omertà

by ackermoon

Summary:

Omertà
/ˌəʊmɛːˈtɑː,Italian omerˈta/
(among the Mafia) a code of silence about criminal activity and a refusal to give evidence in the face of questioning by authorities or outsiders.

Chapter 1: uno

Summary:

“Detective Park…” He lets out in a murmur that only she can hear, flickering his gaze up from the table below them to her eyes. She freezes, flustered at how close he suddenly got. “Do you know what Omertà is?”

Notes:

hellooo people!!! It's my first au to actually post so try to bare with me lol. i started writing this in november 2019 and it's safe to say that i put a part of my soul in this and posting it is waaay wayy out of my comfort zone but i still wanna do it so!! i hope you enjoy this little ride with me and the characters :] feedback and kudos are always appreciated!! I'll be posting some visiual stuff and maybe a trailer soon on my twitter so follow me on @EB0YSOPE if you want to <3

Sirens. The last thing he would want to hear in situations like this.

His heart begins to race, starting to hit a little too harshly against his painfully clenching chest. His breath is stuck in his throat like a deer between headlights, unable to move past his trachea. He feels himself freeze for a few brief moments, ears starting to ring. He’s always hated it when they rang like that. So loud, they block out other sounds from hitting his eardrums.

 

He’s never been in a situation like this. One where he has to run and hide like a rat. That is, of course, unless he wants to fuck up the work he’s done for the past decade. 

 

Hell. His whole life, even.

 

He was always clean and discreet, they all were. They flowed in and out smoothly without once getting caught or even being suspected. It was always perfect. So damn perfect.

Not this time, as it seems.

 

It felt like everything was going in slow-mo, except for his heart. It still races, beating like wild thunder in his body. He becomes hyper-aware of the feeling. He feels its vibration through his whole body, down to his fingertips, and he waits for adrenaline to kick the panic out of his body.

 

 It’s when he feels the blood rush to his head that he notices how everyone around him flew into immediate panic mode, each person rushing to the cars they previously arrived in, but he’s still frozen to his spot. Although, the moment the man in front of him moves a muscle, it doesn’t take him two seconds to push the barrel of his gun against the side of his head. 

He snatches him closer by his collar. “You fucking called on us?!”

“Why the fuck would I do that?!” The man yells out, gripping on the forearm of the hand that was clutching his collar harshly. “Let me go and let’s get out of here. No good will come out of this, Sir!”

“You sly piece of shit…” He trails off, hearing the sound of the multiple sirens starting to get higher in volume the more time passes by. 

 

Hoseok grits his teeth, biting down on his jaw. He looks behind him to make sure that his men took off, waiting until his own car was the only one remaining before releasing the man in front of him with a loud groan of frustration. 

 

Once he did so, the man cowered back to his own minions. 

 

Whatever shock remaining in Hoseok’s body finally forces him to his car, as he pushes the cold metal in his hand back into his pants. He shares one last glance with the man he almost killed a few seconds ago, right as the car he’s in takes off from the scene.

 

Oh, how he wishes he could’ve just pulled the trigger.

 

Hoseok can see the red and blue flickering lights getting brighter, telling him that danger was only getting nearer. Hearing the engine come to life with a roar, he pulls his phone out of the inside pocket of his jacket. In a flash, he floors the gas pedal and takes off, one hand on the steering wheel and the other holding his phone to one of his ears.

 

“Come on…” He murmurs, his eyes going back and forth between the rearview mirror and the road of the highway stretched in front of him. “Come on, Yoongi!”

Right when he hears a click on the other side of the phone, his heart drops. The hand on the wheel turns white as he tightens his grip, noticing the car tailing him in the rearview mirror.

“Why are you calling early?”

“We’re fucked,” Hoseok spits out immediately, the velocity of his car increasing gradually the further he pushes his right leg into the gas pedal. “A police car is tailing me. Someone told on the drop.”

“Excuse me?”

 

“I’m being fucking tailed, Yoongi!” Hoseok yells into the phone, switching lanes to surpass the car in front of him. “I made the big ones go first. It’s just me.” He swerves lanes again, in a failed attempt to lose the driver behind him.

“Shit…” He heard shuffling from the other side of the call “The money, Hoseok-”

 

“We’ve only got half of it.” Hoseok’s voice was frantic, clear enough through the static and into Yoongi’s ear. “Bastard’s fucked us over.”

 

“And the drugs?”

 

“They’ve got the whole thing.” Hoseok licks his lips, his eyes frantically moving from the rearview mirror to the road in front of him again. “I told you this was fishy, Yoongi. You never fucking listen to me anymore-”

 

  “You sure everyone else is gone? Even Wontae?”

“I only managed to get our men out before the cops arrived. I barely fucking got out myself.”

“ If they catch up with you, just pull up,” Yoongi tells him sternly, a few moments of silence falling between the two. Hoseok swallows, pulling his lower lip between his teeth in frustration, biting down hard. “You know what to do.”

 

“Fuck!” Hoseok throws his phone to the side, momentarily hearing the sound of it meeting the passenger door with a loud thump before it falls in the seat. He gets his other hand on the wheel, his foot pushed harshly against the pedal as he looks in the mirror again, and holds his breath.

The car isn’t behind him anymore.

He looks beside him, locking his gaze with the pair of eyes that met his own. 

 

A pair of hooded, scowling, feminine eyes.

 

“Pull over!” He hears a shout through his closed, tinted window. 

 

Both corners of Hoseok’s lips pull down slightly, his eyes turning venomous as he switches gears, going past her again. Ahead of him, it looks a little too crowded for his liking that he feels his shoulders slump from their previous tense position. He switches lanes again, further to the left. His eyebrows furrow, the little crowd almost making him feel claustrophobic until he finally passes it and accelerates again.

 

Except that, he never really expected to find the car passing him again, nor to hear the screeching sound of tires against the asphalt a few seconds later when it pulls up sideways after a sharp turn, blocking his passage. He slams his foot against the breaks, the screeching sound making his ears ring again. He barely misses the woman getting out of the car before his own comes to a halt.

 

“Fuck,” Hoseok lets out lowly, a hand hitting the wheel in front of him in frustration. He closes his eyes and lets his head drop to his chest, then he takes a deep breath. Then another one, as he pushes the lock button just on time because the next thing he hears is a failed attempt at opening his door.

 

Looking up, his hands fall from the steering wheel. One goes to the back of his pants to grab his gun, and he pauses for a couple of seconds. Contemplating the options he had here. He can shoot the cop and go, he really can, but that would only cause more trouble. Trouble he can’t afford happening. So instead of pointing it to the window and pulling the trigger, he pulls it out and throws it under his seat, keeping it out of sight.

 

It’s too dark to make out features, but her face is small and completely emotion-ridden. She already had her gun pointed straight at Hoseok before he looks up at her.

“Out of the vehicle, please,” Her voice is impossibly steady for her sweaty forehead, eyes never shaking once.

 

She can’t see him through the tinted window, he knows she can’t, but she still points the gun perfectly. When she sees no movement for a few seconds, she takes a steady step closer to the window and starts to pull the hand that held the gun back slightly--

 

But Hoseok willingly starts to roll the window down himself. Cleaning broken glass out of the car would be a fucking pain.

 

Again.

 

Hoseok arches an eyebrow, a hint of make-shift amusement in his voice. “Is something wrong, officer?”

 

“Get the fuck out.”

 

“Excuse me?” He frowned, the previous tone long gone.

 

“I said,” She pauses, shoving her gun back into its holder on one of her sides. “Get the fuck out.”

 

An amused expression takes over his face as he looks up at her, seeing how her cheeks got a little red from the cold breeze rushing past her. One of her hands is still on her gun, while the other stayed clenched by her side. Hoseok’s eyes involuntary start to scan her face now that she’s closer.

 

“Do I need to repeat myself?”

 

“Alright, alright,” He sighs aloud, raising his arms up in mock defeat while stepping out of his car.

 

But, for the third time in one night, he doesn’t expect what happens next.

 

He barely has a chance to have his two feet on the ground before she grabs both his wrists harshly, pulling them behind his back to the point that he let out a yelp of pain at the awkward angle she bends them at. She slams his front against the backdoor of his car. He grunts when feels cold metal sealing around both his wrists. 

 

“Didn’t know they recruit the feisty ones nowadays, Officer,” A hint of amusement could be heard in his voice, but he still speaks through gritted teeth. When he looks back, his gaze locks with hers.

 

“It’s Detective, asshole.” She locks the cuffs on his wrists with a click, before she yanks him off of the car. He tries to shake himself out of her grip in annoyance before her hands leech around him once more. With a stronger hold this time. Almost too strong for a woman . Not like the ones he knew, anyway.

 

Well, maybe not all of them.

 

Fuck...Half of them.

 

He lets her push him into the police car willingly,  finally realizing that there’s no use in fighting back if he wants to come out clean. It’s not like he was going to confess or anything, but he knows he’ll get out of it. He has to act by the code, nevertheless.

 

That fucking code. They’ve lived by it for so long. Too long.

 

Hoseok isn’t exactly big on being fed bullshit, and neither is Yoongi, nor the rest of their people. So it was an understatement that his first reaction was objection when they were told that the buyer wanted to keep his identity anonymous, and would get the deal done with his second in command.

 

“This basically spells out danger,” Hoseok’d said, leaning against Yoongi’s desk with an empty glass in a hand. “Probably gonna be a setup.”

 

“I know,” Yoongi replied, leaning forward to put out his cigarette while exhaling the remaining smoke out of his chest. “But if it were, it’d be good to know who’s tryna screw us to teach ‘em a lesson. Don’t you think?”

 

“It’s still risky-”

 

“We’re not the ones to be belittled, Hoseok.” Yoongi cut him off harshly, standing up from behind his desk. He started walking around the desk until he stopped in front of Hoseok, who turned around to face him. “Not back then, not now, not ever.” There was an edge to his voice, both of them staring unblinkingly at each other. Yoongi leaned forwards, grabbing the empty glass from Hoseok’s hand.“Even if it was a setup, we are definitely more than capable to double screw them over.”

 

Hoseok let out a loud sigh, a hand raising to land on the back of his head, brushing his hair around into a big mess. “What does everyone else think about this?”

 

“They’re agreeing that it’s a risk,” Yoongi replied, his voice a little raspy. He stood with his back to Hoseok, pouring both of them another drink. “But it’s one to be taken.” He sighed and paused, turning back around. The previously empty cups were filled with a golden-colored liquid. “Besides, those people sound like rookies. They don’t seem to know who they’re trying to mess with.”

 

“You arrogant fucker,” Hoseok chuckled, grabbing his glass from Yoongi’s hand. “You just leech on any chance to show off power, don’t you?”

 

“It ain’t arrogance, Hobi,” Yoongi clicked his tongue before bringing his own drink to his lips. “It’s showing everyone their given places. It seems more like I'm even doing them a favor, for fuck’s sake.” 

 

“Yeah, right,” Hoseok snorted, looking to the side while taking a sip. He stared at the empty wall for some time, unblinking, before he looks back at Yoongi. “What if something goes wrong?”

 

“Nothing will go wrong.”

“Nothing will go wrong my ass,” Hoseok mumbles under his breath, sitting in a square room with one lamp dangling from above him. His hands are still handcuffed, placed on the table in front of him. He keeps fidgeting with his fingers as he waits for someone to come and end his growing boredom.

 

And he’s highkey hoping it’d be the detective that arrested him.

 

He looks at the mirrored glass in front of him, knowing well at least a couple of people are watching his every move.

 

“I’m not exactly a free person, you know?” He lets out, looking around the mirrored glass wall. “If you want to talk to me this bad you could at least be here, for fuck’s sake.”

Behind the mirror, his voice comes out with static through the microphones in the interrogation room.

 

“I swear I've seen him somewhere before.” A voice boomed through the quiet room, startling the woman leaning her hands on the table in front of her.

 

“Maybe he was a suspect in one of your cases before or something,” Her voice is quiet but emotionless nonetheless. She’s been staring at the man in front of her, trying to get out a flaw that she could use on him, but she keeps failing miserably. When she hears a snort behind her, she finally turns around. “What? I’m trying to help, here.”

 

“I’d remember if he was a suspect, Jina.”

 

“Well, no one’s perfect, Namjoon .”

 

It was a failed attempt from Namjoon to lighten the mood. He knows for a fact that she looks tense, almost too tense to go start the interrogation like that. He pulls his lips in a thin line, staring up at her with a sigh. 

 

A thin layer of sweat broke off from her forehead by the time she arrived back at the station, after going out alone with a team to the scene. She was pushing the suspect on her hands to move, while he only scoffed and made himself heavier to be more difficult to be pushed. It was probably just to see her suffer, which she didn’t give him the satisfaction of, and dragged him all the way to the interrogation room instead.

 

Other people were rushed into the station as well, but none of them looked, nor felt as important as the one she had.

 

The moment Namjoon saw her after returning, he gave her an earful about how she shouldn’t have gone out on this one alone as it seemed ‘Too risky’ By which Jina replied by “Our whole career is too risky .”

 

Which also allowed him to throw a few curse words at her for the kicks and giggles.

 

Namjoon opens his mouth to reply, but he is interrupted by the door opening.

 

“Sunbae,” Jongho says hurriedly. He walks towards Jina in quick steps. He stretches his hand out, holding a file in his hand.“This is everything we found on him. We found a firearm in his car as well.”

 

She grabs it.“Thanks, Jongho.”

 

“And uh…” He starts, his hand going up to his nape. “I don’t think this is right.”

 

“What do you mean?” She frowns and Namjoon stands up to get closer to her. She opens the file and looks at his information, and she doesn’t miss the way Namjoon holds his breath for a moment.

 

“M&J Holdings.” Namjoon reads aloud, snapping his fingers. “I knew i’d seen him somewhere before!”

 

“Am I supposed to know what that is?”

 

“It’s one of the biggest companies in South Korea, basically,” Jongho explains, while Namjoon snatches the file from her hands. He keeps it low enough for her to look with him.

 

“The bigg est.” Namjoon corrects.

 

“Why would they do dirty work like this, then?” Jina asks, looking at the birthdate with a slight frown. Although he didn’t look like it, but he was around five years older than she was. Only a few months older than Namjoon. She looks away from the almost empty file to the suspect himself, who was groaning and thrashing in his seat out of frustration.

 

“No idea,” Namjoon closes the file. “He’s pretty clean though. There’s nothing on him.”

 

“Seems a little fishy.”

When the door suddenly opens, Hoseok’s eyes snap to it, eager to know who will step out from behind it. When his gaze is met with the one he was anticipating to see, the corners of his lips slightly pull up in a barely visible smirk that disappears just as quickly as it was formed.

 

Jina pushes the door closed with one hand, while the other holds a thin, yellow file that she places on the table once she reaches it. She walks to the seat across from Hoseok and sits down, never breaking eye contact. She places her arms on the table between them, mimicking his position, and leans forward.

 

“So, Jung Hoseok.”

 

“So,” He starts, his eyes trailing down until they land on the ID that hangs down from her neck. He blinks and locks his gaze with hers again. His lips stretch back in a smirk. “Park Jina.” He arches an eyebrow, not earning a reaction out of her again. “I see my file’s looking a bit thin, there.”

 

“Unfortunately,” She pulls her lips in a straight line and takes a breath, her shoulders raising in the process. “But that doesn’t make me any less suspicious of you.”

 

He shrugs and leans back in his seat.“Sucks to be you, I guess,” 

 

“What do you think you’re here for, Jung Hoseok-ssi?”

 

“A speeding ticket?” He guesses, making it sound more like a question. “But I don’t think all this was necessary, though.” He clicks his tongue and tilts his head to the side for a moment. “I mean, I did go a ttiiinnyy bit over the speed limit, but-”

 

“So there weren’t any drop-offs or drug involvement or anything?” Jina asks casually, arching an eyebrow of her own. She leans forwards a little further, putting her chin on her raised hands. “No absolute reason for you to be in handcuffs?”

 

“Nah,” Hoseok smiles and leans forwards as well, coping her position. “I’d say this is quite problematic, even.”

 

“Why did we find a firearm in your car, then?”

 

“Why would I answer a question like that?”

 

Her gaze remains intense and unwavering against his own, but he isn’t one for backing out either. Now that he can see her clearly under the warm light of the lamp dangling above them, he could see that her eyes are brighter than he remembered them being. Her nose is small, straight, and pointy, and the shape of her eyes is winged and catlike as if they were drawn by an artist. A few freckles were scattered around her cheeks and nose, only now visible since he’s so close to her. Her hair, unlike when she arrested him, is now falling freely right above her shoulders, a sea of light brown waves. Some strands are darker, yet others seem almost blonde. Maybe the light made it look like that.

 

She watches him in silence as he scans her face. When his eyes drop to her mouth, he sees how her shoulders fall steady, and her breath hitches. The natural pink color blends perfectly with her skin tone. Her lips are shaped like a cupid’s bow, and the bottom one is a little swollen. Like she was biting down on it a little too much.

 

And Hoseok wants to sigh out loud in frustration because, under any other circumstance, he would’ve never let this woman go home alone, and those handcuffs would be on her pretty wrists instead.

 

And for some reason, he can’t help but feel like she looks familiar.

 

Hoseok feels his face drop all kinds of emotion gradually and he looks up to her eyes again, his lips parting involuntarily. She drops her gaze to the table, hiding her face from his sight for a few moments, and brushes one hand through her hair. The detective lets out an amused chuckle.

 

“Ah, the stereotype everyone puts for women are crazy,” She snickers, looking back up to meet Hoseok’s eyes again. This time there is a faint red color across her cheeks that would’ve been unnoticeable if he was any further from her.

 

“Made your cheeks go red like a little girl, though.” Hoseok collects his act once more, an eyebrow arching teasingly. He watches as her face goes emotionless again.

 

She fights the urge to swallow hard, trying to force her own body to stop reacting to the man sitting across from her. “Tell you what,” She starts, putting both her hands flat down on the file that contains his personal information. “If you tell me what were you doing with the people we caught, I’ll help you get out of here. You don’t have much on you anyway.”

 

“So I, an eleven-year-old, should believe the bullshit you’re throwing at me and be a good dear boy, right?” He questions sarcastically, a humorless chuckle falling off of his lips. “I don’t receive orders, detective . I give them.”

 

The drop in his tone at the last sentence somehow managed to trail shivers down her spine, making her almost quiver. “What were you doing there, Jung Hoseok-ssi?”

 

Hoseok chuckles again, leaning forward more until he could almost feel her breath on his cheeks. “Detective Park…” He lets out in a murmur that only she can hear, flickering his gaze up from the table below them to her eyes. She freezes, flustered at how close he suddenly got. “Do you know what Omertà is?”

 

She stays where she is, eyes now unblinking, searching for an answer to his unusual question. 

 

Hoseok sees how her eyebrows started furrowing, and it made his lips pull back in a smirk. He finally leans backward in his seat again, letting his hands fall between his thighs. Soon enough, he hears hurried, heavy footsteps getting closer outside the door, and he lets out a sigh of relief.

 

Jina flinches when the door slams open, revealing a very angry-looking Park Jeongsu.

 

“Sir,” Jina stands up from her seat, coming face to face with the man. “I was-”

 

“You were fucking things up, Detective,” Jeongsu scolded lowly, his tie seeming to be a little crooked. His shoulder heave up and down a little bit, his gaze unblinking. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

 

“I’m interrogating the suspect, sir.”

 

“A suspect?” He takes a step closer to her, keeping his voice steady with ease. “Do you know who that is?”

 

“I’ve come to know just now, sir, yes.” She folds her hands in front of her and she bites down on her lower lip again. Her way of trying to stop herself from throwing out words like they were timebombs, only to fail miserably. “But that doesn’t make him any less of a suspect.”

 

Her senior stares at her calmly for a few seconds. “Unlock his handcuffs.”

 

“But I'm not done with--”

 

“Unlock his cuffs, Jina.” He repeats, this time through gritted teeth. “Now.”

 

She stares at him for a few seconds, eyes unblinking. Jeongsu holds her gaze and tilts his head to the side a little before she turns to Hoseok again. She dips her hand in the pocked of her jeans and fishes out a pair of keys. When she looks up at Hoseok, her gaze is harsh and angry.

 

He plants his elbows on the table in front of him, raising his wrists upwards, a victorious smirk planted on his lips. He waits patiently as she unlocks his cuffs one by one, his expression falling as he keeps his gaze on the woman looking down at the cuffs. When she finally pulls back the cuffs from his wrists, Hoseok stands up straight.

 

Hoseok’s eyes finally show his detestation purely for the first time of the night. Jina leans back on the table to put more distance between them and stares back at him. The earful she just heard was enough humiliation for one day, and she isn’t going to let someone like him have the satisfaction of making her look away.

 

“About fucking time, Jeongsu,” Hoseok was the one to look away first. He looks up at Jeongsu, who still stood by the door, and starts walking towards him. As he passes, he bumps his shoulder into Jina’s on purpose. 

 

“I’m sorry, Hoseok-ssi. I only knew just now--”

 

“Whatever,” Hoseok cuts him off and swings his hand dismissively, walking past him with confident strides.“Just let me get the fuck out of here.”

Jina is the ace of her department.

 

It took tremendous effort, a couple of bullet scars, along with an uncountable amount of blood, sweat, and tears, but she’d do it all over again if time was to turn back. No matter what else she tried to convince herself with, though, at some point, she started feeling like everyone around her didn’t really feel the same way she does about their job.

 

During her time in service, she watched the number of corrupt cops being revealed increase gradually, way more than she’d like to admit to anyone. Not even to herself. Especially in her department, which soon made her develop some trust issues.

 

Not like she needed any more of that already.

 

It’d keep her up at night sometimes. She knew the world was way fucked beyond fixing, but those people had an oath to keep, and by the looks of it, not everyone gave a damn about it. Whenever a new one surfaces, she starts to wonder what could’ve possibly made someone do the shit they do.

 

Money? Power? Fear of being stomped on? She could never pinpoint where it went wrong. It may have been none of those things, or all of them combined. She felt like it was sort of understandable, considering the world’s status, but she still didn’t know how their conscious let them do such things. 

 

They all varied. One involved in drugs, another with weapons, sex trafficking, prostitution, and the list only starts from there.It felt like the world was going to hell. Like it’s getting too dirty to be lived in.

 

She encountered many partners in different departments as an officer, but she never felt at ease with someone until Namjoon was transferred from Ilsan. It was around the same time she was finally transferred to the violent crime unit as she’d always wanted. It took her some time to warm up to him, and he was patient with her. Coming to think of it one time, she realized that Namjoon might have been the first actual friend she had.

 

They were both starting in division 2, Choi Siwon being their leader. They stayed like that for a couple of years before Jeongsu decided they needed more people, and one by one, Yunho and Jongho were promoted and placed into their division.

 

“I wanted to punch him in the face so bad…” Yunho grumbles, crushing up a piece of paper in his hands until he forms a ball. “Both of them.”

 

“Now, we don’t say shit like that about our unit leader, do we?” Siwon glares at the younger, earning a sigh. He turns to Jina. “But yes. He could’ve dismissed you in better ways than that.”

 

Jina exclaims in frustration. “Thank you.”

 

“It was uncalled for, period,” Namjoon says. “She’s doing her damn job.”

 

“It’s because he’s an important person,” Siwon says. “You don’t want them angry. Could get your asses suspended.”

 

“Bullshit,” Jina says and turns to Jungho, who sat behind his desk. “Did you find anything else in the car?”

 

He shrugs. “We found the firearm and his phone. Everything else was useless.”

 

“I’m gonna go insane.” She puts her face in her hands with a whine. “What the fuck are they doing in there? It’s been an hour!”

 

After Jeongsu put a fucking bullet in her ego, right there for everyone in the station to see and gossip about, he’s had Jung Hoseok in his office for god knows how long. Jina joins her team where they sit, all eyes on her, hushed voices transferring everything that had happened between one another.

 

“Jina.”

 

She wants  to storm in that room and give the pair of them a piece of her mind.

 

“Yo!” Yunho throws the ball of paper at her, making her flinch and finally look at him. “Were you even listening?”

 

“Sorry, what were you saying?”

 

“Namjoon-hyung was saying we should go for drinks tonight. It’s late already.”

 

 Jina looks in the direction of the room again. “I wanna wait until he comes out,”

 

Namjoon snorts.“What good will that do you, Ms. my-ego-is-hurt?”

 

She gives him a death glare while clicking her tongue and throws the piece of paper Yunho threw at her earlier,  hitting him in the nose. “My ego deserves to be hurt. That was fucking humiliating.”

 

Siwon sighs. “Jina…”

 

“Let’s go,” Namjoon stands up, grabbing his coat from the back of his chair with everyone following suit. “Let’s go over this tomorrow.”

 

Jina shakes her head in reply and faces her desk, grabbing on it to pull herself closer. Even though she knows how stubborn her friend can be, the least she could do is stand her ground and wait for them to come out. Although, when Jongho pulls her chair back while Namjoon grabs her coat, she didn’t even have it in her to protest. She slumps back against her chair and looks up at Namjoon, who sends her a deadpan.

 

“Let’s go.” He gestures  to the exit with his head, his voice full of determination.

 

“Let’s just stay for-”

 

“Let’s go, Jina,” Namjoon repeats, cutting her off by throwing her stuff at her to put his own coat on.“What do you wanna do when he gets out, huh? Punch him in the gut?”

 

“Oh, it’s tempting, alright.” She grumbles out, finally getting up to put on her coat too. “I wanna slap that smug expression right off of his face.”

 

“Ahh,” Siwon lets out, already walking away. “You’re gonna be a pain in the ass for a few days.”

 

With a roll of her eyes, she allows herself to be dragged away by her bigger friend. Frustration was still clear on her face.

 

“Jina.”

 

The feeling of her body tensing suddenly was irritating, but she wastes no time to turn her head.

 

Jeongsu stands by the door to his office, a hand on the door frame and the other on the door itself with him between them. Their eyes meet, and Jina’s shoulders are visibly pulled like a guitar string. He gestures to the inside of the office with a tilt of his head before walking back inside, leaving the door slightly ajar.

 

Jina looks at Namjoon, dropping her bag again with a deadpan plastered on her face.

 

“Try not to start throwing fists.”

 

She flips him off.

Hoseok’s eyes turn towards the door upon hearing the clicking of the detective’s boots, the scowl from earlier still hanging on his features. She closes the door after she enters, and their eyes met for a few moments before she drags them to her boss.

 

“Yes, sir?”

 

“Apologize.”

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“You heard me.” Jeongsu sits on the chair behind his desk with a sigh, stretching his legs comfortably in front of him. “Apologize.”

 

“For what, exactly?”

 

“I mean, the handcuffs were a little tight.”

 

Jina turns to him again, eyes hardening. “I was only doing my job, though. I got a call saying there was a drug exchange at a certain time and a certain place. Don’t you think I should’ve given it a go? With me being a detective, and all. Maybe get myself a raise or something.”

 

“With that attitude,” Hoseok clicks his tongue.“You won’t be gettin’ jack-shit.”

 

“Well, that isn’t really something for you to decide.”

 

“Are you sure about that?”

 

“Enough.” Jeongsu jumps in, leaning forward on his desk. “It’s been a long day already, Jina. Let’s get this over with.”

 

“But-”

 

“Jina.” Jeongsu’s voice held a warning this time. Jina stares, eyes holding a silent plea for him not to make her do this, but she soon realizes that it was useless. She looks at the wall behind him, her jaw clenching tightly, knuckles turning white. 

 

It takes her a few more seconds to snap her eyes to Hoseok’s.

 

“I’m sorry, sir .”

 

Hoseok looks at her, raising his chin up a little as he takes in her appearance one more time before he stands up and walks towards her. His steps were slow and lazy, but confident nonetheless. Jina already hates how much pride he carries on his shoulders.

 

He stops a foot away from her. “For what, exactly?”

 

“For my reckless behavior, sir.”

 

“There we go,” He smirks. Dark, mischievous eyes look down at her. “Was that too hard?”

 

“You can take a few days off, Detective,” Jeongsu states before she could react.“Looks like you’re a little stressed.”

 

“ Very stressed, if I may say so myself.” Hoseok pushes. He crosses his arms over his chest, and Jina snaps her gaze to his again.

 

Jina could hear her heartbeat in her ear, a slight tremor in the hand that she clenches tightly. She no longer was hiding her emotions, letting frustration and anger overflow on her features easily, and she wanted to punch him. Wanted to punch him so hard that she cuts him. Just to leave a mark on him. Maybe that would calm down the fire she can feel eating at her skin angrily.

 

But she can’t.

 

“You can go now,” Jeogsu dismisses her, and she barely lets him finish his sentence before she storms out of the room. If she stayed more she might as well drop her gun and ID because she wasn’t going to keep her job after what she does what she wants.

“Didn’t know the day would come when I have to pick you up from a police station.”

“I didn’t either.” is Hoseok’s only reply as he climbs in the passenger seat of his friend’s Audi R8.

His jaw is clenched tightly, a hard grimace stuck to his face. He looks at the person staring at him from the driver’s seat briefly, then proceeds to lean his elbow on the closed window’s frame to stare out of the window. 

“You look pissed.”

“You think?!” Hoseok snaps his head to the side. “I had a feeling we’d get fucked over, didn’t I? I kept telling everyone to reconsider, but all you did was try to make yourselves believe that you’re right.” He points a finger to himself then to the driver. “I was put in fucking handcuffs, Seokjin. Handcuffs. Me .”

“I heard you the first time,” Seokjin says, and the engine roars to life. “But we all knew it was a risk, Hoseok. We all knew something seemed fishy.”

“But you still went for it.” Hoseok drops his hands to his lap, a hard glare directed to the side of Seokjin’s face. “And you fucking sent me to do it.”

“It had to be one of us,” Seokjin tells him right away. “With that situation on hand, we couldn’t trust it to go like a usual deal. It had to be one of us to let them know who they’re playing with.”

“Your fucking egos are the only things that are gonna make us fall behind.”

“Says the guy that’s too pissed because he was put in handcuffs for like… five minutes.” Seokjin scoffs, resting an elbow on the window frame to put his head in his palm. He holds onto the steering wheel lazily with the other hand. “By a chick.”

Hoseok pushes his tongue to the inside of his cheek, keeping his head forwards.

“How did that feel like, by the way? With it being the first time being the handcuffed, not the handcuff-er ?”

“This is literally the worst timing ever.”

Seokjin looks at him with a smirk. “Was she pretty?”

“I will punch you.”

“Ahh, she was.”

“One more word, I swear--”

Seokjin raises a hand in mock defeat. “Alright, Jeez.” 

Hoseok lets out a long huff, running one of his hands through his brown mess of hair. He leans back in his seat as the car falling quiet. Fluttering his eyes closed for a few seconds, he lets his head fall back to the headrest with a quiet thud.

It feels like he’s crashing down from a high. His bones shook a little too much, and he knew it was the adrenaline leaving his body. His hands shake, and he grabs his thighs to try to make them stop. The fabric is rough against his hands as he slides them down until he barely reaches his knees.

Hoseok tries to take in a breath, but it cuts short when he notices how the air isn’t reaching his lungs. The scent of the air freshener is too pungent, and he frowns. He opens his mouth a little, inhaling one more time to force the air in through his nose and mouth at the same time. He’s a little calmer as he exhales, tension leaving his rigid body ever so slightly.

His mind’s still foggy and he’s still shaking, but he’s a little calmer.

He opens his eyes to look at Seokjin.

Aside from his moving chest and the occasional blinking, the man is pretty much frozen. His eyes are taped to the road ahead of them, his hand tightening on the wheel every now and then. Hoseok doesn’t know how he’s keeping his cool, but he knows better than to ask. He knows the older is doing it for his sake. Because at least one of them has to stay calm, and Seokjin takes that role almost all the time that Hoseok feels bad. 

He feels bad because Seokjin never shows anything. Never shows if the pressure is too much or too little, or if there’s any at all. He’d deliver bad news with a steady voice and straight posture because none of them can afford impulsivity. Because there has to be someone that does the grounding when needed. Because maybe they’re all a little fucked in the head.

And Hoseok feels bad. He feels bad because he knows how much of a pain it can be to push it all down. Because Seokjin wasn’t always like this.

“How’d you catch the fucker?”

Seokjin meets his gaze. “When you called Yoongi, Jeongguk turned on the tracker you planted on him. He found him before the police could.”

“And the drugs?”

“They have it,” Seokjin replies momentarily, pressing his lips together afterward. “Some of it, at least. The rest is with the car that managed to escape.”

“Great.” Hoseok runs a shaky hand down his face. “So, what now? 15Kgs of pure shit is gone with half the price? And the fucking government has hands on half of it?”

“Did Jeongsu tell you anything?”

“He doesn’t know shit,” Hoseok spits, looking back out of the window. “That fucking detective went out without him knowing after she got the call.”

“The call?” Seokjin furrows his eyebrows, looking at Hoseok briefly. “What call?”

“Someone called in and told them about the time and location. Jeongsu barely knew what was going on until I was being interrogated.”

“Did the detective let off anything?”

“She just told me about the call.” His eyebrows furrow again upon mentioning the detective. “Not like we needed more proof that that fucker, whoever the fuck he is, fucked us the fuck over.”

“That was too many ‘fuck’s in one sentence, Hobi.”

“Bite me.”

As they draw closer to their destination, Hoseok grows more restless. He earns himself a few curses here and there from the older, but he keeps clenching and loosening his fist rhythmically. His hands are itchy and his eyes were on the warehouse that drew closer. His heartbeat starts to pick up again, and he only takes a breath when he’s outside the car.

The doors creak loudly as they push them open, the sound a little too annoying for Hoseok’s ears. The interior’s quite dark and the ceiling’s high, like they were swallowed by a black hole. It takes Hoseok a few seconds for his eyes to adjust to the darkness, but he picks up his speed when he sees Seokjin’s figure beside him. They walk further inside. 

All the lamps dangling from the ceiling are turned off, almost as if no one was inside.

Almost.

While Hoseok’s steps inside are fast and eager, Seokjin walks calmly behind him with his hands shoved in the pockets of his dark coat. He already knows what is about to happen. It’d be a waste of energy.

At some point, they start to get to an area that doesn’t have any windows or high exits, just plain, tall walls, and it feels like they’re walking in a maze. Darkness took over them, engulfing them further into the abandoned warehouse, but their eyes already adjusted to the dark. Only when they started hearing the cackles of fire nearby, they noticed its shadows around a corner.

Hoseok swallows hard, his steps slowing down a little.

“We have to keep the electricity out,” Seokjin tells him, voice echoing in the empty area. “It’s pushed far away. Don’t mind it too much.”

The younger tilts his head a little before straightening up again, rounding the corner, and his eyes can’t help but fall on the obnoxiously bright little fire pushed to the very far corner of the area. He takes his eyes off of it right away, refusing to look for too long. Seokjin told him not to mind it too much.

When he turns his head to the front, ignoring the pathetic hitch in his breath, he finally sees the fucker. Tied to a chair. Blindfolded.

Two other people are present in the room.

There’s a table a few feet away from where Wontae is tied, and Yoongi’s half-sitting on it. One leg dangled in the air and the other’s planted on the dusty floor. One of his hands is in his pitch-black hair as he pushes it back from his face while the other dangles between his thighs, a dark firearm grasped loosely in it.

The expression on his face is unreadable, but it’s calm nonetheless. His eyes are planted on the heaving figure in front of him, studying every droplet of blood on his face and clothes with still eyes.

Jeongguk, on the other hand, is showing much more emotions than Yoongi. His face scrunches up in a deep scowl, his jaw clenching repeatedly to show the wide dimples on each side of his face. His palms are planted face down on the dirty table, displaying his reddened knuckles, drenched with blood that certainly isn’t his. And unlike Yoongi, his shoulders are moving up and down rapidly, trying to tame down his anger.

Upon hearing a new pair of footsteps nearing, Jeongguk and Yoongi’s heads snap to where Hoseok and Seokjin are coming from. After that, Hoseok doesn’t really feel anything until his fist collides with the side of Wontae’s already fucked up face.

“Do you have a fucking deathwish?!” His voice echoes off the high walls around them, making it seem louder than it already was. “Do you know what you just got yourself into?!”

“Hoseok—”

“Shut up,” He throws a look over his shoulder at Yoongi, who holds his gaze in a hooded glare. Hoseok looks at the man in his hold again. “Give me a name.”

“S-sir, I just—”

“A fucking. Name.” Hoseok speaks slowly, a groan vibrating at the top of his throat. He grabs Wontae’s bloody collar, pulling him closer. “Before I fucking tear you to pieces, right here, right now.”

“He isn’t letting out anything, Hyung.” Jeongguk’s voice boomed beyond the crackling of the fire, and Hoseok is reminded of its presence again. “Looks like he’s on a very tight leash.”

