured, brushing her fingers through his hair. “It’s okay.”

His eyes blinked up at her in awe, lost for words.

Then she shifted, slowly, confidently — straddling him with ease and grace, the quiet rustle of the sheets following her movement.

She pulled her shirt over her head and let it drop to the floor beside the bed, the strands of her hair falling loose around her shoulders. There was no nervousness in her gaze—only love. Trust. And a bit of playful spark.

Bob's breath hitched, his hands hovering as if afraid to touch something so precious.

She leaned down and kissed him softly, her lips brushing his cheek before she whispered close to his ear:

“Do you want me, Bobby?”

His voice came out in a breathless rush. “Yes. Yes.”

She smiled at his answer, biting her lip. “Then you’ve got too many clothes on, Bobby.”

He looked up at her, stunned and overwhelmed in the best way, his heart thudding so hard it echoed in his ears.

549 notes · View notes

peoniesnro · 4 months ago

Text

Perfect Partner | Prequel

All Jungkook wanted was to keep his ray of sunshine all to himself.

Paring- Jeon Jungkook × Reader

Genre- Yandere | Dark Romance

Warnings- Yandere (Obsessive love/ Jeon is delusional (Of course he is)/ Violence/ Blood/ Murder attempt/ Assualt attempts/ Clubbing/ Drugs/ Making out/ Dirty thoughts/ Grinding/ Betrayal/ And that bitchy friend) I hope I mentioned everyting.

Word count- 22K

a/n-Hey guys!! It’s finally done and out there. Phew… I feel so relieved and happy. First off, I’m so sorry for the delay. Life has been a lot lately—moving to a new state, starting at a new university, and basically rebuilding from scratch. It’s been tough, especially job hunting as a student, which has taken up a lot of my time. That was the main reason for this chapter to get late since I only wrote in the little time I got in between my job hunt (which hasn’t been very successful yet). That being said, after a lot of thought (and encouragement from my dear mutuals), I’ve decided to create a ko- fi page because a little support from you could help me a lot in this state. But of course, there’s no pressure at all. I’ll still continue to write my stories here free whenever I can because I love you all (A lot). But for anyone who wants to chip in, I’ve also prepared some special perks for Ko-fi supporters! You can check it out here. (Coffee corner) Thank you so much for all the love you’ve shown in this story and let’s meet with the second sequel. Love you all soooooo much.

THE ONLY EXCEPTION

This is the prequel, read the first parts here -

Perfect Partner - Prefect Partner (Sequel 1)

Next Part

Sequel 2.1

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jungkook sits on the far end of the lecture hall, playing with his pen. Click. A roll. Another click and then another roll. Over and over. Picking up speed. His leg starts to bob as well. He hates this place. He hates lots of things. The university, that stupid professor, and all the other students. But, of course, after his parents. He hates them the most.

He never wanted to study business to begin with. He was perfectly fine with his computer. He could’ve changed the world if he was just allowed to learn what he wanted. But no. Here he is. Sitting in a strategic management lecture despite his huge displeasure.

See, he has every reason to hate his parents. Dear parents who made him learn business because they wanted him to take after the family business. Parents who believed punishments and a whip were necessary to raise a boy. Parents who thought locking a child in a dark basement for days, terrified of unseen monsters, was the right way to discipline him. Parents who believed making him unloved was the way to make him manly.

Well, fuck them!

Jungkook glances at his watch. One more minute until the lecture starts.

59, 57, 58…

A click…

A roll…

The stupid professor probably won’t start the lecture on time, though. Jungkook knows it by experience.

45, 44, 43…

A click..

His leg bobs up and down uncontrollably.

He just wants the day to end. End it fast so he could haul inside his dorm room peacefully.

3, 2, 1……

And it’s time but as he expected, the old hag doesn’t start the lecture.

Jungkook groans in annoyance. When will people learn about punctuality? It’s exactly after 30 seconds that the old professor finally starts the lecture.

Finally!

Then just as he starts speaking, the lecture hall door barges open. Someone storms inside, panting hard. Another fool who doesn’t know how to work on time. Jungkook watches in mild annoyance as the newcomer bows deeply in apology. So deep that their forehead practically touches the floor. Then they turn around.

A girl.

Her eyes roam over the lecture hall, trying to find an empty spot. The entire hall is almost filled by that point. Except for the one next to Jungkook.

Oh fuck!

The last thing he wants is someone to sit next to him. Normally, people don’t. They prefer to stay away from the quiet kid who always keeps his face hidden in a hoodie. They preferred not to engage with the creepy kid who always wears black from head to toe. No problem, though. Jungkook is just fine.

Then here comes this new girl, rushing toward him. Jungkook doesn’t bother looking at her as she starts to whisper.

“Hey! You don’t mind if I take this seat, right?”

He doesn’t answer. The girl doesn’t wait for his answer, anyway. Just sits down. Shuffles around with her things while Jungkook just opens his laptop. He almost pays attention to the professor when her chirpy voice interrupts him again.

“I’m so sorry I’m probably invading your safe space. Shouldn’t have come so late to the lecture but my friends- wait, I’m rambling and you didn’t ask. You probably don’t want people yapping at you. First I made you sit with me and now I’m talking to you when you don’t even look at me- And I’m rambling again. I should shut up. I’m gonna shut up. I’m sorry.”

Then, silence.

Good. Thank fuck. Jungkook is so glad that the girl decided to shut her big mouth. He basks in the peaceful silence for a minute. But then here it comes. Fucking curiosity. Curiosity to know who’s the person that was forced to sit next to him but obviously wasn’t forced to talk to him. He turns his head slightly. To be met with a petite figure. Bright eyes wide and looking at the professor. Luscious lips where the bottom one is trapped between pearly teeth. Soft hair framing a pretty face.

A girl who casually talked with him.

A girl who is apparently not freaked out by him.

A pretty girl.

Fucking pretty.

The prettiest.

You!

The first encounters are always the funniest. Like this one. You turn your head abruptly toward him. As if you sensed his stares. Jungkook jerks and averts his head away from you.

“Oh, by the way my name is (___), how ‘bout you?”

He doesn’t answer. Yet again. You don’t mind. Just start yapping. Yet again.

………………………….

You enter your shared apartment with your boyfriend. Feeling exhausted after a long day of lectures and your part time job. Just to be met with a Jimin who casually sprawls across your couch. You wrinkle your nose in displeasure. Not that you hate Jimin or anything, but lately, all your friends- including Hoseok’s and yours- have started living rent-free in your apartment.

Jimin is a good, funny, and charming guy but in moments like these, all you want is to be left alone with your other half. Maybe just cuddling and watching a movie. Or even better- getting your brains fucked out.

Well, it seems that the thought would have to wait.

You walk toward Jimin on the couch. A sheet mask on his face and listening to Thank You, Next. He’s been obsessed with that song for so long now you’re becoming tired of hearing it. You nudge his legs with your knee, demanding him to make space for you. Jimin barely lifts his head before bending his legs and giving you space to sit down.

“Where’s Hobi?” You ask as you drop down onto the comfy leather.

“Around.” Jimin just nonchalantly waves his hand around making you annoyed.

“Yah!” You bellow when he raises his head up once again.

“Yah!,” He matches your voice. “How the fuck would I know where your boyfriend is?” Asks, bewildered. Well, that’s a good point.

“Why are you here again?” So, you change the topic. Jimin finally stops trying to relax while your annoying figure is next to him. Instead, he sits up and removes the face mask.

“To use your skincare products and, of course, your shower.” Says matter of factly. You knew the face mask was yours. See, they’re totally taking advantage of your place. You open your mouth to give yours and your boyfriend’s best friend a piece of your mind when the sudden sound of a door opening interrupts you. You and Jimin both turn your head behind you. Where the only bedroom in this little apartment is, and a little bit disoriented Hoseok appears.

Your lips stretch into a huge grin at the comforting presence of your boyfriend. He looks a little red in his face. It takes him a split second to return your grin.

Weird!

Or not. He was probably asleep and woke up startled by your yelling.

“Hey, baby!” You greet him warmly. Hold your hand out toward him. Silently asking him to join you on the couch. But before he could, Jimin interrupts.

“Is she still showering?” Gestures in your bedroom. “Yah! What is she? A damn fish?” Almost gets to his feet. You look at him in question when the answer appears through the door.

Daebi. Your best friend. Her hair wraps up in one of your towels.

“Oh hi baby, you’re early.” Hoseok finally returns your earlier greeting and takes your hand in his. Sits down next to you. You look at him surprised for a second before you avert your gaze to your best friend again.

“Really?” You raise one of your brows. This is what you mean when you say they’re abusing your house. Jimin just gots up and disappears inside your bedroom- where you know-he inevitably goes to shower as well. And the idiot put on that mask before he showers. And that’s such a waste.

“Oh, c’mon, your shower is just nice. Besides, you're not the one who pays the bills. It’s your sweet boyfriend.” She winks and waltzes toward your mini kitchen.

“Seriously? This is the time we should move out from this place and let’s make sure we find a place with the shittiest shower.” You state as you still keep your eyes over to where your best friend just walks away. Hoseok snorts.

“It’s okay baby.” He places a soft kiss on your cheek. You immediately relax at the sensation. He places another. Then another. All over your cheek and then trailing down toward your jaw. Neck. Throat. You swear you tried your best not to moan but an involuntary moan slips through your lips. Makes Hoseok grin against your skin. He gives you another kiss. This time open mouthed. You shudder. But then it hits you. He’s trying to distract you from getting mad at your friends. You shove him away.

“It’s not okay.” You shake your head in disagreement. Hoseok sighs. Rolls his eyes.

“It’s just a shower (___).”

“I know. It’s not about the shower though. It’s about me wanting to have some alone time with you and-” Your turn to face him. It’s not that you're mad at your friends for real. You smirk. “- maybe I’m just horny….. and-”

He stops your words by attacking his lips to yours. Kisses you deep. Tongue swapping across your bottom lip, inviting you for that familiar heated dance. And you forget about your friends and the shower. Completely. Everything disappears. Just Hoseok. And you. Only living creatures. So, you give him what he’s asking for. Access to the inside of your mouth. He wastes no time in thrusting his tongue forward. Tangling with yours. Creating a hot mess of saliva. Only pulls away when your head starts to spin. “Yeah?” Questions when he does.

“Yeah.” You whisper, breathlessly. So Daebi won’t hear you. A devilish smirk appears on your boyfriend’s face.

“Then we should do something about it and let’s just ask Jimin to walk out of the shower with his eyes closed.” He whispers back. Kisses your neck once again. This time with his hot tongue grazing over your sensitive skin.

“Hobi..” You gasp softly. And that’s all it takes for your boyfriend’s restrictions to snap. He stands up at light speed. Almost picks you up from the couch just as your phone dings. You mindlessly search inside your pocket for the annoying device while keeping your eyes on Hoseok. He waits patiently until you check who’s texted you. You reluctantly turn your gaze toward your phone. Unlocking it quickly. Only to find a simple ‘Hi’ from an unknown number. “Who’s that? Anything important?” Hoseok asks you as you lock your phone again and throws it away.

“Nope. I don’t know who that is. Don’t care either. C’mon, lover boy, fuck me, hm?” You bat your eyelashes at Hoseok. He curses slowly before really picking you up from the couch this time. You squeak as he starts to walk toward your bedroom. Just as Daebi comes out of the kitchen with a horrified expression on her face. She’s allergic to PDA. So, you understand that expression. You give her a quick wave before Hoseok kicks the bedroom door closed.

……………………..

You’re early today. It feels nice to be early to your lecture and not having to sweat your ass down while running across the university. You stand in front of the almost empty lecture hall. Assessing your seating options. Since you’re early, you can choose to sit wherever you want. But then, your eyes slowly wander over to the back. Stopping at the figure hunched over there. All in black. Face covered in the hoodie.

You didn’t see his face last time either. Only a set of pink lips. And a part of his cheek while he was busy staring at you. But that was all. He never bothered to remove his hoodie. It almost felt like he was deliberately trying to hide his face from you. Which was fine. It’s his choice anyway. Yet by the parts you saw, you guess the boy must have a goldy face. Such a shame he keeps it hidden.

Lost in your own thoughts, you slowly start to walk toward the back of the lecture hall. You had no option but to sit next to him the last time. And you just know he didn’t like your company that much. Still you decide to approach him. You just feel bad. True, you’ve never even seen him before. But you guess that’s how his entire college life must have been. Alone in the back of the class. Depressing. You can’t help but feel sad. And your altruistic self believes you can be of help.

He turns his head slightly toward you when you finally approach him. Still not enough to see anything besides his pink lips.

“Hi!” You chirp. “Mind if I?” You gesture at the empty seat, expecting him to stay silent. To ignore you completely like the last time. Then, to your surprise, he nods. Just once. But nonetheless he does. You grin widely to yourself as you sit. “Thank you.” Mumble. Get comfortable and start fumbling with your laptop and notes. “How have you been?” Question him knowing very well he won’t answer. And your expectations come true.

See now, you don’t wish to be annoying to people. No. You can pick up a sign when it’s needed. But for some reason, you think this guy- who’s in black- maybe needs some company. Even though he doesn’t engage in any conversation with you. That’s the exact reason why you keep asking him a question here or there throughout your lecture. And he nods or shakes his head for some of them. The only question that he answers verbally is when you ask what year he’s in. To your surprise, he’s in his final year.

Well, lucky guy. He’d be out of this hell hole pretty soon.

Now it’s only fifteen more minutes left until the lecture ends and you’re asking him about his favourite lecturer under your breath when you get distracted by your professor.