“I don’t give a flying fuck,” He replies, still looking at where Wontae’s eyes are supposed to be behind his blindfold. “Who the fuck do you work for?”

“I-I cuh...I can’t—”

“The hell you can!” Hoseok roars after delivering another punch, cutting Wontae off. He grabs the blindfold and tears it off of his face, revealing a pair of pained, reddening eyes. “You know I'll fucking kill you, right?” His knuckle is throbbing, but he still feels like punching the bastard “I was arrested, you fucker! I was arrested while you ran away like the little cockroach you fucking are!”

Wontae lets out a choked sob and leans his face to the side, away from Hoseok’s gaze of fury. “He’s got my f-family. I can’t—”

“You do realize that we’re capable of protecting your family if you speak, don’t you?” Upon hearing Yoongi’s voice, Hoseok gives Wontae collarbones a little push, while simultaneously sending a harsh kick to the chair at his crotch, then the man is falling backward with a loud thud. “We’re also more than capable of burning you alive along with your whole family tree. You’ve got to pick a side here, Wontae. And you better pick the better side unless you don’t want to leave here in one piece.”

Wontae coughs out blood, his eyes squeezed shut. He gasps in a few breaths, the sound sharp against the multiple pairs of ears in the room. “You...You do-don’t know anything…” He trails off, snapping his eyes open, the irises wavering from one person to another. “He’s...He’s got…god. Fuck.”

Jeongguk takes a step closer to Hoseok. “He’s got…?”

“He’s powerful!” Wontae shouts, a sob rolling off of his chest. “He’s too fucking powerful… I-I can’t eh-even risk it! You have to believe me, I’m begging you!”

In a blink of an eye, Hoseok cocks his gun and points the barrel down at him. “If you don’t start talking, I swear to god…”

“N-No! Puh...Please, Sir!”

“Hyung…”

“Hoseok.”

“Start talking,” Hoseok states firmly. “Who the fuck do you work for?” He feels fingers wrapping around the elbow of the hand that wasn’t still pointing the gun at Wontae, but he shrugs it off almost as if it’s a normal body reflex. Jeongguk stands beside him and plants his eyes to the side of his head. “We’re figuring it out anyway, so don’t let your death be in vain, kid.”

“I-I duh don’t even know anything! I don’t even know his name, I swear!!” Wontae  screeches out, his gaze locking with Hoseok’s before it weavers to Jungkook, then finally to Yoongi. “All… all i know is that he’s a powerful man and—and he just sent someone to tell me wuh-what I had to do! You have to believe me!”

“And what was that?” Yoongi spares the back of Hoseok’s head a look as he steps closer to them. “What you had to do?”

“I just—” Wontae swallows, eyes turning hopeful. “I had t-to meet you for the dr-drop. I swear. I didn’t even know the cops would pull up.”

Yoongi and Jungkook share a look.

Hoseok tilts his head. “Aren’t you supposed to be his second in command? Whoever the fuck he is?”

“I’m not!” Wontae sobs, squirming uncomfortably. “I’m just a low dog, sir! I am! I don’t know anything!”

“Sir, sir, sir...” Yoongi speaks calmly, a humorless chuckle falling past his lips. He puts his gun in the back of his pants and looks at Joowon. “You’re a very polite person, Jo Wontae.”

Hoseok’s eyes hurt as he keeps them unblinking. The man on the ground looks at him with newly-found hope and Hoseok tries to stop shaking. The sound of the fire crackling is way too loud in his ear, he’s slowly becoming too aware of its presence, and it makes a thin layer of sweat break on his forehead. It feels like he’s consumed by way too many emotions all at once that it feels physically irritating.

He’s going to burst if this goes on for longer. His index finger aches, the touch almost becoming uncomfortable, and fuck he just wants to pull the fucking trigger. 

With a sigh, Yoongi speaks again.“It’s a shame you won’t be of use anymore.”

BANG .

The car ride is quiet. Almost way too quiet. On any usual day with the four of them in the same car, the atmosphere would be the furthest from the one they’re stuck in. Jeongguk would be humming quietly to whatever was playing from the stereo while looking out of the window, Yoongi and Seokjin would be busy engaging in a conversation that only the pair of them were interested in, while the sound of the game that Hoseok plays on his phone jumped out every now and then, echoing in the closed car.

It was always like that. They were always like that.

There were times when it was a little darker than that, sure, but it was never so…dead.

Seokjin is driving again, but this time Yoongi’s the one in the passenger seat.

Exactly like when they drove to the warehouse, Seokjin’s expression remains frozen, only blinking every once in a while. His hands are yet again loosening and tightening on the steering wheel, almost as if that was his way of keeping himself grounded, to still focus on the road beyond them. Except that this time around, his eyes keep meeting Hoseok’s in the rearview mirror from time to time.

Yoongi hasn’t noticeably moved at all since the car started moving. His head rests on the headrest and he has his hands between his thighs, blank eyes staring out of the window, unblinking.

Hoseok looks to the side, catching the sight of Jeongguk as he flexed and unflexed his fist, staring down at his bloodied knuckles. 

“You good?” He speaks in a hushed tone, the energy left in him not allowing him to speak louder than he did.

Jeongguk looks up at him in surprise, and Hoseok almost chuckles at his expression. It’s completely different from when they were in the warehouse. His eyes are wide and neutral, the deep furrow that almost gave him wrinkles at his young age is long gone. His lips fall apart upon hearing Hoseok’s voice, forming a little ‘o’ shape. Jeongguk looks back down at his knuckles before pursing his lips shut. He gazes back up at Hoseok.

“Yeah,” He nods with a shrug.“Are you?”

Hoseok nods as well, licking his drying lips. He turns his head forward, to look at the back of Yoongi’s head once more.

“Jin-hyung said it was a girl that arrested you.”

Hoseok closes his eyes and throws his head back, taking in a sharp intake of breath while hearing Seokjin’s snort from the driver’s seat. As much as he was thankful for Jeongguk for trying to break the ice, he very much didn’t want to talk about that precise topic.

“That ain’t a girl,” Hoseok groans, his hand clenching slightly at the thought. “It was a fucking bitch. She was so fucking full of herself that I wanted to—”

“Yah,” Seokjin cuts him off, throwing him a look of mockery through the rearview mirror. “Keep it PG 13. Kids are present.”

“Hyung, I'm literally twenty-four.”

“I wasn’t talking about you,” Jin points his index finger, addressing Jeongguk, before pointing it to the person in the passenger seat. “I’m talking about the five-year-old that’s too embarrassed to admit he was wrong.”

“I wasn’t wrong…” Yoongi sighs, his voice slightly groggy. “And I wasn’t right either. This was a 50/50 risk and we all knew it.”

“Not all of us agreed to it, though.”

“Well, what happened has fucking happened, Hoseok. There’s no need to fucking rub it in our faces.”

“I told you something was wrong—”

“I know what you said,” Yoongi cuts him off, taking a deep breath afterward. “I knew something was wrong too. We all did. But hell, Hoseok, no matter what’s the coast, I would never let some fucking scumbag walk all over me and my people.”

Jeongguk sighs loudly, a silent agreement falling over the car.

“We’re getting back at that piece of shit,” Yoongi declares like it was a well-known fact. “Screw the drugs. No one plays us like that.”

__________________

“So, It’s a fucking slumber party, ain’t it?”

“Oh, please…” Jimin fires right away, taking his shoes off. His hands are carefully stretched out with three pizza boxes planted on top of them “It was Taehyung’s idea. I only paid.”

Hoseok freezes a few feet away from the door to his apartment upon seeing the two intruders letting themselves inside without permission. He shifts his gaze to the person mentioned, who raises both hands up as he walks forwards, handing him the two packages of canned alcohol.

“It’s a long night. We have shit to do and it seems like some of us haven’t eaten all day long.”

Hoseok presses his lips in a straight line and throws the towel that he was previously drying his hair with over his shoulder. With a sigh and a roll of his eyes, he starts to walk in the direction he knew the loud noise was coming from. 

Taehyung stops walking where the older man previously stood. His hands still hung in the air with the alcohol still grasped in them, and he stares at the back of Hoseok’s head until he disappears around the corner. Jimin giggles from behind him, bumping his shoulder into his as he walks past him to follow their older friend.

“Jeongguk, lower the volume,” Hoseok calls over the sound of the game the younger was playing. “If you fuck up my levels, I’ll skin you alive.”

“You’re on edge today,” Jimin places the boxes on a coffee table, before sitting between Jungkook and Yoongi on the sofa behind it.

“You don’t think I should be?”

“Let him be, Jimin,” Seokjin steps out of the balcony. He throws a cigarette behind his back, before letting out the last puff of smoke. “His ego is hurt because the detective that arrested him was a woman. Let alone the fact that he got arrested, period.”

Jeongguk pauses the game at that, all eyes falling on Hoseok. Jimin lets out a chuckle but soon covers it up with a cough when Hoseok scowls at him.

“It’s not because she’s a fucking woman, don’t make me sound misogynistic. She just pissed me off. Way too much confidence. I don’t like it when someone looks down on me.”

“You didn’t think just because she's a woman you’d still have power over her, did you?” Taehyung asks, handing him a can of beer before passing him to stand by the balcony. He leans his behind slightly on the back of the sofa that the other three sat on. “They tend to make females a little less feminine in the police academy, Hyung. I thought you came to the realization that not everyone that doesn’t have a dick falls to their knees in front of you.”

“Or if they have a dick, it doesn’t really matter,” Seokjin interrupts, flopping down in an armchair with a teasing smirk.

At that, Yoongi cracks his first smile of the evening.

“You don’t get to laugh,” Hoseok points his index finger at him. “Not today.”

“Your point is irrelevant anyway, Hyung.” Jeongguk shrugs. “We know some pretty strong women. You should’ve known better when you have people like Dahye-noona in your life. ” 

Yoongi chuckles. “It’s kinda funny seeing you all worked up because of that.”

“If she was good looking then I guess he really went through a lot today,” Jimin says, grabbing one of the pizza boxes to hand it to Jeongguk. He gladly accepts it before handing a piece to Seokjin, who sat to his left. 

“Ahh, that she was,” Jin states, taking a bite. 

“You wouldn’t have gotten so worked up if you didn’t, at least, think—” 

“One more word…” Hoseok warns, cutting Jeongguk off, and the brat has the audacity to smirk back at him. The older looks up to Taehyung. “Anyways, I think she’ll come looking for more stuff. She looked pissed when Jeongsu made her apologize to me, so I'm gonna need you to dig her up for me. I wanna know where she got all that confidence from.”

“Should we put her down?” Jin proposes, his tone more serious this time.

With a click of his tongue, Hoseok bends down to grab a pizza slice. “I wanna play with her a little.”

“What’s her name?” Taehyung asks.

Hoseok pauses, tilting his head to the side a little. “Park… something.”

“I can’t exactly look into all the female Parks that are police officers, Hyung.”

“She’s in Gwangjin if that makes it any easier.”

“Just send me her name later when you remember it. We have more important matters on our hands now.”  Taehyung responds with a dismissive hand gesture and looks down at Yoongi. “What the fuck are we supposed to do now?”

“Well,” Yoongi adjusts his position, looking up at Hoseok. “We don’t have much on our hands, so let’s just start from there.”

“...From where?” Jeongguk mumbles through a mouthful.

“We start looking for the facts, basically,” Hoseok says. He looks at Jungkook “Did you find Joowon’s phone on him?”

“I did.”

“Then we start from there,” He says with a little shrug. “Let’s see who did he call or text in the past forty-eight hours, or something.”

“You told me he said stuff about his family, too,” Jimin states, looking at Yoongi. “You said that the person had them. Let’s look into that too, maybe we can find something.”

“So we don’t have ‘nothing’” Seokjin raises his fingers to imitate air quotes. “We have plenty to get on with.”

The room falls silent. Hoseok looks from one person to the other, and it looks like they were deep in thought like he was. Trying to look for an error, a crack that could help them find something of importance.

“The person that made the call…” Yoongi breaks the silence. He stares blankly in front of him. “We need to find them too.”

“I asked Jeongsu,” Hoseok says, his shoulders a little slumped. “He has nothing. He said only the person that accepted the call has the information on their system. It was registered under anonymous, anyways.”

“And who accepted the call?”

Hoseok takes a sharp intake of breath, realization dawning on him.“The detective.”

Originally, Jimin and Taehyung weren’t there.

When Jimin and Yoongi first met, Jimin was barely twenty years of age. He’d managed one of the clubs they owned. Yoongi hardly knew who Jimin was, then. The younger still had a bit of brightness left in him from his teenage years, but he still managed to be professional and careful with every step he took so he wouldn’t piss off the big bad boss.

Jimin started working at a random club at eighteen because he needed the cash. He didn’t have anyone else to depend on back then, and he took the first chance he got, oblivious of the fact that the club belonged to names that South Korea spoke of, either in praises or utter fear. Depends on the perspective. He’d originally signed up to be a bartender until the former manager took a rather unique interest in him.

In more ways than one. Jimin is a very talented soul.

He knew martial arts. He was taught since childhood, and after a couple of situations in his workplace, it started gaining him extra attention. He was first known as the pretty bartender in an expensive bar, but voices started talking and he started noticing more eyes on him than usual.

At some point, he found himself involved in a gang. It was small, in a way, under the control of a way bigger one. Handled amateur drug-dealing and prostitution in clubs and brothels and Jimin somehow found himself smack in the middle of everything. His name started sounding familiar to nearby ears and clients asked about him. It only kept echoing until it reached the higher-ups.

Not even a year later, he had one of Omertà’s leaders wrapped around his pinky. A couple more years passed and he owned a couple of the major clubs and brothels under Omertà’s business in Itaewon and around, and by then, Jimin was already a part of their little family.

Saying that he fought his way to the top would be an understatement.

Taehyung’s more recent. It was only a few months after Jimin, even though he’d already been in contact with them for quite some time beforehand.

An ex-policeman.

A detective, to be precise. 

Before he left, there was an online-targeted organization that they had to track down, and the legal system was too damn limited for him to reach any satisfying lead. Back then, Taehyung felt like Jeongguk was his Christmas miracle when he stumbled upon him, and he may or may not have asked him for a few favors.

However, he didn’t know him as Jeon Jeongguk, who played overwatch and murdered people for fun, but knew him as a fellow skilled informat that got him out of shit-holes when needed. One thing had led to another, and Jeongguk started asking him for favors in return. Info, locations of big heads, intel on cases Taehyung went on, anything.

It wasn’t until Taehyung reached the climax of a weaponry case that he and his partner handled, that he knew who Jeongguk really was, and who he worked with. 

It wasn’t a pretty scene, then. Jeongguk with his hands raised above his head as he sat on his knees, with the barrel of Taehyung’s firearm pointed at him. The detective had two options. Shoot his target, drown in self-loathing and grief, or shoot a bullet in the air, and let his conscience eat him alive.

And the choice he took is obvious. It took a lot of effort to reach where he was, and it took even more effort to let it all go.

To Taehyung, it was nothing but a mental, internal fight. Like two different people fought in his head. One was convinced that the legal system’s fucked and already crumbling beneath his feet, and the other was still desperately trying to hold on to the vows he once said. Guilt ate at his whole being the more he stayed, but that wasn’t the only thing pushing him to resign.

It was disappointing, really, to watch almost everyone around him fall to greed and promised power from anyone with illegal authority. That shit played with their heads like yoyos, but he wished that this, too, was his case. At least he wouldn’t have enough human emotions left for him to mentally skin himself alive every night.

It was nauseating. Everything was controlled by upper-hands that loathed one another, trying so hard to enter each other’s territories, and Taehyung finally has his awakening somewhere in between. He watched first hand how he could do more outside the system than inside, and it felt like he was trying to fight in a lost war.  His resignation letter was at his boss’s desk not so long after.

Good thing was, even after resigning, Taehyung still kept his connections and access to all the servers he used to have when he was still serving. It’s why he usually handles this kind of stuff in Omerta and is also why Hoseok gave him the detective’s full name to dig her up for him.

It took Hoseok some time to remember her full name, yes, it’s been a hard day for him, but he still managed to remember it nonetheless.

He also remembers the pride she held into her unwavering brown eyes, how it poured endlessly into his own. He remembers the shade of faded pink that took over her cheeks, and he remembers the different shades of brown in her hair. 

And fuck, she’s pretty.

A fucking waste.

Upon hearing the buzz of his phone, Hoseok turns his head towards the bedside table. He groans a little when he reaches for it. He scoots a little closer when he notices that his hand isn’t reaching it, eyes half-closed. When he picks it up and brings it closer to his face, his eyes flutter closed with a frown because of the brightness and he pulls it back again. He fidgets for a few seconds, trying to turn it down first before looking at it again.

TAE: hyung

TAE: i found her

TAE: and I don’t think she’s the type of person you want to ‘play a little’ with

TAE HAS SENT A DOCUMENT.

H: huh

H: it’s ten in the morning taehyung

H: I’m not reading shit until I wake up properly. give me the important stuff.

T: she graduated around a couple of years after I did and she’s currently an inspector, nevermind her young age.

T: she’s been closing down on the smaller gangs. some of them are even ours, but the majority isn’t. 

T: she’s really good hyung

T: she arrested her own father for drug use and physical abuse, and she even found a connection between him and a gang that self-destructed before she could grasp them. it doesn’t look like he’s getting out of jail anytime soon.

T: she lives with her mom. she also has a brother that’s whereabouts are unknown since their father legally disowned him long ago. no one even knows his name, but he was older than her.

T: she’s dangerous, hyung. I don’t recommend you get yourself involved with her in any way unless you’re planning on taking her out.

H: like with a gun or on a date?

T: ...hyung.

H: how are we supposed to know about the person that made the call, then?

H: I’m gonna have to get involved with her one way or another. if anything goes south I’m gonna handle her my own way. 

T: just be careful, for fuck’s sake.

T: don’t let your ego get in the way too much.

H: kiss my ass.

Hoseok sits up in his bed when Taehyung sends him a document. The tiny bit of light coming from behind the curtains illuminates the room enough for him to be able to see well. He crosses his legs under the covers and taps on the file, running a hand down his face tiredly as he waits for it to load.

Her legal picture is the first thing he sees, along with her name, birthdate, birthplace, and position in the violent crime department. He scrolls down, not meeting anything worthy of his interest other than the things Taehyung told him about. He almost reaches the end, but he finds more pictures. These ones were taken without her knowledge.

He scrolls through them carefully and slowly, inspecting the date on each one to realize that some of them were really recent. 

Like-earlier that morning- recent.

It’s only when he sees her shot with a dark umbrella hanging above her head that he starts to hear the thunder rolling off of the clouds of Seoul that echoed with roars.

She was walking by Han River, one of her hands shoved in the pockets of her champagne-colored coat. She was looking up at the weeping clouds, and her nose and cheeks too red for her to be properly warm. Her hair barely fell on her shoulders. It almost covered up the turtle-neck of her cream-colored sweater. Her lips were slightly parted away from each other. The expression on her face was way softer than what Hoseok saw the day before. The leather glove of the hand that grasped the umbrella above her was wrinkled, showing how tightly she was grasping on the piece of metal. 

He scrolled past the picture, but the one after made him want to stop and stare too.

This one’s older. She was squatted down, sitting nose-to-nose with a huge golden retriever. Her smile was from ear to ear, and her eyes were completely morphed into perfect crescents. Her hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail, showing off her face well.

Hoseok didn’t feel it, but his eyes absentmindedly softened.

“Ah, shit.”

Notes:

AAAND THAT'S IT MY DUDES!!! I hope you enjoyed the first chapter and i hope i see you in the next one!! Don't forget to leave your feedback and kudos ^♡^

Chapter 2: due

Summary:

“And one large strawberry milkshake for today’s princess.” Jina smiles mockingly. She writes down the made-up order, then looks up at Hoseok.“Do you want a cherry on top?”

Notes:

IT TOOK ME A WHILE THERE PHEW! henlo! thank u if u decided to give this au a chance akhfhsdhj. I'm sorry i'm late this time but ive barely had any time to sit down and edit this chapter hehe. things start to take place more in this chapter and the next once, so make sure to read between the lines ;)

also a huge huge thank you for @magicdoses (help idk how to tag ppl) for beta reading with me from the very start! YOU'RE THE BEST!!

i hope you enjoy this one! kudos and feedback are always appreciated <3

“I don’t know, Joon…” 

 

With a cup of hot-choco hugged close to her chest, Jina has one of her feet resting on the sofa she’s sitting on. The only source of light was coming from the floor lap to her right, in the corner of the room where it dimly illuminates the area around her just enough. She can hear the strong wind outside the closed window, but she’s thankful for the heater they have installed for keeping her warm in such harsh weather.

 

It’s a lonely dawn, where orange strands are just about to appear in the purple-ish skies. The detective’s eyes keep growing heavier, but her mind is still racing in her tired head. Every time her eyes give out with her head resting on her raised knee, her mind only pushes more thoughts in, keeping her restless and irritated. It keeps pushing the picture displayed on her laptop to her vision, even through closed eyes. 

 

“What do you mean you don’t know?” Namjoon groans from the other side of the phone. “It’s five in the morning, Jina. Get some sleep.”

 

“I can’t, though,” Jina whines. “I’m so pissed. I wish I punched him when I had the chance.”

 

“You can’t just... punch someone because they frustrate you.”

 

“I can bet he’s dirty,” She says, her tone sounding more snappy. “I know what I saw, Namjoon. I just have to find more proof to bring him in.”

 

She hears him sigh. “He’s a fucking multibillionaire that co-runs the biggest company of the fucking decade. Of course, you won't find shit. These people can be real slick.”

 

She stays quiet at that, her eyes raising slightly to look at the picture on her laptop again.

 

Jung Hoseok looks less disordered in the photograph than how she was introduced to him. He wore a slim black suit, no tie, with the first three buttons undone. A simple necklace hung on his neck prettily, but she couldn’t see the pendant well. He had a microphone close to his mouth with one of his hands wrapped around it in a relaxed manner.

 

His hair still fell on his face, but it’s less messy than she remembers. He looked serious. No cockiness, no playful smirks, and no traces of the asshole she’d met a few hours ago whatsoever.

 

Damn, he really did look like he is...whatever Namjoon said he is.

 

“I’m sorry I woke you up,” Jina says, looking away from her laptop. “I’m just... stressed.” she pauses to look up at the ceiling again. “And fucking frustrated. I hate being disrespected like that.”

 

“I know,” Namjoon sighs again. His tone is softer. “Just get some rest. You need to wake up in a few hours. You said you were going with your mom, didn’t you?”

 

“Yes,” She replies. “ If I stay home I'll probably lose my damn mind.”

 

“I’ll make sure to drop by on my way, then,” Jina hears the smile in his voice, and she finds herself smiling as well. “Now, please, let me go back to sleep. I don't have much time left.”

 

“Right…” She chuckles and leans forwards to put her mug down on the coffee table.“See you later.”

 

“‘G'night.”

 

She lets her phone fall to the soft cushions underneath her and raises her other leg on the sofa to cross both together. Bringing her gaze to the lit screen in front of her, she exhales loudly.

 

“You’re gonna be a pain in my ass, won’t you?”

Jina didn’t exactly have much time to sleep before her mother’s voice was echoing off of the walls of her bedroom. The skies are still as gloomy as the night before and they match her mood perfectly. It isn’t something she isn’t used to, the lack of sleep, but it’s nothing caffeine can’t fix. At least temporarily.

 

Like promised, she goes with her mother to her owned coffee shop, the smell of freshly-brewed coffee and baked goods providing her with just a little bit of serotonin. She never knew what about this coffee shop that gave her so much comfort.

 

This was the first thing she and her mom decided to do after she’d arrested her father. It started out pretty small, but a couple of years later they managed to relocate to a bigger space.

 

Daeun had always looked like she was in her element in the kitchen, back in the day. Jina remembers clearly when he stayed out for too long, she would sit on the counter and watch her mother create delicious masterpieces out of scratch.

 

Days when she was much younger, her brother would be with them too.

 

Jina doesn’t remember much from her childhood, but the way silence took over the house the moment he stepped a foot out of it, never managed to leave her brain. The two kids would stay in their room, holding on to each other for dear life, and they would listen to their mother’s muffled sobs coming from outside oh so helplessly. It was only minutes until they see the doorknob turning, and a smiling Daeun entering.

 

Her brother wasn’t that much older than her. When he left, she was around 14 to 15 years old. Besides the fact that she was terrified of what their father had in store for them, her heart broke for the first time when she lost him.

 

He was her first and only best friend for years considering she has tried and failed to make friends in school. He had to fill in for her as a father role, so he played both roles since they were very little. She remembers his laugh, remembers telling him that it sounds like how a sunny day would. She also remembers him getting angry at their father, remembers his yells and pushes, voice similar to the rolls of thunder. 

 

Then suddenly, their father had to make him leave.

 

She didn’t understand why at first, but as she grew up, she realized it was because he was getting too stubborn and physically capable for their father’s secrets’ safety. She spent her first couple of years in the police department searching for any traces of where he might have gone but managed to break her own heart all over again when she kept finding nothing. She was searching almost too desperately until she just...let it go all together and spared herself the disappointment.

 

She wanted to show him what she did to their pathetic excuse of a father. She still does. Wants to show him where she is, and how she’s keeping both herself and their mother safe well on her own. 

 

“Let me just…” Jina takes out the phone in the back pocket of her jeans, swipes the camera open, and starts to take pictures from various angles of the mouth-watering baked goods in the delivery box in front of her.

 

Her mother laughs from beside her at the counter, standing by the cashier while a familiar-looking customer joins in with a chuckle, both their eyes on her.

 

“It’s so good seeing you here again, Jina,” The older lady says happily, making Jin look up at her with a bright smile as she seals the box between her hands. “The whole atmosphere changes.”

 

Jina chuckles and hands the lady her order. “Thank you.”

 

The lady smiles back at her, pats her hand, then turns to leave the shop with her order.

 

“See?” Daeun says. The bell by the door chimes while Jina turns around to face her.“It wasn’t a bad idea after all.”

 

“I may look fine but I’m running on two hours of sleep and three cups of coffee, mother dearest.”

 

“Don’t be a brat.” She hits her butt playfully, shoving a note and a pen into her chest with a giggle that they both let out simultaneously. “A group of four just came in. Go give them the menu.”

 

She grabs four menus from underneath the counter and walks out from behind it, opening one of them to inspect out of sheer boredom until she reaches the table. She closes the menu and raises her head up with a  greeting smile.

 

“Good morn-“

 

Her words are cut short. The features of one of the four sitting in front of her are a little too familiar for her liking. Her stomach twists and her breath gets stuck in her throat, her body tensing almost painfully at the sight of the same smug expression that’s still fresh in her memory from the day before.

 

Jung Hoseoks is looking up at her, and she still wants to punch him just as bad.

 

“Cat got your tongue?”

 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Jina slams the menus down on the table with a little thud, even gaining attention from a few pairs of eyes around.

 

“It’s early. People usually have breakfast at this time-“

 

“Don’t bullshit me,” Jina bends down a little, putting her palms face down on the wooden table. “How’d you know I’m here?”

 

He shares a look with one of the people he’s with then looks up at her. “Who do you think am I?”

 

“You’re a fucking asshole, that’s who.”

 

“You kiss your mother with that mouth?”

 

“You don’t speak of her.” Jina snaps, her index finger pointing threateningly at him. “I’ll literally end you.”

 

“That didn’t work out well yesterday, though. Did it not?”

 

“Can i-“ the person on his left suddenly says and raises one hand for a few seconds. He looks up at Jina, his dark hair soft on his forehead.“Can I have the menu, please?” He asks in a surprisingly polite tone. “You guys can get back to your barking after.”

 

“I don’t think I'm gonna be serving this table today,” Jina scowls, collecting the menus back in her hands. “Unless you want to be poisoned.”

 

“Jina, what’s taking you so long?”

 

The sound of her mother’s voice so close startles her, and she has no time to turn around before she hears a gasp coming from her.

 

“No way…”

 

“Fuck.”

 

“You’re…” Daeun trails off, pushing Jina aside. Her eyes are wide with recognition and her hands are clapped together at her chest. She lets out a chuckle of visible shock, then starts to talk again. “What a surprise!”

 

Jina points at Hoseok with the menus she has. “You know him?”

 

“Do I know him?” Daeun laughs, giving her daughter a weird look briefly before stepping closer to the table and starts to stretch out a hand to him. “Don’t you?”

 

Before Jina could stop her, Hoseok was already on his feet, taking her hand and bowing politely in front of the older lady. The other three stand up as well and bow just as politely, mouthing their greetings, and Jina frowns at the shift of Hoseok’s expression as he smiles at her mom, his eyes turning into happy crescents.  

 

“Good morning!”

 

“Oh,” Daeun squeals lightly, bringing back her hand to her chest. “You’re much more handsome in real life!”

 

At that, Hoseok lets out a sound that Jina refuses to believe he just let out.

 

A fucking giggle.

 

“Oh, thank you,” He chuckles and bows a little more, holding his hands together in front of him as a sign of respect. His eyes flicker up to Jina’s for a second, and he catches the blank look plastered on her paling face.

 

“Please, have a seat!” The older woman gestures with her hand to the empty seats, and the group complies right away. “I’ll get your orders done myself.” She smiles warmly, looking at the other three individuals seated on the table, before looking back up at her daughter. “Did you take their orders?”

 

“Not yet, actually,” Hoseok replies instead. He looks back at Jina.“She didn’t even give us the menus.”

 

She only snaps out of her trance when her mom smacks her on the back of her head with a sound of disapproval. Daeun grabs the menus from her hands and gives one to each of them, secretly sending a glare to Jina, who stares at her like she grew two more heads.

 

“Please give her your orders after you’re done,” Daeun tells them and puts a hand on her daughter's bicep. Once she makes sure that the four men are looking in their menus, she looks at her daughter with a hard glare, squeezing her bicep a little too harshly for it to be out of reassurance. “Don’t leave until you have their orders, you hear me?”

 

Before she can process, Jina is left alone again while Daeun hurries back to the counter.

 

“Your mom has taste,” She looks back at him.

 

His voice turned cold again.

 

“I don’t really think so, no.”

 

“It’s a good thing one out of two of this family likes me. It would’ve been a mess if your mom didn’t know who I am.” Hoseok keeps his eyes on the menu, a little smirk threatening to appear on his lips. The person in front of him sighs with a roll of his eyes and puts down his menu with a thud. It seems like he knew what Hoseok is about to say next. “Or… was it four? Where did the other two go?”

 

Jina freezes. Her eyes are still on him. “What did you just say?”

 

“I heard you put your own father in shackles,” Hoseok puts down his menu as well, putting his elbows on the table. He looks up at her. “Kinda wild. I like it.”

 

“Who the fuck are you?”

 

It sounded more like a demand than a question.

 

“Who do you think I am?” Hoseok smirks.

 

“I think you’re a piece of shit-”

 

“Can I have a chocolate milkshake, please?”

 

All heads snap to the guy beside Hoseok, same guy that asked for the menu before. He smiles up at Jina, his doe eyes in position before his lips. She frowns at him for a few seconds, and his smile starts to turn a little awkward before she starts to take out her notebook to note his order down.

 

Jina shakes her head. “Don’t make me want to take you down even more. I arrested my own pathetic excuse of a father like you just said. I put him in his handcuffs myself. Don’t think you’d be any different just because you have some power.”

 

“I am different, though.”

 

She looks up from the notebook and Hoseok raises an eyebrow. Jina’s eyes stay unwavering. She keeps her eyes on his and the tension buzzes around her, and she still wants to punch him. She brings the notebook up again before speaking, not leaving Hoseok’s eyes. 

 

“What can I get you guys?”

 

Only when one of the remaining two starts to tell her his order, she looks away. She writes the orders down while the other one speaks, until it was Hoseoks’s turn.

 

“And one large strawberry milkshake for today’s princess.” Jina smiles mockingly. She writes down the made-up order, then looks up at Hoseok.“Do you want a cherry on top?”

 

Hoseok’s look of disbelief only makes her smile widen, and soon, it starts turning into a smirk of victory. “You little-”

 

She shifts her attention to his companions with a formal smile. “I’ll be right back with your orders!”

Hoseok’s  jaw clenches. He watches as she walks back to the counter before disappearing through a door to the side. He lets his head fall to his chest, hands turning to fists on the table and he flutters his eyes closed. When a snort erupts from beside him, he lets out a tired sigh. 

 

He looks to his left. “Jeongguk, I swear to god-”

 

“Which part of ‘she isn’t the type of person we should mess with.’   didn’t you understand, hyung?” Taehyung asks from in front of him, disappointment lingering through his voice. “I literally said-”

 

“I know what you said,” Hoseok cuts him off, running his hands in his hair while leaning back in his seat. “She just keeps getting on my damn nerves.”

 

“This is the worst excuse ever,” Seokjin doesn’t look up from his phone. “I’d say we tell Jeongsu to fire her, but that would look too suspicious to the public. Some articles are already out about how you spent your evening with the cops yesterday. If we’re including her, we include her carefully. She looks stubborn. If one thing slips out, it’s either her or us.”

 

Hoseok scoffs.“It sounds like you’re scared of her to me.”

 

Seokjin looks up, and his gaze is sharp. “I think you should watch what you’re saying.”

 

“I think both of you should shut the hell up,” Jeongguk Interrupts. “We all fucked up on this one. Let’s not throw accusations at each other.”

 

“Who said I’m throwing accusations?” Seokjin questions in disbelief.

 

“It sounded like it, hyung.”

 

Taehyung puts up a hand to silence Jeongguk.“Just be careful what you say around her. She’s gonna figure it out one way or another if she hasn’t already. She’ll try to look for proof on how to put you down, so please, for fuck’s sake, don’t let your ego get in the way.”

 

“Nothing’s gonna happen. Chill.” Hoseok mutters, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m not a fucking kid.”

 

When the table falls quiet, Hoseok brings his gaze to where the detective disappeared a few minutes ago. When he lets his mind wander, he realizes just how heavy the weight he feels on his shoulders is. To him, it’s not just about the drugs anymore. It feels like a stain to their reputation, and Hoseok tends to be a bit of a perfectionist. More to that, the stain on his own ego irritates him to no extent. It’s unprofessional, he knows that, and he’s trying to not let it get in the way as Taehyung suggested, but fuck…

 

She really gets on his nerves. 

 

He’s trying to get her out of the situation as soon as possible so they can have more capacity to focus on getting to the ends of the whole thing, but she’s making it way harder than he thought she would. They have Jeongsu in their pockets. He has been for a long time, but as Seokjin said, it’d be too suspicious for him to fire her now. 

 

Jina holds the starting key to his flooding disaster, and he already decided that he’s getting it one way or another.

 

“Do you like it, hyung?”

 

Hoseok frowns at Jeongguk. “Huh?”

 

“Do you like cherries?”

 

Seokjin hums out a chuckle and looks away. Probably to laugh some more.

 

“You like strawberries,” Taehyung states, pushing back a snicker. “At least she didn’t get something you don’t like.”

 

“She is pretty, though,” Jeongguk says. 

 

“What a waste,” Seokjin sighs. He puts a mockingly-apologetic expression on his face and turns to Hoseok again. “Try not to develop a crush, mh?”

 

“Are you guys done?”

 

“She does look kinda familiar like you said, hyung,” Jeongguk says, his tone less teasing. Hoseok looks at him. “I’m sure I never saw her anywhere before, though. Not for long enough that I’d remember her features, at least.”

 

“Maybe she goes to Jimin’s?” Taehyung suggests with a shrug.

 

“I don’t know…” Hoseok tsks, catching movement coming out from behind the counter. “I’ll find out, though.”

 

Seconds later, Jina stands to his right, unloading the tray of food she’s carrying. She places Taehyung and Jin’s plates first then turns to Jeongguk, smiling a little too softly at him as she hands him his milkshake, before turning to Hoseok.

 

“There you go,” She puts down his drink, with everyone watching the movement of her hands. “Strawberry milkshake with tiny strawberries chopped inside…” She trails off, looking up from the drink to Hoseok, who stares at her with a blank expression. “And one big cherry on top.”

 

Jina looks down at the drink again, with Hoseok copying her movement. She grabs the top of the cherry delicately with her fingers, her smile fading a little by little as she brings it up to her mouth.

 

And she takes a bite, starting to move back. “Enjoy your drink, princess.”

 

“Yah…” Hoseok grabs her elbow, standing up to his feet, and yanks her closer. “What do you think you’re doing?”

 

“Hoseok-”

 

“Get your hands off me,” Jina has to tilt her head upwards a little to look him in the eye. “I don’t wanna make a scene. Let go.”

 

“It looks like you’re fucking asking for it, detective.”

 

“Hoseok let her go, for fuck’s sake.” Taehyung stands up, moving behind her. Hoseok looks at him, then to Jungkook who stood up as well.

 

“That’s right, princess,” Jina smirks, raising an eyebrow up at him. “Listen to your friends.”

 

“Call me that one more time…” Hoseok’s pitch falls lower, his voice almost unrecognizable. “And don’t blame me for what I’m gonna do to you.”

 

“Hoseok, people are watching,” Jungkook grabs him by the shoulder, trying to pry him off of her but neither of them moves. “Let go of her.”

 

“Let go of me.”

 

“Hoseok,” Seokjin calls threateningly, finally standing up from his seat too.

 

He keeps staring down at her for a few seconds, before finally pushing her back a little so she falls at Taehyung’s chest, whose hands immediately help her steady her posture.

 

“Watch your mouth when you’re around me. Don’t test my patience.”

 

“Who said I’m gonna be around you for long?” Jina shakes Taehyung’s hands off of her and he steps back to give her more space.

 

“Leave,” Hoseok grumbles lowly, stepping closer again. “Before I do something I’ll regret.”

 

It seems to be a habit they’re building because, yet again, they stare at each other without moving an inch, like they’re trying to show more dominance over each other. To the few gazes they gained on each other, it looks like they’re both killing each other in their heads, and maybe they aren’t exactly wrong.

 

But Jina doesn’t wanna give someone like him more of her time. If they stay like that, she’ll finally give in to the temptation and do something she’ll regret.

 

The detective looks him up and down, raising her chin up, then turns around and starts to walk away.

JI: fuck

JI: namjoon

JI: he’s here

JI: jung hoseok

JI: he has people with him i dont knoe wht to do

 

JOON: excuse me what

JOON: wdym hes here here where

JI: in the cafe mom literally just made me take their orders

JI: she knows who he is too pls i’m fucked

JI: idk what is he trying to do

 

JOON: why are u anxious he’s an ass he can be tamed

JI: moms’ here joon

JI: he knows stuff. knows bout my dad.

JI: and

JI: and him

JI: how does he know

JOON: im omw

She tried not to show it. 

 

The moment she disappeared from his sight again, she lets out a shaky breath, her eyes immediately looking for her mother among the workers inside. When their eyes meet, a look of concern engulfes Daeun’s wrinkling face.

 

“Jina,” The softness in her voice makes her visibly less tense. Daeun walks towards her. “What’s wrong, baby?”

 

Jina shakes her head as a reply, shaking away the look of anxiety on her face along with it. She regains her posture again, smiling at her mother.

 

“Nothing, don’t worry,” Jina tells her, thankful that her voice didn’t tremble. “It’s just… work.”

 

“You still don’t wanna tell me what happened?”

 

I really fucking can’t.

 

“It’s no big deal,” Jina reassures her, grabbing one of her hands gently. “Namjoon’s on his way. Can you get him his food?”

 

“Did he get a penalty too?” Daeun frowns. Her tone harshens when she speaks again. “What did the pair of you do, now?”

 

“It’s just me,” Jina chuckles, raising her arms up in mock defeat. “He’s on his way to work. He’s just passing by.” She feels her phone vibrate and she immediately grabs it out of her pocket. “He’s here. I’ll go get him.”

 

Her grip on her phone is a little too hard as she turns around, that her knuckles turn white. Her mother watches as she stops  at the door that leads outside.

 

 Jina looks down for a couple of moments, takes a deep breath, before pushing the door open.

 

Daeun follows her daughter outside and stops behind the counter, beside the person behind the cashier. She watches her back as she walks towards the exit, and she doesn’t miss the way she holds eye contact with Hoseok on the way out.

 

She knows something’s off, a penalty ain’t some joke. But Daeun also knows that her daughter won’t be telling her anything, not until it’s done.

 

Namjoon has his car parked in front of the entrance. When he sees Jina pushing the glass door open, he steps out and walks around the car, watching his tense-shouldered friend make her way towards him.

 

“Don’t react.” Is the first thing Jina says. “They’re sitting by the glass.”

 

Namjoon throws a brief look, spotting the group of four immediately. “What happened?”

 

“A lot,” Jina’s voice shook slightly, her hands rubbing together at the sudden cold breeze that hit her. “I told you he seemed fishy.”

 

“I didn’t say I didn't believe you,” Namjoon replies. He puts his hands on her biceps and starts to move them up and down in a comforting manner, trying to help to initiate a little heat in her obviously cold figure. “I just said it won’t be easy to take him down.”

 

“He knows,” Jina says, looking up at him. “He did a background check on me in less than twenty-four hours. He literally came here to tell me to fuck off.”

 

“I think you should.”

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“For now,” Namjoon corrects. “Jina, if he did a background check on you then he probably knows how good you are. You’re a threat to him too. That’s why he’s moving first.”

 

“He dug in deep, though,” Jina sighs. She shakes her head a little. “About dad, yeah, people might know since it’s a bit over the surface…” She trails off, letting out a puff of smoke with the breath she let out “But not him .”

 

“He keeps looking at us,” Namjoon states, still looking down at her. They stay quiet for a few seconds, another defeated sigh coming from Jina. “I think it’s good that we have the advantage of him being threatened by you.” He holds her gaze. “You just gotta calm down. We’ll think it through. Hopefully nothing happens.”

 

Jina steps away from him and turns around, starting to walk to the door again. “I was so damn close to punching him in the face.”

 

“I bet you did something else, though,” Namjoon pushes the door open, letting her pass first before feeling the warmth of the air inside the cafe himself. She doesn’t reply to that, but judging by the tenseness that hung tightly in the air, he already knows that he was right.

 

Namjoon throws a quick peek towards the table, then looks back forwards at Jina who already reached the counter. She grabs the takeaway bag that her mom hands her, and he’s about to walk again, but he stops in his track.  

 

His eyebrows furrow slightly, and his head slowly moves to the right so he can look back at the group of four again.

 

Hoseok notices he’s looking and starts to state back until he realizes that he isn’t looking at him, but the person sitting opposite to him.

 

Namjoon blinks, watching the back of Taehyung’s head as he conversates with Jungkook, and a puzzled expression takes over his face.

 

“Namjoon?”

 

Upon hearing the name called, Hoseok sees Taehyung’s shoulders tense up.

 

Namjoon snaps his head back to the counter, staying where he is for a couple of seconds before he manages to break out of his trance and starts to walk to her again. He opens his mouth to talk, a confused scowl on his face, but the words never meet the air when Daeun speaks instead.

 

“Oh, look at you. Handsome even this early in the morning.”

 

Taehyung snaps his head back, looking at where Namjoon was standing just a few seconds ago, and Hoseok can’t help the feeling that twists in his stomach.

 

“Good morning,” Namjoon greets with a little bow, settling beside Jina. “I hope she isn’t causing much trouble.”

 

“Ha ha.”

 

“Honey, she’s been causing trouble since I gave birth to her. Nothing’s new.” Daeun chuckles, handing Namjoon a disposable coffee cup. “Almost forgot how much a pain in the ass she is-”

 

“I’m literally right here,” Jina gestures to herself with one hand, leaning back on the counter as she hands him his food with the other.

 

More like... she shoved the bag into his chest.

 

On the other side of the room, Hoseok still has his gaze on Taehyung, who starts to look back forwards again. He doesn’t meet his eyes, his gaze settling on Jeongguk once more, who tilts his head at the expression on his friend’s face. Taehyung’s hands let go of the fork and knife he was previously holding.

 

“What’s wrong?” Hoseok voices out before he could think twice, gaining Taehyung’s attention immediately. 

 

But he doesn’t answer right away. He looks back again, and Hoseok hears him let out a sigh, the sound mingled with the soft sound of slight disappointment, yet it almost sounded like he was...relieved.

 

“It’s nothing, really,” Taehyung starts, feeling the three pairs of eyes around him like a heavyweight on his chest. “I just knew someone that had the same name. That’s all” He shrugs, picking up his fork and knife again, returning his attention to his food.

 

Jeongguk frowns. “What name?”

 

“Never mind.”

 

Hoseok looks up at where Jina and her...friend are standing, seeing them clearly from his own position. Their table turns quiet again, except for Jin’s long, worn-out sigh.

 

Jungkook changes the subject quickly in a succeeding attempt of breaking the tension that Taehyung unintentionally initiated. They start to reply back and forth, with Seokjin joining shortly, but Hoseok’s head was elsewhere.

 

He looks at the trio that stands by the counter, discreet but not in an awkward way. They seemed to be eased in a normal conversation, with Jina’s uncomfortable giggles raising over the sound of the crowded cafe every once in a while. Her shoulders still look undoubtedly tense, and Hoseok could think of a few reasons why, but he still can’t really put a hand on how he felt about it. 

 

It was mostly anger, yet when it fades, he finds himself...confused.

 

In the span of 24 hours, Park Jina managed to make him feel insufferable anger. He’s not used to people talking back at him or looking down on him, so when he realized how she’d managed to do both things constantly every time they met in that short period of time, he couldn’t help but feel the urge to show the detective her place.

 

But threatening her with her mother, now that he thinks about it, wasn’t the nicest thing to do. Especially since that specific topic was sensitive to him personally. 

 

He isn’t the nice type. Haven't been in some time, and won’t be for some more, but from Jina’s perspective, she’s still doing her job after all.

 

He’d read the file Taehyung had sent him that morning, and saying that she made a name for herself would be an understatement. The more he thinks about it, the more he realizes how their growth is similar, even a little bit.

 

Difference is that she decided to fight it, and he went on with it.

 

His father wasn’t like Jina’s father, but at least he understood how growing up surrounded by filth feels like.

 

She has self-earned confidence, he’d give her that. So far, he hadn’t seen her walk with her head down once. She carried pride in her strides, her smaller body devouring it whole.

 

But Hoseok still isn’t exactly used to being talked back at by someone he apparently loathes.

 

He snaps out of his thoughts when… Namjoon starts bidding Jina’s mother farewell, bowing politely as she smiles widely at him. Jina starts to walk him outside and, once again, their eyes met. He’s reminded of his rage when he sees the way she looks at him.

 

“We need to go.” Hoseok snaps out of his seat the moment the bell on the door chimed, announcing their exit. He reaches for his wallet, and his gaze meets Seokjin’s as he throws cash on the table, his breathing a little harder than usual. “I’ll wait in the car.”

 

Hoseok shoves his fisted hands into the pocket of his dark coat, taking long, unhurried strides to the glass door that was starting to be pushed open again by a pair of hands he somewhat still remembers.

 

The same hands that were wrapped prettily around a dark pistol the night before.

 

With the door already opened as Jina walks through, Hoseok makes no effort whatsoever as he passes by her, not even to step aside a little so she wouldn't be nudged by his shoulder harshly as they pass through the door simultaneously.

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

Jina wouldn’t consider herself a very social person. Yes, she has a few friends here and there, and enjoys the company of her colleagues, but other than that, she’s mostly alone. It was a miracle that she put her trust in Namjoon back then.

 

She wasn’t really given the capacity to make friends as she grew up. Just like now, she did have friends, but she was scared. She had nothing to show off like all the other pretty girls did, nothing to really conversate about. She usually used them as a distraction from what awaits her at home. 

 

When high school came along, it got worse for her. Her brother's already left and dropped out of the school they went to together long before she started high school and people started asking about him. Where did he go? Why did he leave in senior year? What university does he go to?

 

He was popular. Was a good student.

 

And a good brother. He was a good man.

 

With every day that passes, she feels more unsafe. She didn’t want people to find what hell she goes back to every day, so she didn’t allow herself to truly get close to anyone. Even lost her first boyfriend because she got too scared of him to find out the truth. It hurt her pride, in a way. Because to everyone in school, Jina wore her pride on her sleeve. Walked with her head held high, and when the quirky ones tried to bully her back then, she’d stand up for herself way before her brother even reached them to protect her.

 

She didn’t want that image to be distorted in front of the other kids in her class. She didn’t want them to know that she was her father’s punching bag.

CHUNGHA: yo

CHUNGHA: get dressed im taking u out

JI: i think you misspelled ‘good evening’

C: suck my dick <3

C: haven’t seen u in a while don’t be an ass

C: shit is bad at work idk when i’ll be free soon and i miss you:(

J: i’m sorry:( work is bad for me too :(

J: I actually got a penalty I’m staying home for a while lol

C: you got a what now?

C: tf did u do

J: lets not talk bout that i hate it here

J: i’m sorry i haven’t been in contact lately :(

C: yk how i can forgive u

C: let me take u out and get wasted

C: and let’s not go home tonight :D looks like someone needs to get laid

J: yeah u lol i’m not in the mood

C: fuck off i’m picking u up at 7

C: dress cute or i’ll make u dress cute

J: no <3

C: wasn’t asking <3

Jina locks her phone with a heavy sigh, shoving it absently in the back pocket of her jeans.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to see Chungha, which she really did, except she felt bad that she’ll be going with a frown on her face.

Fire still licks at her skin every time she thinks about the day Hoseok and his minions showed up in her mom’s cafe. How sweet he acted in front of her, and how manipulated her mom was right in front of her eyes. 

She kept on going with her mom the past few days, just to make sure that everything was okay. She tried to stay home but no matter how much she tried to reassure herself, anxiety ate her fragile brain away.

But maybe Hoseok isn’t going to do anything else. Maybe that was just a warning because if he wanted to do something else, he definitely would’ve already. Maybe she should go out with Chungha tonight.

She only hoped that the alcohol would be enough to wash the wrinkling scowl on her face away.

Chungha’s a fun person, always buzzing with energy left and right, but Jina knows she would ditch all of this to figure out what was the reason behind her scowl. The thought of going out in a state like hers would only drain her of energy more, and she’s afraid it would drain Chungha’s energy along the way too.

It hasn’t been exactly long since they met, only a couple of years. Their friendship was developed so abruptly, that none of them even saw it coming. Before Jina even knew it, Chungha became a usual, daily element in her life.

Back then, she was assigned to a solo case. It was her first time dealing with sex-trafficking.

Somehow, Chungha happened to be among the people on a ship that was about to be transported to international seas illegally. To this day, Jina doesn’t know how she ended up there, and sometimes, she thinks she doesn’t even want to know. What she did know, was a single, shaky sentence that Chungha kept repeating like a broken record.

“Something went wrong.”

It wasn’t the most fucked up thing that Jina experienced, but it was amidst the top.

There were all kinds of people on that ship. Men, women, even underaged teenagers, they were all kept in cages, crumbled together in such a tight, unbreathable, and rusty area and Jina shivers every time she starts remembering how they looked. Their faces were so dehydrated and dirty that she could barely make out any features, but it was the looks of despair and misery she saw that still haunts her to this day.

While the rest of her team were working on freeing more people, Jina kept on digging further, and as much as she hated to admit it, she was horrified by what more she could find.

She was about to round a corner before she heard a feminine whimper, followed by a masculine groan of pain, then a harsh thud, like something was thrown on the floor.

“If you don’t shut the fuck up right now…”

Jina held the gun close to her chest, resting the back of her head to the wall behind her.

“You’re gonna pay for this, you little shit—” 

The woman talking sharply cut herself off with a pained yelp that made Jina hold her breath.

“I’m getting paid for this, you whore,” The man present had said, his voice low with a grumble. “You’re from the highboard. Do you know how expensive does this even sounds?”

“You… you’ll be fuh… fucking dead before you know it.”

“You need to find something more entertaining to do with that pretty mouth of yours, kitten.”

“Hands behind your head!” 

The moment Jina rounded the corner, finding herself closer to the man than she thought she would be, she pointed her gun right up at the back of his shaved head. From the corner of her eyes, she saw the figure on the ground flinch painfully at her sudden appearance.

She dragged her eyes there, no expectations whatsoever.

Chungha’s hands were tied in a ziplock so tight that her wrists turned into a painful crimson color. Her hair was all over her bruised face, but Jina could still make out features. She was kneeling on the dirty floor, her shirt torn from all possible places, rendering it completely useless in terms of coverage or warmth. The woman on the floor shook visibly, eyes bloodshot and hooded, even though she sounded stronger than she looked.

Like a porcelain doll, she looked like she was about to break under any more given pressure.

And Jina felt the urging need to take care of her.

After a few punches and swearwords were thrown at Jina later for ruining his paycheck, Chungha’s abuser was in handcuffs with a bullet wound to his shoulder, mumbling pitifully about his bruised ego.

Since then, there hasn’t been a week where they haven’t checked up on each other. It was comforting, Chungha’s presence in Jina’s life. 

It wasn’t so much later that Chungha started healing from the shock of the incident, returning the bright light to her soul again, and started showing Jina her true self after stages of mistrust between the pair of them that they both disclosed easily.

From pity parties to the kind of parties where they wake up in an unfamiliar place, Chungha made sure to make Jina catch up on everything she’s missed while growing up.

At certain points, though, Jina kept getting irked about how she knew Chungha was hiding something. She heard how that man was talking to her, and it sounded like she was personally targeted. Sometime’s she’d be scared, even, thinking about how she might be involved in something that would put her in an awkward position, which had her convinced that maybe she really doesn’t wanna know.

In better words, she doesn’t wanna lose Chungha.

 

The rest of the day in the cafe went by smoothly, except for Jina’s irritation that made her check the time every two minutes then complain about how slow the clock is moving. 

Around 5:40, she feels her phone buzz in her pocket. She grabs it immediately, starting to feel a little bit of excitement for the night waiting for her, but it isn’t the call she’s expecting.

Quite the opposite, actually. From an unknown number.

She already has a feeling who this might be, though.

She stares at the screen, maybe for a little too long, but she accepts the call and brings the phone to her ear, holding her breath.

“Hello—”

“Come outside.”

Jina swallows.

“Who is this?”

“You know who,” The familiar voice snaps through the static. “I’m waiting outside. We’ve got business to discuss.”

“I have nothing to discuss with you.”

“I don’t wanna make a scene again, ” Hoseok pauses. “But i can literally come and drag you out myself. But that would make us both look bad, detective, don’t you think?”

Jina stays quiet, and she hates it.

“Don’t keep me waiting.” Hoseok tells her, and before she can react, he hangs up the call.

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

Hoseok’s knee bounces up and down. He has a hand resting on the steering wheel while his other elbow rests on the window frame, his hand covering the lower part of his face as he stares blankly outside the window.

By the way he keeps looking at the watch on his left wrist every five seconds, it really damn looks like his patience is becoming thinner by the second.

It was his idea after all. He has to deal with the consequences.

However, he’s already starting to regret it. But he doesn’t have anything to do about it. He needs help. Her help, specifically. She’s the only person that knows the identity of the person that called on them a few nights ago, and Jeongsu keeps claiming that she isn’t going to let it out to him that easily. So he prepared her a little deal.

He grabs his phone. It’s been around eight minutes since he called Jina, and fuck, doesn’t he hate people that aren’t punctual.

Hoseok locks his phone again and lets his head rest back on his head rest with a long sigh. His knee starts to bounce again, and he waits. 

When five minutes turn to ten, he only grows more frustrated. He throws a glance back at the entrance of the cafe, seeing customers flowing in and out normally, nothing of distribution seems to be happening.

He sees a couple walking out together, hands tangled together and looking at each other with what must be awe. Hoseok watches as they walk down the street and past his parked car, before he feels something clicking in his head.

It’s impulsive. Not the best thing there is to do, and definitely goes against Taehyung’s whole ‘Keep her at distance.’ policy, but it’ll work. In a way, this is his only option, even if he feels like barfing because of it. It’ll work. He knows it will.

Well, hopefully.

He hates wasting time.

Hoseok swings his car door open and climbs out of it, his eyes immediately snapping to the entrance of the cafe as he pushes the door closed. 

Before he even realizes it, he’s engulfed by the warmth of the familiar cafe again, and he starts to look for a certain pair of eyes. The way he stood plastered to the ground in the middle of the area gains him a few stares. He looks to the counter, and he’s relieved to find that he attracted the gaze he wanted the most.

“Oh, you’re back again!” Daeun exclaims.

Bingo. 

Jina stands beside her with her eyes plastered on him. He couldn’t read her expression, unlike her mother’s.

Is that fear? Or worry? Or is she plainly just trying to put on an act to throw him off?

Soon enough, her whole face turns expressionless, her eyes pouring endlessly into his once again. If it wasn’t for her mother’s interruption, he would’ve almost got lost in the warm colored eyes.

And at that thought, Hoseok is confused.

“How can we help you, Jung Hoseok-ssi?”

“Please,” Hoseok looks at Daeun again, stepping closer to the counter. He lets out a chuckle. “Call me Hoseok. No need for the honorifics.”

“How can we help you, Jung Hoseok-ssi?” Jina repeats, a certian edge to her voice. Protectivly, she takes a step forwards, slightly moving in front of her mother to block her out of his sight. “I’m sure you’ve got other businesses you need to attend to.”

“Yes, actually,” He raises an eyebrow, tilting his head slightly to the side. He smiles polietly and looks back at Daeun. “I was wondering if I could borrow your daughter for a few hours.” He can feel his gaze turn gentle as he speaks, watching how the woman steps away from her daughter, curious eyes meeting his.

 He sighs and brings a hand to his nape. 

“Truth to be told, I… kind of asked Jina to have dinner with me tonight. She tried getting out of it by telling me that she couldn’t leave you early today in the cafe because you’d be mad at her. I...uh, I came to ask you for permission personally.” He takes in a deep breath. “Can i… maybe borrow her tonight?”

“What!?” They both let out simultaneously.

He pulls his lips in a thin line and looks back and forth between them.

It’s safe too say that they both are looking like Hoseok grew another head. While Jina’s eyes look like they are about to pop out of their lockets, Daeun recovers faster than she did. 

“So suddenly?” She asks, shoving her daughter’s shoulder without thought so she could get closer to Hoseok. The counter separates the three of them. “I mean…” She trails off and looks at Jina “You two only met that morning, correct?”

“Not exactly, no.”  Hoseok says. His eyes divert to Jina’s. “We’ve...met before.”

“Yeah, while I was arrest-”

“It’s a funny story, actually,” Hoseok cuts Jina off, gaining her mother’s attention successfully again. He smiles at Daeun sweetly. “I’m sure Jina would love to tell you about it later.”

“Oh,” Daeun chuckles and looks at her daughter. “I—”

“It’s just a quick dinner.” Hoseok presses, showing interest that he didn’t even know he had in him. “I’ll even drive her home early and all.”

“Mom, n—”

“Besides, I’m gonna need more reasons to come here for breakfast often. I kind of can’t get over how… delicious my milkshake was that morning.”

Daeun laughs, grabbing her daughter’s arm “It was my Jina’s doing. She has skillful hands.”

He shifts his gaze to Jina, who tries and fails to get out of her mother’s grip. “I’m sure she does.”

“Mom—”

“Well, by all means,” Daeun pushes Jina forwards and out of her grip. “Take her for as long as you want. It’s not like she has anything else to do.”

“Mom!”

“Don’t bring her home before midnight!”

“Of course!”

“What the f—”

“I’ll go get you your things from inside.” Daeun cuts her off, speaking through gritted teeth with a promising glare. She moves past her, holding her gaze while mouthing something that Hoseok couldn’t catch before she disappears through the door to the side.

The moment the door flapped closed, Hoseok is grabbed by the collar of his coat, forcefully leaning against the counter.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!”

Hosoek grabs Jina’s wrists harshly as a reflex. He immediately hardens his grip around the soft skin in his hands until she starts to slowly let go, her expression changing from fury to pain.

“Grab me like that again and you won’t live to see the morning.”

“Let go of me.” She tries to yank her hands away from him, but Hoseok doesn’t budge. 

He keeps staring in her pained eyes, lowering their hands down until they hovered above the cold surface of the counter. “Don’t test me,” Hoseok grumbles lowly. “I said I didn’t want to cause a scene, yet look at you, doing it yourself.”

“If someone lays a hand on my mother-”

“If I wanted to hurt her she would’ve been six feet under already.”

“There you go,” They hear the older woman’s voice before they could see her coming out of the door, which gave Hoseok enough time to discreetly retract his hands away from Jina’s reddening wrists, and look up at her.

Jina immediately hugs one of her wrists to her chest, grabbing it with the other hand. She keeps staring at the man in front of her before her mother shoves her bag and coat in her chest.

“Midnight,” Daeun smiles mischievously at her daughter. “Not a minute earlier, okay?”

“Don’t worry, Ma’am.” Hoseok’s fake smile was plastered on his face again, which made Jina throw him a look of sheer judgment. “I’m a man of my words.”

“I’m sure you are,” Jina’s mother replies sincerely, reaching forward to pat him twice on his bicep before backing away to allow Jina to pass in front of her so she can exit the counter. However, she doesn’t start moving until her mother push her to.

Jina puts on her coat, glaring at Hoseok as she makes her way out from behind the counter, then, she turns to her mother.

“Call me if anything happens,” She says. “If I don’t answer, call Namjoon.”

“Why wouldn’t you—“

“It was nice seeing you!” Hoseok bows. His voice doesn’t match Jina’s attetude.

Daeun gestures dismissively at them. Hoseok doesn’t trust Jina not to pull up something, so he grabs her wrist again and starts to walk out of the cafe. The detective lets out a wince once they were out in the fresh air. The skin he’s putting pressure on is still sensitive from his previous actions.

“Let me go!” Jina yanks her wrist free. She stops in her tracks halfway to the car, a hard glare on her face. “Don’t you know how to treat a fucking woman?”

Hoseok finds himself chuckling humorlessly. He looks her up and down and steps closer. “Did you really believe i was taking you out?”

“Please,” Jina scoffs and walks past him.“I’d rather die.”

He unlocks his car with a roll of his eyes. He walks to his side of it, stopping to hold her gaze over the car. “If I hear a word come out of that pretty mouth of yours until we get there, I’m quite  sure you’ll regret it. Big time.”

“At least tell me where are you taking me, for god’s sake,” Jina mumbles as she climbs in the car. “You can’t really expect me to say nothing.”

Hoseok gives her a look as he puts on his seatbelt. The engine roars to life, and Jina turns her head towards him. “That’s the point. If you keep your mouth shut and hear me out, it’ll be easier for both of us.”

She stays quiet, still staring at him as he takes off out of his parking spot. He almost starts to think that he finally shut her up, but he needs to stop jumping to conclusions.

“You can be kidnapping me for all i know—”

“Do you ever fucking listen?”

“Am I getting too much on your nerves, princess?”

After speaking, Jina sees the way Hoseok’s jaw clench. He closes his eyes for a couple of seconds, inhaling a deep breath. His knuckles soon turn white as he tightens his grip on the steering wheel, his right foot involuntary pressing more on the gas pedal.

Jina tries to cross her arms over her chest, but she whines when her sensitive wrists are exposed to more friction and she drops her hands to her lap instead.

The car turns silent for a few minutes, stern looks stamped on each of their faces. Hoseok speeds, swerving between cars to reach his destination faster, but Jina isn’t even remotely bothered.

Given the circumstances.

A couple of minutes later, Hoseok finally speaks. “I’m taking you to meet M&J Holding’s other CEO. There’s a few things that we need to discuss.”

Honestly, he was expecting another remark from the woman beside him, so, when he doesn’t get one, he spares her a look.

She’s looking downwards. One of her thumbs creases lightly over a darkening patch of skin on her other wrist. When he looks up at her he finds her hair hiding her face from his sight. Inhaling another breath, Hoseok lets it out in a heavy sigh and looks forward again. He can see their destination from distance.

It looks like it’s gonna be yet another long ass nigh, and Hoseok really isn’t looking forward to it.

Notes:

AND THERE IT IS!! looks like jina's in a bit of a pickle there lol.
ANYWAYS!! I hope you enjoyed this chapter!! i'll make sure the next update is sooner than this one :) your feedback and kudos are always appreciated :D
thank you for reading! <3

Chapter 3: tre

Summary:

“What makes you think I’d comply?”

“No one said I thought so,” Jina replies, a hint of disappointment lingering within her voice. “But if you have any human decency behind all…” She trails off briefly, gesturing with her hands to Hoseok’s body “...All of this, I’m sure you will.”

Notes:

HENLO!!! not entirely happy with this chapter but!! LES GO!! i’ll start to pick up the pace from now on so hopefully the uploading process will be quicker than this!! thank u for choosing to read this again<3 feedback and kudos are always appropriated ^♡^

No words exchanged, he climbs out of the car first and starts to walk to where the elevator was. The sound of the car door closing echoes in the empty parking lot. Halfway to the elevator, Hoseok finds himself slowing down to a halt to look back at his companion.

When she nears him, he starts to walk at a slower pace that matches hers, so they walk side to side.

Awkward silence filling the air, Hoseok calls for the elevator with one hand and grabs his phone out of his pocket with the other. He presses on Yoongi’s contact and sends him a quick text to announce their arrival.

By the time the elevator was already escalating upwards, he’s locking his phone and shoving it in the inside pocket of his coat. He looks beside him after hearing the quick typing sound, only to find Jina furiously and rapidly pressing on various letters that were displayed in front of her on the keyboard.

The screen is filled with outgoing blue bubbles, and no replies whatsoever.

“No one has to know about this.” Hoseok clears his throat and looks forward. He shoves his hands in his pockets. “I’m sure this is obvious.”

“I’m sure you have no right to look at my phone, as well.”

“I didn’t look.” Hoseok looks at her and arches an eyebrow. The elevator lets out a single ding to announce their arrival. He doesn’t want to waste more time staying inside, so he looks ahead of him and starts to walk out. “I couldn’t care less. I’m just saying.”

 

Jina takes a deep breath. She stays where she is, watching his back as he starts to get further away from her. She brings a hand up to her chest and inhales again like a huge rock was removed from over her chest.

In fact, she’s terrified. Yes, she’s always been interacting with mafias and taking down gang leaders like it’s her every Saturday night, but she has a feeling that her faithfulness to her job may or may not have got her somewhere she knows she isn't going to like.

She doesn’t trust Hoseok. Not one bit. When she had him in the interrogation room alone a few days ago, she felt like she had more power. That she was in her territory. 

But now, now she feels powerless. 

She isn’t dumb. She already got the memo that Jung Hoseok isn’t who he displays out for the public to see. She doesn’t wanna think that she’s scared to see how much strength he has under the table, but maybe the thought starts to fog her mind up.

She’s doing her job. She can’t let someone like him have the upper hand.

Jina only snaps out of her thoughts when she notices that the elevator doors are closing on her, and Hoseok’s getting even further away. She quickly tries to jump out of it, letting out a yelp when the electric doors squeeze her between them, before opening again to allow her to pass through.

Hoseok looks back at the sound and stops walking.

Jina adjusts her cream-colored coat on her shoulders, letting out a huff. Hoseok catches a pout on her lips as she walks to him, then she looks up at him. She frowns and maintains eye-contact, then Hoseok lowers his head with a hand massaging his temple as he lets her walk in front of him. They round a corner and enter the area where most of the employees on this floor have their desks.

However, Jina wasn’t ready for all the attention she suddenly had on her. She feels self-conscious. Question marks start to appear on the employee’s faces when they don't recognize her, and Jina stops walking abruptly.

Then, she feels a body collide with her own.

“For fuck’s sake…” She hears Hoseok mumble from behind her, the sound a little too close to her ear that she got goosebumps. He grabs her by the sides to help her steady herself as he does the same, before looking up at the group of wide eyes planted on the pair of them.

The room stays quiet for about five seconds, then everyone snaps out of their seats. They start bowing politely and mumbling things along the lines of…

“Hello, Sir!”

“Good evening!”

“Sir, aren’t you supposed to be home already?”

Hoseok looks down at Jina, and he finds her cheeks getting a little too flushed for her to be comfortable. When he notices how he still has his hands on each of her sides, he drops them beside him quickly like he touched lava. He looks up at the employees.

“It’s past 6 o’clock, why is everyone still here?”

“We were just finishing up, sir.”

“We didn’t want to leave any work leftover for tomorrow.”

“President Min must be waiting for you. He’s staying overtime, too.”

“Yes, he is.” Hoseok steps away from Jina, turning his body slightly to the direction of Yoongi’s office. “Finish up and leave already. Don't stay overtime again.”

He doesn’t wait to hear a response before he grabs one of Jina’s wrists to pull her with him.

Again.

“Ahh!” She yelps, immediately yanking her wrist out of his grasp then falls in steps with him instead of letting him drag her behind him. She pulls it to her chest.“Stop touching me!”

“Whoever sees you now would never think you’re the same person that looked oh so powerful a few days ago in the station.”

“Oh, I’m the same person, alright.”

“Didn’t know you blush so easily,” Hoseok teases, arching an eyebrow as he finally puts a hand on the cold, silver handle of Yoongi’s matte black door, giving it a little push before she could react.

She wanted to reply, but the luxury of the room in front of her pretty much shut her up.

From what she could see, the color palette is grey/white/black. Around a dozen footsteps away, there is a mahogany desk, a couple of dark armchairs in front of it on each side, then a grayish L shaped sofa a little further away from them with a glass coffee table in front of it. There’s a floor to ceiling window behind the desk, displaying the whole city from above. 

Hoseok enters and holds the door open for Jina, who tries to look as unimpressed as possible.

There’s barely any light in the room, except the light that came from the city below, and the dim light that came from the light spots on the ceiling edges all around the room.

She lets her arms fall to her sides as she steps inside. The detective clears her throat, trying to discreetly take a look around.

The room stretched to the left, with a meeting table two levels down from the normal level. 

To her right, against the wall and a few steps away from the door, a black counter stands. It has four drawers and an unbelievable amount of liquor on top of it. 

And to her surprise, there was a person standing there.

“Jesus Christ,” She jumps, her eyes widening at the sudden appearance of the person in front of her. She halts and collides with a solid from behind her once again. 

Hoseok’s hands stretch out to steady her one more time as a reflex, but this time, she’s quicker to pull away from him.

“Took you long enough.” 

The person picks up a glass of alcohol from the counter and slowly makes his way over to where Jina and Hoseok stood. His gaze drops from Hoseok to Jina, and the detective feels a shiver trail down her spine.

Fuck. She really had no leverage here.

“Min Yoongi,” he says and stretches a hand out to shake Jina’s. It takes her a couple of seconds to process what she’s supposed to do, but she eventually puts her hand in his to give it a firm, formal shake. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Jina frowns a little at the smile he offers her. He looks less threatening with a smile on his face. 

“It’s okay.”

He’s dressed in black from head to toe. His midnight hair is parted in the middle and he has dark eyes, but his features aren’t as sharp when he smiles. 

“You’re supposed to introduce yourself too, you know?” Hoseok steps away from behind her, going down a couple of steps to throw himself on the sofa with a sigh.

“Oh!” Jina’s eyes snap from Hoseok to Yoongi, who stands still in front of her.  “Oh…” She lets out again, another realization hitting her. “Park Jina. But it’s not like you didn’t know that already.”

“See my point?” Hoseok speaks, not even facing the pair of them as he stares out of the window.

Jina knew he wasn’t talking to her.

Yoongi stretches out the hand that held the liquor glass, offering her a drink. She looks down at it for a couple of seconds, then back up at Yoongi for a couple more before she starts talking.

“Seriously?” She is, yet again, barely thinking about whatever’s going out of her mouth. “You’re expecting me to seriously accept a drink from a possible criminal that I just met three minutes ago? You can poison me for all I know.”

Hoseok lets out a loud groan.

“Fair,” Yoongi shrugs, seeming to be convinced. He brings the glass to his own lips, taking a sip of the drink himself. “I’ll keep that in mind for next time.” He says that with a deep chuckle and starts to casually walk away, going down the two stairs to go to where Hoseok is seated.

When he reaches the edge of the sofa and notices that Jina wasn’t following him, he turns around. “Please,” he gestures with his hands to the sofa, and stands still, waiting for her to oblige.

Jina keeps looking at Yoongi, who takes another sip of his drink, then down at the back of Hoseok’s head. He runs a hand in his hair, and Jina frowns a little. She stays where she is for a couple more seconds until she finally forces herself to move forwards.

She needs this night over with.

She goes to the side further away from the pair of them and sits down, marking the way Yoongi waited for her to sit down first before he does. She swallows involuntarily, and it’s safe to say that she’s a bit intimidated by the atmosphere.

Just a tiny bit.

“Why am I here, exactly?” She asks, putting her hands on her thighs.

“Well,” Yoongi starts, putting the remaining of his drink on the coffee table while Hoseok straightens up. Jina finds herself holding her breath. “What happened a few nights ago was… inconvenient, to say the least.” Pause. “I’m pretty sure this is probably the last thing someone like you would want to be involved in, but after what happened, we knew that someone is most likely betraying us. Private information like this isn’t really known-“

“Information about...drugs? Am I right?”

After speaking, Jina contemplates whether she regrets it or not. Yes, a couple of dangerously threatening men were pinning her down with a single look, but she’s trying to prove a point to herself more than anyone.

“Whoever called, they were delivering a false complaint,” Yoongi says, all emotion washing away from his face. The nice smile is a goner. “ I’m sure something like this is kinda illegal, isn’t it?”

“I don’t think it was, though.”