“Okay, class, it’s time to discuss your upcoming assignment.” He clasps his hands and you immediately pay your full attention to him. You might not pay attention to the lectures but the assignments are important. “As you know the upcoming report is a paired work,” He starts and you sigh heavily. You hate group work. “-which will not be that difficult since we’ve been talking about the topic a lot. And I hope you all will do a great job. Then about assigning you partners, I decided that I’ll not be assigning you with random people since it makes it awkward and uncomfortable. I believe you’ll be more effective working with someone who you’re already comfortable with. So, it’s up to you to decide who your partner will be. You have two weeks until the due date.”

Oh fuck!

You have no one you’re familiar with in this class. It’s almost mechanical how you snap your head to your left. Toward the guy in black.

“Wanna partner up?” You blurt out before you can process. “Uh- I mean only if you want to of course. Do you have anyone here you want to partner up with or-”

“You.” He snaps, making you stop your rambling abruptly.

“Huh?”

“L-let’s p-partner up. You’re good.” He stutters out an explanation. You chuckle softly, finding him to be so adorable.

“Good. Thank you. I mean I don’t know many people and oh,” You perk up remembering your need to make sure he doesn’t get high hopes about good grades while working with you. You’re just bad at this. “But I want you to know that I’m very bad at this. Business is really not my thing. Never wanted to pursue this degree but my mom made me do it. So, I hope-”

“You have a shitty family too?”

You close your mouth immediately.

What, now?

That’s the most he’s said so far, and he’s asking if your family is shitty. A laugh slips through your lips.

“Wh-what? Of course, no-” You even start to shake your head. Because that’s not true. Your family is the best. “Not at all. They’re good. Just didn’t want me to pursue music since they believe it won’t be easy to make a stable future with that. That’s all. They're not bad.” You let him know when he just nods again and looks straight ahead. “Um- but why did you ask that?” You ask anyway, despite his clear signs of not wanting to talk anymore. He shrugs.

“Because I have a shitty family.” States meekly. Voice almost inaudible that you have to lean in to catch it. And you feel your heart squeezing. That’s awful. See, you knew he was in a bad situation.

“I’m so sorry.” You mutter sadly. “You didn’t want to study business?” You ask again, hoping that his family situation is just about not letting him pursue his dream. He shakes his head. Nothing more. You wait a minute until he says something else but when he doesn’t, you decide to ask something else. “What did you want to learn then?”

“I.T”

You can feel the melancholy in his voice.

This is depressing.

“I’m really sorry.” You mutter again.

………………………………

Jungkook can’t believe it. He really fucking can’t believe that someone- who’s a real person and a girl at that- wanted to sit next to him. To talk to him and then to partner up with him. It feels weird to be honest. Since he has never had such an experience in his life. Sure, he’s done group work but it was always with someone who was assigned to him. You, however, willingly chose to partner up with him.

And you’re real. Very real. Not some fragment of his imagination. Not a scenario he made up in his head while waiting for sleep to reach him. Most importantly, you’re not someone who he met online either. If you were, then he wouldn’t be so surprised about this situation. Because he is a star when it comes to talking with strangers online. He actually has a couple of online girlfriends, to be precise. He’s this charming guy who can swoon women via texts. Or calls for that matter. But when it comes to reality, he’d just shy away. Knowing very well that no one would want to do anything with him. He’s the quiet kid in black clothes. Then here you are. Mindlessly and animatedly talking about the upcoming assignment.

The two of you are walking back from the lecture. And he can see the exit. You haven’t stopped talking ever since you left the lecture hall. You’re telling him the way you could do this. Which part and who should do it. While you keep talking you both step out into the cold autumn air.

“Or, we can do it the other way, you know. No pressure at all.” You look at him hopefully, coming to a halt at the entrance. Jungkook stops with you. Takes a minute.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll do it for both of us.” He mumbles slowly. But he knows that you heard it judging by the way your jaw dropped. He should’ve let you know before you start fussing over the details and talk a river. But he likes the way your luscious lips move when you talk. So, he waits until you’re out. You stay that way for a minute before prettily giggling.

Wow, he likes the sound of it.

“Oh, you’re joking right? I didn’t take you to be the type to just casu-”

“I’m not,” Jungkook interrupts you. Your giggle trails off. “I’ll do it. You don’t have to worry.” He reassures you again since you don’t believe him. You take more than a minute this time. Try to duck a little to get a look at his face in vain. He turns his face away from you. He doesn’t want you to see him. You’re so nice to him and actually enjoy his presence. But what if you change your mind after seeing his face? Not that Jungkook has any problem with how he looks. He thinks he looks quite alright. Yet he’s still a weird kid. He knows he must look pale since he hasn’t gone under the sun for forever lately. And his eyes must look lonely and lifeless. That would surely scare you away. You give up trying to look at him.

“Wh-what? But why?” Ask instead. Well, because Jungkook wants to do something nice for you. The only girl who ever approached him in real life. It simply makes him happy to do something for you. To see you happy. He doesn’t tell you that, however. He just shrugs.

“Because I can.” Simply says when you start shaking your head.

“No-no. That’s not right. I can’t let you do a whole twenty page long report on both of our behalf. Let’s just split the work evenly and-”

“I have lots of spare time.”

“How? I thought you’re in your final year? How can you have so much free time?”

“I just do.” Jungkook grumbles, starting to get annoyed at how you don’t want his help. He just wants to help you. Especially since he knows how bad you’re at this. Academically. Not just from your own words but of course from his research. He couldn’t help but look for you after the first day. Was just curious. It’s really a piece of cake for him to log into the university data. Then access all the details of students. Not that he’s done it before. Never felt a need to do so. You’re the first ever need. And yes, he found a lot about you. Including your personal details. Your permanent address, your current address, your phone number, and lastly your academic records. You were apparently not exaggerating when you told him that you’re bad at this. Barely into the start of your second year and your grades are already suffering. So, Jungkook can help you a little with it and he doesn’t like the way you’re being stubborn.

But before he can say anything you sigh. To his great pleasure. “Okay, if you insist but I feel bad, you should ask me if you need anything, okay?” You take a step toward him. Come so close to him that he feels your body warmth. And he feels a skip in his heart beat. Even his breath hitch. This is new. He feels a shudder rippling through him. Maybe it’s because you’re a girl. Not that he doesn’t know anything. Of course, not. He can make a girl cum in their pants if he has a phone and an internet connection. This is new, though. But he knows that it’s not the novelty that makes his breathing ragged and heart beats a mile a minute. He has been in close proximity to other women but has never felt this way. “Okay?” You ask again, making him snap out of his reverie.

He just nods. You smile.

Pretty!

So fucking pretty.

Pretty that he’s forgetting to breathe.

Pretty that it hurts.

He wants to just touch you. Just your cheek. Then trail down toward those luscious lips of yours. Then down your throat. Down, down, and down.

Jungkook can’t help but wander his gaze down where his mind is taking him. Drinking up your appearance. Your silky skin. And the swell of your breasts. His eyes stop there. Even through the layers of clothing, your breasts look so plump. So soft.

What if he just squeezes them in his large hand? What if-

“Hey!” The sudden voice makes him slightly jump on his spot. You turn around to meet the person who owns that voice at the same time he looks over you. A young man with a bright smile reaches you. Casually. Jungkook turns his gaze back to you right at the time to catch you reciprocating the newcomer's smile.

It looks like you know each other.

“Hey, baby!” Then you mutter softly.

Of fucking course you know each other.

The man pecks your lips slowly. And Jungkook feels his skin prickles. He goes rigid completely. Clenching his jaw so tight even without him knowing it. A burn in his chest makes it hard for him to breathe.

“Who’s this?” The man asks from you, making you avert your eyes back to Jungkook.

“Oh, this is my….” You start enthusiastically only to trail off. Of course, you still don’t know his name. And how it hurts. Ridiculous. Jungkook turns around without a word. Starts to walk away when you call after him.

“Hey wait! We just, hey….”

But he doesn’t turn around.

…………………………..

Jungkook stands a few feet away from the friend group in the courtyard. He’s trying to stay clear from anyone's sight. Not that anyone would pay him any mind. Still, he doesn’t want you to notice him. No. That’d disrupt his peaceful view. It’s liberating to just look at you.

The girl who wanted to talk with him by herself.

The girl who’s so pretty.

Now, Jungkook doesn’t know why he’s being this way. He found you to be breathtakingly beautiful the first day you sat next to him. You were damn interesting. Intriguing. With your endless chatter.

And then when you had chosen to sit next to him for a second time, he felt something so deep inside him. He no longer hated sitting in a class where some old professor mindlessly talked about things that never reached his brain. He really liked the feeling of having you next to him. Just sitting next to him. Walking next to him. Standing next to him. It was amazing. The feeling. The way his heart was racing. The way he was feeling hot. It was all so nice. He no longer hated this place as well. Just two days with you, he was already feeling positive.

He had never thought he’d ever get to feel such a feeling. A feeling that is not miserable. But instead hopeful. You’re like a ray of sunshine that suddenly peeked at him through the years of dark clouds that shrouded his entire world.

Then, he felt so disappointed in the end.

You didn’t even know his name. It had hurt to think you weren’t even interested in knowing his name. Jungkook really doesn't know why you do what you do. Being all nice to him. Wanting to be around him. Maybe, you’re just a kind person who’s nice to everyone. But something inside him says that’s not the case. That can’t be right, can it? No, it isn’t. You wanted to approach him. That should mean something. Right?

Of course, it means something.

Besides, how well you and he were getting along with each other, even though it was just two days. You have felt so familiar to him. As if he has known you for years. And you share so many similarities. He has found so many interests that are common for you two. Then there is your family situation. You might not admit that you have a shitty family but that’s the truth. You and he are the same. What a match. Isn’t this fate?

People don’t just be nice to other people. You were clearly interested in him. In some kind of way. Even though you obviously have a boyfriend. At that moment Jungkook had felt such a twist in his gut which he later figured out as jealousy. He was so jealous of the man who had approached you that way and got to touch you oh, so freely. It was not fair. It was maddening.

He swears that he had wanted to just forget it and continue with his life like he always did. Just go back to his miserable life clouded by gloomy darkness. But it didn’t work. He was so desperate for that ray of sunshine after that first moment. It was impossible to go back to the darkness just after he felt how good it is to be in the light. No. He wasn’t ready to just let go. So, he had no other options but to seek you in any way he could find.

Your every social media account? Checked. He is following you on every platform he can.

Your address? Checked. He’s been following you back home for a week now.

Your every class? Checked. He knows your daily schedule better than you do.

He knows where you’d be at what time. He knows where you work part time and in which coffee shop you’d pay a visit every day. Knows what is your favourite order- and he liked it the first time he tried. No wonder you’re ordering the same thing again and again. He knows in which corner you’d sit at the library. He knows how much time you waste under the disguise of studying but spending doing nothing but daydreaming. He knows many things. And he’d continue to know more and more. Every little thing about you. Until there’s nothing more to know. Until you’re a part of him.

And while he’s at it. He has felt the same warmth. Even though you are not just engaging in an active conversation with him, he felt the same comforting feeling by just looking at you talking with other people. Even though you aren’t laughing and smiling with him, he certainly does find solace in looking at your smile through your pictures. Pictures you’ve posted in your social media or the pictures he has captured at the most random times.

Oh, how beautiful you look.

And despite all, despite the fact that you have no single idea about you being on his watch for over a week now, he feels so close. So close to you. Closer than he’s even been to anyone. As if you’ve lived with him.

He loves that. Loves how content he feels even when he’s looking at you from afar. And of course, amidst all these, he’s kind of forgotten that you have a boyfriend. Who can blame him, after all. Besides, as now he’s watching you for probably the hundredth time, Jungkook thinks he doesn’t give a double fuck about your boyfriend either. Why should he? For now, he is more than satisfied with looking at you. When he wants more than that, he’d get more than that. Boyfriend or not. You deserve far better than that anyway. You deserve someone who’s obsessed with you. Someone who could treat you like the goddess you are. Like Jeon Jungkook himself.

Until his moment comes, however, he will just love you from afar.

……………………………….

You felt awful after the encounter with the guy in all black who’s now your assignment partner. It feels like such a bitchy thing to do, especially after he offered to do the report all by himself. That’s a huge favor to you since you’re barely hanging there. And yet, you didn’t even know his name.

You wanted to apologize profusely during your next lecture. And you waited expectantly for him to arrive. He didn’t. Which makes your guilt intensified ten fold. Then you waited until your next lecture. He didn’t attend it again.

What if he’s really mad at you? What if you’ve hurt him?

True that you don’t know him very well but hurting someone has not been your intention at all. And there’s the fact that he already has a problematic family. It must be really hard.

Hence, your long face as you enter the university cafeteria after your lecture. Your mind goes around so many different things. You don’t even have a way to contact him. You don’t even know what you should do at this rate. There’s a pending assignment and if he’s decided not to do it anymore, then you need to come up with something. You can’t really afford to fail a subject.

You sigh heavily as you wait in the line to place your order. Eyes just wandering around with no purpose. That’s when your eyes suddenly land on someone who’s hunched over their laptop in a corner booth.

Wait!

That someone is draped in all black. That someone has their face covered from a hoodie.

A wide grin spreads across your face as you unmistakably recognize the person. That’s definitely him. Your assignment partner. You jump into action immediately. Practically sprint toward him. Bumping into a girl in your haste. You pay no attention to her as you make a beeline to the booth where he’s sitting all alone.

“Hey!” You shout just as you reach the booth. Don’t wait for any permission as you slide into the booth right across from him. Someone else would’ve jerked a little at the unexpected barge in but not this guy. He doesn’t even raise his head to look up at you. Just keep staring at his laptop.