“Do you have proof?” Hoseok jumps in the conversation, leaning forward in his seat. “Except for the fact that you were there because we all know no one’s believing that.”

Jina looks at him, slowly processing what he was saying. The words leisurely sink down in her busy brain, and she doesn’t like the helplessness she feels.

She already knew that, but hearing it from another person made it sink in.

Hoseok nods and leans back again.“That’s what I thought.”

“Therefore, it was a false complaint,” Yoongi goes on. “You were going to have to look into whoever called it in anyways, correct?”

If I don't find anything on you, yes.

“Yes.” 

“We want to help with that.” Yoongi straightens up, supporting himself with his fists on his knees as he stands up from his seat. He walks around the sofa and towards the liquor cabinet again. “The person won’t be easy to find, considering they had the guts to do something as bold as this, so we thought maybe we’d help you find them.”

“You mean…” Jina mumbles, trailing off. Her eyes follow Yoongi’s movement, and she watches as he pours two more glasses. She feels Hoseok’s gaze on her as she speaks. “You want me to help you find them.”

“So you are smart after all.” Hoseok smirks teasingly, making her give him a blank look.

“We think that person is working for someone that’s brave enough to take such a step,” Yoongi turns back around, two glasses in his hands as he starts to make his way back down the stairs. “It’s probably a rookie gang trying to make a name for themselves.”

“Or an old one that’s just trying to strengthen their name,” Hoseok adds. He accepts the drink Yoongi offers him, then both of them look at Jina. “You help us find who they are, We help you take down the whole gang. It’s a win-win situation.”

Yoongi walks towards her calmly as Hoseok finishes his sentence. 

Once again, he stretches a hand out, another liquor glass tilted towards her.

However, if she accepts this one, she knows that it has a whole other meaning other than merely accepting a normal drink. So she decides to take her time with this one.  She looks up at Yoongi, who purses his lips and stares back at her.

The way they put it, it really is a win-win situation, assuming the person that made the call really was involved in a gang like they said. It’s true, she has to file a false complaint report against the person that made the call once she goes back to work as long as she couldn’t find anything on Hoseok.

And honestly, it doesn’t look like she’s going to find anything anytime soon. Not soon enough for her to find proof anyway.

She looks at Hoseok, who has his eyebrow arched, his posture visibly tense. He waits for her next move.

 It looks like it could either relax him or make him just put a bullet in her head right there.

And she kind of likes her head.

Maybe even after all of this is done, she would’ve managed to find something to pin on them.

“You’re gonna kill me if i refuse, right?”

“I’m sure you can answer this question yourself,” Hoseok replies.

It’s gonna be fine. It’s an easy task.

But this isn’t right. She shouldn’t even be here.

If she refuses, she probably won’t have enough time to even walk out of the room. And she doesn’t like the idea of her mother being alone

Impulsive, Jina grabs the drink from Yoongi’s hand. 

“What am I supposed to do?”

She hears Hoseok’s sigh of relief the same time Yoongi gives her a pleased smile. Jina puts the cold glass to her lips and hopes for the best as she takes a sip.

“You just have to get their name and private information,” Hoseok tells her, seeming to physically relax. “We can track whoever it is down and-“

“And what exactly are you planning to do to them?”

“Well, this is sort of confidential,” Yoongi replies instead, taking his seat again as he grabs his own glass. He leans his back on the back of the sofa, throwing a leg over the other. “You just have to give us their information, then receive the other information after we’re done with them.”

“It's not that easy, actually,” Jina states. She looks back and forth between the two men in front of her. “I need an actual process that I can put in my report after all of this is done to give to my boss-“

“You don’t have to worry about Jeongsu.”

Jina stays quiet for a total of five seconds, looking blankly at Hoseok.

Then it clicks.

“Oh.”

“We’ll see about this some other time, anyways,” Yoongi tells her. “For the meantime,” He pauses, searching her eyes for the answers to his unspoken questions. “Will you be able to help us?”

“Who are you?”

“Isn’t this a little too obvious for us to answer, Detective?” Hoseok asks, tilting his head.

She tries to breathe.“What makes you think I won't come after you?”

“I’m sure you already have an idea of what might happen if you try to cross us,” Yoongi answers, and it makes Jina wonder how he speaks out a sentence so threatening with a voice as calm as a still ocean. “You’ll only find dust if you try digging anything up.”

The detective feels a shiver run down her spine at the sudden atmosphere change. Her hands tighten around the glass she has in them, to the point that her knuckles turn white. She looks away and raises her glass to her lips, hoping no one would notice the slight shake of her hand.

It’s a risk. A fucking big risk, but she has a feeling that she’s knee-deep already.

Jina stays silent for a while, biting down on her lower lip in distress. Jina knows she’s bold and fearless, but she has one weakness. And they already made it clear that they can make her whole world tumble down in a blink of an eye.

“My mother stays out of this,” Jina blurs out quickly, the pair in front of her barely even catching what she said. Her eyes shift between them slowly. “If there’s a problem, it's solved with me. She stays out of it.” She demands. Her voice comes out stronger than how she felt. “And when necessary, she’s provided with 24/7 protection. I won't settle for anything else.”

Yoongi smiles. “I don’t think there’s a problem with that at all.” He stands up, and Jina takes it as a sign to get up too. “When do you go back to work?”

The fact that they know that she’s off-duty irritates her. 

“Next Saturday.” She replies flatly.

Yoongi stretches out a hand for her to shake again, sealing the deal professionally. “Hoseok will be with you on this, so if you need anything-“

And Hoseok is groaning again. “Oh, for the love of fuck.”

 

 

 

 

It’s dumb.

 

It’s so fucking dumb and reckless, and Jina knows that well.

 

She’s seen first hand how it is. She’s seen how many people, all around, fall to their ruins after their little secrets are revealed to the public. It’s been like that since she became a detective, and she never imagined she’d ever be put in a situation like this. She never thought she would have to have a secret of her own.

 

And it makes her feel dirty. 

 

So she tries to reassure herself. To make herself feel better, because she’s doing this for the greater good, right? Because she’s doing this to protect her loved ones, because, once again, someone has a hold on her, and she cannot, for the life of her, escape it. 

 

She just needs time. She needs to get a little closer to the not-so-small thing that Yoongi and Hoseok apparently have. Then, maybe, she can have the upper hand again.

 

They made it perfectly clear that they’ve swept the whole world clean of trails that they might have left behind. It was only logical. She remembers how squeaky clean Hoseok’s file was.

 

Her head’s messy and thoughts are fogging up her mind, and it’s so fucking overwhelming.

 

All of this happened in very little time, that she feels like she’s running out of breath trying to catch up with everything.

 

Turning Hoseok in was a piece of cake but everything that has happened since then is just bitter. Jeongsu humiliated her in front of him, and it’s still the talk of the whole unit until now. Namjoon saw, the rest of her division saw, fuck even someone from the forensics team texted her to see if she was okay after what happened. She didn’t know if people are just overdramatic, or it looked just as bad as she feels.

 

And that’s not even it.

 

She had to apologize. Had to look down like she’s ashamed of something, and god knows how much she hates situations like this.

 

Jina’s always been a clean slate. It all felt too weird.

 

She caught that Jeongsu’s working for them. That was as clear as the sun from the moment Jeongsu stormed into the interrogation room, and she doesn’t think she’d be able to look at him the same way again. Let alone interact with him when she goes back to work.

 

But now, she’s no better. She’ll have to see how long she will be able to look herself in the mirror without crumbling down in shame.

 

Jina feels absolutely exhausted in every way possible. The way she’s felt various emotions simultaneously in a very short period of time drained her already low energy.  Her brain’s overflowing and she gave up on trying to keep things in check.

 

Soon, she started to feel a migraine creeping up on her.

 

Shortly after coming to an agreement with Yoongi, Hoseok told her to go back to the car before him so he can take her home like he’d promised, rudely so, but Jina found the gesture weird nonetheless.

 

She raises both her hands, running them through her hair to rest them on the sides of her head. A whine escapes her lips when her back hits the wall of the descending elevator, and she closes her eyes. Her head falls to her chest as she massages her temples. She tries to ease the throbbing pain in her head, but the relief is only temporary.

 

Jina starts to consider leaving Hoseok to catch a bus and go back to Gwangjin alone. She doesn’t think she’ll be able to breathe well with him nearby anymore.

 

 She stomps a foot on the floor in frustration and buries her face in her hands, and she still can’t shake away the irking feeling that’s making her want to jump out of her skin.

 

The ding of the elevator rings in her ears and she lets her hands fall to her sides without looking up. She sighs and starts to walk out of the opening doors, mumbling curses under her breath, completely unaware of the body she crashed into only seconds later.

 

She hits her forehead on a solid shoulder. It makes her eyes water, and the strong cologne that makes its way up her nose doesn’t make it better. She flinches away with her hands on her forehead, letting out a grimace of pain.

 

So much for trying to ease her migraine.

 

She doesn’t look up, but she can see how the leather jacket hugged the man’s body just perfectly. She can see that his hair is bleached with a faded color still stuck in there, but she doesn’t have enough time to actually pay attention as she starts to back up.

 

He’s another one. This is a private parking lot. He must be going up to the men she just parted with.

 

“Are you—”

 

“It’s fine. It’s my fault I wasn't looking.” She nods assuringly, hands still covering her hurting head. “Sorry.”

 

She turns her back to him before he gets the chance to speak again, but she doesn’t hear him enter the elevator just yet.

 

Jina shakes her head as if it’d shake the pain away with it and walks to where she remembers the car being parked. She contemplates whether she should wait for him once more, but she remembers what he’d told her before she left them in Yoongi’s office.

 

“Don’t think about leaving. I don’t think Kang Daeun-ssi would like it if you go home alone on date night, would she?”

 

And it makes Jina hate him even more.

 

____________________

Hoseok tried dating before, once or twice, until he grew tired of trying to build something on a ground that simply doesn’t exist. He learned that in the line of work he’s in, nothing can possibly work out, not long term, so he hasn’t been very keen on the idea at all.

 

But then again, why have one person when you can have many?

 

What’s better than that? Living like a fucking king, finding a good fuck whenever he wants to with a simple gesture of his hand, never having to worry about consequences or feelings that might slip between. He knows well he’s lost those long ago.

 

He knows how sad it is. He knows exactly how lonely he is, but he can’t help but feel even lonelier lately. Watching people around him finding others that they depend on has turned into a habit of his, all while he remains solo. He doesn’t remember when did the feeling become so familiar, like it’s planting its seeds deep in his rotting brain.

 

Sometimes he thinks he’s being punished for the things he does. Like what he has already lost wasn’t more than enough. 

 

Why isn’t anyone else being punished like he is, though?

 

He came to a conclusion that he’ll spend what’s left of his life this way because even if he manages to find someone, he’s a shit load to handle. He can barely handle himself, why would he willingly throw all of this on someone else’s shoulders?

 

Still, he can’t help the feeling of utter aloneness that crawls at his skin like a monster needy for release every time he sees Yoongi and Jimin together.

 

At first, when Yoongi told him about it, he thought Jimin was going to take him away from him.

 

To Hoseok, Yoongi’s the only solid hand he’s had around him for as long as he remembers. While he has others to rely on now, the little bond that grew between him and Yoongi as they grew into the men they are today tugged hard on his chest when he thought that Yoongi might neglect him now that he has his own… person.

 

He remembers hating Jimin for a short period of time until he realized that he was only holding hatred on empty grounds, and started looking at Jimin as Park Jimin, not Yoongi’s newest boytoy. 

 

“Oh, did I ruin date night?” The corners of Hoseok’s lips pull back slightly in a small, wicked smirk. “...Again?”

 

“If you consider busting a dealer who sells fake crack in my bar a date, then yes,” Jimin replies quickly, kicking the door to Yoongi’s office closed with the back of his heel. “Took you long enough, Hyung. I think I bumped into the detective.”

 

Yoongi puts on his blazer and spares Jimin a look.“Yeah. She just left.”

 

“And?”

 

“She’s gonna help us,” Hoseok replies instead.

 

Jimin glances at him before looking back at Yoongi. He starts to make his way to where Yoongi is, his gaze going back and forth between them. “And what’s the catch?”

 

“Nothing, really.” Hoseok looks down at the watch on his wrist and he directs his body to where the pair were. “We just have to keep her mother out of it and provide her protection when needed.”

 

“Because someone decided to add another fucking possible casualty to the list for absolutely no reason,” Yoongi remarks, judgment clear in his voice with a glare in Hoseok’s way. He sits down behind his desk, and shortly, his attention is placed elsewhere. 

 

Hoseok scoffs. “It’s not like I had any other choice. That’s-- Jesus Christ. I’m still here!” Hoseok puts a hand up and looks away briefly after Jimin bent down a little too seductively to plant a kiss on Yoongi’s available lips. “Weren’t you supposed to be busting someone for something?!”

 

Yoongi doesn’t take his eyes off of the man in front of him. “And you’re supposed to take the girl home, but neither of us is doing what we’re supposed to be doing.”

 

“Well, I’m fucking about to. Keep your hands away from each other until I leave, for god’s sake.” Hoseok rants, and he watches his words fall in vain as Jimin shamelessly climbs on Yoongi’s lap. He turns his back to them with a sigh and puts a hand on the handle of the door. “Some of us are single, you know?”

 

“No one asked you to be.”

 

“Oh, kiss my ass, Min Yoongi.”

 

 

 

 

Hoseok still expected Jina to ignore what he said out of spite as he walks out of the elevator, waiting to find the parking lot empty of people. He walks, his footsteps echoing in the vast area, but she was right there.

 

Jina’s leaning against his car. All cross-armed and pissed-looking.

 

Hoseok unlocks his car, startling the woman leaning against it.“Didn’t think you’d actually wait for me.” 

 

She stays quiet for a few seconds, a deep scowl on her face before she leans off of the car. “It’s not like I have any other ride.” Each of them walk to each side of the car. She opens her door, then speaks again. “Aren’t you a man of your words ?”

 

At this rate, she’ll start to develop a habit of pushing his buttons. And she likes the sound of that.

 

Hoseok doesn’t react and climbs in the driver’s seat, making Jina give herself a little smile of victory before following him inside. She closes her door gently and grabs the seatbelt.

 

“I won’t remind you again to not test my patience, Jina-ssi.” His voice is clear of emotion. The low pitch sends shivers down Jina’s back. “We’re probably gonna have to interact for some time, so just let it pass without anyone getting hurt.”

 

“Is that a threat?”

 

“Take it however you take it,” Hoseok turns the car on after buckling his own seatbelt. “But I don’t think anyone lived to the point where they constantly disrespect me the way you do.”

 

The detective stares at his side profile while he takes off. She slowly buckles her seatbelt, hating the way she didn’t find it in her to talk back to him. She inhales a soundless breath and looks forwards, letting her hands fall to her lap where she softly turns them into loose fists. She scoots towards the door to put more distance between them when she noticed that she couldn’t breathe well again.

 

It gets worse when she looks up at the way the night sky looked. It’s cloudy, and the light coming from the moon only looked distorted disturbed on the thick clouds like that. She tries to find space between them, anywhere she could see the sky clearly as if she’d breathe properly when she finds it. 

 

Hoseok spares her a look when he notices her efforts of trying to stay away from him. With a shake of his head, he lifts his left hand off of the steering wheel and looks at the time.

 

Maybe next time he should think before he speaks.

 

“It’s only 9:30.” Hoseok lets out a sigh, looking beside him at the woman from whom he just gained attention. “We still have time before I should get you home. Do you want to go somewhere?”

 

“No. I wanna go home.”

 

Hoseok looks at her, seeing how she looks back out of the window. “Don’t you think your mom would find it weird, though?” He tilts his head to the side briefly. “I’m not one with experience, but I don’t think I’m supposed to return you home so early on a date night, right?”

 

“This isn’t a date.” Jina scoffs.

 

“To her, it is.” Hoseok insists, giving her a brief look. “I told you before, didn’t I? That no one has to know of this?”

 

He could see that Jina looks at him when he returns his eyes to the road, but she stays quiet. Like she’s processing what he just said.

 

“So…” She pauses. “We basically have to act in front of her that we’re dating?”

 

He had to process too, he’d give her that. He remains silent for a couple more seconds as the information settles in his head.

 

“In front of anyone that isn’t involved, yes.”

 

He feels like barfing just thinking about it.

 

“There’s no fucking way—”

 

“Listen,” Hoseok grumbles, cutting her off. “This isn’t my cup of tea either, okay? So, for the sake of everything you love, just fucking do as I say. I ask you of nothing more.”

 

Jina opens her mouth to reply, but a buzzing sound cuts her short as it gains both their attention successfully. Before he could stop himself, Hoseok looks at her phone the same time she does, recognizing the caller ID.

 

“Namjoon…” Hoseok reads aloud, looking back up at the road. “He’s in your division, isn’t he?”

 

Jina declines the call and looks up at Hoseok for a little longer than it is to be comfortable before she answers. “Yes.”

 

She really does take her time into thinking before speaking, doesn’t she?

 

Hoseok nods silently, deciding to leave the conversation there for the time being as he swerves into the furthest right lane, and he gradually slows down until he comes to a smooth stop. 

 

He looks to the right, out of Jina’s window, at the dark river that stretches endlessly. There are benches and food carts that lit up the area, and he could use the fresh air.

 

“We still have a couple of hours before I can start taking you home on time.” Hoseok turns the engine off and starts to unbuckle his seatbelt. He looks at the woman beside him and grabs the door handle. “I need some fresh air. Feel free to join as long as you don’t say something that makes me want to throw in the damn river.” 

 

“I can swim.”

 

“Oh my god…” He groans with a roll of his eyes and he pushes the door open, grumpily stepping out of the car. He clenches his cold hands into fists as he walks to an empty bench, the corn dog cart a few levels down catching his attention as he sits down.

 

He stretches his legs and crosses them at the ankles, fluttering his eyes closed as he feels the cool breeze meet his face. It’s silent around him, only hushed whispers and giggles coming from nearby benches. He allows himself to enjoy the peace surrounding him and inhales a deep breath, releasing some of the tension in his body along with it. 

 

It’s that awkward time of the year between autumn and winter, where it isn’t so cold, yet the air is cool enough to turn your cheeks a bright shade of red. 

 

Hoseok has always liked the cold. Nothing can hurt him as long as he’s cold.

 

There are multiple people walking or sitting around him, some alone, some not. He finds it fascinating how those people have lives, full lives and responsibilities, and thoughts, and how little he might look among all of them. Everyone must have a thing or two on their minds.

 

Hoseok kinda feels like he is the most troubled among them, though.

 

And the main reason for his current troubles is getting out of the car.

 

When he hears the sound of the door opening, he lets out an audible sigh and lets his head fall to his chest. He puts both his hands on the back of his neck, giving himself a quick soothing massage to build up enough energy to get him through the next couple of hours. 

 

The sound of her steps rises in volume until he sees her standing on the other end of the bench he sat on, then she sits down, hands shoved into her pockets. 

 

Hoseok looks beside him. Her hair is covering her face again, dark honey-colored strands falling loosely over her shoulders as she looks ahead of her. She takes one hand out and pushes it behind her ear, exposing her side profile just enough for Hoseok to inspect. 

 

He can see how flushed her cheeks are from where he is.

 

She lets out a breath, and it looks like it came out shakier than she wanted it to be because she frowns at herself. She puts her hand back in her pocket and Hoseok can’t help but focus on the little cloud of smoke that escapes her bow-shaped lips. 

 

Soon enough, she starts to fidget, and Hoseok knows she can feel his gaze on her. Her frown deepens, and she turns her head so she can look back at him.

 

“Let’s try to…” Hoseok starts, pausing to inhale a deep breath. “At least make this a little less awkward than it is.”

 

“What makes you think I’d wanna put effort like this with someone like you?” Jina replies, except her tone isn’t as harsh as it was before. It’s quiet. Empty.

 

“Look, Jina—”

 

“Are we on a first-name basis, now?”

 

“Look,” Hoseok snaps with a sharp gesture of his hand towards her. “I made it clear that I’m not enjoying this either—”

 

“You literally came to my mother’s workplace and threatened me with her.” It’s Jina’s turn to cut him off. She keeps her tone calm as she directs her body toward him. “How exactly do you want me to treat you?”

 

Hoseok hesitates, blinking. The way her voice cut through the air yet remained delicate to his ear, it all makes him wanna keep staring at her for a little longer.

 

“I’d put you in chains all over again, Jung Hoseok. I really fucking would, but it will do me more harm than good. My boss is your fucking puppet and I have absolutely nothing to do about it.” 

 

He wants to listen to what more she has to say.

 

“I’m not scared.” They both know it’s a lie . “Nor intimidated. I’ve been through enough shit to dive in this face first as long as I get what I want at the end.” She says, her eyes blinking softly before she meets his eyes again. “But not my mother.”

 

“You know you’re laying out your vulnerabilities for me to see, right?”

 

“You know about my dad…” Jina faces the river again. “I’m pretty sure you also know she’s the only thing I have in the world.” She spares him a look with a slow nod, before resuming. “I’m a realistic person. I’m not a child or a rookie to be oblivious of the fact that whatever’s gonna happen can bring me more shit than necessary, and I don’t trust you one bit not to hurt her if anything goes south. So, yes. I know what I’m doing.” Her gaze is intense. “But if you really are a man of your words, Jung Hoseok, nothing comes near my mother. No matter what.”

 

He arches an eyebrow. “What makes you think I’d comply?”

 

“No one said I thought so,” Jina replies, a hint of disappointment lingering within her voice. “But if you have any human decency behind all…” She trails off briefly, gesturing with her hands to Hoseok’s body “all of this, I’m sure you will.”

 

They keep looking at each other for a few more seconds, then Jina looks away and starts to get up.

 

“Where are you going?”

 

“I’m getting something to eat.” She walks towards the corn dog cart he’s been eyeing since they arrived. “What would my mom think when I tell her my date didn’t feed me all day? Tsk.”

 

“Yah…”

 

 

Her battery was on 0.5% by the time Jung Hoseok was pulling up in front of her house. She doesn’t remember ever telling him the address.

 

The ride home was quiet and uncomfortable. They stayed by the river for more time after they got something to eat, but not a single word has been uttered between them since then. They stayed until the air around them felt too thick, and the silence allowed the voices inside Jina’s head to wander and yell.

 

When she’d gaze at Hoseok in the car, she’d have a feeling that it was the same case for him too.

 

His face remained perfectly neutral the whole time, but the way she’d feel the engine roar when he sped up out of nowhere made her try to think of what might be going on inside his head too.

 

“I’ll stay in contact,” Hoseok starts and looks at the house he’s parked in front of briefly. “If you get any updates, I’m sure you know what to do.”

 

Jina nods. The lack of oxygen in her lungs is making her feel a little light-headed. She unbuckles her seatbelt and doesn’t look up at him before she tiredly pushes the door open, but her movement is cut short when she feels a hand pulling her back by her bicep.

 

She looks back at Hoseok, expecting his gentle grip to harshen immediately.

 

But it never did.

 

“I am a man of my words,” Hoseok’s voice is reassuring, a tone Jina is hearing for the first time. They look at each other and the air buzzes around them again. The detective finds herself looking for clues in his eyes. Signs, anything that will tell her that he’s mocking her like he always has, and Hoseok notices that. He can feel his eyes softening a little, but Jina can’t see that well in the dark. “Nothing’s gonna happen to your mother.”

 

She can breathe a little easier now.

 

Jina nods once more, feeling his fingers loosening until he lets go of her. “Thanks for the ride.”

Hoseok watches closely as she gets out of the car and pushes the door closed, and he takes notice of how she tries not to let her feet drag on the pavement as she approaches the blue gates of her house. She brings out her keys and the gate opens with a click, then Hoseok lets his head fall to his chest with a sigh.

 

His hands fall to his lap loosely. His head is throbbing.

 

Irritation is eating away at his brain. Why does this have to be so fucking hard? Why did he choose to be this lenient with her when he can still get what he wants in a million other ways? He opened a door that he wasn’t supposed to open, he realizes, but he’s yet to figure out if it’s too late to close it and return to his usual ways or not.

 

He starts the car again. He’s heard the beeps of the front door opening a couple of minutes ago, and maybe he feels bad for the detective that must be being interrogated by her mother as he moves away from the house.

 

The person coming in front of him had their headlights on, Hoseok has to squint his eyes a little to see through them. He turns the wheel to the left a little to make enough space for the other car to pass by his. He gets ready to give the driver a piece of his mind and pulls down his window.

 

The car passes by him, and Hoseok finds the driver already looking right at him.

 

It’s brief and would’ve been unnoticeable if Hoseok wasn’t looking, but he doesn’t like the look that Kim Namjoon gives him as they pass by each other.

 

“What happened? Where did he take you? Did he feed you something good?”

 

“Mom…”

 

“Did you have fun? Ah! Of course, you did! Have you seen him? God! He even drove you home and everything!”

 

“Mo—“

 

“When’s the next date? Can you invite him over next time? I’ll cook something delicious!”

 

“Mom!” Jina finally raises her voice, a look of disbelief plastered on her face. “At least let me take my shoes off, will you?”

 

“Yeah, yeah go ahead,” Daeun backs away and clasps a hand to her chest excitedly. Jina tsks and pushes her shoes off to slip into her slippers by the doorway. “Oh, I always knew you were this family’s lucky charm!”

 

“Mom…” Jina sighs, taking off her cross bag. “I seriously can’t see straight. Can’t we talk about this tomorrow?”

 

“Oh, did you drink?” Daeun comes closer again, and Jina throws her head back with a loud whine. Daeun grins at her. “Was it expensive?”

 

“That’s it,” Jina moves past her with a shake of her head. “I’m going to bed. I can’t do this right now.”

 

“Come on!” Daeun whines. “Why are you being so grumpy? Didn’t you have fun?”

 

She opens her mouth to tell her that, in fact, she would have rathered to be anywhere else, but Hoseok’s words ring loudly in her head again.

 

She sighs. “I did, mom. I did. I just need to sleep. I’ll tell you everything when we wake up, okay? I promise—“

 

Before she can finish her sentence, the bell buzzes. Someone’s outside.

 

Daeun’s grin returns. “Oh! Must be him!”

 

She moves quickly to the built-in monitor by the door to see who’s by the gates. She pushes a button and the screen lights up in front of her, but Jina sees her smile fall a little.

 

She takes a step forward. Her heart clenches. “Who is it?”

 

Daeun raises her hand again to press another button. She buzzes whoever’s outside in. “Come in, Namjoon-ah.”

 

Jina doesn’t know if this is better or worse.

 

She lets out another whine and stomps away to the hallway. “Let him in. I’m gonna go change.”

 

Daeun lets out a sound of disapproval, Jina may or may not have heard her call her a brat as she closes the door to her bedroom behind her. The dim, warm light welcomes her quietly, and she’s glad her mom didn’t turn her floor lamp off accidentally.

 

That damned day just didn’t want to end, did it?

 

She could hear her mother greet Namjoon outside. They initiate a conversation, and Jina just knows that she’s the center of it as she throws her bag on the neatly-made bed. Daeun must’ve made it for her while she was away. It looked way too comfy for Jina not to think about ditching Namjoon and give in to the temptation to let dreamland engulf her.

 

She just hopes her dreams are nice to her this time.

 

Jina barely has time to jump into something more comfortable before she hears a knock on her door. 

 

“Give me a second!”

 

“You have five seconds.”

 

“I dare you.”

 

“5...4...3..”

 

 Disheveled, Jina flies the door open, tired eyes wide with disbelief. Namjoon stays quiet for a few seconds before a scowl takes over his face.

 

“What the fuck happened today—“

 

“Shhh..!”

 

 She tries to cover his mouth but he pulls away. She looks behind him to see if her mother was nearby, but she hears a noise in the kitchen. Jina grabs Namjoon by his sweater, pulls him inside and closes the door after them. She turns to look at him, and her friend gives her a weird look.

 

She sighs and puts her hands up to her temples. “Why weren’t you answering your phone earlier?”

 

“There was something I was taking care of,” Namjoon frowns, stepping closer. He puts a hand on her shoulder and pulls her closer. “Why? Did something happen? Are you hurt?”

 

“I’m fine.”

 

“Your mom said Jung Hoseok passed by again?” Namjoon says. He lets her go, but worried eyes still give her a do-over to see if something’s wrong. “I saw him outside. The hell is he doing here?”

 

“Just…” She steps away a little, putting her hands up as if to tell him to back up. “Slow down. I’ll tell you everything. Just let me fucking breath, will you?”

 

She feels as if something is straight-up sucking the energy out of her body. Her bones shake horribly from the stress that continuously spreads through her whole being at an alarming speed. A lump slowly makes its way to her throat, making it even more difficult for her to let enough oxygen in to help her calm down. 

 

Everything’s moving fast. Way too fast for her to catch up, both inside her head and outside. She tries to shake away the feeling and fails, but she’s thankful that Namjoon’s tone was slow and gentle when he spoke again.

 

“I’m sorry,” He apologizes, and Jina feels a hand at the small of her back pushing her towards the edge of her bed. “Let’s sit you down, huh? Do you want anything to drink?”

 

She shakes her head and he nods, making sure that she sits down first before Jina feels the bed dip beside her.  Jina puts her hands on her thighs and looks down for a few seconds, trying to push oxygen back into her system, and the gentle nudge she feels on her shoulder makes the process a little easier.

 

“T’ was a long day, wasn’t it?”

 

Jina pulls her head up with a humorless giggle. “The fucking longest.”

 

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

 

Jina looks at Namjoon. Her eyes hurt. She doesn’t know how long she can go until she breaks.

 

“I don’t know,” She finally says, her voice just above a whisper. “It was weird. I don’t know.”

 

“Did he pull something up?” Namjoon wraps an arm around her shoulders and brings her closer. “Is that why you kept calling?”

 

Fuck, she wants to tell him. She wants to tell him everything and just cry it out. Maybe they would find a solution, then.

 

But she can’t.

 

“I… I just panicked at first.” She nods, looking away. “He offered me a meal as an apology. That’s all.”

 

Jina can still feel Namjoon’s gaze on her. He knows that there must be more to it than what Daeun already told him.

 

“It was overwhelming,” Jina tells him, pursing her lips. She looks at him again. “I’m sorry. You must’ve come this late because you thought something was wrong.”

 

“Your texts worried me,” Namjoon says. “I tried to call when I had the chance but you never answered. I called your mom then and she told me what happened.”

 

Jina nods, letting her head fall to his shoulder.

 

They stay quiet like that for some time, and Jina tries to match her breath with his. She can tell just how many  unanswered questions are flowing in the room, but, once again, she’s thankful that Namjoon doesn’t try to force them on her now.

 

She feels a hand on her head, and Namjoon gives her a gentle pat.

 

“Do you want me to stay until you fall asleep?”

 

“Mmh.”

 

“Should I turn any more light on?”

 

She shakes her head no.

 

“Alright, let’s get you to bed,” Namjoon mummers and stands up, his hands still on her to keep holding her up. She kicks her slippers off and scoots backward on the bed, then Namjoon pulls the covers on top of her, tugging her in. “I’ll call you in the morning, yeah?”

 

Jina nods, her breaths already deepening. She can still feel his presence beside her for a few more seconds before he starts to move away. She closes her eyes.

 

“Joon.”

 

He stops walking. “Yeah?”

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

“What for?”

 

“I just am.”

 

Notes:

ooooOOOOooooOOoooOooOoo
dang i almost feel bad lmao but N E WAYS!!!
THATS IT FOR TODAY!! i hope you enjoyed this chapter :D this one is a little shorter than usual but! at least we have sumn hheh. the next one will be a little slower, but the one after is dang lOADED BRO! so mayhaps the next update will be double ;)
feedback and kudos are always appreciated! those of you who comment really make my day<3 thank u for reading!

Chapter 4: quatro

Summary:

Jina looks down at him again, a deeper frown taking over her face. “What the hell are you doing?”

Hoseok stops mid-way, frozen under her gaze. “Making sure you eat?”

“What?”

“I told you…” Hoseok resumes his action, opening the box to the mouthwatering sight and scent of glazed donuts. “Your mom said you haven’t eaten all day. Told me to make sure you eat n’ stuff.”

Notes:

guess who's late again uwu. BUT!! It's because my finals are coming up and trust me my dudes uni fucking sucks<3 I know i promised a double update but i couldn't this time, and mayhaps not the next update as well, but i'm trying my best to update regularily. The estimated time, for those of you who ask is around 10 days between each chapter, but this is only until i'm done with my finals!
Also i haven't proof read this chapter yet, and im not really satisfied with it but i'll do it soon!! don't hate me lol <3
I HOPE YOU ENJOY! AND TYSM FOR THE SUPPORT FOR THOSE OF U WHO DO<3
Feedback and kudos are always appreciated :D
NOW LES GO!

The heat claws at his skin. He feels it all around him, yet his eyes remain blind to its source.

 

Hoseok can hear the cackles of fire clearly as he runs. His legs grow tired, his arms covering his face in protection whilst the first round of gunshots rolls. Oxygen is getting harder to consume by the second, but he has no choice except to fall and roll forwards when his leg gets caught on a stray tree branch.

 

He groans out. He must’ve hit something on the way because he feels sharp pain ignite within him when he finally settles on the muddy ground he fell on. His head is spinning, and fuck doesn’t he just wanna give up and stay where he is. It would only take a minute for someone to find him and end his misery.

 

But he can’t. Not now. He has to keep running.

 

He turns on his stomach with a grimace and puts a hand underneath him for support, but he freezes on his knees soon after. It’s dark around him, only the faint light of the moon that’s hidden by the tall trees around him giving him just enough light to see his surroundings.

 

His vision is blurry and unfocused, and he lets out another groan whilst shaking his head from side to side as if to shake it away. He heaves, feeling like his trachea is on fire. He straightens up and blinks a couple of times until his vision is straight again, but his stomach drops sickeningly, then.

 

He hates how the pain in his heart became so familiar. He hates how he has to feel it over and over again.

 

She’s right there. Just as pretty as he remembers, she lays in the dirty ground of this unknown forest as if she was waiting for him to reach her all along. She is still  in the floral dress she wore so often just because Hoseok loves the flowers on them, but the warm glow he remembers she has is nowhere to be found.

 

She’s right fucking there, blue lips and wide eyes.

 

The heat disappears and Hoseok hears the world around him go quiet. He stares at her, chest clenching and hands slowly reaching for her face, but he’s so fucking scared of touching her. He doesn’t wanna feel how cold her skin is.

 

“Muh-mom?” He calls, even though he knows how useless it is. “Pl-Please...”

 

His heart hurts. It hurts and he touches her face, then it hurts even more. The only thing he can hear is the sound of his own sharp-intakes of breath and that of his hammering heart, but he can still hear her screaming at him to run faster in his head like a broken record.

 

He shouldn’t have ran faster than she did. He should’ve stayed beside her.

 

Hoseok shivers when he feels something wet touch him, soaking his knees only a second afterwards. His eyes grow wider as he looks down, and his mouth falls in a silent yell.

 

Blood seeps out of an open gash on her side mercilessly, and he feels her skin go even colder.

 

“No, no, no…” He lets out, letting go of her face to place his hands on her wound. He frantically looks back and forth between her frozen expression and his now bloody hands whilst he tries to push the flowing blood back in. “Please! Please, I can’t...I can’t do this on my own! I can't!”

 

Hoseok pushes down on the wound with one hand and reaches for her face again with the other, painting red on her once bright features.

 

He tries. He tries to shake her, to yell in her face to wake her up but nothing works. She just lays there with her pretty dress soaked in crimson, and Hoseok has nothing to do about it.

 

“Hyung?” 

 

A broken sob escapes his lips as he lets his head fall to her chest. The heat returns around him again.

 

Only this time, he can see it.

 

“Hyung!”

 

The yellow, red, and orange flames keep rising, and he screams, tears of agony falling on his dirty cheeks. He wants to run again, but his body is still frozen. Another round of gunshots roll, this time closer than the last. He opens his mouth to scream again with an irritating ring in his ear, but everything around him fades into nothingness, leaving him alone with tormenting darkness.

 

He’s being shook. He can feel it, and he’s thankful. He wants to wake up, too.

 

But his ears are still ringing.

“Hyung!” Hoseok hears Jeongguk’s voice clearly now, and he snaps his eyes open with a sharp gasp.

 

He throws his body forwards, a hand creeping up to his heart shakily. Jeongguk keeps his hand on his shoulder and gives him a reassuring squeeze, but Hoseok barely feels it. The irritating ringing makes him tilt his head to the side with a grimace, and the frantic heartbeat he feels under the hand on his chest overwhelms him even more.

 

He gives Jeongguk a look, and he finally feels his hold when he finds wide, concerned eyes staring back at him.

 

“You okay?” Jeongguk questions breathlessly.

 

Hoseok keeps looking at him, trying to focus on reading his features instead of his hurting heart.