Oh okay, that’s fine.

“Hey, why didn’t you come to class today?” You ask despite his lack of interaction. And don’t receive an answer in return. You sigh again. Chew on your bottom lip. “Listen, I’m so sorry about what happened the other day. That was such a low thing to do. You even offered to do the report for me and-” You yet again in vain try to take a look at his face when he lower his head even more. “- I’m really sorry.” So, you just extend your sincere apology. He still doesn’t answer. “But in my defense, I asked your name on the first day, it was you who didn’t answer me.” You add stupidly thinking it’d ease him up. Wrong. He’s still silent.

“Okay, okay, let’s just do this again.” You hold your hand toward him. “I’m (__). It’s nice to meet you Mr?” He doesn’t take your hand in his. Nor does he answer your question. You keep your hand that way for a long awkward second before you let it fall down. “Okay.” You mumble and nod just after another minute. “That’s fine. I get why you’re mad at me and that’s fair. I was a bitch and if you don’t want to do the report all by yourself anymore, I’m fine with it. Just tell me what part I should do so-”

He cuts you off abruptly by turning his laptop toward you all of a sudden.

“Huh?” You dumbly stare at him. Then at the laptop screen. “Wh-what’s this?” Question tentatively.

“Report.” Finally, he answers. You turn your attention back to him, not understanding what he’s talking about. “I already finished it.” So, he clarifies.

What now?

You hastily start to read the document on the device. Scroll down. Eyes roaming over the words, numbers, statistics, and images. Holy hell, he indeed has finished the report. All twenty pages are done. Your eyes go wide in pure disbelief. Even suck in a shaky breath.

“Wow…” You whisper even without you knowing you said that audibly. “Wow..” This time, you say it more clearly. Look back at the guy in front of you. Still staring down and his face hidden. “Fucking wow, Mr. No name. How did you even? I mean.. It’s only been two weeks and you already finished this?” You shake your head.

“Told you, I have a lot of spare time.” He mumbles softly, making you smile. You find him intriguing. And kind of adorable. “I- uh- will send it to you so you can proofread it. Let me know if any changes are needed.” He adds.

“I don’t think this will need any changes. You’re brilliant. Oh god thank you so much,” You chirp happily. “But still send it to me anyway and I’ll go through it.” You pull a tissue paper toward you. Fish out for a pen in your bag. Let out a victorious noise when you find one. “This is my email.” You explain to him as you write it down on the tissue. Shoves it across the table to him. “Thank you again, Mr. No name. You’re the best.” You exclaim yet again. Give him his laptop back when your alarm suddenly goes off.

“Oh shit.” You take the device from your pocket and turn off the alarm. “I have another class.” Explain to your half- dead companion even when he doesn’t give a fuck. You get to your feet hastily. Looks like you’ll have to forget about your lunch. Almost turn around to leave before you eye the guy who’s nice enough to save your ass at least in one subject.

You hesitate for a bit. Pondering on your thoughts. Then say fuck it as you hurriedly round the table.

“Thank you so much!” You state with the bottom of your heart. Lean down to throw your arms around his neck. A fleeting sideways hug to show your gratitude. He’s so nice and you have no other way to show how thankful you are.

“Let me know if you need anything in the future. I’m quite happy to return the favor.”

You shout that out as you already start to walk away.

…………………

Jungkook stupidly stares at the tissue paper on the table. Your email address scribbled on it. His heart pounds erratically in his throat. His ears roar. Ridiculous, since it was just a simple hug. But he can’t help it. The way you melted into him. The way your breath momentarily hit his ear when you pulled away. The way your soft breasts just slightly pressed against his shoulder.

Fuck!

What would he do to have it again?

To have more. To have you in his hands. Your body pressed against his. Your soft breasts against his hard chest. To touch you all over. Kiss every inch of your skin. Knead your round ass cheeks. To smell you. And then of course, to have you naked and whimpering beneath him. His hard cock ramming inside you while you cry out his name.

A thin layer of sweat forms on his skin. All the blood in his body rushing downward. How embarrassing this is that he’s getting a hard-on from a simple hug. He can’t help it. He absolutely can’t.

Jungkook closes his eyes for a minute to relive the brief moment where he felt you against him. An involuntary groan leaves his throat at the memory. He’d have to rush home now. There’s an aching problem between his legs to take care of. Yet soon as he opens his eyes again, he’s met with the tissue paper on the table.

Weird.

He finds you to be really weird. Why didn’t you text him your email address? Isn’t that the new normal? Or are you a hopeless romantic who loves to do such funny things? A soft smile graces his lips.

Jungkook picks up the tissue from the table.

Do you pity him?

Or do you just like him, like how he thought?

You approached him after all. Yet again. Like you always do. It makes Jungkook’s heart flutter to think that you’ve been looking for him. Looking for a chance to apologize sincerely.

Oh, how complicated you are. Like an unsolvable puzzle. And Jungkook loves solving them.

He pockets the tissue before picking up his phone. Still finding it weird that you decided to write it down like that. You could’ve just texted him. He unlocks the phone and opens a text thread where the last message was from more than two weeks ago.

Pretty

You’re the one who sent the last message.

Pretty

Thursday, 15 March, 2018

Oh, no. I hate Choco Pie. Can’t stomach it. (9. 00 a.m.)

Jungkook hasn’t replied to you because it was just an hour before your lecture. Despite your enthusiasm to talk with him over the texts Jungkook has been pretty nervous that you won’t choose to sit next to him. Then you did. Solidifying his suspicions that you might like him. But then the day didn’t end well and he didn’t want to text you back. You didn’t either. Not even an apology.

You’re weird.

First, you never asked his name even over texts.

Second, you could’ve just text an apology but you sought him out instead. You decided to be a little romantic and write down your email on a darn tissue paper. Another smile graces over Jungkook’s lips at the prospect. Maybe he was right. Maybe you like him. It doesn’t matter that you have a boyfriend. Maybe you’re not in love with him. Maybe it’s not only him who’s been feeling so connected to you.

Jungkook shoves his phone inside his pocket as well, deciding not to ponder on the thought anymore. It doesn’t matter. What matters is the fact that you actually came. Made amends. So, he turns off his laptop. Gathers his belongings to leave the cafeteria. Is pushing everything inside his bag when a loud chirpy voice catches his attention and makes him look in the direction. The way that someone happily bellowed really matches the way you do it. Hence his sudden interest. Yet he’s met with a stranger. A girl who just enters the cafeteria. A boy follows her. Jungkook almost looks away in disinterest before his mind registers the boy who entered. He does a quick double take.

And he wasn’t wrong.

There he is. Your so-called boyfriend.

Jung Hoseok!

Of course, Jungkook knows everything about the said man from A to Z. Of course, he dug deeper into the said man’s life since the day he saw him. All it took was a simple stalk over your Instagram to find the needed person. Then it was just as easy as eating a piece of cake for Jungkook. Maybe, he recognizes the girl too. She was in your photos. She didn’t pique his interest, however. Only your boyfriend did.

Oh, how Jungkook hates Jung Hoseok. Just because Hoseok exists. Because he exists and found you before Jungkook did.

Not that Jungkook can do anything about it though. So, he proceeds to finish packing up his things. Swings his backpack over his shoulder. Takes a step forward just to stop dead on the track. Eyes wide at what he sees.

The girl pouts. Whines about something he quite can’t hear. Then she turns around. Goes to her tippy-toes just to connect her mouth with the man behind her. The man who is unmistakably Jung Hoseok. The man who is definitely your boyfriend.

Jungkook lets out a soft, inaudible gasp.

Well, isn’t this so fucked up?

Hoseok doesn’t shove the girl away immediately. He revels in the kiss for a moment before suddenly pulling away as if the girl burnt him. His eyes scan the cafeteria furiously afterwards. Panicked. His eyes roam past Jungkook without recognizing.

Good!

Jungkook doesn’t know what his initial thoughts about the situation were. But now he is quite sure. Your dear boyfriend is cheating on you. And probably with someone who’s close to you, if she’s the girl Jungkook saw on your profile.

Jung Hoseok is cheating on you! The fucking bastard is cheating on a woman like you!

See, he knew you deserve much better.

………………………………

��So…” Daebi drags out while twisting the mascara cap closed. You watch her through the bathroom mirror, applying lip balm to your lips which are drier than Sahara.

“So what?” You question when she doesn’t complete whatever she was about to say and gets distracted with checking her blemishes instead. You get her attention back to you, successfully.

“So… you mean this weird guy in a hoodie from your class completed a whole damn report for you and you don’t even know his name yet?” Daebi finally asks. You shrug.

“Yep. And it isn’t my fault, you know. He just refuses to say his name. I asked him a million times.”

Daebi chuckles. “And you think it’s safe to hang out with someone who refuses to reveal their identity? I mean you haven’t even seen his face?” Turns around and leans against the counter. You scrunch up your face in displeasure. Why does everyone think that a quiet kid is always a danger?

“Don’t be like that Daebi. He’s just shy. Other than that he’s a really nice guy. I mean have you ever met someone who’s willing to do a group assignment all on their own happily. And he doesn’t even want anything in return.” You finish up applying lip balm and place it inside your bag.

“That’s exactly why you should be careful. People don’t do stuff like that, not anymore at least. There’s always a hidden motivation. Who knows? Maybe he likes you.” Daebi casually inspects her perfectly manicured nails as she states that. A smug smile on her lips. You take a minute at that. Eyes wide. A minute of uncertainty where you consider what she just said.

Could it be?

Of course not. Your stupid best friend is messing with you.

“Yah!” You nudge her away with your hip. Makes her giggle. “He literally saw me with Hoseok the other day. He’s just a nice guy.” You turn around as you say. Place your bag and phone on the counter top. Leave them behind knowing Daebi will stay for you.Walk toward one of the stalls.

“That doesn’t matter dude. He still can be deeply, madly in love with you.” Your best friend shouts after you as you close the bathroom stall’s door behind you, making you reopen it and flip her off.

………………………

You eye your classmate suspiciously as you sit in your designated spots in the familiar lecture hall. Not that you can see much. His face is mostly covered in his infamous hoodie. By now, you’ve grown mostly comfortable around him. After all, you’ve attended more than five lectures together. He’s still not one of your best friends but you genuinely like him. You may not stay in touch out of this class room but when you’re inside, he’s the best company you could ever wish for. You haven’t asked for his number mainly because you thought he wouldn't like to share it with you. He doesn’t even want to tell you his name. And you find it ridiculous how you two sit next to each other for every lecture but how you still haven’t seen his face.

You’ve grown accustomed to that fact, however.

You and he have been good to each other. Just two normal people who share a class together.

Yet today, something feels off. Not that he’s done anything to make you uneasy. Quite the opposite to tell the truth. He’s done nothing at all. You know it’s your stupid best friend's words that are plaguing your mind. You can’t help but let your head get ahead of yourself. Let your mind wander.

What if what she said was true?

He’s been so nice to you. Who would volunteer to complete a whole ass group assignment by themselves?

Gosh, you’re being ridiculous now. Not everyone is the same. It doesn’t mean anything just because he did something nice for you. Besides, if he’s really interested he’d at least ask for your number, wouldn’t he? You shouldn’t let Daebi’s delusional ideas get to you. You shake your head to get rid of the silly thoughts. Turn your head to pay attention to the lecture. Which apparently is a good idea but acted upon a little late. Just as you turn your head, you’re met with your professor’s direct gaze landed up on you. Your eyes go slightly wide at the sudden attention.

“Anything interesting on your friend’s face Miss (___)?” He questions while crossing his arms across his chest.

Oh!

You instantly go red at the professor's words. Cheeks burning.

Embarrassing. This is oh so fucking embarrassing. And it turns worse when the whole class turns around to look at you. You would very much be glad if the floor could split up and swallow you whole. Unfortunately, that isn’t an option. Hence, your little bow and the muttered apology.

“I’m sorry professor.” You’re not entirely sure that he heard it. He nods nonetheless.

“Pay attention child.”

You’re so relieved when he turns around to continue with the lecture with that. Yet the residue of your embarrassment remains. Your face is still burning, making you press your cold hands across it. Trying to soothe the flaming skin. It’s really hot here. But at least it won’t get any worse-

“You were staring at me?”

Of course, it can get much worse. You know your friend isn’t teasing you. He is not the type to tease. Still it feels like he is taunting. Making fun of you. You turn your gaze down toward your notebook. Wishing you had a hoodie to cover up your face as well.

“Uh- it’s- it’s not like that, you know. I- I wasn’t staring-”

“I like that you were staring.”

You snap your head toward him so fast that you’re certain you just broke your neck. Mouth agape and eyes wide in surprise.

“What?”

“I would love it if you were looking at me.”

You close your mouth shut. Not knowing what to say. Besides everything, who would admit to such a thing? It's one thing to secretly like something like that but admitting it?

He’s weird.

“W-why?”

“Because, I like it.”

He states nonchalantly. Stark opposite to the way someone should say it.

Wasn't he shy? He was so shy. He is not the kind of person to admit things like that. And this is so sudden. Something doesn’t feel right. Yet you don’t question it. Instead, you just pay your attention back to the lecture silently. Forcing yourself to believe that there is nothing wrong. It’s just your best friend’s words making you think something is up.

Who knows? Maybe he likes you?

Does he like you?

Is that it?

If that’s the case you might have to make the air clear between you two before things get complicated. You love your boyfriend and you don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings. Yet you can’t do that when you’re not certain about his feelings.

Maybe you should just wait. Wait and see.

……………………

You nuzzle your nose against your boyfriend’s chest. Whining and complaining. Hoseok chuckles softly, the sound reverberating through his chest in a soothing way.

“Oh gosh! Will you two stop acting like clingy cats? You know I’m fucking allergic to PDA.” Your best friend interrupts your sweet moment as she throws a pillow at you. It hits right across Hoseok’s face.

“Yah!” He complains in annoyance as you regard your best friend with a scowl in your face.

“Well this isn’t a public display of affection you idiot. We’re in our house and all of you damn annoying germlings should leave us to ourselves.” You point out the obvious, looking at each of your friends. They all, yet again, are in your sweet home.

“Not until we come up with a plan for my birthday. This is really awkward, you know?” Daebi munches on some chips before continuing. “That I have to plan my own birthday. I have bunch of damn friends, and no one gives a fuck. I have to fucking surprise myself.”

“You don’t necessarily give any of us any time to plan anything Daebi. You’ve been planning on your own birthday ever since your last one ended.” Jimin defends you all. You and your other friend Nina can’t help but snort unpleasantly at how true that statement is. Daebi pouts adorably. You think it’s ridiculous that she doesn’t have a boyfriend yet. She is so damn gorgeous and adorable that it’s baffling how boys aren’t swooning over her 24/7.

“Okay, fine. My bad. I’m so fucking sorry Jimin.” She hisses at Jimin. “But still we need to plan my birthday. Tell me where we should go?” Yet doesn’t back away. All of you sigh frustratedly. Her birthday is a week away but you know she won’t shut up until you come up with a thorough plan.

“Well, it’s your birthday so you should decide how to celebrate.” You finally pull away from Hoseok’s warm embrace. Daebi lights up instantly.

“Really? And you gonna agree with anything that I come up with?” Asks. You all nod in unison. “Yep.” Nina even adds. “And you won’t say no? Won’t back away at the last minute?” Daebi asks again. “Jesus, woman, we won’t. Go ahead with this shit please.” It’s Nina who mutters irritatedly again.

“Elysium” This time Daebi doesn’t even blink as she excitedly bellows where she wants to celebrate her birthday. Yet only she looks excited. Aside from her, the entire room falls into a shocked silence.

“You want to go where now?” Nina leans forward on her seat. Disbelief written all over her features. She asks the exact same question you wanted to ask.

“The Elysium.” Deabi repeats with a nonchalant shrug.

“Are you fucking serious Daebi?” Hoseok is the one who questions this time. His brows pulled together.

“Yep.” Daebi looks around the room. “Why are you all looking at me like that?”

“Looking at you like that? Dude, you want to go to Elysium. The fucking Elysium. Of all the damn places you can choose, you want us to hang out in the shadiest and most dangerous club in the city?” You practically yell at her.

“Oh c’mon, that’s just a myth. It’s a club just like any other club in the city which has a bad reputation due to something some idiot said.” She argues with a straight face.

“What if it’s not?” Jimin points a finger at her.

“Then we’ll leave. No biggies. I’m fucking curious about the place guys. C’mon, you promised you won’t say no.” Daebi whines.

“That was before you chose the fucking Elysium.” You groan.

“That doesn’t matter. Trust me guys, it’s just another club. Why are you people like this? Let’s live a little, yeah? This is our college life, if we won’t do such things now, when will we?” She gets to her feet. Obviously mad at all of you. Ready to leave. Makes you feel bad but you still can’t agree to go out into the one place everyone should stay away. It’s just common knowledge. It’s undoubtedly an illegal club. Can go inside only with an invitation. Or so people say. So, you have no idea how Daebi plans to go inside even if you all agreed.

“Okay, fine. But we will leave if anything suspicious happens, okay?”

Just before Daebi turns around a voice next you adds with a heavy sigh. You snap your head to your right at light speed at the same time Daebi stops on her track. You gape at Hoseok in utter pure disbelief.

“Really?” Daebis asks slowly.

“Really?” You shout loudly.

Hoseok turns to you first.

“I mean, it really can be a rumor baby. We’ll go inside, and if anything seems off, we’ll leave right away.” He assures you despite the uncertainty laced in his face.

“Ha! We’re about to die on the day Daebi was born. What a way to go.” Jimin snickers before he gets up and disappears inside your kitchen. You look at Nina, hoping to have some back up on your side. She sighs heavily.

“I really don’t know guys. As long as you keep me safe, I’m down.” She gets up as well.

“No but-” You turn to Hoseok again. “You got nothing to be afraid of, baby. I Got you. C’mon it’s just for this once and she’s your best friend.”

He snakes a hand around your shoulders and pulls you into his body. Places a soft kiss in your hair. You squeeze your eyes shut in frustration. You swear you want to argue. Say no. But Hoseok has this soft spot inside your heart that makes it impossible for you to say no.

Gosh this is so fucking annoying!

“Please.” Hoseok plants another kiss on your cheek. Then another. Another plea. And you’re melting.

“Okay.” You relent at the seventh kiss to be precise. “But I swear to god Daebi-” You try to speak over the squeals Daebi is letting out. “-I’m gonna kill you both if anything happens. Yah! Are you listening to me?” You shout through the top of your lungs. Just to get ignored. Hoseok shakes you softly in his hold. You give up trying to negotiate. A smile creeps across your lips as your other two friends join you back again.

“Still, you can’t go in without an invitation Daebi. How are we gonna manage that? Break in? Oh, God please don’t tell me that’s what you want.” Jimin points out a very valid question, sitting back with another packet of chips. Great.

“Just leave that to me.” Daebi chirps excitedly. Everyone regards her with curious looks. Waits till she clarifies further. She doesn’t. Just smiles mischievously. Guess she has her ways and knowing Daebi, you know she won’t tell you even if you begged. So, you all leave that up to her. Just like she asks.

……………………………

You knot the trash bag tightly. A sigh escapes your mouth as you pick it up to take outside. Despite how annoying it was to have your friends over at your place all the time, it gets a little bit lonely when no one is around. Your entire apartment feels hollow. So empty and quiet that the sound of a needle dropping would echo as a bomb detonating. You would’ve appreciated the peace if Hoseok was here, though.

You click your tongue in annoyance, making your way toward the front door. All you want is one alone moment with your boyfriend without your friends around. And in the one time you get such a chance, Hoseok has to leave you alone for- in his words- much needed boys night. You asked Daebi to come over tonight, but it turns out she was busy for the first time in her life.

Guess you are alone for the night.

Crisp night air kisses your face the moment you exit the apartment building. You shudder a little. You hate taking trash out but it was becoming unavoidable. The entire apartment was starting to smell like rotten cabbage slowly. That was your cue to tidy up the place. Hence, you’re using your one peaceful, lonely, shitty night to do just that. You open the lid of the trash bin and throw the bag inside. Trying not to breathe so the disgusting smell won’t reach your innocent nostrils. You close back the lid faster as possible. Drag in a deep breath when you do and turn around absentmindedly.

“Hey!”

You jolt so hard that you almost lose your balance. A very inhuman scream escapes your throat. Your hands immediately go up to cover your face in a pitiful attempt of protecting yourself.

“Shit! I’m so sorry. It’s just me.” A voice reaches you at the same time a pair of hands are shot up in a surrendering position.

You instinctively step back. It takes your startled brain a good long minute to register what’s happening. To register the figure in front of you who suddenly emerges there. First thing you notice is a black hood. Then all you notice is black. Black clothing from head to toe. Face hidden behind that hood.

No Name!

You exhale a shaky breath in relief.

Fuck! You had thought that you died.

“No Name? What the fuck! I nearly died, dude.” You finally manage to mumble in between your shaky breaths. Your head is still throbbing and your heart is running a marathon.

“S-sorry. Didn't mean to scare you.” He meekly mutters with a gentle nod in his head. That makes you calm down completely. It’s just him. So, you nod in return. Place your hands on your hips. Let out a final breath of relief. Open your mouth to ask what the hell he is doing here when he starts looking for something inside his pants pocket. Few more seconds and he is stretching his palm out for you. A wallet placed on his outstretched palm. A pink one to be precise. A familiar one. Very.

Wait! That’s yours.

Your eyes go wide as you recognize your wallet. Hell, you hadn’t even realized it was missing until now. When did you lose it? Today? Yesterday? When did you last see him? How did he find it?

“I-is that mine?” You ask dumbly when you already know it’s yours. “H-how?” Ask again without any effort to take the wallet in your hand.

“You left it in class the other day.” He answers simply. You blink at his face. That can’t be true. It’s been more than two days since your last lecture and there’s no way you were so oblivious to the fact that your wallet is missing. How come you never noticed?

But then again, he has it in his hands. There’s no other way for it to be in his possession. Maybe you accidentally left it there. Hoseok or someone else always paid for your food and stuff. Maybe you didn’t have to use your wallet. Or not. You’re not sure. You can’t remember. Using your wallet is such a normal and typical day to day activity that your brain hasn’t memorized the times or places you used it.

“O-okay.” You hesitantly accept his answer in the end. Slowly take the wallet in your hand. “Th-thank you.” Show your gratitude with a deep bow. He just nods again. A silence falls as you awkwardly stare at the man who is standing before you when a sudden question pops up in your head. “Wait!” You perk up. “How did you..? Uh- how do you know where I live?” You ask, suddenly alert. You’re pretty certain that you haven’t told him your address before.

“Uh…” He hesitates for a minute. Then a shrug. “Your friend.” Says making you even more confused.

“Friend?” So you question back. Brows furrowed.

“Your best friend. She told me she’s your best friend.”

“Daebi?”

“I guess so.”

“How did you meet her?” His answers don't ease your confusion but make it worse. Nothing makes sense to you.

“Today at the cafeteria. I saw you together once on the campus. I-uh so I reached her when I saw her today.”

Oh, that makes sense. Only that Daebi failed to let you know about it. She should let you know when someone reached her and ask her about your whereabouts. But this is Daebi. She doesn’t think things through even just to save her life. Of course, she just gave away your address to someone like that. Good thing it’s just him. You sigh in defeat this time. Nod.

“Okay. Thank you again.” You finally smile at him. “You helped me again. Uh- I didn’t even notice that this was gone.” Show him your wallet. “Thank you so much Mr. No Name.” Ease up enough to joke around. Another bow. Another smile and then back to being awkward. “Uh..” You stall, staring at him. Not knowing what to do. “Um.. do you like… uh, wanna come inside?” You blurt out in the end. Yep. That’s the right thing to do. True, you don’t know him well besides the few times you met him at the classes. But you know him, nonetheless. He even finished your report for you. And now he brought your wallet which you didn’t know was missing.

He takes a minute. Then nods.

……………………

“Would you like a drink?” You ask your nameless classmate, already rummaging through the fridge. Receive no answer which forces you to turn around. “No Name?” You quip, feeling amused to see him looking around like a lost kitten. Funny, how you still haven’t seen his face. Only tidbits here and there. Now as he’s looking up, you catch a glimpse of a chiseled jaw. Only for a moment because he snaps his head toward you at your voice.

“Where’s your boyfriend?”

He catches you off guard with that question.

“Huh?”

“Your boyfriend? Where is he?” That’s the most this nameless, faceless guy has talked with you. And he asks such questions. You almost think there’s an underlying demand in his tone. You’re hearing it wrong probably.

“Out with the boys. Why?” So, you answer him anyway.

Of course, he doesn’t answer your question again. You wait for a few beats to pass hoping he’d continue the topic but when he doesn’t you decide to let it go. “So, do you want anything to drink? I have beer here. Or if you want anything-”

“What about your friend? The one I met. Your best friend.” He interrupts your little drinks offering. Nearly makes you mad about how he disregards your questions but interrogates you in return, as if he has any rights.

“Why are you asking?” This time you don’t answer.

“You don’t know?”

“‘Course I do. But why would you want to know?” You’re slowly getting irritated.

“Just asking. Because you’re alone here.” He answers so innocently that you instantly feel bad for feeling irritated even for a second.

“She has some assignments to finish.”

He nods in response to your answer. End of that conversation. Right? But you swear you feel that it isn’t finished. As if he has more to say but is trying to keep it shut. There's a sudden tension that fills the air. You feel uncomfortable. Something seems off. Maybe it’s because of the fact that he doesn't normally talk this much. Or the fact he has appeared on your doorway with a wallet that you didn’t know was lost. Or simply you’re being ridiculous. Or-

“You’re really pretty!” If his previous questions caught you off guard, this one leaves you tongue-tied. Your mouth goes into a perfect shape of ‘o’. That is so sudden. Completely out of the blue.

Is that normal? Do people say stuff like that to others?

“What?” When someone compliments you, the right thing to do is thank them. But this feels abnormal.

“You’re really pretty. And I’d like to have a beer.”

Oh!

It’s very rare when you don’t know how to act or what to say. This apparently is one of those rare moments. So, you simply nod and hand him over a beer. Wait uneasily until he finishes it, in hope that he'll leave afterward. You want him to leave because you’re in discomfort. Something isn’t right. You can sense it. He doesn’t leave, however. No matter how long you wait, drowning in that uncomfortable silence, staring at his black hoodie, he doesn’t even show a sign of wanting to leave. If anything, he shifts uncomfortably in his position a few times. You note how he clutches the beer can tightly. He definitely has something to ask you. And you’re getting impatient.

“Uh.. are you, um…” He leaves you with no other options but to ask.

“I have a favour to ask.”

You knew it!

You’re surprised again, though. Never thinking that it was about a favor. But at least this makes it a little bit less awkward. Better than engaging in an alone staring competition. “Oh yeah? What is it?” You’re honestly happy to help him. He did that report for you after all.

“Are you free tomorrow?”