 

He always found it fascinating how innocent his eyes are. They’re dark and can turn so bitter that you feel yourself freeze under his gaze, but that’s not how he looks at Hoseok.

 

Jeongguk looks at him with care and comfort, and it makes Hoseok feel temporarily whole. 

 

The earring he wore dangled low and almost touched the hoodie of the dark sweatshirt he’s wearing, and Hoseok found himself focusing on that too. It’s pure silver, molded perfectly into a little sword with a little dragon wrapped around the small handle. He remembers when Seokjin gifted it to him on his birthday a couple of years ago.

 

“Do...Do you want me to do something?”

 

It takes him a couple more seconds of silence before Hoseok looks away with a shake of his head. He looks at his surroundings, his frown deepening with puzzlement until something clicks. They’re parked in a quiet neighborhood, the streetlight barely putting any effect into lightening up the area. He must’ve fallen asleep because he doesn’t remember ever reaching their destination.

 

“Are you having nightmares again?” Jeongguk drops his hand. He keeps staring at the older while he blinks, recognition falling over his previously dazed eyes. “Do you want me to drive you home? I can do this on my own—”

 

“No,” Hoseok cuts him off. “It’s nothing. I think it’s just because i fell asleep in the car.”

 

“Are you sure? You don’t look too well.”

 

He doesn’t feel well either. He can still feel the tremor in his body.

 

“I’m fine, Jeongguk.” His tone is a little snappy. He looks out of the window once more as he unbuckles his seatbelt. “What time is it?” Hoseok puts his hand on the handle and pulls it, then his door opens with a click. He lets his legs out, but Jeongguk is still quiet. “Jeongguk?”

 

The younger sighs in defeat and Hoseok hears the sound of his door opening. “It’s ten past seven.”

 

He wasn’t out for long, but why did it feel like he was stuck in that nightmare for ages?

 

Hoseok steps out and inhales a deep breath, fluttering his eyes closed for a few seconds. It only keeps getting colder, and he’s glad he can’t feel heat licking at his skin anymore. He turns his hands into tight fists when he feels them shake again. Without looking down at them, he pushes the car door closed and starts to walk around the car to where Jeongguk is standing.

 

The younger offers Hoseok a cigarette as he holds one of his own between his lips, and Hoseok doesn’t hesitate when he grabs it from him. “We have to walk for a couple of minutes,” Jeongguk starts, getting out a lighter from his pocket. Hoseok brings the cigarette to his lips, his eyes on the little flame that ignites as Jeongguk lights it up for him with careful hands. “It’s too narrow from here. I can’t drive through.”

 

Hoseok inhales deeply with a nod, eyeing the alley they have to walk through to get to Jo Wontae’s house, then they start moving.

 

Well, old house.

 

He mentioned his family before he died, saying that whoever hired him has their lives on the line if he fucks up and, well, he’s here to find out if he’s bluffing. If he is, good thing that he blasted his head off. If he isn’t, well, this might be a little worse than Hoseok expected.

 

Because whoever hired him must’ve heard of his death, just as much as the underground has heard of how Jung Hoseok was arrested. And everyone knows what happens to whoever falls under Omertà’s feet.

 

Which is why Hoseok thinks that whoever this is, they’re bold as fuck. He can’t wait to get his hands on them to make an example out of them and the whole situation. Even if maybe the odds are not in his favor yet, but he will. He knows he will. 

 

Hoseok exhales a cloud of smoke and looks down to his moving feet for a few seconds, then he looks at Jeongguk.

 

“No one needs to know about what just happened, ight?”

 

The younger looks at him with a little pout of his lips and furrowed eyebrows.

 

“Especially Yoongi and Seokjin.” Hoseok pouts his lips around his cigarette again. “Taehyung, too. You tell him something, and the bastard’s mouth just pours it all out to Jimin, then Jimin tells Yoongi because god forbid he keeps something from him, then Seokjin knows and I'm the one getting my ass beat over nothing. I’m fine, really. It’s just the stress.”

 

“We’re just worried, ya’know?” Jeongguk says. “I know you don’t say shit either way. You didn’t see how you looked. I have every right to be worried. We all do.”

 

“We’re not… We’re not gonna talk about this now,” Hoseok lets out a humorless chuckle. He recognizes the number of the building they’re looking for and his steps fasten. “Isn’t that it?”

 

Jeongguk hums and they climb up the steps of the old-ish apartment building. He’s thankful that they only have to climb two flights of stairs until they reach their destination, then Jeongguk leads the way to find the right door.

 

It’s dusty and the lamp in front of the door Jeongguk settles in front of is flickering annoyingly. Hoseok throws his cigarette in one corner, and Jeongguk does the same before stepping forwards

 

A nasty feeling coils in Hoseok’s gut when he sees the door unlocked, not opened too much for anyone passing by to take notice. Jeongguk sends him a look. He puts one hand on the door and the other pulls out his gun, the older following his example briefly. 

 

Hoseok nods once, and Jeongguk pushes the door open slowly.

 

The light inside is on, but there is absolutely no sign of life detected. It’s too quiet for anyone to be inside, and that doesn’t make Hoseok feel better. He pushes the door closed quietly after them as Jeongguk rounds a corner, his gun pointed sharply in front of him. The older follows his example and walks straight instead.

 

“I’m gonna look inside,” Hoseok whispers as they both share a look, then they part ways.

 

He enters a hallway, two doors to his left and one in front of him. He puts a hand on the first one he finds and pushes it open, noticing how this one isn’t closed all the way too. With his gun still up, Hoseok puts his hand to the wall and pats it to find the light switch, until he finds the cold plastic against his skin. He flips the switch, then warm light illuminates the room.

 

It looks like a children’s bedroom. There are bunk beds pushed up to one side of the room, and the wall opposite to it supports a squared window with closed blinds. The walls are purple with yellow shapes painted over them, and two school uniforms are hung on the metal of the shared bunk beds. Nothing looks out of the ordinary. 

 

Hoseok lets out a little sigh as he walks out of the room. 

 

but the other room’s door is already ajar with its lights on. The large bed is unmade and messy, and there’s a chair knocked over.

 

That can’t be good.

 

“Hyung!”

 

Hoseok’s head snap to where Jeongguk’s hurried voice came from, and his stomach twists.

 

Hoseok hurries outside with his gun in hand. He finds Jeongguk standing before a coffee table in the middle of the living room, and he’s looking at something on the table. He frowns as he reaches him.

 

“What?”

 

“I...”

 

Hoseok feels like he’s gonna be sick.

It took Taehyung some time to get used to the life he got himself into.

 

It was the furthest thing from easy, having to go against every word you vowed on yourself as a policeman. He wouldn’t say that he got used to it just yet, now that a few years have passed, but he wouldn’t also say that he’s 100% there. Nor that he ever will, probably.

 

He had to leave everything behind. His home, his friends, and what remained from his family. It was like he was stripped naked from everything that had kept him grounded.  Sometimes, he’d find himself wishing that he could have done it in any other way. He wished that there was any other way, but he simply found none.

 

 Not when he’d already blasted a bullet in the air instead of shooting the target that sat on his knees in front of him.

 

With all that in mind, he can understand what Jina must be going through. He knows that there is a lot of self-deprecating going on, more so that she’s still in service. Because she has to keep the mask on, and he happens to know just how heavy it is, judging by how loyal she seems.

 

So, he decided that he wants to pay her a little visit.

 

Taehyung wants to show her some kind of comfort. To give her something she can relate to that can help her relax even just a little bit since Hoseok has been doing a very awful job of doing so. It will make it so much easier for her to do what she was asked and facilitate the whole progress for everyone.

 

It’s a cold December day. Taehyung can see the tiny snowflakes fall prettily as he drives to his destination. The fog makes the journey a little more difficult than it should be, but he finally pulls up in front of the cafe soon enough.

 

His dark hair falls on his eyes, almost hiding them completely if it isn’t for the strands that are rolled up gently together in curls. When he walks inside, his senses are immediately engulfed by the smell of freshly brewed coffee and baked goods. Exactly like last time, it makes a small smile stretch on Taehyung’s lips. 

 

The scent, along with the warm brown shades and the various types of people that crowded it, they remind him of how much simpler life can be. They remind him of all the things that almost were but never could be his. 

 

Of all the things he has lost in the fire of this world’s most agonizing pit of hell.

 

So, he takes a seat in a booth beside the glass wall, his eyes catching the snowflakes as they continued to fall oh so prettily, and tries to push the thoughts to the back of his mind again.

 

He inhales a calming breath and takes his leather gloves off. As he sets them down on the table before him, he hears heavy footsteps making their way to where he’s seated.

 

“Welcome, sir,” A waiter greets with a smile, making Taehyung look up at him. He sets down the menu in front of him. “How can I help you?”

 

“Actually,” Taehyung starts, grabbing the menu to look down at it. “I’m looking for someone. Park Jina, the owner’s daughter. Is she here?”

 

After speaking, Taehyung looks back up at the waiter, finding him with lowered eyebrows. “Yes, she is. Do you want me to call her for you?”

 

“That’d be great,” Taehyung smiles.

 

He returns his eyes back to resume the mission of inspecting the menu. He didn’t really have time to enjoy anything the last time he was here because…well, it was eventful, so he’s looking forward to doing just that today.

 

Besides, he’d hate to fuck up weather like this with events similar to that day.

 

Lighter footsteps make their way nearer, and Taehyung looks away from the falling snowflakes once the person settles beside his seat.

 

Jina opens her mouth to speak, but the words never meet the air. Her body tenses up, just like a guitar string being tightened.

 

“Hi,” Taehyung smiles. “I--”

 

“Did he send you to threaten me again?”

 

“ He doesn’t even know I’m here,” Taehyung chuckles with a shake of his head. “I’m sure he agreed with you that none of this will happen again, though. Correct?”

 

Even though she tries to hide it, Taehyung doesn’t miss the way her body relaxes ever so slightly. However, her eyebrows stay furrowed, a grumpy expression plastered on her face. She raises her arms to cross them over her chest and shifts her weight from one leg to the other.

 

“No one said I trusted him.”

 

“I’m solely here to enjoy the view and a hot drink,” Taehyung says. He looks away briefly to glance outside once more before looking back. “I couldn’t enjoy anything last time.”

 

The wrinkles between her eyebrows slowly fade as she loses her frown, but she remains quiet for a few seconds, eyes full of unspoken perplexity.

 

“So,” He starts again, and she flinches at the sudden sound. She must’ve been lost in thought. “What do you think is the best thing I can get in weather like this? I don’t really like coffee.”

 

The detective clears her throat faintly and drops her arms to her sides. “Hot-choco and a donut?”

 

Taehyung nods with a smile. “I want two servings, then.”

 

Jina squints her eyes at him for a couple of seconds in suspicion but shrugs afterward nonetheless. With that, she gives him one last look at turns away. “Alright.”

 

It isn’t so long afterward that Taehyung hears her approaching him again. This time, though, she’s carrying a tray with two cups and two plates on it.

 

“Is someone else coming?” Jina asks thoughtlessly, putting down his order in front of him.

 

“No, not really.”

 

“Is this all for you, then?” She wonders aloud, leaning on the tray as she places it vertically on the table. She looks back and forth between Taehyung and his order.

 

Taehyung replies with a shake of his head. His hands stretch out to push one cup and one plate to the vacant place in front of him. He looks at her with his lips pulled in a thin line and gestures for her to sit.

 

“That’s for you, actually.”

 

Jina’s eyes follow Taehyung’s hand. She leaves her gaze there when he retracts his hands back, and it looks like she is progressing what’s being said. He gives her her time, then she looks up at him. He doesn’t know if it’s a good or a bad sign that her eyes are completely unexpressive. 

 

“What?”

 

“I want to have an actual conversation with you,” Taehyung leans forwards to look down at his hot chocolate as he grabs the hot mug, feeling the heat warm his freezing hands immediately. “I kinda felt bad for how things ended last time we saw each other.”

 

And she stands there, looking at him with the same unreadable expression.

 

She lets the thought sit for a while, and maybe Taehyung surprisingly looks like an actual decent human being. His dark hair covers up his smiley eyes as he looks at her, the little shadows from the falling snow outside dotting his honey-colored skin vividly. His lips are softly pulled in a gentle smile, and she finds herself sighing.

 

Taehyung looks almost harmless with that smile.

 

Jina snaps herself out of her trance and licks her lips. She looks at the vacant seat across from him debatingly for a few seconds, until she slides into the seat whilst placing the tray flat down on the table between them. 

 

She inhales and raises an eyebrow. Crossing her knees under the table, Jina put an elbow on top of it to rest her chin in the palm of her hand. She looks at him, and Taehyung could see the curiosity and caution swimming through her eyes. 

 

“This is a very nice place,” Taehyung compliments nicely whilst he lets his eyes roam around the area again in awe. “Makes me go all chilly inside.”

 

“What a weird thing to hear coming out of a gangster’s mouth.”

 

“Are you always this stubborn?”

 

“24/7.”

 

Taehyung chuckles lowly and brings the hot drink close to his nose to inhale its heavy scent. “I’ve honestly wanted to come back the next day, but it didn’t really seem like the right time.”

 

“Neither is this, but...” Jina trails off sarcastically with a shrug.

 

“I know how hard all of this must be on you,” Taehyung tells her. He gets a scoff in return. “I was in your shoes once.”

 

The detective frowns.“Huh?”

 

“I was a cop,” He says with a little nod of his head, maintaining eye contact. “A detective, to be specific. Violent crime unit, too.”

 

“Well, someone was doing a poor job on cases, apparently…”

 

“Quite the opposite, actually,” Taehyung replies with a soft chuckle. He looks down at his drink. “My partner and I were the department’s aces.” 

 

That only makes Jina’s frown deepen. She watches him silently for a couple of seconds before blurting out.“What the hell happened, then?”

 

“Well,” He starts with a little sigh. The smile falls from his face, only replaced with a soft, almost nostalgic look on his face.“It was all already ruined. I was basically there just to watch everyone around me fall apart. Everyone was so swallowed with greed and lust, it felt like I was the odd one out, not them.”

 

Jina looks away.

 

“I’m sure you noticed it too,” Taehyung speaks out gently. “The corruption, I mean. It wasn’t an exactly easy thing for me to watch back then. Whatever I did to save something, someone else had to ruin it again. It went like this for forever and it just felt like I was wasting my energy and health on nothing--”

 

“So you quit and joined a gang.”

 

“When I saw how much more control I had over crime than I did when I was a cop, yes,” Taehyung fires right away, sharp eyes focusing on her own. “Everyone’s so filthy now. I’m not justifying what I did, but when I did notice I was getting out of line, I couldn’t even handle myself. I even left my hometown because I was so disgusted with the way I let my emotions get to me.”

 

“Because you became just as greedy for power as they were.”

 

“That’s the point,” Taehyung lets out. “I didn’t. I just saved someone I shouldn’t have.”

 

The look of confusion returns. She’s not resting her chin on the palm of her hand anymore. She has her arms crossed on the edge of the table, leaning forward in her seat, and Taehyung knows that she’s listening to every word he says. She’s giving him 100% of her attention. He can’t say the wrong things, now.

 

But as the memories come back one by one, he can’t help but feel the rush of embarrassment race through his entire being. Saying all of this in front of an actual cop makes him feel like he’s being judged and suddenly the gaze he has on him feels heavier on his skin.

 

“I either had to kill someone or betray my own morals.” Taehyung’s jaw clenches. “And I couldn’t kill him.”

 

“Who was it?” Jina asks bluntly, but Taehyung is glad he doesn’t hear bitterness in her voice. “Must’ve been someone pretty freaking valuable if you did that for them.”

 

“He kind of is, actually,” He says.“I don’t think I regret it, now that I think about it.”

 

“Someone I know?”

 

“He was with us when we came here the other time, yes,” Taehyung replies with a slight nod.  “Jeongguk. Dark hair, big eyes, gives you emo boyfriend vibes--”

 

“Ah,” 

 

“Yeah,” He nods again and briefly looks down at the wooden table “We used to work with each other before the incident. He had more connections to servers and people than the legal system, so me and my old partner asked for his help a few times before we got a little too fond of each other to be just people who work together for mutual benefit.”

 

Taehyung hates the look of sympathy that temporarily breaks on Jina’s neutral expression.

 

“And I’m not exactly the type of person to kill a close friend so I don’t lose something that’s already too fucked up beyond repair.”

 

“So, you resign and join a gang,” Jina’s tone is a little less judging than the last time.

 

“I resign and join a gang.”

 

Taehyung stares at his drink, finding himself chuckling lightly at literally nothing. With a shake of his head, he brings the mug to his lips with one hand and pushes his hair out of his face with the other whilst looking outside.

 

It’s silent for a while, but he notices the way the detective cracks a small smile of her own. She looks down at her drink with a shake of her head, then started to reach for it. When she takes her first sip, Taehyung smiles to himself.

 

“It wasn’t easy at first,” He starts again, and Jina looks back up at him. “I’d betrayed my country and myself, I knew that, but as I said…” He trailed off to think carefully about what he is going to say next. “I realized I have more control over criminals than I did when I was a cop.”

 

“While being a criminal yourself.”

 

“We never tell people to do drugs or kill each other,” Taehyung responds, his eyes sharpening for the first time that afternoon. “They all take whatever we offer, we never push anyone to do anything.”

 

“Never heard a justification so blunt, honestly,” Jina brings her mug to her lips again.

 

“What did you expect me to say?”

 

“I don’t know,” She shrugs, her eyes lazily trailing back to Taehyung.

 

“We’re honest people, Jina-ssi,” He says, confidence naturally lingering within the words. “We’re not the type to fuck around.”

 

“Yeah of course, because I haven’t met Hoseok or anything.”

 

At the mention of his name, Taehyung chuckles deeply. He leans back in his seat comfortably with a boxy smile on full display. “Hoseok’s something else…”

 

“Hoseok’s an asshole.”

 

“I can never really disagree with that, to be honest, but he’s a gang leader. Omerta’s leader. How exactly do you expect him to behave?”

 

“I thought Yoongi was the leader…” Jina states, her voice making it out to sound like a question.

 

“He is,” Taehyung agrees with one nod. “Hoseok is, too. Even if he behaves like he isn’t sometimes. ”

 

“I see he’s a pain in the ass to everyone, then,” Jina remarks with a light chuckle and Taehyung gladly takes that as a sign that the detective is finally getting more comfortable.

 

“He’s not an asshole,” Taehyung shakes his head, a little sigh coming out with his words. “Hoseok’s just…” Taehyung trails off once more. He seems to be at a loss of words as he looks around, trying to search for the right word.

 

“An asshole.”

 

“Okay, maybe a little,” They share a low laugh. “But he’s not all bad. He’s just… a little rusty.”

 

Jina rolls her eyes. “Very rusty, if you ask me,”

 

“He’s actually a decent human being if you get to know him.”

 

“I don’t think I want to, though,” Jina’s tone changes at that. “In fact, i don’t wanna know him at all.”

 

“Well, you’ll have to, apparently,” Taehyung tells her. He sounds understanding enough for Jina’s mood not to turn sour again. “Might as well get used to it, don’t you think?”

---

 

Hoseok inhales a deep breath.

 

He kills the engine and lets his head fall to his chest. He keeps his hands on the wheel and lets the silence around him sit for a while, the feeling somehow soothingly washes over him as he feels a migraine creep up on him. He can only prepare himself for more pain until he finally goes home to rest. At that thought, he lets out a low groan.

 

He’d come to the realization that, even when she isn’t present, Park Jina still manages to get on his nerves.

 

Hoseok’s been trying to reach her for the past couple of days, but he was only met with unanswered calls and unread texts. He didn’t really give much attention to the matter for the first day. But, for the second and third, he could feel the irritation weight his already heavy shoulders.

 

Hoseok eyes the familiar blue gate tiredly, heaving in another breath that he lets out in a long sigh. He lets his hands fall from the steering wheel to unbuckle his seatbelt, then he gets out of his car. He reaches in the inner pocket of his jacket to get out the pack of cigarrettes he has inside, and silently decides to have one before he becomes face to face with the pain in his ass.

 

Or not. Maybe she fled. He’s here to find out.

 

And if she did… oh she must have a death wish. He’s gonna look for her and when he finds her, god knows he’ll only take out all his fucking anger on her and she won’t be making it out alive.

 

Hoseok exhales a small cloud of smoke as he looks around the neighborhood lazily. He tries to distract himself and inspects the houses around him, pulling the cigarette back to his lips.

 

Jina didn’t live somewhere luxurious, but it isn’t low class either. The houses look big and cozy from outside. Warm lights escaped from the exposed windows all around, helping the streetlight to illuminate the area in the dark. Hoseok can hear the faint sound of pots clinking together and a child’s laugh, and he finds himself sighing.

 

He envies her, he realizes, for living in a neighborhood like this. A place so warm even on the outside, where he can feel life buzz around him.

 

It’s something he lacks but craves oh so helplessly.

 

Hoseok throws away the burnt filter and pushes himself off of his car. He walks to the gates and holds his breath. He brings his hands to the button he finds on the machine stuck to the wall, then shoves his hands in his pockets and rocks on his heels impatiently.

 

The more he waits, the more he feels his blood rush in his head. His thoughts start to take him someplace else and his jaw clenches, but the click he hears coming from the speaker cuts them short.

 

“Who is this?” Daeun’s voice comes out calmly. 

 

Hoseok takes a step back in surprise. “Oh… It’s—”

 

“Jung Hoseok-ssi?!” Her voice booms and he can hear her voice from inside too. A satisfying buzz meets his ears and the gate unlocks. He exhales. “Oh, please come in!”

 

He hesitantly pushes the gate open. The enthusiasm in her voice takes him aback a little, and the slight stun in his face is visible to the woman that eagerly opens the front door to her house. He closes the gate behind him, then turns to her with a bow as she walks down the steps separating them.

 

“I’m sorry if I came unannounced.”

 

“It’s so good to see you again!” She finally settles in front of him, and he can’t help the smile that stretches his lips when she grins at him. She steps aside a little, gesturing to the front door with an arm “Please, do come in!”

 

“No, no! Thank you!” Hoseok reaches his hands out in reassurance, the smile absentmindedly never leaving his face. “I just came to ask if Jina is around.” He lets his hands fall beside him, his fists balling in loose fists. “She hasn’t been replying to my texts or calls for a few days, is everything okay?”

 

“Oh, my poor Jina,” Daeun’s face falls a little as she turns to him again. She crosses her arms over her chest. She must be cold, she doesn’t have a heavy layer on. “She’s been acting a little off lately. Every time I asked her what was going on she just...kept quiet about it.” She looks a little apologetic. “She hasn’t been answering anyone, actually. It’s not just you. She usually leaves her phone home now.”

 

A sigh of relief threatens to escape but Hoseok frowns instead. He pulls his best worried expression on display. “Is it something related to work, maybe?”

 

The woman shrugs. “I’m not sure. Usually, when it gets hard at work she’s more on the angry and snappy side. Now she’s just…” She trails off, looking for the right words to say. “She’s snappy and all, but something’s off about it. I don’t know…” She looks up at him, a breathy chuckle escaping her lips “I can just feel it.”

 

Hoseok feels a ping in his chest. Irritation is reduced to a subtle feeling in the back of his head, but another thing begins to lurk around in his brain.

 

Daeun smiles.“Maybe it’s just because she’s taking a few days off. She’s not used to lazing around.”

 

“Is she here?” Hoseok asks.

 

“No,” Daeun replies, shaking her head. “She took off a few minutes ago, actually. Why don’t you go see her for a bit?” She suggests. Something almost mischievous flashes in her eyes briefly, but she hides it with a gentle smile.“She needs someone, right now. I know she does. She just doesn’t like asking for help.”

 

Hoseok thinks that he’s the last person Jina would need in a situation like this, though.

 

“Where did she go?”

 

“There’s a little park around the end of the neighborhood,” Daeun explains. Her hopeful smile spreads wider the more she talks. “She always goes there when she has a little too much on her mind.”

 

“Yeah, alright.” Hoseok nods, looking away from her for a few seconds. “I’ll get going now—“

 

“Oh, wait!” Daeun reaches out a hand. Hoseok looks back at her, stopping before he could even move. She starts to move backward. “Hold on. I’ll be right back.”

 

He watches her climb up the stairs again only to disappear inside, and he frowns. A hand moves to the back of his neck awkwardly before he can stop it.

 

Really, how can someone so sweet give birth to a person like Jina?

 

The lurking feeling gets louder. He feels it and tries to look for the point of its initiation, but Daeun returns quicker than he thinks.

 

She walks down the stairs once more. This time, with a white box in her arms.

 

“I brought some back with me from the cafe because she hasn’t eaten anything today,” Daeun hands Hoseok the box once she was close enough. “Maybe you could try to share some together?”

 

“I doubt she’d want to,” Hoseok mumbles quietly, looking down at the box in his hands.

 

“Hmm?”

 

He looks back up at her, and maybe he stayed quiet for longer than he should’ve.

 

“Nothing,” Hoseok finally lets out. He looks down at the box again for a few moments before looking back up at her again. “Thank you for this. I’ll make sure she eats.”

 

“You should eat some too,” She says excitedly. “I made them myself.”

 

Hoseok chuckles, bowing down a little “I’ll be off, then.”

It’s quiet. The swings and slides all around are empty, abandoned by the kids that are now probably being tucked in for a good night’s sleep. 

 

Jina can spot some pink in all the green around her. It’s camellias’ turn to bloom now that winter has finally come.

 

The night sky is clear. The stars have finally made a dreamy appearance in the dark sheet that she looks up at, and she eventually gets lost in it trying to connect them all together into familiar shapes. She hums familiar tunes to herself as she sits down on one of the swings. She can feel a little strain in the back of her neck from looking up too much.

 

With how eventual her life has been, moments like this, she tries to enjoy them to the max. Where her mind doesn’t wander, where she just exists without having to do anything else. Even if it’s temporarily, Jina tries to fill her lungs with oxygen and closes her eyes, sighing calmly as she leans her head on the pole of the swing.

 

Any other day, Namjoon would sit in the swing beside her and they would just stay quiet and enjoy each other’s presence, but she didn’t find it in her to see him this time. 

 

It’s not that she doesn’t want to, because she does. She wants to throw herself in his arms and cry her worries away, wants to feel the pats of comfort he lays on her back as he tells her that everything will turn out just fine, but she can’t see him. Not until she gets her shit together.

 

She hasn’t seen him since that night. She knows how loose-lipped she can be around him, and it’s his fault for making her so comfortable around him. She’s scared that because of how heavy she feels, her hands might loosen around the rope she’s tied her tongue with and tell him what really happened when Hoseok took her away.

 

And that kinda can’t happen unless she wants a bullseye on his head.

 

She’s a touch away from exploding. Like a fucking time bomb, except she can’t see the timer, and the beeps are way too alarming 100% of the time.

 

Jina tries to take a deep breath when she starts to feel her heartbeat hammer in her chest mercilessly. She tries to think of something, anything else that could distract her away from losing her breath, from letting her thoughts take over her being, and the detective feels her eyes water.

 

She fucking hates crying.

 

“Ahem…”

 

Jina flinches at the sudden sound, unaware that someone was approaching her. A hand absentmindedly reaches to wipe away the barely-fallen tear from her cheek and she keeps her head forwards for a few seconds. She takes a deep breath and tries to swallow the lump that managed to painfully form in her throat, then she turns her head to the left.  

 

And she freezes.

 

Jung Hoseok stands there awkwardly, around seven feet away from her, with a familiar-looking white box in his arms. 

 

Jina feels her stomach clench at the sight of him. Her body stiffens up visibly.

 

Hoseok sees that. He sees how she straightens her back after recognizing him, her expression hardening. He wishes he’d missed how she looked just moments before.

 

Again, something tugs at his chest. He recognizes it.

 

But why, though?

 

They stay quiet for a few seconds, just staring at each other, both of them speechless for two different reasons.

 

“How did you find me?”

 

“I…” Hoseok frowns at the hoarseness in her voice, looking away for a moment in puzzlement before placing his gaze on hers again. “I went to your house because you weren't answering my texts and calls. Your mom told me you were here and…” He trails off, taking a couple of careful steps forwards whilst looking down at the box in his hands. “She gave me this.”

 

A ghost of a frown appears on her previously expressionless face. When She doesn’t show any signs of protest after Hoseok steps closer to her, he decides to take it as a sign to keep walking until he settles in front of her, slowly coming to a halt

 

Jina looks up at him from her place on the swing. “What do you want?”

 

“Your mom told me to make sure you eat.” Hoseok holds out the box in his hands for her to grab, but she stays unmoving. He tilts his head for a few moments. “She also said you weren’t answering anyone. I thought you--”

 

“You thought I ran.” Jina nods. She inhales a deep breath. “That’s why you came?”

 

“Hmm,” He pulls his lips in a straight line. “It’s been three days. I couldn’t help but think otherwise.”

 

“Yeah, I don’t blame you.” She sighs and looks away to her right. “Lucky for you I'm not a coward, I guess.”

 

He keeps looking at her, a questioning eyebrow raising slightly. “Are we still on an agreement?”

 

“You made it clear that I don’t have a choice.”

 

“I didn’t know you were the sensitive type, to be honest,” Hoseok says, sitting down on the grass. Cross-legged with the box on his lap.

 

If she suddenly decides to start swinging, Hoseok’s face would be so easily kicked into oblivion.

 

So much for planning on how to cut her into pieces, right?

 

“It’s very obvious how you don’t have a lot of human interactions, you know?”

 

He’s slightly taken aback by her comment, but she isn’t exactly wrong.

 

“No, I do.” He looks at the box to find a way to open it up. “I just only care for a little number of people.”

 

Jina looks down at him again, a deeper frown taking over her face. “What the hell are you doing?”

 

Hoseok stops mid-way, frozen under her gaze. “Making sure you eat?”

 

“What?”

 

“I told you…” Hoseok resumes his action, opening the box to the mouthwatering sight and scent of glazed donuts. “She said you haven’t eaten all day. Told me to make sure you eat n’ stuff.”

 

By the time Hoseok was finishing his sentence, he was already biting down on one of the round goods himself.

 

“Are you sure that this is what you’re doing?”

 

“You know…” Hoseok mumbles through a mouthful and gestures with his donut. “You’re very lucky that I like your mom.”

 

Jina tilts her head to the side in question. “And how is that?”

 

“She’s the exact opposite of you,” Hoseok replies, never missing a beat. “She’s bright and smiley…” He counts with his free hand. “She’s very nice, and on top of that she’s a very good baker.”

 

“Is that why you threatened to kill her so you could get your way with me?”

 

Hoseok looks up at her, meeting her gaze. “No, it’s why I gave you my word that nothing would come close to her.”

 

“I don’t think I trust you with that, Jung Hoseok.”

 

Hoseok shrugs, biting down on his donut again. “You’ll kind of have to eventually, though.”

 

Jina scoffs, looking away from him to trace the line of a Camille blooming on the bushes around her.

 

Maybe if she pretends he isn’t there, he’d just seize to exist. Maybe.

 

“Woah, these are seriously good,” Hoseok exclaims in amazement, and damn it, isn’t he loud. “Damn, I haven’t had one of those in a while.”

 

“Ugh…” Jina moves her knees a little bit to push herself on the swing.

 

“When did you first open the cafe?”

 

She looks up at him with a scowl, and he’s smart enough to know that this isn’t a good sign. She stays quiet for longer than he expected, but he tries not to show the awkwardness he felt.

 

What are you doing?”

 

“What?”

 

“What are you doing?” She repeats. Her voice is a little sharper this time. “Because I’m a little confused right now. Last time we saw each other we were at each other’s throats.” Jina gestures with her hand, and Hoseok nods in agreement. “Now you’re sitting with me, eating donuts while trying to make a fucking civilized conversation?”

 

“You’re a very difficult person, you know that?”

 

“I don’t think I need your sympathy.”  She snaps right away. “Not when you’re the reason why I’m sitting alone in the middle of the fucking night feeling like I might explode at any given pressure.”

 

He doesn’t know why he isn’t replying, but he always found it appealing when she talks.

 

“Oh my god, from the very first moment I’ve met you, Hoseok...” She runs her hands in her hair, pulling it away from her face with a humorless chuckle escaping her lips. “You just fucked up my life in the worst way possible just to get your way. And this isn't even just it. You’re forcing me to go against my own morals just so I can protect the only thing I have left in my life.”

 

There she goes again. Exposing her vulnerabilities to him as clearly as a summer’s sun.

 

“So excuse me if I’m being a little too difficult for your fucking liking, Sir.”

 

Hoseok starts feeling it physically, now. The lurking feeling.

 

In a way, he can understand how she must feel. The raging anger in her breaking voice that shakes with barely-kept fury is directed right at him, and he can’t blame her when he really thinks about it. He can’t blame her when he notices the gloss of her sad-glazed eyes, and he doesn’t hold it against her when she looks away from him to blink away her erupting emotions. 

 

He was in her place once, after all. Except he was way younger than she is now, and it was a completely different story than this one.

 

As he continues looking at her, his mind starts to translate the unrecognized signals. The lurking feeling he doesn’t understand starts to show itself, and he knows exactly why this specific feeling finally settles in his brain under a bright spotlight.

 

He, too, knows how desperate it feels to try to protect something when you don’t have the upper hand, because the memories are still fresh in his broken mind even after countless years of its existence. Because he can still see her like it happened yesterday, laying in a pool of her own blood with faint screams telling him to keep running.

 

Hoseok finds himself thinking that he doesn’t want someone like Jina to feel like this. Like how he felt back then, and how he feels now.

 

Maybe it’s because, as he said, Kang Daeun left such a good first, and even second expression on him, maybe because he doesn’t know if he can truly do what he promised to do if Jina fucks them over, now that he’s seen how nicely she smiles and how much Jina is willing to do just to protect her.

 

He knows exactly what he’s doing to her.

 

In a brief second, he suddenly finds himself wishing he could let her go have her normal life back. He wishes she wasn’t the one that took the call because he hates feeling like this. Because he shouldn’t be so lenient with someone that can turn his world upside down.

 

Jina is breathing sharply. She’s looking anywhere but Hoseok’s eyes. Her right leg started bouncing a few minutes ago, gaining his attention a few times. The detective looks like she’s not having an easy time breathing, and Hoseok feels like he’s watching something he shouldn’t be. 

 

He finds himself thinking of a way to make it better.

 

He looks to the side, then down at the box in his lap. “I understand how you feel.”

 

“Do you?!”

 

“Yes,” Unlike her harsh tone, for the first time, Hoseok is calmer than she is. “But I don’t have any other choice, either. My situation is just as bad as yours, if not worse. All I asked of you was to get me the information of the caller, and you’ll be getting yourself a bust out of it without moving an inch.”

 

“What if I get pulled in whatever the fuck’s going on?”

 

“I won’t let that happen,” Hoseok replies right away, in a matter-of-factly voice. They stare at each other, tension sucking away the oxygen around them until, Hoseok too, has to inhale a deep breath to satisfy his needly lungs. “I told you, Jina. You and your mother are under my protection until you pull your hands out of this. I understand it’s hard for you to trust someone like me, but this is the only way this can go. Please, don’t make this harder than it already is.”

 

It’s the first time Jina sees actual human emotions on Hoseok since they met.

 

She continues to stare at him, her cat-like eyes unblinking. Her cheeks look redder than usual, Hoseok notices. Probably a mix between the cold weather and the number of emotions she must be holding inside. They stay quiet, and she breathes deeper. The intakes are less sharp than a couple of minutes ago, and the tension fades away ever so slightly.

 

An apology was at the tip of his tongue, but his ego doesn’t let it go past his lips.

 

Was it the thought of his own mother that softened him up? Or the way Jina looks right in front of him? 

 

Or both?

 

“Don’t cut back on food, Jina,” Hoseok grunts while pushing himself up to his feet. He dusts the back of his thighs afterward. “It isn’t really gonna help anything if you do.” He bends down, grabbing the box of donuts from where he previously sat. He takes a couple of steps closer, then he placed it in her lap, gently pulling one hand out from underneath it to place it on top so it wouldn’t fall. “Make sure you eat them. I don’t want your mom to be mad at me.”

 

Jina looks up at him, but he fails to read her expression once more. She shivers, he can feel it on her skin, but neither of them breaks eye contact until Hoseok looks down at their connected skin, before he slowly lets go of her hand and straightens his back. 

 

“You don’t have to reply all the time. Just whenever you feel like it, check in with me. Just so I know everything is still up.” Hoseok informs, a sigh escaping his lips. He gives her one last look-over, his little dimples appearing as he purses his lips together before he starts walking backward. “I’ll go, now. You can cry all you want.”

 

His tone is teasing, but not the one Jina is used to hearing from him.

 

Hell, she could almost say he was trying to make her laugh.

 

She snaps to her feet and threateningly pulls her hands back with the box as if she’ll throw it at him, but, with a little smirk, Hoseok turns around and starts to jog out of sight.