“In the morning, yes. Why?” You furrow your brows.

“Want to go out for a coffee with me?”

You thought surprises are over. Thought he was just complimenting you generally. Now, this doesn’t feel like that. Suddenly, Daebi’s voice haunts your mind again.

Who knows? Maybe he likes you.

No. This can’t be that. He’s just asking. Like a friend. And you are fully allowed to decline the invitation. Which you should because you feel weird. Weird about something you can’t quite decipher.

You inhale a shaky breath, preparing yourself to decline his offer. Mentally going through all the excuses you can offer when a sudden sound disrupts you both. Both of you snap your heads to where the sound came. Undoubtedly that was the sound of the front door opening. Makes you confused since no one would come here around this hour. You almost walk out of the kitchen thinking maybe it’s Daebi when your assumptions come wrong as the person who just entered your apartment just walks over to the kitchen.

“Hoseok?” You exclaim in surprise. It’s not even past 10 at night and you can’t believe he’s home this early. When they go out, he doesn’t usually come home at all for the night. This is a nice surprise. Even a gentle smile spreads across your face. You hurry over to your boyfriend. Just to stop after a few steps. Brows furrowing at the sight of your boyfriend scowling deep. It looks like something happened. Yet before you could ask, Hoseok turns away from you. His scowl deepens.

“You have company?” He grumbles, making you turn around as well. A figure standing in the middle of the kitchen comes to your vision.

Oh, you forgot the presence of your classmate.

“Oh, he was just bringing me my lost wallet.” You explain quickly.

“You lost your wallet?” Hoseok pays his attention back to you.

“Well, I didn’t know that I lost it but apparently I have and he-”

“You didn’t know you'd lost your wallet.” Hoseok snaps suddenly and a quick jerk ripples through you. It’s rare when he gets mad. You quickly glance at the stranger in your house. Hoseok and you need to have this conversation later. He’s probably in a foul mood and letting it out on you. You gulp harshly before turning to the visitor.

“Hey! I would- uh- see you in the next class. Thank you again for bringing my wallet. That’s so nice of you.” You still don’t want to appear rude and give him the impression that you want to get rid of him. You have no other choice though. Luckily for you Hoseok doesn’t intervene. He says nothing as you walk your friend back to the door. Says nothing nor does follow you until you bid goodbye to your nameless friend and return back to the kitchen. Only after then he speaks again.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing (__)?” He lashes at you the moment you return to the kitchen. Makes you furrow your brows in mild annoyance.

“What?” You still try your best not to get mad and just talk this through.

“Inviting some stranger inside?”

“He’s no stranger. He’s this kid from my class. You even met him once and he was my partner on that darn assignment.”

“Yeah? The kid who you don’t even know the name of?”

Well, you have no answer for that. Maybe even when the guy wasn’t telling you his name, you should’ve at least tried to figure it out on your own. “See?” Hoseok continues in your silence. “He’s fucking weird (___). I mean, who the fuck keeps their face hidden all the damn time. And why the fuck he can’t tell you his name? Who is he? A fucking spy?” You watch at your boyfriend’s reddened face in partial anger and partial surprise. You don’t think that he should really make it that much of a big deal after all. “And you decided to invite him inside while you’re all alone?” He grits making you finally snap.

“Yeah, and who’s fault was that?”

“Oh now it’s my fault? What is this now? I can’t even go out with my friends?”

“For fucks sake Hoseok! What’s gotten into you?”

“Nothing. I’m just fucking mad to see my girlfriend is hanging out with this weird man when I come home.”

“He’s not fucking weird. Gosh, you guys are all so fucking mean.” You yell so loud that Hoseok instantly shuts his mouth before you turn around on your heel. Leaving him alone in the kitchen and making a beeline toward your bedroom. See, it’s not that you really wanted to defend No Name against your boyfriend. He was weird to tell the truth. You were so uncomfortable with him and are so glad that Hoseok made an appearance right at the time. Yet, the fact Hoseok isn’t clearly interested in your well being but just letting out something else on you makes you so angry. Hence your sudden outburst.

You don’t even look back as you storm into your shared bedroom and slam the door shut behind you. Hoseok can sleep on the couch tonight.

………………….

This has been the longest you’ve fought with each other. Ever since you started dating, which wasn’t that long ago, you haven’t really fought except for a little argument here and there. Now, after a week of tiptoeing around each other, you feel like shit. It’s completely your fault, to be honest. Hoseok had knocked on your bedroom door and apologized right away. Had begged you to open the door. It was you- stupid, stubborn- you who had started another fight right that moment. And Hoseok hadn’t apologized after that. Which is very fair. If someone has to apologise, it should be you. Something that you’ve failed to bring yourself to do so far.

You sigh wearily as the professor starts today’s lecture. You’re once again seated on the far end of the lecture hall. Next to the very same guy who caused a fight with your boyfriend. The same guy who made you feel so uneasy and asked you out for a coffee. You’ve convinced yourself he only meant it as a friendly gesture. It was your shameless twisted mind that had misunderstood it. And you’ve decided to ignore the way he called you pretty. That’s why you’ve decided to sit at your usual seat.

Despite everything, things have been going normally with No Name for your pleasure. He hasn’t acknowledged you really. Which is how normally it is and you’re pleased. You’ve asked him how his day was and he has only just nodded. See, he was just being nice and it was you who made it awkward that day. You mentally slapped yourself for the millionth time at the thought of how wrong you were to interpret something like that.

Everything will definitely be okay if you just apologize to your boyfriend. You plan to do that tonight. Before going to celebrate Daebi’s birthday. It’s finally the day and you really didn’t have a time to dread the moment. Because you were actively busy with being mad at your boyfriend, you forgot to be afraid of going into a shady club tonight.

Well, all the more reasons to apologize to your boyfriend before you die tonight.

“Is he still mad at you?” The voice is so unexpected that your body does a mini jolt. Your head snaps to your left where your new friend sits. “Your boyfriend.” He clarifies without you asking. You chuckle nervously, wishing it would sound like scoffing.

“Why would he be mad?” Ask in return.

“Because I was there. Did he ask you to stop seeing me?”

You take your time at that question. You think it’s impressive how he really knows Hoseok was mad because he was there. Yet, that question feels personal. You’re not that close to discussing things like this.

“Of course, no.” You scoff this time for real. “Why would he do that? He was just upset about something that happened with his friends.” You explain though there is no reason to do such a thing. Your friend just hums.

And there it comes again. A feeling that there is something he’s not telling you. Like he knows something you don’t. It wasn’t about the coffee, was it? No. This is something else. You badly want to question what it is but the class ends before you could. And you change your mind after that. It would sound crazy if you ask something like that anyway. Yet the feeling never ceases. It hangs in the air while you walk back out. It hangs between you when you bid goodbye and be ready to part your ways. It hangs in your mind even when you turn around and walk a few steps away and hear him calling for you suddenly.

You turn around curiously.

“What about the coffee?” He shouts aloud since you’re too far across to talk in a normal voice.

Again?

“I-uh…” You’ve really hoped that he’d forgotten it by now. That he’d let it go. You hate when you have to turn down people. You’re a people pleaser.

“That’s fine if you don’t want to.” He shouts back while you just try to come up with something. You almost take a step forward. A sincere apology is at just the tip of your tongue. “See you later (___)!” Yet he beats you to it. Turns around and walks away. Leaving you to just gape at his retrieving back.

You feel uneasy. An uneasy feeling. But what’s most annoying is the fact that you really can’t pinpoint it. Yet still it is there. He knows something that you don’t.

…………………………

You stand near the bar adjusting the hem of your short dress. Trying to pull it down. You chose this dress and there’s no one else to blame but your stupid self. After a few useless attempts you give up. You stand beside Nina. All of your other friends, including your boyfriend, have gone for a smoke.

“It looks okay? Isn’t it?” Nina snaps you out of your thoughts. You scan the dimly lit club for what must be the hundredth time before answering her. “I mean yeah. Like it looks okay but who knows?” You’re still not completely on board for this idea. If it weren’t for Daebi, you’d rather study your entire degree all over again than be here. True, it really looks like a normal club- just duller than the ones you’ve previously visited and crowded with much older people than young college kids. Yet that doesn’t mean this is an illegal club where all these people are criminals in one way or another.

Daebi can be completely correct. This reputation Elysium has can be just a myth. Something someone made up. Something people like to believe because of the invitation system. You still have no idea how Daebi managed to get you an invitation. She somehow did and now you’re standing here stupidly.

“Ugh, I’m pretty sure nothing’s wrong. All of these people look normal.” Nina adds after your negative response.

“Of course, they are Nina. What do you expect? For these people to kill each other?”

She tries to counter but stops when Jimin joins you back. Closely followed by the birthday girl and Hoseok. You and Hoseok haven’t made up yet. This time it’s his fault. You’ve tried your best to apologize and resolve the issue. It was him who had avoided you saying you should talk about this later. Now you would have to wait until the night is over to patch things up with him.

“See guys? Told you it’s just a myth. This is just another normal club with lots of drinks.” Daebi squeals. Walks to you and drapes an arm around your shoulder.

“How would you know for sure?” You shrug her hand off. You still feel off. Something feels off. Call it a gut feeling. Maybe this feeling has nothing to do with this place since you’ve been feeling this way for quite some time now. Ever since the day Mr. No Name brought your wallet to your house. Daebi clicks her tongue.

“Look around you (__),” She grabs your chin to forcefully make you do as she asks. You take brief glances over at people drinking, dancing, grinding, kissing, making out and doing every other thing they would do in a club. “Can you see anything illegal happening?” Asks. No. That’s the answer. But why on the earth your friends can’t understand that dangers don’t always lie on the surface. These people might seem harmless but there's a fat possibility that someone is carrying a gun in their front pant pocket. Casually. Just like someone would carry their mobile. You try to tell the exact same thing. Hoseok interrupts you before you can, however.

“Oh c’mon, (__). Just fucking loosen up a bit. You don’t have to kill the mood every time. Just grab a drink and have fun.” He barks, making you completely speechless. Really? Shouldn’t he take your side? You would’ve gotten really mad at him again if it wasn’t for Jimin just reassuringly patting your shoulder.

“Hey, it’s really fine (__). We won’t keep you in a dangerous place. C’mon, let’s have a drink.” He guides you toward the bar with the hand on your shoulder. You throw a disappointed glance at Hoseok, which he disregards completely. As if you don’t exist at this moment.

“You guys go ahead, I just want to use the bathroom.” Instead he mumbles. Turns around and almost leaves when Daebi perks up.

“Me too. Coming?” She asks Nina. Not you. Well, that’s fine.

“Nah. Just go ahead.” Nina turns to you. Daebi gives a ‘whatever’ kind of nod before disappearing after Hoseok.

………………………

Night officially started for your party over an hour ago. Yet you aren’t even tipsy. Haven’t even started to feel it. Fair, considering that you’ve been sipping the same glass of wine ever since Jimin brought it to you. This is not how you normally act. It’s unfair of Hoseok to say you always ruin the fun. You know how to have fun. You and he always have fun. An involuntary pout graces your features at the reminder of his hurtful words. It’s just you don’t feel it tonight. At this specific place. You really wish your boyfriend would just understand that.

You take another small sip from your glass of wine. Alone at the bar. All of your friends have gone to enjoy the night with whatever they like to do. You can see Nina and Jimin rocking it on the dance floor from where you are seated. Hoseok and Daebi, however, are nowhere to be seen. Makes you really worried. You want to make sure everyone is okay. You want to keep an eye on each and everyone.

A frown appears on your forehead after you try in vain to catch a sign of your boyfriend or best friend for the ninth time . Maybe you should just give up and get completely wasted.

Yes you should just do that.

With one last heavy sigh you bring the glass to your lips. Almost succeed when a sharp voice interrupts you.

“You might want to slow down with that, young lady.” You just avert your gaze to the owner of that voice. A man. Probably a lot older than you. You disregard his presence and his words as you down the entire glass. “Woah!” He exclaims with an amused smile.

You intend to ignore him further. That’s your plan. Yet you still give him a polite smile just so you won’t come out like a rude bitch. A mistake.

“Next drink is on me but take it slow beauty.” He mumbles in a way which you know that he thinks is charming but sounds comical to your ears. Already turns to the pretty bartender. “One more-”

“No thanks. I’m good.” You stop him before he can continue, drawing his attention back to you.

“Why not?”

“I’m just not in a mood to drink.”

“Now, that is a very obvious lie. You were drinking wine like it was water sun shine. You’re hurting my feelings. Don’t be like that. Let’s just have one drink.” You should’ve thought more about the lies you tell. Too late now. But you really don’t want to accept a drink from a stranger. He doesn’t look shady but just a little bit older. It’s just you haven’t completely let your guard down. You shake your head while almost standing up to leave.

“I’m really good. Thank you.”

Almost. Even before you can place your feet properly on the floor a glass of wine is placed in front of you with a loud thud. You gasp at the unexpected sound. Take a moment to realize what’s just happened. That’s only when you turn your head to look at the man’s face. Dark. Not a single sign of a smile. Your throat goes dry instantly.

“No one says ‘no’ to me princess. A bitch should know her place after all. Now drink up.”

What now?

You gape at the man as if he has grown two heads. This is not good. You should leave immediately. But the man doesn’t look like he’d appreciate you suddenly leaving. You shift your gaze from his face to the drink that has been put on the counter. Then back to the man. He raises a menace eyebrow. You have no idea what he would do to you if you refuse again. You’ve met your fair share of drunken assholes while clubbing. Yet all those assholes were just pathetic college kids and nobody has ever called you a bitch. No one.