 

After he rounds a corner, Jina’s shoulders drop and a sigh makes its way past her lips. She sits back down on the swing and looks down at the open box on her lap. She hears the grumble her stomach lets out at the sight of her mother’s donuts.

 

Grabbing one, she looks up in the direction Hoseok disappeared into. “Fucking douchbag.”

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

“You know you can go home if you want to, right?”

 

The silvery voice makes Hoseok break out of his trance. He’s a little startled as he snaps his head up at where Seokjin is seated. The older doesn’t look back up at him, resuming his task of organizing the stacks of paper in front of him in an orderly manner for the people that are arriving in about an hour.

 

“Why?” Hoseok tilts his head in confusion.

 

“You look like shit today,” Seokjin replies, dropping a piece of paper on the table in front of him to finally look up at Hoseok, who scoffs. “Have you been sleeping?”

 

“When the fuck did I ever get a stable sleeping schedule?” Hoseok chuckles humorlessly. He brings the bitter drink in his hand to his lips and takes a sip. The buzzing liquid burns down his throat just enough.

 

Seokjin stares at him for a few more seconds. He watches as Hoseok leans his back on the back of the sofa he’s sitting on, and his eyes start to zone out again.

 

“Are you seeing stuff again?”

 

Jeongguk’s gonna get his ass beat.

 

Hoseok brings his gaze back to Seokjin, and they stay silent for some time. “It wasn't as bad as Jeongguk probably made it out to be.”

 

“I thought we agreed that you tell someone when anything happens,” Seokjin scolds, resting his elbows on his knees. “You don’t have to go through this alone--”

 

“Spare me the saps,” Hoseok interrupts him. He gets up from his seat whilst putting his drink on the glass table separating them, careful not to put it next to Seokjin’s paperwork. “It was for one night. Nothing big.”

 

Seokjin, alongside Yoongi, has been very attentive to Hoseok's...problems for a long time now. Yes, Seokjin joined the party a little late, but he never cared for him less. Since Hoseok lost his parents at a young age, he hasn’t been handling his mental health well up until what he went through became visible to those around him.

 

After the loss little Hoseok suffered, he didn’t have any family left except for the Mins, who were kind enough to take him in, and that was how Hoseok and Yoongi grew up together.

 

Seokjin was introduced to them at the early teenage years for the pair when Yoongi’s father finally found a person reliable enough to handle the hidden empire he and the Jungs have built together until the second generation is old enough to finally take over. 

 

Seokjin was a couple of years older than Hoseok when they met, but they shortly managed to work out their friendship just fine. Soon enough, Hoseok’s difficulty to sleep became visible to Seokjin too, and years flowed by without that problem being solved.

 

Since Hoseok moved in into the Mins’s household, everyone would take shifts to stay with Hoseok until they’re sure he’s sleeping soundly with no problems, but it was only more difficult when it was just Hoseok and Yoongi alone. It happened more often than they both liked.

 

Little Yoongi knew nothing of what he should do, except for waking his friend up from his nightmares to hold him close whilst the other sobs himself back to his restless sleep.

 

As they grew up, and Hoseok became quieter and quieter about what goes on in his mind when he drifts off to sleep, which urged Yoongi, His parents, and Seokjin to suggest that he starts going to a therapist for professional help.

 

He didn’t like the idea at first, but after he saw how as time went by, he only got worse, he finally decided to give it a go in his late teen years.

 

Nothing really ever stopped permanently, he still has his triggers every now and then. At least he’s able to get enough sleep from time to time to recharge him just enough to go through the times where he’d still see a crimson tide in his cursed dreams.

 

“Why are you two bickering at this hour?”

 

A feminine voice breaks out in the quiet area, making the two men snapped their heads back to the entrance of the large room they’re in.

 

“It’s literally 9 pm, Dahye.”

 

“I still don’t see your point,” Dahye replies whilst throwing her coat and purse at a nearby counter before she reaches where Seokjin is seated to plant a quick kiss on his bared cheek. Then, she starts to make her way to where Hoseok is standing.

 

“Oh, you look so bad, baby.”

 

“It’s good to see you too. How long has it been? A month?”

 

Dahye pouts, holding Hoseok by the front of his jacket as she presses her body into his. “I’ve been busy, mister. No need for a scolding session.” She pulls him in for a hug, disregarding his groans of disagreement until he gives up in her arms and wraps a single arm around her waist.

 

“Ugh, get a room,” Seokjin gags and returns to his paperwork. They let go of each other.

 

“Why are you early?” Hoseok asks while straightening his dark blazer. “No one’s here yet.”

 

“ Because i haven’t seen you in a month,” She replies and grabs the glass he previously abandoned. She flops down on the sofa across from the one Seokjin’s sitting on. She puts one leg over the other. “And to make sure everything was going well.”

 

“Well, everything’s getting screwed over lately. I wouldn’t really be surprised if this fucks up.”

 

“We’re not desperate for this anyways—“

 

“No, we are,” Seokjin interrupted as Hoseok shoved his hands in the pockets of his hands, standing between the two sofas. “We need to make up for the lost profit of the cocaine we lost, even more so now that someone’s very clearly pulling some shit up against us and we still have no fucking idea of who they are.”

 

“That reminds me…” Hoseok walks away to the bar to his left. Without looking at them, he grabs the pictures he left there and walks back, only to throw them in front of Dahye who’s been following his movement curiously all along. “This happened.”

 

She leans forward and looks down at them. Hoseok watches as her playfulness falls, and a scowl takes over her face.

 

“What is this?”

 

“Me and Jeongguk went to find Jo Wontae’s family. The one we were supposedly selling to. He told us that whoever hired him had his family, and true to his words…” Hoseok trails off, his eyes falling to the pictures Dahye now has in her hands. “We found those in the house.”

 

“Those are children,” Dahye looks up at Hoseok, then to Seokjin. “They’re fucking butchered.”

 

The pictures Jeongguk had found were those of Jo Wontae’s family, except that they are barely recognizable from the amount of blood that took over each picture. No one can even see where they might be. Too much blood, too much dead gazes. They didn’t even bother to close their fucking eyes.

 

It’s haunting.

 

No matter how much Hoseok tries to erase the images out of his head, he only manages to crave them deeper and he can’t explain how much he hates it.

 

“They’re tryna send a message here,” Seokjin says. He crosses his arms over his chest. “Taehyung told me he’s been looking into smaller gangs that might be behind all of this. Nothing is coming up. Nothing out of the ordinary has been happening anywhere. It’s damn clear that it’s us on the bullseye.”

 

With a humorless smile, Hoseok looks Dahye.“So, since taking back the drugs in the government vaults would look way too suspicious now, we need that deal.” 

 

“Didn’t you say that you’ve got the detective that arrested you to work for us?”

 

“She is,” Hoseok replies. A hand slides out of his pocket to rest on the back of his neck. “She’s going back to work tomorrow. But it hasn’t been enough time to just slip the shit out without anyone taking notice.”

 

“Her part of the deal is to get the fucker that reported us,” Seokjin informs. “The rest of the process is ours. She isn’t supposed to do anything else.”

 

“What’s in it for her, though?” Dahye asks.

 

Seokjin looks at Hoseok and waits for his reply.

 

“We just have to keep her and her mother safe until we’ve got our hands on whoever screwed us over.”

 

“She didn’t ask for money?”

 

“I don’t think she’s the type to ask for money,” Hoseok says.

 

“Are you guys sure we can trust her?” Dahye asks, allowing Seokjin to let out a heavy sigh. His hands go back to shuffling with the stuff in front of him. “It’s kinda suspicious.”

 

“She’s got nothing to do anyway. Park Jeongsu’s her unit’s leader, she doesn’t have anyone to tell.” Seokjin mumbles quietly, his focus slowly diverting away from the conversation again. 

 

“Yeah…” Hoseok lets out.

 

It kept resurfacing in his head, how she looked ahead of her while they sat down by the river. Her face remained straight and emotionless, but he could never miss how a slight tremor made its way through her smaller body.

 

Maybe from the cold, maybe from fear, he might never know.

 

Her cheeks were as red as fresh tomatoes, her nose joining in shortly as well. When he looked closely, he could almost see her blinking eyes move in slow motion. He could’ve sworn that if he concentrates, even more, he might’ve been able to feel the way time slows down around him.

 

Hoseok remembers her dazed eyes looking up at the sky aimlessly last night. He remembers how steady her breath was, and how he was the one to ruin it. 

 

And he remembers the lurking feeling. One that he is yet to understand, or more likely refuses to acknowledge the reasons behind to himself even though he knows them all too well.

 

Jina is an attractive woman, Hoseok would never deny that. He thought of that from the very first time he saw her under the yellow light of the investigation room.

 

He remembers everything from that day so vividly. How frustrated, how pissed he was to have his pride preyed on by a complete stranger, let alone a police officer.

 

But he also remembered how Jina’s cheeks flushed red at his words then. He remembers how she tried to talk it off. He remembers thinking that he likes her eyes, and how familiar they looked to him. How he managed to get lost in them when he stared for too long, but never allowed her the luxury of noticing so.

 

The ping in his chest returns when he recalls the way she visibly struggled to breathe while talking to him last night. The way her face was scrunched up in an angry scowl, and the ping got stronger at the thought of her glossy gaze, and how he, for a split second, thought that maybe he didn’t like that he was the reason behind it. 

 

Once more, he catches himself wishing he could let her go. Because he knows what he’s doing to her. He knows what buttons he has to push for her to comply, and maybe he feels bad for pressing them. Even if he doesn’t like that he feels bad. Even if he knows he shouldn’t.

 

Hoseok thinks that, under any other circumstances, Park Jina would’ve gotten him feeling some type of way.

 

Maybe then, he wouldn’t have to deny the way he likes looking into her eyes. How he likes the way her intense gaze would pour endlessly into his.

It would be a mess, right?

 

A huge fucking mess.

Notes:

oh boi.
there u go! i'm sorry if there are any mistakes in this one my bp was high while editing it lol.
a lot of things are gonna go down next chapter and the one after, so look forwards to that! also! do you like the length of the chapters, or would you like it longer? or less than this? lmk!!
Thank you so so so much for reading if you do! I'll see you in the next chapter <3

Chapter 5: cinque

Summary:

Jina just sits there helplessly. Her gaze gets blurrier than a few minutes ago and the room spins sickeningly around her. She plants her free hand on the cold porcelain floor. Her droopy eyes trail up to the man frozen in front of her, then a loud hiccup rocks her body.

Hoseok closes his eyes and exhales. “Can you walk?”

“I…” Jina looks down at herself. “I’m not so sure.”

Notes:

Am i late again? yes. yes i am.
Did i struggle to edit this chapter because my exams start in ten days and i have adhd and i hate my major? yes. yes.
BUT I MANAGED TO DO IT!! i'm currenly ignoring my responsibilties until i press publish, but AT LEAST I HAVE THIS DONE!! I honestly don't know when the next Chapter will be, but let's hope it's within the next weak because my uni sucks :) Please be patient! <3
You can follow me on twt for updates too! I'm planning to do a trailer and all so hehe. It's @EB0YSOPE !
Anyways, let's jump right into it! I hope you enjoy <3
Feedback and kudos are appriciated<3
(Slight note, Jina is drunk 100% of the time in this chapter. please bare with her emotional ass.)

“Thank you for taking me out, for real. I kinda fucking needed it.”

 

Chungha watches her friend stare at the shot glass in her hand with a raised eyebrow. Amusement all over her face, she has both elbows on the bar in front of them with her cheeks in her hands.

 

“Don’t you have work tomorrow?” She asks Jina mockingly.

 

Jina downs yet another shot then turns to Chungha. Her skin is painted blue and purple from the continuously changing lights around them, and Jina doesn’t understand how someone can look so good even in such poor light.

 

After disappearing without notice the night Hoseok took her to meet Yoongi, Jina only woke up to endless missed calls and texts from Chungha who cursed her ear off when she decided to call her back and pull up another lie from the box to cover the fact that she was away to make a deal with the fucking devil.

 

But Chungha must’ve picked up on how blue Jina had felt because she brushed it off quickly and decided to plan another day for them to meet instead. She’d told Jina that she doesn’t like hearing her voice so gloomy, and Jina thought that she could use the distraction. 

 

But, for Jina’s shitty luck, the only day Chungha was free on is the one right before she returns to work. Jina feels like she could burst if she doesn’t blow off some steam.

 

“I do,” Jina gestures at Chungha with her empty shot glass, only to put it down afterward and gesture for the bartender to pour her another shot. “But the more I think about it the more i just feel like it doesn’t matter anymore, you know? Sober or drunk, I’ll still fucking hate it.”

 

“I don’t remember you hating your job that much,” Chungha tells her. She looks sympathetic, and Jina hates it. “You never told me what happened to get you penalized.”

 

“Thanks,” Jina shouts at the bartender over the loud music after he pours her another shot. She looks back at her friend. “Are you seriously taking me out to talk about work? Let me get drunk in peace, woman! Will ya?”

 

Chungha laughs at the slur that starts to appear in Jina’s speech. “At least slow down until I come back, yeah? I have to go do something real quick—”

 

“Huh?” Jina lets out, and she may or may not have snapped her neck to the side way too quickly because she feels a strain spike in the area right afterward. “You said you’re free tonight!”

 

“I am! I’m not even leaving the place. I just have someone to meet for business, i’ll be back before you know it.” Chungha tries to reassure her, but Jina’s scowl deepens. “You know how i know the owner of this place, yeah? Me and him just have to meet with someone here with some of our friends and it will be over before you know it.”

 

“You’re leaving me to hang out with other people?! Why did you drag—”

 

“Jesus christ… I said business. We have a business meeting, Jina. I swear it won’t take more than twenty minutes. Maximum.”

 

“Oooh,” Jina’s scowl fades, and she lets out a giggle. She leans in towards Chungha and whispers. “Criminal stuff.”

 

“I can’t believe you just fucking said this,” Chungha tells her with a deadpan. “Just don’t go around saying that, for god’s sake.”

 

“It’s fine,” Jina keeps giggling. It looks like the alcohol is hitting her system. Hard. “I’m no better. I do criminal stuff too, you know?”

 

Chungha gives her a weird look but gets off of her stool anyways. “Actually, don’t go around at all.”

 

Jina nods, downing another shot.

 

“Don’t take drugs from anyone if offered.”

 

“I’m a detective—”

 

“Don’t say that either,” Chungha cuts her off, her hand agile to cover her friend’s mouth. “Be in one piece when I come back, alright?”

 

Jina spins on her stool to face her. She puts a hand on Chungha’s to remove it from her face. “Don’t worry.” She tries to reassure her, even though her flushed cheeks and droopy eyes worry Chungha even more. “It’ll be fine.”

It was not fine.

 

Because, well, it took Chungha a lot more than twenty minutes to finish the meeting, and Jina already had a considerable amount of alcohol flowing freely in her system.

 

To be fair, the first twenty minutes passed with no problems with her. Music is nice and the tequila burned just enough, and the bartender was nice enough to fix her a sweet drink when he noticed how much she’s already drunk. Maybe Chungha told him to take care of her, but Jina was already too busy doing everything her friend told her not to do to care about that.

 

The detective grabs her newly fixed drink and lols her way out of her stool out of sheer boredom.

 

As she sips from her small straw, Jina observes how a major part of the people in this place behaves in an almost animalistic way. She feels the heat of their bodies as she moves across the dancefloor, and every beat that erupts from the large speakers leaves an effect in her whole body. 

 

Even when drunk, she tries her best to turn a blind eye to the little packages of poison being handed around to focus on herself just for tonight. She tries to focus on the music instead, and how so fucking good the drink that hits her tongue feels as it goes down her throat. The voice in her head is nowhere to be found, and that only pushes Jina to let go more.

 

A pair of hands wrap around her waist somewhere along the line, and she let it. She feels a hot breath on the back of her neck whilst she lets the person behind her guide her hips to fall into a steady rhythm with theirs. She leans back into a sturdy chest, and a dazed smile makes its way onto her flushed face.

 

This is nice.

 

Jina turns around and is met with a pair of dark eyes that immediately fall on her own. “Hey, pretty.”

 

And she can’t help but giggle at the low voice.

 

Well, her mom did always tell her that she’s lucky and she never believed her, but tonight she might believe her just enough to ditch Chungha and let the man in front of her fuck the stress out of her. 

 

For all she knows he could be an idol and the dark lights are making it hard for Jina to recognize him, but she sure as hell knows that he’s handsome enough to make her stop and stare.

 

“Hi.”

 

“Oh, look at you,” The man eyes the drink in her hand whilst he pulls her closer. “It’s not even midnight and you’re wasted.”

 

They keep moving to the rhythm of the song playing, and Jina leans in for him to hear her clearly. “Well, you know what they say. It’s never too early to drink the pain away.”

 

He gives her a confused look, a smirk playing on his lips. “Who said that?”

 

“I did,” Jina chuckles, and the way his eyes follow her movement makes her body feel just a little hotter. “But it is true! Last time I checked there were no rules for drinking, were there?”

 

“Are you usually this talkative or is it the alcohol?”

 

“Both,” Jina shouts over the music. “What? You don’t like people who talk back?”

 

“Well,” He starts and grabs her drink from her hands. “Depends on the situation. Here, I don’t mind it. In bed, though…” He raises an eyebrow, and Jina inches even closer. He gulps the remains of her drink to look down at her again. “It’s a little more complicated than that.”

 

“And how is that?”

 

“I guess the only way to know is for you to find out yourself.”

 

Finally. A solid enjoyable thing for the first time in a while.

 

“I thought you’d never ask.”

 

He leans in.“Wanna get out of here?” 

 

Her giggles finally fade to a little smirk. She grabs his shirt to bring him closer. Something drops in the atmosphere and Jina feels it twist in her abdomen.  She tilts her head up to look at him.

 

 “Why don’t you wait for me by the exit?” Their faces are so close that she can feel his breath on her cheek. Her voice is breathy when she speaks again. “I’ll be right with you, yeah?”

 

“Don’t keep me waiting, pretty,” He gives her hips a little squeeze, and it makes Jina’s stomach flutter in excitement. His voice drops a little. “I don’t like waiting.”

 

She lets go of him and steps back, and they lock unspoken promises in their gazes until Jina turns back, feeling her blood buzz wildly under her hot skin. She walks to where she remembers the bar is eagerly, grabbing her phone from her pocket.

 

Jina leans on the bar when she reaches it and calls for the bartender. She calls for one more drink as she puts her phone to her ear, the sound of the rings barely audible because of the loud bass engulfing the area, but that doesn’t make her hang up.

 

it’s been almost forty minutes since Chungha’d disappeared, and Jina won’t be leaving until she gives her a piece of her mind.

 

At least try to. She doesn’t think she can hold a straight face at this point.

 

When the bartender gives her the drink, she leans in. “Yuh—You remember the person that...that was with me a while ago, right?” She yells, and the bartender nods despite her interrupting hiccups. “She’ll be paying, alright? if she asks about me tell her that she’s gonna get her ass beaten.”

 

“I-I can’t say that—“

 

The rest of his sentence is drowned by the music and the unanswered rings in her ear. Jina stumbles away and takes a sip from her drink, her eyes scanning the crowd for one specific face that she is yet to find.

 

Soon, though, the detective stops walking, her phone slowly lowering from her ear and her eyes lock on something in front of her.

 

She falls upon the dark pathway that Chungha previously disappeared into, and she can barely fight the urge to walk right in there to find her herself before she gives in and starts to move.

 

The red, blue, pink, and purple lights keep flashing and fading into each other around her until she enters, then they slowly morph into a steady red color the more she walks.

 

 At the end of the long hallway, she finds a staircase leading downwards. 

 

“What the…'' Jina lets out, and the thumps of her combat boots can be heard over the fading music. 

 

She stumbles the first few steps down. Noticing that she’s close to losing her balance, she stretches her free hand to the side to grab the railing attached to the wall. Through her blurry gaze, Jina spots a figure at the end of the staircase, and that figure starts to slowly look up to where she stands.

 

“Who is this?”

 

“Oop, hi,” The detective hiccups, nowhere near sober. Even after the recent events. “My friend came here and she’s-...she’s late. Can you— can you get her for me?”

 

By the time she finished her uneven speech, she had stumbled successfully all the way down the stairs without falling.

 

The man is taller than her and of larger build, dressed all black with an earpiece in his left ear. Looks very much like a bodyguard.

 

Of course, he is. Why would he be standing here if he isn’t?

 

“I’m afraid you’ve got the wrong place, Miss.” He tells her in a formal, almost robotic tone.

 

“I don’t think so,” She giggles back, taking a step forward so she’s almost pressed up against him. She gestures for him to lean down to tell him something, and when he does, she whispers. “I know about the criminal stuff. You don’t have to worry. I’m just gonna tell her something and go.”

 

Jina leans back with a sweet, sleepy smile on her face and she battles her eyelids innocently at him, but her little scheme must be failing because his eyes remain cold and emotionless as he stares down at her. 

 

“I said you’ve got the wrong place, Miss.”

 

“For god’s sake,” Jina snorts with a roll of her eyes. The woman decides to push her way past him but fails once more. The guard blocks her way of getting to the yellow-lit, fancy-looking elevator right in front of them.

 

Once she feels his hands on her, she pushes him away in disgust. A splashing sound is clear in her ear when a bit of her drink falls to the ground. A look of disbelief plasters itself to her face as she looks down at the wasted liquor. 

 

“Look what you did!”

 

“If you don’t leave right now, I’m gonna have to make you leave.” 

 

“The fuck are you being so rude for?!” She exclaims, eyes wide. “You waste my fucking drink and for what?! I just wanna get my fucking friend and go!”

 

“Leave.” His voice is dripping with venom. He steps way too close to her liking “Now.”

 

Jina is known for taking her time before doing something. Everyone knows that she takes the information in and sorts it out in her head first before acting on it, but she’s the exact opposite of that when she has her favorite type of poison in her system. 

 

And it’s a problem.

 

The woman has zero to no control over what she does, and before she knows it, she is pulling her hand back and slamming the glass against the side of the man’s head harshly.  Both of them let out different groans of pain, but he’s the only one that falls down to the floor. He has his hands on his head whilst he lets out howls of pain that Jina decides to ignore.

 

She doesn’t waste any more time and hurries to the elevator. She tries to ignore the sharp pain that strikes up the palm of her hand and presses on the only button present. From the corner of her eye, she can see the bodyguard start to push himself off of the ground. 

 

But the doors weren’t as fast as Jina hoped they would be. He manages to squeeze between the closing doors and push Jina forcibly to the back of the elevator, feeling the floor beneath them shake from the impact. 

 

Jina didn’t think the consequences would come to bite her ass this quickly, so she just stares at his bleeding face with alert eyes.

 

“You’re fucking dead, you bitch!” The guard growls in fury, and the doors behind him close. 

 

Jina only snaps from her trance when she feels the elevator descend, and she head-butts him. He stumbles back ever so slightly, but his head is thrown back with yet another shrike of pain.  She takes a small step away from the back of the elevator. A strike of pain trails up her spine from the impact of the push, but she only receives more pain when the man, without notice, raises a hand and lets it fall on one of her cheeks with a loud smacking sound.

 

Jina falls pitifully on the metallic ground. Her cheek stings awfully, and a harsh flame trails up her right hand, one that she fell on.

 

She supports herself with her left hand to bring up the other one in front of her face. Her whole body tenses up with more distress when she notices the piece of glass that’s sticking out of the skin of her palm, with crimson trailing down her upper arm almost artistically. 

 

She tries not to make a sound, but the detective can’t help but let out a choked moan of pain.

 

The guard towers over her and pants rapidly. Blood is trailing down his nose and temple, and soon, it stains the button-up shirt he’s wearing underneath his dark blazer.

 

Jina opens her mouth to throw a curse at the man, but she’s soon cut off by the ‘ting’ that announces their arrival at their unknown destination.

 

The guard turns his back to her and faces the now open doors, still panting just as hard. He bows his head slightly at the person outside of it.

 

Jina looks up at the space in front of her and her heart quickly sinks to her stomach as she makes out the figure beyond the elevator doors.

 

A gun is pointed, that's the first thing she sees. However, her vision stays blurry for more time than she liked. She blinks repeatedly for a couple of seconds in an attempt to straighten her vision again, but when she does, she wishes she didn’t.

 

In fact, she wishes she wasn’t even here at all.

 

She wasn’t expecting to see familiar eyes staring down at her.

 

“Detective?!”

 

The voice rings in Jina’s ears. It makes the situation settle down in her malfunctioning brain.

 

Recognition falls on her eyes and she lets out a sound of puzzlement. She scans the man’s face over and over again, secretly hoping that he’s just a look-alike, but it only makes him look more real.

 

It’s Jeongguk. One of the people that were with Hoseok the day he came to the cafe. The one Taehyung told her about just a couple of days ago.

 

His eyes furrow in what seems to be a mix between shock and confusion. His eyes trail up to the panting guard towering over her again, his lip parting slightly as he slowly takes in the scene in front of him.

 

“Jeongguk, what—”

 

“Hyung…”

 

Jina’s senses perk up and goosebumps run all over her body once she manages to recognize the second voice that suddenly booms into the short-ish hallway.

 

When Jung Hoseok appears from around the corner, the detective’s breath hitch.

 

“Sir,” The guard bows down. He sounds out of breath. He reaches a hand out to the side to provide a little balance to his dizzy head. “She kept insisting on coming down here, I tried to stop her—”

 

“Jina?” Hoseok mumbles, taking slow, confused steps past Jeongguk; who, on the other hand, starts to lower his gun with a tilted head and a demented expression. “What the fuck?”

 

Hoseok’s voice comes out low as if it’s only meant for him to hear, but everyone else hears him clearly.

 

And Jina has to agree. What the fuck.

 

Hoseok pushes his own gun to the back of his pants. He marches in wide, hurried steps to the elevator, and the look on his face would’ve made Jina giggle if she wasn’t in pain.

 

“She was trying to go in by force, sir—”

 

“Are you okay?” Hoseok pushes past the guard, immediately reaching down to support Jina back up to her feet. The woman lets out a breathy whine as he pulls her up by her biceps. 

 

His eyes stay glued to where blood is slowly leaking out from on the palm of her hand.

 

“Huh?” Jina looks at the guard’s stunned face. His eyes are wide as he stares at the back of his boss’s head.

 

“Jina?”

 

At this point, she doesn’t even know if she’s drunk or sober, or if she’s just hallucinating all of this from the unhealthy amount of alcohol she’d consumed earlier.

 

She looks back at Hoseok. “I’m fine--”

 

The detective barely has any time to finish talking before her mouth falls open in a loud gasp, then the sound of glass clinking on the floor rings in the elevator. She looks down where Hoseok had her hand in his, and her eyes fall on the open gash on her poor, poor palm.

 

Hoseok pulls out a dark bandana from the inside of his grey blazer and wraps it immediately around her hurting hand. Jina lets out a pained moan when he ties a knot to keep it from falling . She brings her other hand to her wrist, flinching away from the man in front of her absentmindedly.

 

But Hoseok doesn’t let go of her hand when he’s done. 

 

He looks up to her face instead, eyes involuntary falling on the red patch of skin on the detective’s face.

 

He lets out silently. “Shit.”

 

Hoseok reaches for her jaw to gently tilt her face for a better look, and Jina flinches ever so slightly again when he touches just underneath the sensitive skin to inspect the damage done by one of his men with a deepening scowl. 

 

When Jina swallows, he brings his gaze to hers.

 

He glances at the guard. “What the hell happened here?” 

 

“As I said, sir, she was trying to force herself in. I was only doing my job. No one told me there will be new-comers—”

 

Hoseok turns to Jina once more. “Why were you trying to force yourself in?”

 

“I…” 

 

Jina’s gaze jumps from the guard to Jeongguk, until it finally settles on the man before her. She breathes in slowly, and for the first time of the night, her brain slowly tries to process what’s going on as she stares into Hoseok’s eyes. The man does nothing but takes in her appearance as he waits like it would answer his still unanswered question.

 

She doesn’t look so well. 

 

The detective has blood running down her hand, for starters. The jeans she has on are ripped at the knee, showing a fresh, inflamed scrap that is irritating to just look at. One shoulder of her leather jacket, along with flannel underneath falls to her bicep messily to show the bare skin that her top barely covers, and Hoseok can’t help the thought that flows in his head at the sight.

 

“Were you undercover?!”

 

“What?!” Jina’s voice is more high-pitched than it should’ve been. “No! Why would I be?”

 

“You’re...” Hoseok frowns with a quick tilt of his head. He starts to step back. “Dressed differently…”

 

And since he didn’t give a warning before doing so, Jina immediately loses her balance. Her face almost high-fives the floor once more if it wasn’t for Hoseok’s hands grabbing her again. He begins to pull her out of the elevator shortly after that.

 

The security guard lets out a frustrated breath. Hoseok looks back at him.

 

“Go get your face fixed up and send someone in your place.” His tone change makes Jina look up at him. “I need you in my office tomorrow.”

 

“But, sir-”

 

“I said. What I said.” He speaks slowly, sending a death glare to the guard, who straightens up and looks down from his eyes. 

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

Then, Hoseok pulls Jina away from the elevator and to the end of the hallway, which ends with a glass sliding door. Jeongguk speeds before them, raising his hand up to the glass. It outlines the shape of his hand in red, then it flashes green, and the door starts to open.

 

“Woah…” Jina lets out thoughtlessly, her eyes wide with amazement.  

 

The sound makes Jeongguk look back at her for a few moments with a little smirk that he doesn’t try to hide, and Hoseok sighs when they step past the now opened door.

 

Jina can tell why. She can basically feel the amount of attention that’s suddenly thrown on them the moment they appear, but Hoseok doesn’t stop walking. Even after feeling how the woman in his arms tenses up like a string.

 

First one to react is Yoongi, who suddenly sprains out of his seat. His mouth forms a little ‘o’ as he stares at the trio that is making their way over, and he can’t help but start to walk towards them as well.

 

“What the…”

 

Jina slowly inspects the faces in front of her, some familiar, and some aren’t. She can recognize Yoongi and Taehyung just fine, along with the other person that was with them the other day.

 

Seokjin.

 

There’s a woman standing among them, but she looks nothing like Chungha, and Jina feels her stomach twist at the absence of the face she originally came looking for.

 

The area’s kinda dark, modern themed, full of muted, yet colorful shades. To their right is a bar, one that looks like the one in the club itself. Seokjin and the woman stood there, frozen in place. 

 

To the center of the room is a couple of stairs that lead to a circular lounge area, where 8 differently shaped chairs in completely different colors are placed. Taehyung’s at the left side of the room, standing with a phone slowly lowering from his ear with his back to a large, dark piano. To his front is a long meeting table, that looks like people just got up from judging by the miskept chairs and half-empty cups of various drinks that lay on top of it. 

 

Slowly, everyone else’s expressions mirror Yoongi’s.

 

“Jina?” Taehyung calls, shock clear in his voice. He, then, looks at Hoseok, who meets his gaze with a frown of clear frustration. “What the hell is going on here?”

 

Hoseik drags the detective down the two stairs and lowers her in a random chair.

 

“Yeah, Jina,” Hoseok starts, finally straightening up his posture to cross his hands in front of him in question. “What the hell is going on here?”

 

“I…” Jina looks around, eyes jumping from one person to another. “I was looking for someone—” She cut herself off, eyes finally settling on Yoongi’s. “Ch-Chungha... She… I was looking for Chungha…”

 

“Chungha?” Jeongguk lets out quietly. He, too, looks at Yoongi with confused eyes.

 

“Why would you be looking for her?” Hoseok inquiries with a frown. “And how the hell did you hurt yourself like that?”

 

“I… buh-broke my g-glass on his head…” Jina brings her injured hand to her chest as if she remembered again that it hurt, and gestures with her other hand behind her to refer to the guard. She glances at Taehyung briefly, then looks back at Hoseok. “Then he hit me, and… and I f-fell.”

 

“You’re looking for Chungha?” Yoongi repeats. He steps closer to where she’s seated. Jina nods in reply, and the man lets out a loud, confused “Why?”

 

“Fuck…” Taehyung mutters and slides both his hands down his face. “I should’ve realized that earlier.”

 

The woman next to Seokjin crosses her arms over her chest. “Care to elaborate?”

 

“Chungha’s friend,” He looks back and forth between where Jina and Hoseok are, and her. “The detective that helped her out of that case. It’s Jina.”

 

“What’s going on?” Jina hesitantly asks and returns her gaze to Hoseok, who’s looking at Taehyung with parted lips and empty eyes.

 

“Chungha said she’s bringing a friend tonight,” As Taehyung continues, Yoongi lets out a long breath and raises a hand to stressfully run it in his dark hair. “She said she’ll have to leave earlier—”

 

“This is way too much for me to take in at once.” Jeongguk comments.

 

Seokjin steps out from behind the bar. He gives Yoongi a look.“What are they doing now?” 

 

“They’re still with showing them around—”

 

“Wait.”

 

Everyone brings their attention to Jina.

 

“Wait…” She looks away from everyone and onto the floor. Her eyebrows furrow and she holds her breath. Everyone sees the exact point the realization downs on her like a bucket of ice, and her eyes fill with dread. “Chungha… Chungha works for you?”

 

She brings her gaze to Hoseok’s again, but he stays silent.

 

“You’re the gang I covered up for…”

 

Everyone else is quiet whilst the newly-found info settles in among them, and Hoseok holds her gaze for a little more. Jina blinks a couple of times and looks away, only for Hoseok to notice how glossy her eyes suddenly became. He shares a look with Yoongi.

 

“She...She’s m-my best friend, th-though…”

 

“Dear God,” Seokjin sighs and drops in the seat beside hers.

 

Something stings in Hoseok’s chest again, and it locks in the more he looks at her sad glazed eyes once more. It’s quite similar to the look she had just the night before, but Hoseok guesses that the alcohol is doing a poor job in helping her suppress her emotions.

 

“How many drinks have you had?” Hoseok asks, but his voice isn’t as demanding as it was just minutes ago.

 

“No,” Jina gestures with her hand. Side conversations start to arise, she can hear the faint sound of voices around her. Only Hoseok, Yoongi, and Taehyung stay glued in front of her.  “Buh-but she’s too good t-to wuh-work for you--”

 

“I think she’s wasted,” Yoongi states. He runs a hand down his face. “She’s gonna cry.”

 

The detective turns to Taehyung. “You’re t-too good to work for them too…”

 

Hoseok squats down and reaches out to grab her by the face.  Her cheeks are hot under his skin as he makes her look at him. She flinches just a little bit when he comes in contact with the reddening skin on her left cheek.

 

“How many drinks have you had, Jina?”

 

“I-I don’t know,” She lets out shakily. “W-where’s Chungha?”

 

“She’s gonna fucking cry,” Yoongi repeats, looking at Hoseok as if to tell him to do something.

 

“D-Did something h-happen to--”

 

“She’s fine, Jina. Relax.” Taehyung puts a hand on her shoulder. Her eyes trail up to his as he tries to give her a reassuring smile. “She just went out to do something with another friend of ours. Nothing to worry about.” 

 

Jina gives a little nod and lets out a trembling breath. She tries her best not to burst right then and there and attempts to swallow the lump that managed to form in her throat.

 

Taehyung looks at Hoseok for help, and fuck, doesn’t he look just as lost.

 

“She kinda needs to get out of here before they come back,” Yoongi says. He shoves his hands in the pockets of his pants and eyes Jina as she tries to take in another breath, looking at her shaking hands.

 

“She’s my best friend.” Hoseok dislikes how lost the woman looks. He’s still squatted in front of her as she gives Yoongi a look with glossy eyes.“She’s not a bad person, she’s my best friend. S-she’s not a bad person, is she?”

 

The man freezes under her gaze. After a couple of seconds, he looks at his friends with a silent cry for help, to which they remain silent to keep staring at him and wait for his reply. The process seemed to have lasted for a little too long because when he looks back at Jina, a look of pure heartbreak paints itself on her paling face.

 

“N-no,” Yoongi finally lets out falteringly. “She’s not a bad person. Don’t worry.”

 

In reply, Jina nods her head thrice and looks down at her injured hand briefly, before raising her eyes to Hoseok’s again.

 

He doesn’t understand how this is the same person that was all loud with her threats the other day. She looks so small like this. Like a deer that accidentally fell in a lion’s den, and maybe that’s the case to her. He doesn’t see the same intensity he’s always seen in her eyes. He sees exhaustion flowing in bloodshot eyes, and Hoseok doesn’t like the way he wants to reach for her face again.

 

Because, again, the lurking feeling tugs at his brain, and maybe he knows exactly what it is now.

 

“Uh...Hyung,” Jeongguk calls from behind them and taps Yoongi on his back. Hoseok looks back at him and sees the way the younger squints his eyes at the woman before them briefly. “They’re on their way back.”