This man must’ve looked normal a minute ago but now he seems like someone who could kill someone with his bare hands. “Drink up you little whore.” He suddenly spits out. You inhale a shaky breath. Maybe you shouldn’t show any weakness. Maybe you should argue and stand up and leave with your head held high. But then for your great dismay you undoubtedly notice the silver of metal glinting from the pocket of his coat. If you think your throat went dry earlier now you’re certain you’ve eaten sand. Heart is starting to beat madly. Head is starting to pound violently.

You were right after all. This place wasn’t just having a negative reputation. It’s true. What you’re just seeing in his pocket is undoubtedly a grip of a gun. You’ve never seen one in real life but the movies exist. You know it’s a gun. And somehow you know it’s not just a plaything.

Act cool. Act cool.

You shouldn’t show that you’re scared.

You eye the drink again. Mind swirling around all the possibilities that would occur if you try to just leave. What could he do? Shoot? There are people around here. He wouldn’t be able to get away after firing at a college girl. Would he now? You decide you don’t want to find out. It’s your life. You can’t take a risk. It’s just a drink after all. You can just drink it and then find an excuse to leave. With that thought you just don’t waste any time. Just grab the drink and drown it in one go, hoping that’d be the end of the ordeal. But of course who were you kidding, after all. Just as the glass is emptied, it is filled to the brim again. Then again. And at the fourth drink you decide to slow down, understanding that you downing drinks faster than a thunder won’t be of any help for you at all.

“There you go princess. See, it wasn’t that hard now.” The older man smiles at you which looks like an ugly sneer to you. It must be more than half an hour now. Where the hell are your friends? On top of all, where the hell is your so-called boyfriend? Why’s no one coming to save you? You take a brief glance at the dance floor for what must be the hundredth time. No sign of Jimin or Nina. They’ve disappeared somewhere in between your first encounter with this man and your first drink. It looks like you’re all on your own at this rate. You’d have to come up with something.

“Guess so.. Yeah.” You take another harsh sip. Nervously. Trying to hide the tremble in your hands. “Would you mind if I go to the restroom quickly?” You question hoping him to not take your bait at all. Hundred presently. But then your eyes go completely wide at his response. “Of course not. Why are you even asking?” A chuckle escapes his lips. You, however, don’t wait to ponder your sudden luck. Just as the words leave his mouth you’re on your feet. Already on a half run toward where your head turns. You don’t even check where the bathrooms are. Just in desperate hope to find at least one of your stupid friends. Then just leave this damned place. You may have lucked out once, but that doesn’t mean you will again. You need to get the hell out of this place.

………………..

You rush through the sweaty bodies. Pushing past annoyed people. Your head throbbing painfully. Maybe you’ve drunk too much. Even your sight is getting blurry. You look around in panic. Still no sign of your friends. You’re starting to feel nauseous. Something doesn’t feel right. So far, you've been lucky that the scary man hasn’t followed you. Yet everything feels far scarier to you suddenly. Every man and woman you pass. Every glance they cast your way. Every word they murmur. They all look like they’re about to kill you. Your heart pounds in your ears now. You barely can hear the loud music over the roar in your own ears.

Where are they?

Where the fuck are they?

You mumble an apology to another man you accidentally bump into.

“Watch where you’re going, you little tramp!” He spits. You shrink away instantly. Your headache is intensifying. In your haste to get away from him you bump into someone else.

“Holy shit!” You turn around to find a woman. Her drink has spilled all over her. You probably did that. You try to apologize but she shoves you away before you could. “Move!” Shouts as she does. You lose your balance at the force. Or not. Maybe she didn’t push you that hard, but you’re too drunk to stay on your feets. Your hands try in vain to grab something when you stumble back. You brace for the impact, but it never comes. Instead your back hits something, or someone, saving you from presumably hitting your head. You almost let out a sigh in relief. Almost though. Even before you can begin, you are turned around harshly by your arm.

A whimper escapes you. It’s the same man who called you a tramp. One look at his furious face tells you that you’ve fucked up.

“S-sorry.” You mumble so fast that you stutter pathetically. It’s like your word doesn’t even reach him, however.

“The fuck’s wrong with ya?” He growls. His grip tightens.

Oh, no, no, no.

How did you escape one danger only to end up in another? Why can’t you be careful? Why can’t you just walk straight?

“I- I’m so-”

“Can’t even walk straight, huh? Stumblin’ round like some dumb bitch lookin’ for trouble.”

You really want to say no. Want to argue. But his words are slowly drifting away. Like he’s moving farther away from you.

“What? Too drunk to speak now?” His fingers dig into your arm, yanking you forward. His stinking breath hits your nostrils. You’re going to throw up.

Oh god what’s happening?

You’re sweating like a pig. Sounds around you are getting overwhelming. People’s voices are echoing inside your skull.

Why can’t you find anyone?

Why is this place getting hotter?

“Or…. is this your way of hitting on me you little minx? That it? Ain’t gotta go fallin’ all over me like some desperate little slut. Shoulda just asked, sweetheart.” The gruff man’s voice suddenly comes into your senses.

No. No..

What is he even talking about?

You try to protest weakly. Try to disagree. But words don’t come out. Your throat is burning. So is your chest. Things don’t make sense to you. Yet at the same time you know you’re in danger. Warning alarms ring inside your head. And your head nearly explodes in panic when the man starts to drag you forward. Away from the crowd.

“No..” You finally find your voice. It’s strained. As if you’ve not used it for years. Sounds like it’s not yours. “No..” You try to yank your arm free to no avail. The man’s grip is like iron. Besides, you're in no position to fight.

Could a few glasses of wine do this?

This is not the first time you got drunk. You’ve certainly drunk more than this but have never felt this way. Too fucked up. Too out of it. You have no control over your body. Just your mind in high alert and trying to escape.

“No. Let me go.” Still, you keep trying. Keep trying to free yourself from the harsh, disgusting hand on your arm. It doesn’t work. God, it doesn’t work. Before you know, you are dragged into an empty backroom. Before you know, the man pushes you into a wall. You hit the concrete behind you with a loud thud. A sharp jolt of pain shoots across your body at the collision. As if your spine just snapped. You yelp in pain which he disregards completely.

Instead of worrying about your possible broken back, he instantly throws himself at you. You do your best to turn your head away just before his chapped lips can land on yours. Makes him mad apparently. He snarls something you really don’t hear. But you certainly do feel the sting when his palm hits your face. A loud gasp leaves past your lips. Weak limbs come forward to fight with a man who’s strong like a bull. You try to push the scumbag away. Try to claw at his arm, face, any place you find.

It doesn’t work.

You’re too weak.

The man tangles his rough fingers in your hair. Yanks your head back. You cry out. You can’t even scream. He holds your head in place. You writhe in your place. Trying desperately to wrench yourself away. Your mind screams the words you can’t get out.

No… Don’t.

You don’t even realize that you’ve been crying. At least not until you start to taste your own tears.

None of your efforts succeeds. You feel his breath on your face first. Then his dry lips ghosts over yours. Bile rises in your throat. A strangled sob finds its way out. You close your eyes tightly. Finally accepting the defeat. Brace yourself to feel his rotten lips engulfing yours whole. But then just a millisecond before that happens, you hear a loud groan. Groan in a painful way.

Something wet splashes across your face.

Something hot.

You snap your eyes open. Just in time to find the man being yanked back by a figure. Your attacker's hand leaves your body and hair. This time, instead of grabbing you, he clutches his own neck with both hands. Grumbling. Gurgling.

It takes your shocked brain a minute to understand anything.

A long minute.

Then you see blood. Red, hot blood. Dripping down from your attacker's throat to the floor. Seeping through his fingers. His hands are covered in bright red. Then you hear the choked, wet gasps he is leaving out.

Blood.

Wounded.

You didn’t know it is possible to feel more scared. More terrified. Yet here you are. Eyes wide in horror and not being able to breathe properly.

Blood.

Only one word rings inside your head. Blood everywhere. It was blood that splashed in your face. You press yourself more against the wall desperately just as the man falls into the floor. A loud thud erupts. Your eyes naturally follow the movement. Catching the gruesome image of him writhing on the dirty floor. And you see that a sleek silver metal is buried in the side of his throat. Blood oozing from where it’s swallowed by torn flesh.

A chopstick!

Your heart rate slows down. Vision is starting to turn dark. Your hands unconsciously come up to cover your own mouth. Legs give up. You fall down halfway against the wall when a second figure lunges at the man on the floor. In a blink of an eye the second man pulls out the chopstick from your attacker's neck. Makes blood stream down like a waterfall. Then even without a second thought the newcomer pierces the chopstick through the first’s shoulder. A loud scream erupts from the first. Yet does nothing to stop the man with the chopstick. He pulls it out again. Attacks the other’s chest. Pulls out again. Then stabs a different spot.

“How” Pulls out again. “Dare” Stabs again. “You.” Pulls out. “Fucking” Stabs. “Touch” Pulls out. “Her.” Stabs. Stabs. Stabs. Blood splashing everywhere. Each time a new spot. Merciless weak cries fill the air.

And your hands fail to keep your mouth shut anymore. This time who lets out a weak scream which is nothing but a pathetic whimper turns out to be you. Your eyes wide in horror and body trembling like a leaf in a storm. Yet no matter how weak the sound you make, he hears it nonetheless.

The second man who just pulled out the chopstick once more and ready to attack the man back stops dead at your sound.

Fuck! Fuck, fuck.

You shouldn’t have screamed.

You shouldn’t have grabbed the attention.

It’s already too late, however. That second someone turns his head back. Toward you. A second pass. And at the same time you almost turn around to run away he gets to his feet, abandoning the now wounded man whimpering and crying on the floor. Drops the chopstick to the floor and it clatters against the dirty concrete. Your delayed attempt to run is futile as a pair of hands wrap around you tight. Before you can even make a sound, your face is buried in a broad, heaving chest, its rapid heartbeat pounding against your ear. You yet again fail to make sense of the situation.

What’s happening?

“I’m so sorry. I was a bit late. So sorry (__).”

A voice reaches you. A voice that is breathless. Hands protectively wrapped around your shaking body.

Your brain instantly falls into an alerting mode. The first thought that crosses your mind is that this person is going to hurt you too. Hence, your weak and pathetic attempt to wriggle free. Of course, it doesn’t work. It won’t work. You’re still very much in the same state you’ve been a minute ago. Still too out of it. If anything, you feel more vulnerable now. Growing weaker and weaker by every passing second.

The newcomer, however, starts to gently rock you. Trying to soothe your trembling, writhing body. Shushing you softly.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. It’s just me (__). It’s just me.”

You have no idea who this me is. At least for a second you don’t. Then somewhere in the back of your mind a bell rings. A familiar voice, isn’t it? You’ve heard it before. So close. You know this person. You know him, to be precise.

With a great struggle against his vice hold you manage to turn your head up to catch sight of a black hoodie. You can’t see a face because the face is covered in the said hoodie. You inhale a shaky breath as you recognize him. Sure, you watched him before but it’s only now that things are registering in your mind.

“N-no n-name?”

“Yeah,” He holds you tightly again. You think you hear a hint of joy in his voice. “Yeah, it’s just me. It’s fine. Calm down baby.” He murmurs in your ear.

Baby?

Your panicked mind runs a mile a minute to make sense of the situation. How quickly things are happening. You were just fine half an hour ago. With your friends. And then this happens? And he is here? Why is he here?

It’s just me…

It’s just fine…

Fine !Fine?

What’s fine? Someone tried to fucking assault you. And that someone is now half- dead. He- your damn classmate- brutally attacked him, didn’t he? It’s like a whole another realization that dawns upon you. He stabbed that man with a fucking chopstick. Mr. No Name- a college kid who is just like you did that.

Oh, god!

This can’t be happening right now. You need space. Can’t breathe. You want him to move. Don’t want him touching you. He has blood on his hands.

True, he saved you by doing so. If it weren’t for him, you’d be lying somewhere, unable to fight back, facing the cruelest fate. You’re a teeny bit glad but nonetheless you’re scared to death. A man is dying in front of your eyes. You saw a man with a pierced throat. You saw blood spurting out of his body. Eyes open and becoming soulless.

And the person who caused that,- this kid is saying to you that it’s fine.

No! Nothing’s fine. You want to run away. You need someone who you can truly trust. Need your boyfriend. Need Daebi. Someone who’s not a murderer. You try to push him away. He, however, doesn’t take the hint. Instead of letting you go, he hugs you into his body even tighter.

“It’s fine baby. Just calm down. I’m so sorry.” He places a hand on the back of your head. Holds you so close. So gently. As if you’re made of fine china. As if you’d break if he touches you a little rougher. Buries his face in your neck. His breath hits your skin soothingly. Rocks you ever so gently. Oh, so gently that you almost calm down. Despite all the chaos and the horror of what he’s done, you find sudden solace in his arms. Maybe that’s because you’re familiar with him. Or it’s just how he holds you. Allowing you to sob into his chest. Whatever that is, it could’ve worked perfectly if it wasn't for his next actions. If it wasn’t for the sudden hot, wetness you feel on your neck. And his shaky breath. You snap out of the false sense of protection you’ve been feeling instantly at the sensation of his lips pressing against your skin. Ready to move away.

He doesn’t let you.

“I’m so sorry.” He murmurs again.

“Wh-what are you.. Le-let me?” You stutter. Your still confused, frozen brain struggles to react. You’re so slow on your movements that your efforts on moving away does nothing but expose more of your skin for him to pepper with soft-wet kisses. He kisses every inch of skin he can find. Over and over again. As if he’s going mad.

“So sorry, princess.” He mumbles as if it's some kind of mantra. In between his sloppy kisses. Nuzzles your neck with his nose. Inhales. Groans. Like he’s getting drunk on your smell.

No.

Oh shit!

He likes you.

It’s too late now. You’ve waited too long.

Why does that matter now?

What are you even thinking?

What matters is the fact that a person is dying. You can still hear the gasps he’s letting out. You can still hear the sound of blood flowing out his weak body.

He killed a man. He’s kissing you over a dying man’s body. You shut your eyes tight. In a desperate attempt to find strength. To escape reality. As if everything would change once you open your eyes. Yet as soon as you close your eyes, your mind is plagued with blood. Splitted throat. Wet chokes.

A cry tangles in your throat as you open your eyes back.

You want to run away. Want to hide. You’re going to be sick.

But then his warm lips press on your pulse point. And regardless of your horrified state a shudder ripples through you. A sensation that almost makes your toes curl.

What? What’s happening?

How come you feel that way when you’re so scared? How is it that your body doesn’t comply with your mind?

“Y-you ca-can’t-” Another failed attempt. Another bunch of words that don’t even reach his ears. He seriously can’t be doing that now? Among million other reasons why he can’t, the fact that he almost killed a damn man holds the highest spot. What kind of monster someone should be to be able to kill and then casually forgets it.

Your classmate apparently does. Which means he is that kind of a monster. He’s acting like nothing happens. Like it’s his right to hold you like this. Kiss you like this. He changes the path of his kissing. Trails his lips along your jawline. Toward your cheek. Inching closer and closer to your lips. And for a second time, you tremble like a leaf. Not from fear. No. Purely due to the sensation he’s creating. Your mind is going numb. Your senses are becoming dull.

You’re losing it completely.

Despite what you really want, your body is giving away.

You should shove him away. You should scream at him. You should run away.

But you can’t.

You feel tired. Exhausted. You can’t fight anymore. Not that you’ve been doing an effective job at that previously either. You were already lost. So, you give up. Your hands fall limp between you. You give into the sensation while your mind still screams. While your stomach still churns awfully. While tears still flood down your cheeks and your heart still pounds violently. While you’re still very scared, you do nothing when his lips find yours.

How ridiculous this situation is. He saved you from an assaulter just to become another one. Only different is the way you’re just standing there as his lips are pressed hard against you. For a minute. Then he is moving them. His tongue gently licks along the seam of your lips. You don’t intend to understand the silent invitation and open your mouth. Yet, that’s what you do. Unintentionally. As if your body is doing something you’re very familiar with. You open your mouth immediately. Welcoming his soft tongue to explore your insides. He does that very eagerly. Licking inside your mouth and sucking on your tongue. Groaning. And you can’t stop moaning into his mouth in return.

Can’t stop curling your toes when he roams his hands over your body. Your waits, your back, and your ass. He squeezes your soft flesh and you feel a fire lighten inside you. That fire turns into lava and shoots across your veins when he presses his lower abdomen against your body. Letting you feel the unmistakable hardness inside his denim.

It feels good. No matter how wrong that is, it still feels good. No matter that you’re still terrified and want nothing but to run away, this feels good. Too good to be precise. Ecstatic as he slowly starts to grind that hardness into you. So, you moan again. Moan into the searing kiss. Delwing in the sensation of his hands, hard cock, and his soft lips.

He kisses you sensually. Like a gentle lover. Carefully. Oh, so lovingly.You would’ve believed he loves you if it wasn’t for the situation. The truth is he doesn’t. He’s taking advantage of you. And you feel so helpless.

Why’s no one coming down this path?

How’s no one seeing that someone is wounded?

Oh, god! Someone is dying. The killer is kissing you. He’s holding you with blood splattered hands.

You need to stop this. You should just try again.

And so you do—only for it to be in vain, of course. Trying to shove him away with weak hands. This time, however, after a few efforts he actually pulls away. Just to rest his forehead against you. Sharing the same breath. You hold onto his black hoodie for your dear life. You’ll fall your ass down otherwise. A sob after a sob still escaping your dry lips. You do your best not to look down. To not look at the man. At blood. Instead you try to focus on breathing. Because it has become so difficult.

“You’re fine baby. I’m so sorry.” He brings your attention back to him. You say nothing. You’re not capable. “I promise I didn’t mean to let someone else touch you. I’m sorry I was late.” So, he continues in your dead silence. “It was only meant for me. It was supposed to be just a little dose.” A kiss into your hair. “Just to loosen you up for me. I never meant to scare you so much. Oh, baby-” His grip tightens. “I didn’t mean to scare you, hm?”

A kiss to your forehead.

It’s like your brain works extra slow. It’s like his words come from such a distance that it takes you time to register them.

A kiss to your crown line.

“I really didn’t mean to let someone else touch you. I’m so sorry.”

What did he say now?

Supposed?

A little dose?

A kiss to your temple.

Your heart beat is getting slower. Dots slowly but surely getting connected in your heavy mind.

Only meant for me.

To loosen you up for me.

Little dose! A dose! Loosen up! A dose!

Drugs!

You’ve been drugged.

Suddenly, everything makes sense. The reason for all of this. For your weak body. Why your body doesn’t comply with your mind. He drugged you. The man back there, drugged you. No. No. Wait. It wasn’t him.

It’s this person. Your classmate.

He drugged you!

And then he killed a man. Or tried to.

This time you tremble actually from the fear. A fear that engulfs you whole that you’re certain there’s no way of getting rid of it. Yet you scream. For the first time in this night you manage to get your voice out. A shrill scream. Enough to awaken the dead. You manage to at least make a distance between you two even if you still couldn’t push him completely away.

With your head still violently pounding and spinning you manage to take a step to your side. Not completely knowing what you’re doing. Just wanting to get away. But he’s quicker than you. His hands are on you even before you know it. Holding you tight. Preventing you from running away.

“Hey! Hey! (___), it’s fine. It’s fine now. You’re going to be okay.”

“No. No. Stay away from me!” You shriek. “No.” Your vision is turning dark. In a minute everything turns back into a desperate struggle. You’re struggling to get away. He’s struggling to keep you stay put.

“Baby please! I’m sorry I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

What is he even talking about?

“Let me go please.” You mutter under your breath one last time before completely giving up. Your body once again being victim to the extreme exhaustion you’re feeling. He just doesn’t listen to you, however. Says the only things he’s been saying all these time. That you’re fine. And you almost make up your mind to accept your fate. Accept that there’s no way of getting away. Away from this night. This nightmare. You almost believe that you will never be able to wake up. That you're forever trapped in his vice grip. Yet, just as you’re about to fall limp against his hold, a shadow of a figure appears in the doorway. Suddenly. Rushed sounds follow it.

You snap your head toward the sound. Hope bubbling inside you. Hope that is paired with a fear that you’re not getting any help. A fear that everything is about to get worse if that’s even possible. But as you turn your head you’re met with an extremely familiar pair of brown orbs. Panicked. Wide. Face twisted ugly in fear. Panting harshly.

Jung Hoseok!

A breath you didn’t know you were holding escapes you immediately. Relief flushes over your every cell.

“Hoseok!” You cry out. In relief. Your tears suddenly turn out to be ones of joy. “Hoseok.” You repeat. Voice a breathless whisper. His eyes land directly on you. His panicked eyes. Then he averts his gaze down. Despite your best efforts you follow his line of vision. Eyes back on the man on the floor. Throat pierced and covered in blood. Your stomach churn awfully again.

“Holy fuck!” Hoseok curses, turning pale like cold ashes. Everything shifts into a frozen stillness following his curse. For a second. It’s like things are happening in slow motion. Like it’s a movie instead of your very reality. Only the club music and distant people chattering fills the air.

“(___), fuck. Fuck, let her go!”

That voice breaks the stillness and everything comes crashing back into motion. You barely recognize that voice to be Jimin’s. Arms around your body tightens like a coiled serpent. Like a trap. Holding you tight. Tight like a drowning man clutching a lifeline. Like he’s afraid. Afraid that you’ll go. As he should since that’s your intention. You thrash against his iron-like grip. Clenching your jaw.

Only now do you realize that Hoseok hasn’t been alone. Somewhere in between the tightening grip around you and your struggle you’ve noted each of your friends one by one.

Jimin is the one who jumps into action first. Who breaks the shock of seeing fresh blood oozing from a dying man first. He lashes at your captivator like an enraged lion. Then just after a split second Hoseok does the same.

A harsh punch thrown in your classmate’s face by Jimin and you feel the grip around you loosens. Then you’re being completely free from the tight hold. You barely catch the sight of Jimin grabbing your nameless friend’s hoodie and the way he does the same to Jimin’s.

And everything happens so fast for you to comprehend. A fleeting hug of comfort and you’re pushed into your best friend’s hand. Hoseok and Jimin tackle down your ex-classmate together. For a skinny, quiet kid, he sure has a lot of strength. Yet is facing defeat against two other men. You hear lots of groans and curses. The sound of bones cracking. You see the livid faces of Hoseok and Jimin. And you think they’re going to kill the kid.

You’re paralysed with fear. Being able to do nothing but just watch.

They’re going to kill him.

Someone else is going to die.

He’s about-

Daebi lets go of you suddenly. You don’t even get a second to process what’s happening before Daebi is barrelling at the mound of human balls on the floor. Then she’s doing her best to yank Jimin off from the kid’s body. Trying to stop him from landing punch after harsh punch in his already battered face. When she fails, she tries to get Hosoek away. While you and a frozen Nina just watch.

“No.” Daebi’s voice mixes into the disgusting noises of bone cracking and whimpering. “No. You’d kill him. Hoseok, stop it.” She tries her best to no avail. Two men don’t even budge. But the good thing is your best friend doesn’t know when to give up either. “There’s someone dying. We-” She yanks from Hoseok’s arm. Says something you can’t hear. Then all of sudden she yells through the top of his lungs.“Someone is fucking wounded Hoseok. We need to go.” That somehow does the trick. Hoseok stops his violence immediately. As if he just remembers the man just lying a few feets apart from them. He turns his head toward the said man. Then at you. You watch as indecision flashes across his eyes. And you think he wouldn’t care. But just as the thought crashes in your mind, Hoseok rushes into his feet. He yanks Jimin apart from the now beaten guy far more easily than Daebi.

“No. That’s enough Jimin. We need to go.” He practically dargs Jimin back. Jimin protests. Violently. But Hoseok manages to drag him away. Away from the kid who’s lying down on the floor. And for the first time you see his face. Face covered in blood. Ruined. Pink pretty lips you’ve grown to admire are splitted. But even in this state you just know he’s breathtaking. You have no time to admire anymore, however. Just after that brief glance, you find your face buried in Hoseok's broad chest.

“Oh, I’m so sorry baby.” He mutters into your hair as new sobs ripple through your body. You will never be the same again. Have no idea what’s going to happen next. Yet your friends are arguing. Or at least Jimin and Daebi are. Nina is just staring ahead. Emptily.

“We need to leave.” Daebi hisses hurriedly.

“For fucks sake Daebi, there’s someone dying, we need to help him.” Jimin hisses back.

“Yeah? And what do you think would happen then? That someone would come and give you a fucking medal for saving his life?”

“Then what? We’re leaving him to die?”

“Yes!” Daebi shouts so loud that you wince. “That’s exactly what we’re doing. C’mon let’s go.” She almost turns around but stops when nobody else follows her. No one even moves a finger. “What?” So, she faces everyone again.

“We’re not leaving someone to die, Daebi.” This time it’s Nina who comes to help Jimin. Makes Daebi drags in a heavy breath which she exhales shakily. You watch as your best friend takes a firm step toward Nina.

“If we stay here, trust me, Nina, it won’t be just him who’s dying tonight.” Her gaze wanders over everyone. Slowly. One by one. “That dude,” She points at the man who’s barely hanging there now. You don’t follow her gesture. Just stay in Hoseok’s embrace, shivering. “We don’t even know who he is. What the fuck are we going to do, if he’s a fucking big deal. What if he's a capo? No- no, what if he’s the fucking leader-” She trembles visibly. Oh, she knew the rumors aren’t just rumors, then. But you can’t fight over that now. “Staying here won’t do any good to us guys. We just- fuck, let’s just leave.” She ends her rambling with a desperate plea. “Please.”

This time everyone regards her with shocked silence. Until Jimin tries one more time.

“B-but, we didn’t do anything. We have the guy, we just-” Jimin stops mid sentence. A horrified gasp leaves his mouth. Then a low curse. You find it impossible not to pull away from Hoseok and see what’s going on. Everybody does. Follow Jimin’s vision. “Where the fuck did he.. Go?” Jimin whispers inaudibly. All your eyes land on the spot where the beaten to death kid was laying. Empty. Now in the spot is a pool of blood but nothing else. You gasp aloud.

How did he?

But apparently that’s the least of your problems. Hoseok’s voice reminds you of that.

“Fuck! We need to leave.” He repeats Daebi’s words. In a hurry. You turn to him in disbelief.

“B-but…”

“Baby we need to leave. I don’t want any of us to tangle in this mess. We are going.” He cups your face. You peer at his brown eyes. Comforting. Strong. Panicked, yes but he’s providing you strength. You don’t know about the right thing or wrong thing. You just need to go home. Just to hide. Forget. So, you just nod.

“What about the fucking proofs dude? They’ll fucking find us and we’ll be fucking suspects if we run.” Jimin still disagrees.

“No. Trust me Jimin. As long as we get away from here, no one would know. I’m pretty sure he has millions of enemies who want to kill him and this is a club that covers every shit. We just need to run and save our fucking asses.”