 

“I’m gonna take her home,” Hoseok decides aloud and grabs one of her biceps. He stands and pulls her up with him, his other hand shooting to steady her wobbly figure. “I probably won’t make it back on time so just wrap this up and go.”

 

“B-but Chungha—”

 

Fuck, she sounds as small as she looks.

 

“Chungha’s busy,” Hoseok tells Jina and begins to drag her towards the exit. “She’s gonna go see you tomorrow—fuck.”

 

It seems that Hoseok’s steps were a little too hurried for Jina’s disconnected brain to handle, allowing her to stumble on one of the steps and fall to her knees. Her bicep slips out of his grasp, but he still managed to grab her wrist even if it was already too late.

 

It turns quiet again, everyone watching the pair of them. 

 

Hoseok looks down at her.

 

Jina just sits there helplessly. Her gaze gets blurrier than a few minutes ago and the room spins sickeningly around her. She plants her free hand on the cold porcelain floor. Her droopy eyes trail up to the man frozen in front of her, then a loud hiccup rocks her body.

 

Hoseok closes his eyes and exhales. “Can you walk?”

 

“I…” Jina looks down at herself. “I’m not so sure.”

 

“For god’s sake…” Hoseok mumbles grumpily and drops his head to his chest. With a sigh, the man turns around to give Jina his bared back and squats down before her. “Hop on.”

 

When he feels her move behind him, he pulls the wrist he has in his hand over his shoulder. She pushes her weight on his back and brings her other hand over his shoulder. He gets up again and shrugs to pull her upwards even more then he shoots his arms backward to wrap her thighs securely around his torso, but she does the job herself and clings onto him like a koala would.

 

Hoseok starts to move when he makes sure that she isn’t going to fall. He stops before the glass door and waits for the sensor to detect him until it opens with a huff. Jina sniffles lightly as he passes them through.

 

“Did I cause trouble?”

 

“Did you cause trouble?” Hoseok chuckles sarcastically. “No, not at all.”

Jung Hoseok is not exactly a social man. He has solid reasons behind the fact that he hasn’t made any intimate contact with anyone outside of his inner circle. He doesn’t exactly know how to behave unless he’s with them, because he never even thought he would have to. 

 

The traits he’s publicly known for in the underground world isn’t exactly who he grew up to be. Yes, it’s all a big part of his personality; but at the end of the day, behind closed doors with the company of the people he loves the most, he isn’t such an asshole as he always puts himself out to be. 

 

At least he doesn’t think so.

 

He didn’t think he knew how to show actual care unless it’s for them, but yet again, he doesn’t know why he decided to take Jina to the hospital before taking her home.

 

 After all, it was the decent thing to do, right?

 

But under their circumstances and how the pair of them have treated each other since the very first time they met, it isn’t such an ‘I hate you and I hope you get eaten by a T-rex’ kind of behavior.

 

At the emergency room, he has to sit beside Jina to hold her up straight while a nurse stitches up her wounded palm. He doesn’t understand whether she’s conscious or not, but he can hear soft grunts coming out of her every now and then. 

 

Jina has her head rested on Hoseok’s left shoulder, his left hand placed on her motionless bicep while his other hand holds her other shoulder to prevent her from falling. He’d feel her muscles tensing up under his touch when she flinches away in pain, but she’s handling it better than an average person would without anesthesia.

 

Her makeup doesn’t look so ruined, but black tear stains were left on her rosy cheeks from when she started fully sobbing back in Hoseok’s car.

 

“Why are you crying, now?”

 

“Why does she have to work with you of all people?” The detective whines, holding her injured hand to her chest. She looks at him as he sighs out, “This is so frustrating!”

 

“Yeah, tell me about it,” Hoseok responds lazily. He rests his head in the palm of his hand whilst resting his left elbow on the window frame.

 

Since the incident, they all knew that Chungha had befriended the officer that saved her life and worked on busting the gang that did that to her and the others. They’ve all warned her about the fact that it’d be dangerous for her to get involved with a police officer, but she was always so persistent in keeping her close. 

 

Every time someone brought it up, she just went on about how they needed to trust her more to not let anything slip in front of her.

 

Chungha never gave them a name so they could look her up and proceeded into keeping Jina as her own little secret, telling them how she didn’t trust them enough not to stir up something to separate them.

 

And she wasn’t wrong for that because that’s exactly what they were going to do.

 

Hoseok won’t admit it but now that he knows that Jina was the one that saved Chungha and kept them from exposure through the investigation, he can’t help but feel a little grateful for her.

 

Just a little bit.

 

He still remembers the way the air was constantly sickeningly thick everywhere around him when Chungha was nowhere to be found. Everyone was hysterically tearing South Korea apart to find traces that she could’ve left, and dread sunk in further when they received the news that the boat she was on never sailed and was busted by the government. 

 

All the victims on board were announced safe, but they never found Chungha.

 

When days stretched into weeks and there were still no leads, everyone was fully convinced that she was dead. It was the first time they felt actual loss among them, and they didn’t even have a body to mourn upon.

 

It wasn’t until Jina busted the gang leader that had managed to escape a week later that Yoongi called Hoseok in the middle of the night to tell him that Chungha was right in front of him.

 

Hoseok remembers the way he had a hand on his heart until he could see her for himself too. 

 

She told them about how the officer that found her took her to the hospital for help, then hid her in her own home until the investigation was closed so she was safe to return.

 

And the pair of them still fail to understand why they trusted each other so much back then.

 

Chungha told Jina what happened and how she ended up there. No matter what she did, she couldn’t avoid some parts that revealed the nature of her involvement in the situation, and that it wasn’t exactly legal. It was inevitable.

 

But, thanks to her, Jina was able to find the scumbag that almost killed her, and got a promotion out of it too.

 

At that thought, Hoseok can’t help but feel a bit more hatred towards the detective being lifted off of him. Maybe that’s why he thoughtlessly brought her to the hospital.

 

He had to carry her on his back again from the emergency room to his car, even though Jina was awake and mumbling about how much her hand hurt drunkenly.

 

Well, half awake.

 

When they get there, Hoseok squats down a little so she can sit down in the passenger seat of his car. Once she’s off his back, he turns around and grabs the seat belt to buckle it for her, earning a confused pout from Jina who looks at him with furrowed eyebrows.

 

“Why are you being nice to me?”

 

Hoseok stops moving halfway and turns his head to look at her.

 

“What?”

 

“Why are you being nice to me?” Jina repeats while tilting her head to the side in question, all droopy-eyed.

 

“Do you want me to leave you on the street with a bleeding hand?” He asks, a hint of sarcasm hanging at the edge of his voice. “Let alone that you’re piss-drunk. Because if you want that, I won’t really stop you.”

 

“No, no…” She lets out softly and puts a hand to his chest. As if that would stop him from throwing her out of the car. “I wah… I wanna go home, pl-please.”

 

Jina flutters her eyes closed, and Hoseok tries to ignore the hand on his chest as he buckles her seatbelt. She lets her head fall back on the headrest with a little thump, then, Hoseok feels the hand touching him fall to her lap instead.

 

He doesn’t know how much she drank, but he knows for sure that she is way past sobering up. By the time he was in the driver’s seat, Jina had already fallen asleep. 

 

It’s quite late, so he thankfully meets no traffic whatsoever on his way to where he remembers Jina lives. 

 

Hoseok would spare the woman next to him a glance every now and then, and at some point, a conspicuous thought flashes in his head, and he involuntarily lets it sink. He can’t unsee the way Jina looks so harmless as she sleeps.

 

There’s ruined mascara shadowing under her eyes and onto her cheeks, and her hair is miskept ever so slightly, but Hoseok kind of likes it when she’s not frowning.

 

Or crying, for the matter.

 

Her whole face is completely relaxed. No wrinkling frowns or angry words coming out of her bow-shaped lips.

 

Jina looks...nice.

 

Hoseok is thankful for the incoming call that buzzes through his phone before his mind takes him someplace else. He looks at the screen below the dashboard to see the caller ID. Jimin’s name is spelled out in bold, and Hoseok lowers the volume first before answering the call.

 

“Hyung, is everything okay?”

 

“Yes,” Hoseok keeps his voice low and soft, only hoping that Jimin could hear him. “Did it go well?”

 

“Yeah,” Jimin tells him. “Did you take the detective home yet?” 

 

“I’m on my way there right now. I had to stop by the hospital first because she injured her hand—”

 

“Yeah, they told me,” The younger sighs. Hoseok can hear shuffling in the background. Maybe they’re just finishing up now. “It’s nice of you, Hyung.”

 

“Yeah,” He lets out and looks beside him at the woman that remains asleep. “She brought Chungha back to us, after all.”

 

“Maybe go a little easier on her now, will you?”

 

“Shut up, Park Jimin.”

 

Hoseok earns a giggle back from him. The sound brings a little smile to his face for the first time of the night, and he’s thankful because he feels a little stress flow away from him. 

 

The cheerfulness in his voice remains. “Alright, I’ll call to check-in in a while to see if you’re home. Talk soon!”

 

Hoseok hums out in reply before he hears the click of the call ending. He taps a finger on the wheel absentmindedly and relaxes, scarcely so, in his seat. Seconds later, from the corner of his eye, Hoseok sees Jina’s head move from one side to another. 

 

He looks over to see a very faint scowl plastered on her face. She mumbles something incoherent, and Hoseok frowns. He looks back and forth between her and the road before them, then Jina mumbles something again.

 

“What?” Hoseok leans towards her a bit.

 

“Mi…” He hears her breath out.

 

“Is she dreaming?” Hoseok mumbles to himself slowly. “Jina?”

 

When he looks back at her one last time, he watches as her shoulders go up and down at a steady pace, but she never replies.

It starts raining heavily right before they arrive, and Jina completely refuses to wake up no matter what Hoseok does.

 

And this isn’t even the worst part.

 

He decides that he will carry her again, in the pouring rain, to run to the gates of her house, and Jina still doesn’t wake up.

 

Yet again, not the worst part.

 

Hoseok slides Jina off of his back and quickly pulls her close to him by the waist so she doesn’t fall out of his hands. He whispers out a curse. Pulling her flush against him with one hand, he uses the other to press the button in the intercom.

 

“Jina,” Hoseok calls. He pats one of her flushed cheeks lightly and calls her name once more, but her head only falls back and her lips part slightly from each other. “Jesus… Jina!”

 

And now, her mom isn’t answering the fucking door. The chances of her not being inside are zero, it’s two in the morning, so she must be sleeping. So he presses the button again.

 

He prays that Daeun heard him and is just taking her fair time getting to the door because God only knows that he has so little energy under the pouring rain and it is starting to run out. But, a minute passes, and he’s still standing with a passed out woman’s head resting on his shoulder. He begins to feel restless.

 

“God, no…” Hoseok whines and presses the button again then brings his free hand to one of Jina’s jacket pockets in search of a key that could let them in, but he fails to find any in either of her pockets. With a loud groan, he adjusts her in her arms, his eyes following the movement of her head as it lols to the other side.“Please wake the fuck up. I’ll literally leave your drunk ass in the street.”

 

Then, he stares at her. And the reality of the situation at hand slaps him right across the face when thunder rolls.

 

Hoseok bends down a little so he puts an arm below the joints of her knees, swiftly lifting her off of the ground.

 

“Ah, fuck. My back...” He throws his head back with a grunt, his eyes squeezing shut in pain. He turns around and walks to his car again. “Oh, I hate you so much right now.”

 

Jina lets out a faint noise at that, and Hoseok sends her sleeping form a death glare. “Yes, I fucking hate you.”

 

Hoseok detests the fact that he has no other choice but to take her back to his own apartment. The drive there is around twenty minutes long, and Hoseok doesn’t stop cursing for a solid five seconds through it.

 

His own battery is running low now. He hasn’t slept in over twenty-four hours, and the effect took its damn time to appear until he wanted energy the most.

 

So, once he turns the engine of his car off in the parking lot of his building, he lets out the loudest sigh of relief, throwing his head back against the headrest whilst shutting his tired eyes closed. He stays in that position for a few seconds, before opening his eyes to look at the passed out figure beside him.

 

“How in the world are you still asleep?”

 

And he has to go through the whole process for the third time of the night.

 

Get out of his seat, go to hers, unbuckle her seatbelt, and pick her up from her seat, only this time his back was hurting too much for him to get her on it again, so he carries her bridal way once more instead.

 

Even calling the elevator is a fucking struggle.

 

Time stretches out the more he thinks about the warmth of dry clothes and the comfortableness of his awaiting bed as he stands impatiently in the ascending elevator, watching as the digital screen counts the floors as it goes up.

 

When the elevator doors open, he hurries out of it and to the end of the hall. The sight of his apartment door blows hope in his aching body. He lets out a pained groan when he has to raise his arms up to punch in the passcode and when the door opens,  it’s a race between Hoseok, gravity, and time.

 

He kicks his shoes off as quickly as possible and tumbles forwards. He only hopes to reach the guest room before he collapses on the damn ground. He kicks open the first door he meets in frustration, and seconds later, he finally throws the figure in his arms on the bed inside. 

 

The moment Jina is out of his arms, his hands reach behind him to grab his back. He lets out a loud pained moan and stretches backward yearningly.  He barely takes a second look at Jina before starting to stumble out of the room, a hand on his back and a face scrunched in pain.

 

“How much trouble could she possibly cause more now, for fuck’s sake...” Hoseok rumbles aloud and pushes the door to his own room open. A hand pushes his drenched hair out of his eyes, then he starts to strip himself naked of the soaked clothes on him whilst walking towards his bathroom. 

 

Hoseok allows himself the luxury of relaxing under the warm stream. He rests his forehead on the dripping wall in the shower and closes his eyes.

 

The water pressure is just right. It hits his head and back in a tickling sensation that’s rapid and relaxing, and he just lets himself stand there for a few minutes until his eyelids grow heavier, then he begins to clean himself.

 

When he’s done, he turns off the water and wraps a towel around his torso before exiting the bathroom to find something to wear to bed. With furrowed eye eyebrows and droopy eyes, he grabs the first thing he sees and starts to dry himself from the droplets still soaking his bare back.

 

But, as he does so, Hoseok drops his gaze to the towel in his hands, and something tugs at his brain and spoils the mood he’d managed to build up for the last few minutes.

 

Because, as he readies himself for a good night in his warm, dry bed, he’s leaving a soaked, drunk woman in the next room in a night as cold as this one. And she is just as soaked and cold as he was not so long ago.

 

Or maybe even colder than he was, considering her very...minimalistic choice of fashion despite the coldness of winter.

 

It isn’t something he hadn't seen on a woman before, hell, he’d even say that this is kinda modest, but he didn’t think that it’d be something he’d see on the angry, potty-mouthed detective.  

 

A pair of dark, high waisted jeans, a damn lace top topped with flannel, and a leather jacket with combat boots. That fit isn’t exactly a match to the coats and bulletproof vests he’s only seen on her through the few times they’ve met.

 

Hoseok’s taken aback by the difference of attires, let alone the fact that she showed up at all.

 

Hoseok tries to push the thought away with a shake of his head. He throws on a sweatshirt and a pair of pajama pants and proceeds to dry his hair whilst stumbling to his bed tiredly, but he lets his hands fall from his hair and just stands beside it.

 

Not that he cares for her or anything, but he knows she’s going back to work tomorrow to start doing her end of the bargain, and she can’t exactly do that if she gets sick, can she?

 

Huffing like a child, Hoseok throws his head back with closed eyes and moves back to his closet. He picks out a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie along with a dry towel from one of the top drawers in his cabinet and starts to walk out of the room once more. Grumpy and all.

 

But he barely takes a step outside the door before he halts, his eyes falling to something on the floor.

 

“Jesus Christ!”

 

Sitting on the ground, Jina falls back on her butt instead of her knees with a horrified scream escaping her trembling lips. Only when her eyes trail up to his that he realizes that she’s been crying. Again.

 

“The fuck are you doing here?” Hoseok tries to slowly approach her.

 

“Hoseok?”

 

Recognition falls upon her bloodshot eyes and she lets out a loud breath. She looks a bit more relieved than a couple of seconds ago. She stares at him for a few more seconds, and her body trembles visibly. 

 

He steps closer. His tone softens involuntarily. “What are you doing out here?”

 

She tries to even her breathing to stop herself from hiccuping. “I f-uh...Fell. I fell.”

 

“So you started crying?”

 

“I thought...I thought…someone did something to me…” Jina sniffles, her hands raising to wipe her eyes whilst bringing her gaze downwards. She stays like this for a few seconds, bottom lip trembling awfully before her head snaps up to Hoseok again. Her eyes widen almost comically.

 

“Did you do something to me?!”

 

“Why would I do something to you?!” Hoseok shoots back in the same tone, disbelief taking over his whole face expeditiously.

 

Her eyes leisurely turn from panicked to sad. Jina keeps staring up at him for a couple of short moments before her eyes start glimmering again, with tears that are ready to be spilled.  She looks down with a sniffle and her face scrunches up again. Soon, a new tear escapes one of her tired eyes.

 

She still hasn’t sobered up.

 

Jina hides her face with her hands and her shoulders shake just a little. Just enough for Hoseok to notice the silent sob the rocks her body hardly at all.

 

Hoseok feels like an intruder once more. Someone like the detective wouldn’t want someone like him to watch them in such a weak state, and he understands that. Maybe that’s why she’s hiding her face away from him.

 

And he huffs out. He squats down to her level slowly, cautious not to make her feel anyhow threatened.

 

“Why are you crying now?”

 

“I’m so tired…” Hoseok barely understands the muffles that come out of her covered mouth, but he hears the cracking of her voice oh so clearly. “I-I woke up and i...and I don’t know w-where I am, I don’t have my gun-”

 

“Why...why would you want your gun?”

 

Jina snaps. “Well, I don't exactly feel safe around you, Jung Hoseok!”

 

Then, the hallway falls quiet. The pair of them just look at each other. For almost a minute, the only sound that fills the hallway is Jina’s slowing down intakes of breath, then she sniffles once again and raises a hand to brush her hair out of her flushed face before looking away.

 

Hoseok stays quiet. He doesn’t know how to reply to her statement, but he wouldn’t ask why because, either way, he knows exactly what her answer will be.

 

He feels bad.

 

He feels guilty. That’s the feeling he didn’t understand.

 

But oh boy, would he show that?

 

Jina’s body shivers continuously, and awkwardness fills the very oxygen they breathe in the more they stay quiet. Hoseok closes his eyes briefly. No snarky comebacks this time. He gets up from his position slowly, and her eyes never leave his movements. He walks to the guest room she was in until a few minutes ago.

 

After giving a quick look inside, he walks back out with a sigh.

 

“Can you walk?” Hoseok asks.

 

She meets his gaze for a moment then she tries to stand up, a pout on her lips.

 

It isn’t long before she loses her balance.

 

Jina lets out a loud moan, her hands grabbing each side of her head in pain as she sways on her feet. Her knees wobble and her world spins, but before gravity pulls her down once more, a pair of hands wrap snakily around her waist for support.

 

“It’s a no, then,” Hoseok replies to himself quietly, and brings her arm around his shoulder.

 

Jina hisses from the strikes of pain that shoot mercilessly in her head. The detective keeps her eyes closed helplessly with a grimace on her face. Her whole skull feels like someone keeps repeatedly hammering through it, and she has little to no energy to handle something like this. 

 

Hoseok urges her forwards to his room. He holds the clothes he picked out for her away so they don’t get soaked from her own clothes. Jina stumbles in his arms, unable to even reject his gentle pulls. 

 

The moment they enter, a sudden wave of nausea engulfs her insides and she flatters her heavy eyes open. Her good hand clenches around the fabric of Hoseok’s sweater. She tries to shake the dizziness away, but the process makes her feel even more light-headed than she already was. 

 

Jina whispers.“Hoseok…” 

 

“Hmm.”

 

“I...I don’t feel--”

 

Jina is cut off by her own gag. Her hand flies to her mouth reflexively. 

 

“Fuck,” Hoseok tosses the items in his hands away and drags her hurriedly to his bathroom. 

 

It’s still warm from the steam of his previous shower, and the sudden change of temperature doesn’t exactly help in Jina’s case. The moment she is down on her knees in front of the toilet bowl, she begins to empty her whole stomach. 

 

As a reflex, Hoseok finds himself holding her hair back when he notices how helplessly it falls on her face. He turns his face away from the scene. Half for privacy, half because he, too, started feeling nauseous.

 

But he can see how weakly she holds herself up. He feels how terribly her bones shake under his touch when he puts a hand on her back, thoughtlessly giving her little pats of support.

 

Hoseok doesn’t understand why he’s helping her to that extent, neither knows why he wants to help more.

 

But he does want to do more. He knows that much.

 

When Jina begins to calm down again, she closes the lid of the toilet bowl with a shaky hand. Hoseok reaches up to flush the toilet and picks her up by her bicep with his other hand to let her lean her body on the nearby sink. He sees the tired frown she has on her face when he looks in the mirror.

 

Hoseok’s left arm is wrapped around her waist to keep her up on her feet as he watches her in the mirror. Jina keeps looking down, seemingly unmoving for a couple of seconds, so he grabs her good hand and gently places it on the water tab. He keeps his hand on hers and pushes it upwards until they hear the sound of running water echo in the quiet bathroom.  

 

“Wash your face,” Hoseok lets out, although it came out more emotionlessly than he intended for it to be. “Come on.”

 

Jins sucks in a deep breath and plants her injured hand to the counter beside the sink with a little moan of pain. Hoseok keeps holding her when she bends down to get closer to the water, then he looks away from her figure in the mirror, only to look at the back of her head.

 

What the fuck am I doing right now?

 

After she finishes her business, she pushes the tab off, but she has no time to react before Hoseok sweeps her off of the ground swiftly and cautiously to walk back inside his room. He places her down on his bed. Jina’s hands fly to her face one more time.  

 

“What are you doing?”

 

“I feel so pathetic right now,” Jina tells him. Her voice is still shaky and unstable, but at least it’s calmer. 

 

And Hoseok kind of understands why she’d say that too. Instead of commenting on it, he remains quiet again. After all, this isn’t the time to be a dick when the woman can barely fucking walk by herself. 

 

Jina is fully vulnerable at the disposal of a man that has threatened her life since the very first moment he entered it. Of course, she would feel pathetic, and of course, Hoseok would be silenced by yet another rash of guilt that slaps him across the chest.

 

He clears his throat and reaches for the dry towel that’s laying on the bed. He places it on her head and it falls on her face. He stands there for a few quiet seconds, before, slowly and hesitantly, he places both his hands on top of the towel covering her head. 

 

Jina freezes under his touch.

 

“I got you a change of clothes.” Hoseok gently rubs the towel on her hair for a few seconds as a gesture for her to continue on her own before he steps away, but she remains frozen. One of his hands rises up to his nape. “...I’ll go get you some water and a pain killer while you change.”

 

Only when Jina hears the click of the door closing, that she finally begins to move. Slowly so.

 

She grabs the front of the towel he draped on her head with cold, shaky fingers and she pulls it off of her head. Her blurry gaze stays on the closed door for a few seconds. She blinks slowly whilst her mind malfunctions as it tries to keep up with the events that only kept occurring, and the remaining alcohol in her system isn't being very beneficial. 

 

Jina swallows, and one of her hands quickly snaps to her throat as it burns at the simple reflex.

 

Hoseok will be back with the water soon. That should help.

 

But why would he do that? That’s beyond her.

 

Maybe he’ll put poison in it or something.

 

Or maybe that’s her trust issues talking.

 

Jina looks at the change of clothes he left her, and her mind malfunctions all the more. The woman is straight out confused, and her head hurts to even try to think about why Jung Hoseok is treating her the way he is. Because he isn’t just being nice to her. He’s taking care of her the way a close person would, and she just doesn’t fucking understand.

 

It’s not like he threatened to kill her and her only remaining family on multiple occasions or anything.

 

And on top of that, this is the last thing she would expect from someone like him. From a gangster. A fucking Mafioso that rules the biggest underground network in South Korea and god knows where else.  

 

Nothing adds up.

 

Jina tries to push the mess to the back of her head and finally decides to change before Hoseok comes back. She lets out a moan at the pain in her tired muscles as she shakes off her leather jacket. She empties its pockets of her stuff and throws it to the floor, not wanting to get the bed wet. She feels bad about the dark makeup marks she leaves on the white towel when she dries her face, but she already feels disgusting as it is. She isn’t going to sleep with leftover makeup on her face.

 

The clothes Hoseok lent here are particularly oversized on her smaller body, but they’re extremely comfortable nonetheless. Frankly, she’s just glad she’s warm and clean again. How comfortable the clothes felt is just an extra.

 

And they are extremely fucking comfortable.

 

She leaves her clothes in a pile on the floor and hugs her arms around herself for extra warmth. Jina looks around her in the dimly lit room, her heavy eyes feeling even heavier now that she’s warm, but she keeps looking around when she acknowledges that this must be his room. It feels way more lively than the other room she woke up in. The color scheme is unclear since there isn’t much light in the room, but she spots different colors and she takes a mental note to try to look at them clearly in the morning.

 

No, wait. 

 

Why is she even here?

 

Not just in Hoseok’s room. Why is she here at all?

 

Jina flinches in surprise when Hoseok turns the doorknob with no warning and walks into the room, a glass of water in hand and a couple of pills in the other.

 

“Wh-what am I doing here?” She asked hastily. A lump forms painfully in her throat as she looks up at Hoseok, who meets her gaze momentarily. “Why didn’t you take me home?”

 

“You...don’t remember?” Hoseok inquiries slowly with a tilt of his head.

 

Jina gives him a questioning look. She shakes her head.

 

“I took you to the hospital first,” With the hand that’s holding the glass of water, he gestures to her right hand, and she looks down at it immediately. The area she vividly remembers having a piece of glass in is now bloodless and clean, covered with a white bandage. “Seokjin told me you had to get stitches so…”

 

Seokjin didn’t tell him anything.

 

“Oh…”

 

“Then I took you home, but no one was answering and you didn’t have keys on you.”

 

Jina stays quiet, and Hoseok watches as her bottom lip stretches out a little.

 

“Who the fuck leaves their house without their keys?”

 

“We have a passcode.”

 

“The gate doesn’t have a passcode.”

 

“There’s a spare key in the box above the speaker.”

 

Hoseok’s aware of his aching back again.

 

“There’s…” He trails off. His shoulders slump. “There’s what?”

 

“You should’ve looked,” Jina tells him. “My mom sleeps with earplugs.”

 

Hoseok inhales a sharp breath from his nose and closes his eyes. “I should’ve left you in the fucking rain.”

 

“Thank you, though.”

 

He opens his eyes at the words and looks down at her. Their gazes meet, and Hoseok looks a bit confused for a split second before his expression morphs into something else. Something tenderer. 

 

Jina clears her throat. The uneasy feeling of having a ball of fire inside of it is more crippling than earlier. She raises a hand to her throat again, grabbing the area as if to magically soothe the pain.

 

At that, Hoseok steps closer, extending both his hands out for her to take the water and meds he brought her. 

 

Jina gives the tablets a look, then she looks up at him.

 

“I’m not gonna kill you, Jina,” Hoseok speaks through a clenched jaw with a roll of his eyes. “They’re normal fucking pain killers. I’ll take them myself if you don’t since you insist on giving me a goddamn headache--”  

 

“Jeez, fine,” Jina says. 

 

She glances at him with a look of disapproval, to which he scoffs, then she grabs the things from his hands. She gives one last wary look to the pills before throwing them in her mouth. She swallows them with a gulp of water, and she almost moans at how good it feels as it puts out the fire in her throat.

 

“You can sleep here for tonight. The other bed is too wet for you to sleep in.” Hoseok informs her. He grabs her bicep to pull her a few inches up, and Jina freezes when she realizes how close he pulled her towards him. He pushes the duvet she previously sat on away then sits her down once more. He meets her droopy gaze.“I’ll text Jeongsu and tell him that you’ll be going in late tomorrow, so sleep as much as you want.”

 

“I can’t. I have work--”

 

“Work I gave you, yes,” Hoseok cuts her off. He gives her shoulder a tiny push, and that was all she needed to fall back on his bed. Jina pulls her legs up with the last bit of energy she has in her .“And I’m also the one telling you to sleep in and go in the afternoon.”

 

“Chungha-”

 

“She’ll come to see you when you wake up.” 

 

Hoseok’s voice is the softest she’s heard come out of him so far. It might just be the remaining alcohol in her system, but Jina could like this version of him better.

 

“I’ll be down the hall if you need me,” He says and pulls the covers over her body. She shifts under it for exactly two seconds until she stills, and her eyes flutter closed. With one last glance, he starts to move backward. “Goodnight.”

 

His hand settled on the light key beside the door, ready to close it and call it a night.

 

“Hoseok?”

 

He turns to Jina again.

 

“Don't turn off the light.”

 

"Why?"

 

"I don't like it when it's dark."

 

Notes:

and there is that. kinda feel bad for hoseok's back.
but yeah uwu next chaper is really important and will probably shift a lot of things around, so keep a watch out!! I'll try to update as soon as possible but please wish me luck in my finals bc little joy here is about to lose her fucking mind<3
Thank you for those who comment and leave kudos:( you guys really make my day every time <3
Thank you for reading! See you next time<3

Chapter 6: sei

Summary:

“Let’s move you to the bed, hmm?” Jina’s voice is so soft. It’s so fucking soft and tender. “You look so tired.”

“Let’s just…” The words barely make it out of his mouth. “...stay like this for a while.”

Notes:

HELLOOOO!! longer update today woohooo!
I also changed some stuff in the tags so make sure to give them a look!

TRIGGER WARNING!! There is a detailed scene of a panic attack... so if this triggers you, you can skip from "Jina flinches at the loud thud that yanks her out of dreamland." until "Slow pants of air leave his lips, letting Jina’s own physical tension finally be released."
:] heh.
SO!! updates might be even slower until like... march 17th because... yall uni life sucks but i'll try my best <3 The story picks up the pace from here so...buckle up!! :D
also reminder to go to my twt @EB0YSOPE if u wanna keep up with the updates! <3
your feedback and kudos make my whole day<3
So...let's get into it!!

Cold mornings are cherishable. 

 

The city isn’t awake yet. Everything is still and calm, and as unfamiliar as it feels, it’s still comfortable.

 

The curtains are drawn. Soft, clouded daylight peeks through the gaps, just enough to turn the otherwise dark room blue-ish. It lacks the warmth one would need at the edges of November, and the sun seems like it’s gonna hide all day.

 

Yoongi wishes he can do that too.

 

He wakes up too early, and his brain refuses to go back to sleep no matter how much he tries. He even tries those breathing exercises he used to help Hoseok with back in the day, and he still fails miserably. 

 

He, soon, gives into the thoughts swarming in his tired brain like lost fish. It alerts him ever so slightly, but he can’t get himself to leave his bed nonetheless. 

 

It’s too blue. He’ll feel cold the moment he moves out of it.

 

The heater works just fine. It keeps the area warm and bearable unlike the blowing wind outside, but Yoongi will feel cold.

 

The heater isn’t his source of warmth. 

 

It is the light breath he feels delicately meeting his neck. The arms that are wrapped around him like a koala. It’s the fresh, soft lavender scent of body wash and a mess of bleached hair against his face. The occasional hums that meet his ears almost melodically, sending his heartbeats into a frenzy.

 

Thoughtlessly, Yoongi pulls the body sleeping next to him even closer and gives in to the temptation to run his hands through the pinkish hair in his arms.

 

“Aren’t you supposed to be getting up?”

 

Yoongi smiles at the sleepy voice murmuring against his neck. He lets out a breathy chuckle. “I don’t want to.”

 

“I know…” Jimin lets out huskily, moving his head so he could look up at Yoongi. His eyes are still half-closed. “You never do.”

 

“I never do,” Yoongi repeats with a little smile that manages to take over his lips. The hand that was resting across Jimin’s side is gently brought up to his cheek instead to cup his face. “How can I ever want to, when I can have this to myself all day?”

 

“It’s not like we don’t end up seeing each other anyway,” Jimin says, his voice low and soft, as if there was someone else with them that they didn’t wanna wake. “Besides, didn’t you say that the detective gets back to work today?” 

 

“Ahh, yes…” Yoongi sighs. He closes his eyes in realization and loosens his grip on Jimin just a little, allowing him to slip out of his arms. Yoongi turns on his back whilst raising his hands up to place them on his face before he lets out a sound of frustration. “Park Jina.”

 

The room falls quiet for five sole seconds, then Jimin snaps up in a sitting position.

 

“What did you just say?”

 

Yoongi slides his hands away from his face. He turns his head to look at Jimin, whose voice sounds more awake now. “What?”

 

“What did you say just now?”

 

“Jina…?” Yoongi responds hesitantly, and he pushes himself up too.

 

“Do you... have a picture of her?” Jimin asks. His voice sounds too empty for Yoongi’s liking.

 

“No,” Yoongi tells him slowly, squinting his eyes at him in suspicion. “Why?”

 

“It’s nothing…” Jimin sounds as if he’s only speaking to convince himself of so. He looks up at Yoongi from the mattress and gives him a shake of his head. “It’s probably nothing.”

 

When Jimin tries to get out of bed, Yoongi notices the sour expression on his face. He shoots a hand to grab his wrist and halt his movement.

 

“No, it doesn’t look like nothing,” Yoongi says. He pulls Jimin closer. “What—”

 

Yoongi’s eyes accidentally pass by the tattoo on Jimin’s left collarbone as he brings his gaze to his, and the room turns silent again when Yoongi involuntarily takes a double-take at it.

 

Jimin’s eyes stay glued to Yoongi’s, and he watches how his lips part a little whilst his eyes graze over the tattoo a couple more times.

 

When their eyes meet again, both of them know that they are sharing the same thought. 

 

“It’s probably nothing,” Jimin shakes his head again and inhales a deep breath.

 

“Let’s not think too much into it,” Yoongi tells him. Jimin’s gaze floats away, but Yoongi brings a hand to his chin and brings his eyes back to him again. He nods reassuringly. “At least until proven otherwise, hmm?”

 

But Jimin stays just as tense in Yoongi’s arms.

 

“It’s… It’s probably nothing.”

 

---

Jina flinches at the loud thud that yanks her out of dreamland. She snaps her eyes open and her hands reach under her pillow for her gun reflexively, but it makes her hammering heart crunch even more when she doesn’t find it.

 

And she’s not in her room.

 

When she looks to the side, she realizes that the sound must’ve been the door slamming open. A figure is stumbling into the room. 

 

He only survives a few steps before falling to the ground with a painful thud. Despite that, the person doesn’t stop moving. He pushes himself up and starts moving again, looking around frantically.

 

Wide-eyed, Jina’s stomach turns at the scene, and the unfamiliarity of the place raises her fear even more. She stares at the back of the person a few feet away from her. He’s looking for something on a cabinet. His hands are shaky and he can’t seem to himself up, so he ends up knocking almost everything off of the cabinet instead. 

 

“N-no… no…”

 

Wait...Wait.

 

Is that Hoseok?

 

“God, no, no!”

 

“Hoseok?” Jina’s eyes widen even more at the returning memories.“What—“

 

But his hands slip from the cabinet and he falls to the ground before she could speak further. Hoseok puts a hand on the floor and he heaves, and only then, that Jina notices just how much his whole body is trembling. Weakly shifting his body weight to the side, Hoseok sits down on the floor with his back resting against the drawers.

 

The light coming from behind the curtains is dull and grey, but Jina catches the way Hoseok’s hair is drenched in sweat, some of it sticking to his forehead. 

 

He brings the back of his hands to his eyes. Soft, little gasps escape his lips uncontrollably, and he’s shaking.

 

Fuck, he’s shaking so bad.

 

Jina can’t help but jump out of the bed.

 

“I...I c-can’t—”

 

“Hoseok?” Jina calls and approaches him cautiously. His head snaps up at her immediately, and wide eyes stare up at her. “Hey…” She tries to smile, but the look on his face worries her more. “What’s wrong? Hmm?”

 

Why does he look so fucking scared?

 

“Yoon—Yoongi.”

 

Jina steps closer. “Yoongi?”

 

Hoseok looks down and closes his eyes. One hand falls to his thigh and he fists the material of his pants until his knuckles turn white. “I ca-can’t find my phone. I need to…”

 

“You need to call him?” Jina asks with a reassuring nod. “Do you want me to call him for you?”

 

He nods frantically, leaning forwards with a loud gasp. A hand climbs up to his chest.

 

“Fuck,” The detective lets out and she hurries to the phone she remembers leaving on the bedside table. It unlocks immediately when she puts it up to her face, and she sees an angry red mark that tells her that the battery is only at 1%.

 

Jina looks back to where Hoseok wheezes out. She hurriedly looks for Yoongi’s contact name before she presses her phone up to her ear, and goes back to Hoseok again. This time, she kneels before him.