That’s the last thing anyone says. You don’t question anything again. Just allow Hoseok to drag your weak, shaking body back into the crowded club. Through the drunken people and out. You don’t even look around to see if your classmate- Mr. No Name- was there. You no don’t care what happened to him or where he disappeared. You just let your friends guide you back home.

Like you’re in a dream.

……………………………

After a month

“I can’t believe you fucked up that chance Jungkook.” Daebi places her hands on her hips. Eyes warily graze over the pale kid on the spacious bed. A black patch over one of his doe eyes. Face still very much ruined and covered in a dozen plasters. Lips chapped and pale. He looks starved but Daebi knows it’s quite the opposite. He’s been receiving good care. Parents have filthy money, after all. A little lie about an accident covered it all up.

Jungkook scoffs. At least try to scoff since all that comes out is a wince. A wince in pain as he still can’t move his lips. “You left her alone way earlier, Daebi. It wasn’t my fault.” He mumbles in between painful breaths. Turns his dark eyes toward Daebi who’s just standing there casually. As if she’s familiar with the place even though this is her first time at Jungkook’s parents’ house. Daebi does a very successful scoff.

“So, it’s my fault now?” She gestures at herself.

“Yes.” Jungkook grumbles. And Daebi feels a slight shiver at the way his eyes darken. “And that motherfucker’s who thought he could get away after fucking touching her.” That crazed look clouds his eyes again. Daebi saw it that day at the club. A moment before everything went crashing down. A moment before she pointed him in the direction you disappeared with a strange man. A crazed look that screams murder. Destruction. It takes her a moment to collect herself.

“Y-you’re so fucking crazy Jungkook.” She manages to get it out without shaking. “If you hadn't done something so stupid—” A harsh gulp to soothe her suddenly dry throat. “Like, what the fuck dude? Killing someone?”

“He’s not fucking dead apparently.” Jungkook disregards the way Daebi starts to look frightened. Says that with a regret in his voice. This time Daebi does tremble. “And you think that’s stupid?” He questions with a raised eyebrow. “I would’ve fucking skinned him alive if (___) hadn’t interfered.”

Daebi doesn’t answer that. Simply because she doesn’t know how.

He’s regretting that he couldn’t kill him.

He is crazy.

Crazier than she thought when she met him for the first time.

“And you shouldn’t have left her alone that early. What were you thinking Daebi? You were in that much of a hurry to suck Hoseok’s cock?”

Jungkook continues when Daebi doesn’t answer. She flinches at his words. Because, in fact, that was what happened. She was in a hurry to get alone with Hoseok. But that wasn’t her fault entirely. Jungkook should’ve been there.

“Well, you should’ve come early. Besides, if you have managed to take her the first time, then none of this could’ve happened.”

Jungkook straightens up in his bed.

“What first time?” Asks. Doesn’t receive an answer. “Ah.. that first time where you fucked it up by sending her boyfriend home early?”

“That’s not my fault that Nina fucking decided to crash at my place that day. You had more than an hour, Jungkook. Wasn’t that enough.”

“Yes, it wasn’t.”

“Okay, then let’s just say we fucked up, huh? We failed twice. But remember it was me who walked that much of a length to get her into your hands and you lost it.”

“Because, you wanted to help me?” Jungkook finally manages to scoff through the pain.

“That doesn’t matter, Jungkook. We both failed. I don’t know why I came here today. You seem to be doing fine. Good. Let’s not see each other again. Have a great fucking life.” Daebi grits her teeth. This kid makes her scared in a strange way. Yet at the same time he makes her mad nonetheless. It was completely his fault. She managed to steal your wallet. Created a perfect opportunity for him to take you. You were just a girl after all. And Jungkook is undeniably a hot man. Daebi believed that Jungkook would have a trick or two to play hidden up his sleeves when it comes to women. Even if he didn't, that was fine. Daebi wouldn’t have cared as long as Jungkook took you. Made you his. So, Hoseok would be hers. That was the plan. And he- stupid Jeon Jungkook- ruined everything. So, she had to sacrifice her birthday to the mission. When she had suggested Elysium, it had never been her plan to cause anyone any arm. It was not what she wanted. All she wanted was a fun night at a place that is dangerous. Danger gives Daebi a thrill. But since Jungkook failed the first time, she had to make alterations to her birthday plans. And that was ruined too.

Fuck this!

Daebi grabs her bag from the armchair next to her. Almost leave the room when Jungkook speaks up.

“You failed. I didn’t.” He mumbles slowly. Makes Daebi turn around in sudden interest.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I haven’t given up, Daebi. I won’t. I just-” He sighs heavily. Eyes getting dreamy. “I- I just need a little time. I will never give up on her.”

A silence falls following his words. Daebi just gapes at his face.

This is interesting.

A spark of hope bubbles inside her.

She was so close to getting what she wanted. Hoseok and you were finally starting to crumble. Her plan was to let Jungkook have you, but it has turned out to be in her favor in the end anyway. You were apparently playing with Hoseok's patience, being stubborn. Being a nuisance. Being a nag. The fight that broke between you two was doing Daebi a great favour.

See now, she knows Hoseok loves her. It’s just he’s a little coward who can’t make a decision. Or to act upon one. He has a heart too good for himself. He doesn’t want to dump you that way. And he doesn’t believe he loves Daebi. Or that Daebi loves him. In Hoseok’s mind, it is just lust. Which isn’t true. Daebi just knows it’s love. Ever since the day she saw him, she has loved him. Too bad that you are an inseparable part of the equation. Too bad Hoseok thinks he genuinely loves you. He doesn’t. If he does, he never would have ended up in Daebi’s bed. Still he believes that and he was so close to breaking off his sexual affair with Daebi. Of course, she has no other options but to do something. That’s when she found Jeon Jungkook. Someone who could understand her feelings. Someone who loves you madly. Like she loves Hoseok.

They both could’ve won if it wasn’t for Jungkook’s sudden thirst for blood.

Hoseok was about to break up with you. Then everything took that damn turn. Daebi had to watch Hoseok rocks and soothe you the entire night. Kissing you over and over. Apologizing for not being there. Whispering sweet nothings to your ear.

Daebi had to endure his harsh words after a week. That they are nothing but a mistake and they should stop. Had to listen to him confessing his true love to you. Had to watch his guilt trip, blaming everything that happened on himself. Had to pretend to be your best friend and not hurt when you became the main character of everyone’s life. The way Hoseok became a doting boyfriend who did his everything to make sure you’re fine.

And she’s getting tired. Fucking tired.

But Jungkook’s words suddenly give her hope.

Just like he gave her hope months ago.

……………………..

Two months ago

“You’re the one who texted me?” Jungkook clenches his jaw. His voice a low, dangerous grumble, that Daebi takes an involuntary step back.

“Y-yes.” Nonetheless she answers without missing a beat.

“Why?” Another growl from the guy hidden behind a hoodie. This time it’s not exactly low. Okay, maybe Daebi has fucked up. The thing is, she doesn’t know the answer for herself. It just happened. She saw an unknown number pop up in your inbox. She was mad at the way Hoseok carried you inside the room. As if he hadn’t just fucked the life out of her a minute ago. So, she replied. Pretending to be you. She didn’t know who the person texting you was. She just texted back. Maybe deep down she expected to cause trouble between Hoseok and you. But then she found out who was texting. She found out about Jeon Jungkook. Thanks to her extensive research skills.

And then she got an idea. In between her sneaky texting with him, whenever she got a hold of your phone, she realized that he obviously likes you. That’s where the idea struck in. Hence the reason for this meetup. A quick text to meet her here.

“Why the fuck did you do that?” This time the guy shouts so loudly that Daebi jumps on her feet. This is a bad idea.

“I don’t know.” She shouts back.

“For fucks sake, bitch!” The guy- who she now knows to be Jeon Jungkook- takes a hurried, threatening step toward her. Fast and unexpected that she almost loses her balance. Ends up balancing herself on the rusty fence behind her.

“No. Wait.” She brings her hands forward. Stopping the guy from coming any nearer. He listens surprisingly. Halts his steps for a beat. “You like her, don’t you?” Daebi asks hurriedly. A silence.

“What’s that for you?”

“I would like to help you.”

Another silence. A long one. A very long one before he takes a step back. Brings a hand up to push his hoodie back. Looks Daebi dead in the eye. And her breath hitches. It’s ridiculous how Daebi has to bite inside her cheek to not to gasp at the sight.

He- if nothing else- is freaking beautiful.

Daebi has thought he had a scar or something in his face that made him hide his face. But this? This isn’t a type of face someone should hide.

“Why?” He questions again, making her come down to earth. She opens her mouth to answer but he beats her up to it. “Because you are in love with her boyfriend?”

The breath gets knocked out of Daebi’s lungs. A loud gasp escapes her. Eyes wide and jaw dropping to the floor, she presses herself more against the rusty fence. Nobody knew. Not Jimin. Not Nina. No one. So how could he-

“What made you think I need your help Daebi? (___) would be ecstatic to hear what her best friend and boyfriend have been doing behind her back. I don’t need your help. I can manage for myself.” A sly smirk appears on his face. Daebi almost forgets to reply at her shocked state. Despite the urge to ask how he knows, she decides to play the cards. And win, of course.

“What made you think that just telling her about us would make her fall for you? What are you going to do? Become her pathetic shoulder to cry?” She finally pulls away from the fence behind her. It’s now Daebi’s time to smirk when Jungkook’s smile slowly starts to disappear. “And you think that would make her love you? Oh, Jungkook, she loves Hoseok a little too much for that to happen.” Daebi takes a step forward. Now in confidence. She starts to take part in the game as well. “She never even intended to reply back to you-”

“How would you know?”

“I’m her best friend, of course, I know.”

“You’re wrong. She already likes me.”

“In your fucking dreams, Jeon,” Fuck! She shouldn’t have said that. Jungkook’s eyes turn dark as she watches. Dark and empty. Crazy. A shiver runs down Daebi’s spine at that look. “Listen to me,” Yet she manages to hide that shiver. Manages to appear confident. “She damn loves Hoseok. Even if you go and tell her that he’s been cheating on her, that’s going to do nothing but breaks her heart. You-” She points a finger at the kid in front of her. “Are nothing but the pathetic kid she decided to pity,” That crazed look intensifies. She’s playing with fire. One wrong move, and she’d burn. “It’s just pity, Jungkook. She pities you. But-” Daebi holds a hand up at the right moment Jungkook tries to say something. “Maybe we can change that. Let’s get this clear. I want Hoseok and you want (___). I’ll help you and in return you’ll help me. Take her away from Hoseok. I know you love her and maybe you can treat her better.”

Jungkook’s crazed eyes immediately brighten..

Oh, he’s crazy.

But also stupid.

Daebi just knows that she hit the jackpot with those words.

“And if you don’t believe me, just try asking her out for a coffee. See if she would agree even on friendly terms.” Yet she continues to play. She has an idea after all. All she needs is for Jungkook to comply. She waits a minute to see what he would say. And just like she knew his face goes a slight red. A warm red that makes him look adorable.

“H-how?”

“What do you mean, how? Just ask her out.”

“I just can’t do that. What if she just-”

“Reject you? And stop talking to you ever again?” Daebi raises one of her shaped eyebrows. Jungkook says nothing to that. “Well, you shouldn’t just let her do that then. You really love her, so make sure she knows. I’ll find a perfect opportunity for you to be alone with her. What do you say?”

There it is. Daebi’s meticulously crafted plan to make you fall in for someone else. She can’t think about someone else other than this person in front of her to be honest. She waits patiently until he agrees.

“I can ask her out during a class.”

Then he answers, much to her dismay. Daebi hadn’t expected him to disagree. Hence, a moment of hesitance on her side. Only for a moment, though. Daebi is a woman who knows what she does, after all. There’s no way she would just back up.

Here’s the case. It would be alright to let Jungkook play his game alone. But the thing is Daebi knows you like the back of her hand. You are in love with the same man as she is. And you will never fall for someone else. Not that easily. That’s why they need a plan. Like Daebi offers. See, Jungkook is stupid.

“Well, then she would have the perfect chance to say no and walk out. Now we don’t want that, do we Jeon Jungkook. Trust me this once. Just try asking her and-” Daebi stares at the innocently crazed look in this man’s eyes. Maybe he would get angry at her. Maybe she shouldn’t complete her sentence. Now it’s too late to back down, however. “- and- if she says no then you can make sure she- uh… let’s say… understand that you love her.”

Silence.

Utter, deafening silence.

And the threatening look he gives her.

Then, at last, after what feels like years, he gives a nod.

“Of course, she’ll understand that I love her.”

“Perfect.”

…………………….

A month after the incident (At Jungkook’s parent’s house)

Jungkook looks into Daebi’s hopeful eyes. For some reason, this woman disgusts him. Probably because she’s hurting you. You don’t know it yet, but she is. But she’s a useful ally and he can’t deny that.

I want Hoseok and you want (___).

She had said. But she was wrong. She wants Hoseok but Jungkook needs you. It’s not just a want. Not anymore. Now after that one taste. After he held you. Kissed you. Smelled you. The need has become feral. He won’t give up. Not ever. Even if it takes years.

“You should stick to what you’re good at, Daebi. Being a bitch. Let’s be sure to see each other again someday.” Jungkook tries to smile. Daebi hesitates for a moment. Then as if she knows that this isn’t the time, she turns around. Walks away. Without another word. And Jungkook falls back onto his bead.

Ready to lose himself in thoughts of you.

Oh, he’ll definitely treat you better.

And he’ll wait till the day he can do so.

END

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I planned on writing smut here but then got a better idea (trust me)

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