It hurts. It all hurts and he can’t feel any oxygen in his hurting chest. 

 

Everything is blending together in front of him. The world spins. His head lols forwards and his eyes close again, and fuck he really feels like he won’t make it this time. He can’t breathe. No matter what he does, he just fucking can’t and his arms start to feel weaker as the seconds pass by.

 

The images that keep flashing in his head keep him too busy to try to calm himself down. It’s so vivid. Too vivid, and he fails to stop them from coming. 

 

“Yoongi?”

 

Hoseok snaps his head up at the name, but he still can’t see well. The person’s too far away.

 

“Yoongi I… I think… I think Hoseok’s having a panic attack.”

 

He gasps loudly, pushing his body backward again. He needs to keep his head upwards. He has to keep trying.

 

But fuck… fuck it’s still so clear in his mind.

 

His eyes are wide, and fear is kicking in. Is this really how he’ll go?

 

“I don’t know, I… I just woke up to him like that!”

 

It almost feels like he’s drowning. Like he’s all alone, and the angry waves keep crashing at his oh so weak body, thrashing him left and right like a rag doll without even a second of air to satisfy his needy lungs. 

 

“Fuck!”

 

Something falls to the ground harshly and Hoseok sobs. He doesn’t wanna go like that. He doesn’t wanna go with those being the last thing he sees. 

 

Pretty dress soaked in crimson with fire running to eat him alive. He doesn’t want that.

 

The waves are getting higher and Hoseok’s lungs are screaming for air. His eyes feel like they're about to pop out of their sockets. He pushes at his chest desperately, involuntary falling forwards again.

 

This time, there are arms welcoming him.

 

“Hoseok?” 

 

The voice is loud in his ears and he heaves, his hands immediately reaching out to hold onto whoever’s holding him. Hoseok lets out a pained sound and his grip tightens. His head rests against a shoulder and he smells his own fabric softener. The scent forces itself down his nostrils that he almost gags at its strength, but he’s too weak to try to move his head.

 

Cold hands grab each side of his face gently, he’s being pulled away.

 

The longer they stay there, the icier they feel, and Hoseok’s thankful.

 

“Hey, hey! Are you with me?!”

 

The feminine voice is urgent and panicked. The person’s face is close to his own. Hoseok raises a hand and it weakly grabs the material of the sweatshirt the person is wearing, and familiar features finally make their way past his blurry vision.

 

It’s the first time in a long while that he finds something to hang on to.

 

The waves lower ever so slightly. They’re becoming less harsh against his almost lifeless body.

 

“Hoseok?”

 

“Jina…” 

 

“I called Yoongi, did you hear?” Jina asks. She tries to hide her panic as she pushes herself up on her knees to push him back against the drawers. “He’s on his way. Yeah? I need you to keep your head raised for me, can you do that?”

 

She keeps one of her hands on his face to help him do as she said. His skin feels like lava under her own, hence his reddening face. His hand is still grabbing her sweatshirt, and the man sobs brokenly.

 

The look on his face is so unfamiliar to Jina, and so is the sound coming out of him as he tries helplessly to regain his lost breath. Tears escape his bloodshot eyes and he closes them, mumbling something incoherent under his breath.

 

“Do you want me to do anything?” Jina questions.

 

He inhales with a loud wheeze. “Don’t… Puh-Plea-se d-don’t le-leave.”

 

“I’m not going anywhere,” Jina tries to reassure him and pushes him back again when he falls towards her involuntarily. She keeps her other hand on his shoulder. He looks away and his eyes look so hazy, but Jina pushes his head straight again when it falls to the side. She forces him to look at her. “I’m not gonna leave you but you need to breathe with me, Hoseok. Okay? Try to match your breath with mine.”

 

The moment his gaze meets hers, she simply cannot look away for she is engulfed by the thousands of feelings she sees flash through his teary eyes. They wrap around her brain and overwhelm her, and she can’t help the hurt she feels in her own chest.

 

He looks so fucking miserable.

 

She doesn’t only see sadness. Jina sees fear. Fear so bad that his pupils keep jumping from a place to another. He’s holding onto her like he’s holding on for dear life, and in a way, it makes Jina’s breath hitch that he might be doing just that.

 

Jina sees anger. Maybe at himself for not being able to pull himself together, or for totally different reasons that she may never get to know of. But she still sees it. She sees the agony in his tears as he sobs one more time, and the way his voice breaks makes Jina’s heart do the same.

 

The detective feels her chest clench further, and it all swallows her whole the more she looks into his sad eyes.

 

But Hoseok looks away. His head lol to the side and he squeezes his eyes shut, and a wheeze/sob mixture escapes past his lips helplessly.

 

“Hey, hey…” Jina pushes past the lump in her throat. “Look at me.” She orders and shakes him gently, pushing his head upwards again.“Hoseok, Look at me.”

 

It takes him a couple of seconds, but he still complies, eyes looking as desperate as his lungs are. Loud gasps are still making their way out of him. It takes him a couple more seconds for his eyes to settle on hers without wavering.

 

“What color are my eyes?”

 

Hoseok stares up at her, and his brain translates the signals to him a couple of seconds too late, but the question still manages to push through everything and settle in his brain.

 

And he focuses on her eyes.

 

They’re a little wider than usual. They look panicked, but Hoseok sees gentleness he’s never seen in them. The shades coming from behind the curtains aren’t so bright but they help him see her eye color just fine, and he’s reminded of the way it feels when he looks into them.

 

Jina’s eyes are bright in the dimly lit room, and to Hoseok, they happen to be the brightest thing there is.

 

“Brown.”

 

He catches a ghost of a smile tug at her lips.

 

The waves begin to calm down. 

 

“Yes.” She tells him. “What’s the color of your duvet?”

 

Dazed eyes look behind her to find the item she just asked about, then he brings them back up to her again. “Grey.”

 

“You’re doing great,” Jina lets herself smile this time. His shoulders slow down and his lungs finally open again. “You’re doing great, Hoseok.”

 

He loses his focus on his hurting heart.

 

This is probably the first time Hoseok sees her smile. Her eyes curve a little and he can see how glossy they are, then. His grip loosens on her sweatshirt whilst he keeps tracing her features with tired eyes, and Hoseok lets out his first sigh of relief when he feels her thumb wipe under his eye softly. 

 

The cursed images go to the back of his head again as he allows her eyes to guide him to slow steadiness.

 

“Let’s move you to the bed, hmm?” Jina’s voice is so soft. It’s so fucking soft and tender. Just like the way she’s holding him. “You look so tired.”

 

That, he is.

 

His sea is tranquil now, but the ruins left behind leave him wrecked. His head’s too messy and disoriented, but at least the angry waves are replaced by still water.

 

“Let’s just…” the words barely make it out of his mouth. “...stay like this for a while.”

 

Jina nods, and he lets his head fall back on his own, finally leaving her eyes. He sniffles whilst the tension in his body flows away gradually, but neither of them lets go of one another.

 

It all comes back when he closes his eyes, but he decides to focus on Jina’s little touches this time instead.

 

Her hand is still on his face. Her thumb keeps tracing his cheekbone oh so comfortingly and Hoseok leans into the simple touch. He must’ve grabbed her other forearm a few minutes ago because he has it in one of his hands, and his grip keeps loosening, but he never lets go.

 

Slow pants of air leave his lips,  letting Jina’s own physical tension to finally be released.

 

“Are you okay?”

 

Hoseok hums out in reply.

 

“Do you want me to get you anything?”

 

“No…” His voice sounds hoarse. All the yelling will take a toll on his vocal cords. “Just… don’t leave.”

 

Why does he look so fucking miserable?

 

The desperateness in his tired voice makes Jina’s eyes fall in sympathy. She nods, even though he can’t see her, and slides her hand down from his face. His eyes open droopily at the gesture and he follows the movement of her hand, then she grabs his elbow, and she starts to get up from the floor.

 

“Come on. You need to lay down.”

 

Jina helps Hoseok to his feet and makes a mental note to give him kudos for supporting her the night before as she drags him to his bed. He’s a considerable amount of inches taller than her so, when she throws one of his arms over her shoulder and grabs him with her other hand, his weight makes her lean to the side at an awkward angle, but he still manages to put effort into walking on his own so they don’t fall over.

 

Jina finally manages to sit them both down on the bed right before Hoseok’s legs give out on him. He feels the bed dip beside him and he looks over at her briefly, before a hand pushes him to the side and he falls to the soft mattress with a grunt.

 

She’s on the other side of his bed, sitting on her knees on the mattress. The detective puts a hand under his head gently and pulls him up just enough to fix the pillow underneath then lets go, and Hoseok lets his eyes fall closed again.

 

The bed dips underneath her once more when she moves to get off of the bed, but the hand that wraps itself around her wrist makes her freeze in place.

 

Hoseok’s skin is still hot against her own, but they’re cooler than they were before. His grip on her is weak and she can pull away if she wants to, except, she feels too bad to pull away.

 

But she shouldn’t feel like that, a voice in the back of her head tells her. She should pull away. She shouldn’t even be here, to begin with.

 

“Stay with me,” He whispers huskily. “I don’t like being alone.”

 

How heartless can a person be to leave someone in the state that he is in? Because the detective surely isn’t. She just looks at him, then. She observes the man calmly for the very first time since they met. 

 

The redness in his skin is slowly fading into his natural skin tone again, and the popping veins that were previously very visible are now long gone. His hair still sticks messily to his forehead, drenched with sweat, just like the hem of his sweater that’s a little darker than its actual color.

 

The situation made her forget who he is, and what she’s been through since she met him. So breathless and fearful like he was only minutes ago, the scene broke her heart no matter who he is, or what he does. 

 

Jina, simply, fails to think that anyone ever deserves to go through something like this on their own.

 

Soon, Jina starts to feel his grip loosen gradually, and his chest finally falls in a steady, calm rhythm as it rises and falls. He finally falls asleep.

 

She looks down at his fingers that circle her wrist barely. With a pout on her lips, Jina doesn’t pull out of his grip, and she turns around to rest her back against the headboard.

 

Sympathetic eyes fall on Hoseok’s sleeping features, all relaxed and calm. Memories return to her head where he makes her go through hell, they are forced to coexist with this specific memory that engraves itself in her mind. A scene of the man she loathes with every part of her being crying with a merciless brain that refuses to grant oxygen pathway through his struggling body, and she’s the only one there to provide him with any help.

 

She looks down at her hand, the one he leant into as she held his face with such a heartbreaking expression plastered to it, and she just doesn’t understand.

 

She doesn’t understand many things. How can someone like him look so small and helpless?

 

How is she still here, not leaving his side just as he wishes? Why did she not leave the room once he managed to regain his breath?

 

But no decent person would do such a thing, would they?

 

Jina sighs out.

 

“What happened to you, Jung Hoseok?”

 

---

His small body fell to the grass with a painful thud.

 

The wall that he had just fallen from was almost twice… if not three times his size. He fell on his side and let out a pained whimper. He didn’t quite get why they must remain quiet at all costs even with no one in sight, but he knew that this was the only way they could finally go home.

 

Little Hobi grabbed his right arm and bit on his lower lip, trying to suppress the remaining sounds of pain he wanted to let out. It was grass, not asphalt, that he had fallen on, but it still sends surges of pain in his small body.

 

He rolled on his back, his scared, teary eyes planted on the top of the wall. He waits impatiently, his gaze getting blurrier with tears until he catches a mess of familiar brown hair appearing.

 

The feminine eyes looked around frantically at first, before spotting the small figure quivering in pain on the ground. The woman smiled comfortingly, jumping over the wall with more ease than Hoseok expected. She landed on the ground with a roll, clearly taking less damage than Hoseok took, but that didn’t matter at that moment.

 

“Are you hurt, baby?” She asked in a whisper, sliding closer to Hoseok who nodded yes falteringly, but got up on his feet nonetheless, while she stayed on her knees. “I’m so sorry, Hoseok. I’m so sorry you have to go through this.”

 

He shook his head. “As long as we go home.”

 

“We will, baby, I promise I'll get you home even if my life depends on it.”

 

---

Hoseok’s nightmares became nothing more than a broken record that pries at his withering brain at any chance it gets. They catch him at his lowest states and strike like his own brain is trying to sabotage all the energy he tries to gain by himself.

 

Like a fucking beast that takes and takes, only to leave Hoseok shaking and choking over his own spit as he curls himself into a ball all by himself.

 

He’s the one that decided that on his own. To be alone.

 

And he hates it. He hates the quietness that engulfs his whole being after a busy day and he hates the shadows that linger around him as he tries to put himself to sleep.

 

But he did that to himself.

 

He pushed Yoongi away when he’d tried to make them live together back then. He’s the one refusing to let anyone else into his life, and he’s the one that chooses to let his mind eat him alive with loneliness whilst everyone around him begs to help.

 

They don’t know how it feels. He feels…. Hoseok feels like a burden. Like a big load that everyone mustn't carry. A sack of darkness and nightmares that are still to flow away from his tired, tired mind.

 

But it feels nice. It feels nice to have someone there to wipe his tears oh so gently.

 

When he wakes up again, the lights behind the curtains are a little softer than they were when he fell asleep, but still grey and dull nonetheless. His eyes sting a little when he forces them open and he almost gives into a dreamless sleep once more, but he decides against it.

 

He hates feeling like this. Like all the energy in his body is drained, wasted into nothing but breathlessness and agonized screams. 

 

Like usual, his voice is half-gone, leaving him with an awkward, hoarse, tired tone instead. Already grumpy, Hoseok sits up. He runs his hands down his face then turns his head to the side thoughtlessly. Like something… someone is supposed to be on the bed beside him.

 

And there was.

 

Hoseok’s frame tenses up like a bowstring. He straightens up his previously bent back and looks around the room frantically, then his eyes fall on the clothes he lent Jina to wear to bed the night before. They are neatly folded, placed on top of a nearby cabinet.

 

And the fresh memories of earlier this morning come back to him like a slap across the face.

 

“Fuck.”

 

Hoseok only realizes how strained his neck is when he gets up to his feet. Letting out a raspy moan, a hand shoots up to the side of his neck to massage the cramping area hopelessly. It takes him a couple of moments to balance himself on his feet, then he begins to stumble towards the closed bedroom door. 

 

He glances at the neatly folded clothes again as he passes by them.

 

Embarrassment somehow manages to make his body buzz as he thinks of seeing the woman again. Hoseok doesn’t know how to look at her anymore.

 

But as he takes one step outside of his room, he remembers the way her voice was tender to remind him that he wasn’t alone.

 

Her hand was cold, yet not so cold that it’d be uncomfortable. Just the perfect temperature. On his face, it was weirdly calming. Mainly because the coolness felt nice against his burning skin, but he simply can’t deny that he longs to be touched the way she touched him.

 

It’s been so long since someone touched him like that.

 

Or more like, it’s been too long since he let someone touch him like that. Way too long.

 

Jina looked genuinely worried. She handled him with gentleness and care that he expected from anyone but her. She was quick to handle it, too. Asking him questions and speaking to him in that tone of hers to distract him from his monstrous mind, and it irritates him more to think about the way his body responded to that.

 

Hoseok isn’t like that all the time. He mostly wakes up in the middle of the night in cold sweat, but maybe his lack of sleep and increasing stress made matters much worse than they usually are.

 

When he was like that, the last few years, he was alone. He’d scream and only hear his echo calling back, with no one to help but his own. It’s always been tiring, thinking that he’d die like that. Out of breath and cold and alone, but he managed to pull himself back to earth every time. And the more he does it, the more he’s convinced that he can do this alone. That he shouldn't bother anyone with his problems. 

 

In the middle of his frenzy, when he’d call Yoongi out of the fear that this is it, it’d feel nice on the short term. But long after that, he would start feeling silly about it, even if Yoongi never showed anything but support. Neither did anyone else.

 

In conclusion, he had stopped opening up about his emotions for quite some time. He’d brush his friends’ questions off and change the subject, but, as much as he doesn’t like it, they still read him like an open book. 

 

It annoys him, really, but sometimes it’s still nice to be understood without having to utter a word.

 

“I want kimbab, too.”

 

“This isn’t for you, midget.” 

 

“I know you won’t let me starve.”

 

“Get your ass up and make it yourself, then.”

 

“But you’re the better cook!”

 

“If you don’t get up and make your own damn food—”

 

“Please put the knife down, hyung.” Hoseok rasps out, dragging his feet into the kitchen where two of his friends are bickering back and forth at each other.

 

Seokjin and Chungha stand on the opposite sides of the middle island, with Seokjin holding a knife threateningly towards her.

 

“Oh, you poor thing. Your voice is—”

 

“I know,” Hoseok cuts Chungha off with a nod. He runs a hand in his hair and raises his eyes to meet hers, then he almost rolls his eyes at the sympathetic pout that takes over her painted lips almost immediately. “Don’t look at me like that.”

 

For some reason, he can’t bring himself to meet Seokjin’s gaze.

 

Shame? Embarrassment? He couldn’t really put his hands on the exact emotion.

 

“What time is it?” Hoseok asks, finding it harder to speak the more he does. He strolls to the refrigerator behind Seokjin to pull the door open, only for the older to kick it back closed with his foot.

 

“Don’t drink something cold. I’m making you soup.”

 

“Chicken?”

 

“Yes, spoiled brat.” Seokjin sighs and returns to cutting his veggies in silence.

 

Hoseok steps closer to the stove. Once he is close enough, he inhales the steam coming out of the boiling soup. It is a scent that never fails to make his mouth water, and with that, Hoseok cracks his first smile of the day.

 

Smiling, huh?

 

Such a pretty sight, it was.

 

Bow-shaped lips pulling back, eyes turning into little crescents endearingly.

 

“It’s 5:48 pm, by the way,” Chungha states, munching on a piece of yellow pepper that she manages to steal from Seokjin’s cutting board, who proceeds to stare at her like she stole every last penny he has.

 

“Did you get her a change of clothes as I asked?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Did she make it to work on time?”

 

“She left around 12:35? I guess,” Chungha replies with a slight shrug. “Didn’t you talk to her boss?”

 

Hoseok hums and makes a beeline around the middle island to take a seat beside her, facing Seokjin.

 

And he looks at him for the first time.

 

Hoseok can’t help but notice the constant furrow between his eyebrows as he chops down on a piece of bell pepper. The man’s wide shoulders are tense, and Hoseok mentally prepares himself for what’s coming.

 

He glances at Chungha, who returns the look. Her lips purse apologetically.

 

Ah, shit.

 

“I asked you before, didn’t I?”

 

“Huh?”

 

“I asked you yesterday, too.” Seokjin stops chopping and vertically slams the knife a little too harshly on the chopping board. Chungha flinches at the gesture. The tip is stuck in the wooden surface and the knife stands tall, and Seokjin leans forwards, resting both palms flat on the surface on each side. “I asked if you were having nightmares again. And what did you reply with?”

 

Hoseok licks his lips and looks away. He crosses his arms over his chest and places them on the surface before him. “I said no.”

 

“You said no.”

 

“I… said no.”

 

“How long have we been going through this, Hoseok?” Seokjin questions. He leans away from the island. “Years. It’s been years. And what happens every time?”

 

Silence.

 

“Answer me.”

 

“I’ve been handling it well on my own lately.”

 

“Is that why your voice is gone?” Seokjin shoots back, his eyebrows raising whilst crossing his arms over his chest persistently. “Or perhaps that’s why we came to find you drenched in cold sweat? Do you call this handling it well?”

 

“You’re acting like I like being like this—“

 

“No, Hoseok. I’m acting like a friend.” Seokjin points to himself sternly. Worry finally manages to appear beyond the anger in his eyes. “A fucking friend that’s been with you through this for ages.”

 

Hoseok doesn’t reply, looking down at his lap.

 

“We’re worried, Hoseok,” Chungha tells him. A gentle hand falls to the back of his neck, squeezing kindly. “Handling this alone won’t get you any better.”

 

“What exactly do you expect me to do right now?” Hoseok finally speaks. He looks back and forth between the pair of them. “Shed a couple of tears and say that I'll tell you next time? End it with a little friendly group hug?” His voice cracks when he tries to raise his tone. “I’m like this almost daily. Will one of you move in to help? Because if not, I find it useless to talk about it.”

 

“You should go see Jieun again.”

 

“I think we have too much going for me to have time to go to therapy, don’t you think?.” Hoseok snaps. “It’s been fucking ages and we’ve got nothing. Can you tell me what we are going to do about that?”

 

Chungha leans back in her seat. “Isn’t Jina supposed to get the guy for us?” 

 

“Because this magically makes it less stressful, right?” Hoseok lets out a sarcastic chuckle. “Can either of you fucking tell me how much we’ve lost so far because of this?”

 

Once more, silence. 

 

Heat rises beneath his skin.

 

“The word is already out. Almost all of South Korea knows what happened, if not beyond that. If we don't get the son of a bitch that did this, the name that each one of us put their blood, sweat, and tears to maintain, will be in the fucking ground. Nothing but dust and dirt for everyone unworthy to walk on.” He pauses and glances at Seokjin, who’s clenching his jaw as he stares at an empty spot on the island. “So no, hyung. I’ve got way more on my plate than to go to a fucking shrink.”

 

“Then let us help,” Seokjin says.

 

“How… how exactly do you think you can help?” Frustration is clear in Hoseok’s cracking voice. He lets his eyes flutter closed and looks away for a couple of seconds.

 

It’s silent as Hoseok takes a couple of calming breaths, but he can feel his hyung’s gaze hot on his skin. 

 

“Seokjin,” He starts again. His voice is calmer this time around, and he meets the older’s gaze once again.“I see shit I didn’t even experience. It’s not just about that night. If new shit happens it gets added to the mix and I have no control over it. I got used to this. I got used to waking up and handling it on my own. I think it’s about time everyone else does the same.”

 

Seokjin’s jaw is still clenched as he stares into his eyes. Hoseok knows he’s holding himself back from lashing out at him.

 

So he sighs defeatedly. “Maybe after all of this is done I can talk to Jieun again. Other than that, there’s nothing really for me to do.” 

 

“You’re digging your own grave,” Seokjin remarks. “And you’re forcing us all to watch.”

 

“I’m not doing shit.”

 

“No one is that tough, Hoseok,” Chungha mumbles. She’s looking right into his eyes when he turns to her. “You think handling this shit alone makes you stronger when it just drains the fucking life out of you. I don’t think you understand how shitty it feels to watch you drain yourself out.”

 

No, because she’s right. She is. Hoseok knows that. He’s slowly driving himself into insanity’s wide arms, and he’s choosing so, just so he wouldn’t burden anyone.

 

Even though they ask to help. They’re the ones reaching out for him, but how selfish can he be to pour all of this on them when he knows each and every one of them already has their own load to take care of?

 

Be it nightmares, haunting memories, blood, everyone has their own hell.

 

He still remembers how tired Yoongi would be after a bad night, even if the older brushes it off as nothing.

 

“I’m sorry,” Hoseok lets out thoughtlessly. “I’m trying to better myself. I never stopped trying. You have to know as much.”

 

Seokjin grabs his knife and pulls it out of the cutting board. “It wouldn’t hurt to have company as you do, then.”

 

“Hyung—”

 

“I’m not gonna fucking watch you be like this and stay quiet.” Seokjin snaps at him. Hoseok knew it was going to come at some point. “I don’t know what the hell do you take me for. If I have to lock you up in a damn psych ward I will, and we all fucking know that I can do that.”

 

“I’m not a fucking child!”

 

“You’re acting like one!” The older yells and the knife meets the cutting board again. “You’re the fucking head of the largest underground network in the damn country and there you are whining like a bitch in heat. What are you gonna do next, huh? Are we supposed to search your apartment for poison again?”

 

Oh wow.

 

Chungha reaches a hand to the oldest. “Seokjin—”

 

“Because I won’t have you leading anyone with valium in your fucking system again. You get your shit together if you wanna keep your reputation and stop pushing us away. If you think you’ve been sleek all this time, then I have some news for you.”

 

Well, isn’t this a nice conversation to wake up to?

 

Hoseok lets his eyes fall from the older’s, and he hears him sigh.

 

No matter what he thinks, Hoseok still knows that Seokjin is saying this out of concern. He’s saying so because he’s worried and because he doesn’t wanna see him the way he is, but damn, doesn’t it stings.

 

Maybe because Hoseok had been thinking about it again that it stings that much.

 

Seokjin’s voice is calmer. He goes to the stove. “Yoongi almost had a fucking heart attack on the way here. Nearly crashed us twice.”

 

Hoseok looks up at him.

 

“The detective’s phone died in the middle of the call. We couldn’t reach you.”

 

“I couldn’t find my phone,” Hoseok tells him.

 

“Yeah, she told us.” Chungha nods and looks ahead of her. “Well, told them . She didn’t even look me in the eye.”

 

Ah, shit. He almost forgot.

 

Hoseok lets out a weary sigh.

 

“Go take a shower,” Seokjin says with his back to the pair of them. “You look like shit. Your food will be done by then.” Hoseok stares at the older’s back for a little too long, but then he turns around and pins him down with a death glare. “Did you hear me?”

 

Chungha places both hands on his bicep and gently pushes him off of his seat. He stumbles a little then turns around to give the woman a glare of his own. To which she only gives a little smile, and he really should stop having soft spots for people.

 

If anyone else had said what Seokjin just threw at him, they wouldn’t have had their heads on their bodies for longer than three seconds afterward.

 

“Fucking fine.”

 

---

After the driver drops her off in front of the station, with a frown on her face, Jina shoves her hands in her ‘new’ coat’s pockets and stares at the back of the black car as it drives away. For some reason, she tries to memorize the plate number.

Only when the car is completely out of sight, the detective is on the move.

The sunglasses Chungha gave here are remarkable in diverting off the sun rays, but, somehow, some still sting her hurting brain as she moves into the building. She presses a couple of fingers against each temple to massage her head every couple of minutes as a failed attempt into easing her unavoidable discomfort.

She should’ve just taken the hangover soup that Chungha brought her. Fuck being mad.

The detective brings out her ID and slides it down her head to let it hang from her covered neck. She lets out a grumpy sound when the volume around her starts to rise beyond her liking. Nonetheless, Jina picks up her pace when familiar voices get louder in her sensitive ears. Her hurting body aches for a seat.

But instead of running to her desk once she rounds the corner, Jina freezes, four gazes falling upon her momentarily.

Only three sighs of relief reach her ears, while the remaining gaze hardens once she meets it.

“Took you long enough,” Siwon turns around to face her from his position by the table in the middle. 

“See?”  Jongho sends a smile her way then leans back in his seat whilst stretching his arms behind his head. “I told you guys not to worry.”

Jina frowns. Her gaze jumps from one individual to the other, but she avoids a certain pair of dragon-shaped eyes. “Did...something happen?”

“You just…” Yunho sighs, catching her attention. He stands up from behind his desk and grabs his phone out of his pocket. “You could’ve texted, you know? Panicking at 7 in the morning is unhealthy for some people.”

“Aw, were you worried about me?” Jina teases, chuckling as she bends her head to the side, looking up at him as he passes by her while he unlocks his phone. “I’m flattered, Yunho!”

He only spares her a roll of his eyes and a look of annoyance before disappearing to where she came from. Before she could fixate her gaze on her other colleagues again, Jina feels a smack to the top of her head.

Letting out a short-lived yelp of pain, She grabs each side of her head and squeezes her eyes shut. “Why would you—?!”

“Next time, don’t get this wasted on a work night,” Siwon scolds, pointing the file he just hit her with at her threateningly. “Jeez, you had the whole damn penalty and you just had to get yourself drunk the night before you return to work.”

“It was accidental, I swear!” Jina defends herself, her eyebrows raised in disbelief as she let her hands fall to her sides. “Wait…” She pauses in her track, her eyebrows lowering again. “How did you know I got myself wasted?”

“Noona…” Jongho chuckles, still in the same position. “Did you look at yourself before you left?”

“It’s pretty self-explanatory, really,” Jina hears Yunho speak from behind her, then a cup of coffee and a hangover drink are shoved into her arms.

“Oh my god, thank you…” Jina mumbles in gratitude, even when Yunho gives her a deadpan. “Listen,”  She returns to Jongho. “I was in a hurry. I already felt bad about being late.”

“Wait, what happened to your hand?”

Jina glances down at her right hand briefly.

“I broke a glass yesterday.” Jina’s tone was natural, voice nor eyes wavering. What is making her nervous and uncomfortable, though, are the pair of eyes that never left her since the moment she stepped into the four men’s sight. “Accidentally hurt myself.”

Pursing his lips, Yunho lets out yet another sigh as he returns to his desk.

“Speaking of…” Siwon suddenly lets out, gaining her attention again. “How did you—”

“Jina.”

Everyone present looks back at the new-coming voice that successfully interrupts the conversation and Jina finds her body tensing up involuntarily.

“Are you feeling better?” 

Jina turns her whole body towards Jeongsu as he speaks. He stands tall, as usual, the first two buttons of his white shirt undone, with his hands in his pants’ front pockets. They stare at each other for a couple more seconds than it is deemed necessary, and the detective only snaps from her trance when Jeongsu raises an eyebrow at her.

“Oh, yes.” Jina nods respectfully, her hand tightening around the hangover drink in her hand. “Thank you, sir.”

“Yeah,” One corner of his lips pulls back a little to display an understanding, almost teasing smirk. “No worries.”

Before Jeongsu could even finish the sentence he was already turning around. As Jina keeps her gaze to where he previously stood, she is yet reminded of his very heavy presence by the sound of his fading footsteps as he returns to his office. 

Yunho hums whilst Jina turns around. “Is it just me or is he being weird?”

“He’s always been cocky,” Siwon answers him. He walks around him and Jongho to get to his own desk, then he sits down with a grunt. “You guys just haven’t been around enough to get used to it.”

Jina just stands there for a few more seconds, silently allowing the flaming coffee cup to burn her skin. Her hand begs for her to put it down, and it only takes her so long to finally push her feet off of the ground and begin to move to her desk.

She raises her gaze from her chair and accidentally meets Namjoon’s eyes, and she never knew the day would come where she wishes her desk wasn't next to his. 

Jina diverts her eyes away immediately. She puts down her drinks on her desk, still feeling a burning gaze following her every move. She pulls back her chair and forces herself to sit down without fidgeting. 

But then, she exhales a heavy breath. She unscrews the cap of the green bottle with one elbow leant on her desk and defeated eyes hidden behind her sunglasses. She can very much feel the rest of her colleagues looking at them eagerly, ready to get their dosage of ‘Watching Jina get scolded by Namjoon.’

“Please stop looking at me like that.”

“The fucking audacity…”

“It’s not like I murdered someone! I just—”

Without a warning, nor a chance for Jina to finish her act of defense, a couple of people are pushed in front of them by a pair of struggling officers, letting chaos arise instead.

“They were having a…” One of the officers stops to catch his breath. He points at the two tangled people on the floor, who are, by the looks of it, still trying to grab each other’s throats. “They were fighting in front of their school.”

“Yikes,” Jongho stands up, approaching them while Siwon does the same. Each of them grabs someone, then they basically throw them on the chairs in front of Siwon’s desk like sacks of potatoes.

Jina sighed, returning her gaze to Namjoon. He’s looking at something on the screen in front of him with a clenched jaw.

And since she doesn’t want to publicly embarrass herself, she doesn’t provoke her friend further for the time being. She downs her drink in one go, hissing slightly at the irritation in her throat.

He’s just worried, she reminds herself. 

Jina opens the top drawer to grab the spare charger she keeps in there. She pushes her legs and lets the chair slide her closer to the wall behind her and shoves the charger in the awaiting socket, then her phone blinks to life.

As she waits for it to start up, she glances at the back of Namjoon’s steady head to see if he’s still looking. When the phone buzzes in her wounded hand, she brings her attention back to it. 

And when Jina takes a look at the notification center, she gets an idea of why Namjoon is so mad. It basically overflows with texts and missed calls from him. There are a few from Chungha that Jina ignores, and then, her mom.

Fuck. Her mom.

Jina’s hurting eyes widen in sudden realization. She presses the call button next to her contact name and pushes the phone up to her ear hurriedly, but it isn’t long before she is sent to voicemail. She lets out a huff, her leg starting to bounce thoughtlessly.

Much more to her stress, Yunho suddenly drops something in her lap.

“Jesus, Yunho!” Jina flinches. She pulls a hand to her chest while she leans back in her seat.“You scared me!”

The tall bastard just lets out a little ‘Heh’ in reply and adjusts the bag on her lap to prevent it from falling. “Pretty sure you didn’t get breakfast.”

Jina looks at the bag more clearly, and the smell reaches her before she recognizes the green and white paper bag that Subway provides.

“You got me breakfast?” Jina lets out in awe, and her eyes could turn into hearts happily if they can. At the sight, her stomach growls loudly, and she curses her pride again for not letting her eat the food Chungha brought her. The detective reaches into the bag eagerly. “Yunho, you’re the only one I have here.”

Yunho laughs at that, but a scoff comes from her right.

 

Kim Namjoon is probably the only person in Jina’s life that she trusts 100%. It took some time for that statement to be true after their meeting, but soon enough, she realizes that her tall friend made her warm up to him thoughtlessly.

Throughout her whole life, Jina lacked a sole male figure. It’s not like she needs anyone, especially a man, to get by, but at least having her brother back then brought her some sense of safety. Comfort, even. 

For as long as she can remember, the detective only has unfortunate memories of her father. One of them is that when he rids her of her brother, and that one somehow managed to engrave itself in her head the most.

Because Jina was used to his presence since the very moment light has met her eyes. He was her every morning and night, and the protective arms that wrapped around her in their father’s bad nights. So, naturally, when he disappeared without notice in her mid-teens, Jina felt a vast gap that she only tried and failed to fill up again.

And that gap was just as wide when Jina first met Namjoon. 

It was tough, having to break down walls and walls of trust issues, and Jina knew that, for she felt like he had walls of his own too. Concrete ones, ones she may still be unsuccessful in the face of, but both of them managed to get along just fine.

But their very close friendship grew branches and maybe some of them became long enough to poke Jina right in the eyes.

Usually, she is a very good liar. She looks into a person’s eyes and her tongue would turn and twist the words however she likes. Even if the words within are beyond believable, she naturally makes them sound like the truest thing to exist. 

It’s not something she is proud of, but growing up the way she did made her learn far more concerning things than just to lie. 

However, three people on planet earth know otherwise. One of them being Namjoon, which is why she is having a very hard time trying to cover up what she’s been doing from him.

Even though looking through her computer could probably be the most normal thing she can do, her shoulders are still tense and her pupils shake occasionally. She noticed a while ago how Namjoon’s gaze would drop on her every now and then and that did nothing but raise her growing stress even more. 

The last thing she wants is for him to catch what’s displayed on the screen ahead of her. Technically, she isn’t doing anything wrong, but Namjoon is too smart for her not to worry.

It’s as if he is just waiting for her to slip.

“What are you doing?”

“Heh?” Jina lets out.

She curses herself silently for thinking about it too much.

“What are you doing?” Namjoon stands up, obviously faking curiosity as he closes the space between them. He settles behind her and bends down, putting a hand on her armrest while the other settles on her shoulder. He looks forwards, and when Jina looks up at him, she finds the reflection of her screen glinting in his eyes. 

“I’m looking for the person that made the…'' Jina trails off. She raises her hands and air-quotes. “False report.”

“Oh,” Namjoon nods casually, eyes plastered to her screen.“What are you gonna do when you find them, then?”

“What do you mean?” Jina chuckles, pushing her chair back. He trips and hits the wall behind her with a little thud, and she twirls around in her chair to look at him. The detective pulls up her matter-of-factly voice, and shrugs. “A person made a false report. I have to find him to see why they made it.”

“So you believe it was a false report?”

She can’t suddenly change what she thinks. She’ll only be asking for a deathwish if she does.

“Who the fuck even mentioned that?”

“I don’t know, man. You’re acting very weird.”

“I’m acting weird because—” Jina cuts herself off, her voice too loud. They both look around briefly to make sure that everyone is minding their own business, allowing them to look back at each other. She sits on the edge of her seat, looking up at him, and starts to mumble in a lower voice. “Because you’re making me feel like I committed a fucking crime when I just drank too much to be able to function early in the morning.”

“Do you know how much I called you?”

“Yes, I saw, thank you.”

“Don’t be a brat, for fuck’s sake.” Namjoon scoffs, discontent clear on his features. “I know for a fact that this isn’t just what happened and your behavior is making it more obvious.”

“I’m not talking about this right now,” Jina shakes her head and turns around in her chair once more to face the screen, pulling herself into the desk. “We’ll talk when I come back.”

“Bold of you to assume I’m letting you go alone.”

“Bold of you to assume I’ll let you come.”

“Last time we left you alone you ended up on a leave.” Namjoon flashes her a humorless smile as he returns to his seat.“I’m coming with whether you like it or not.”

Jina closes the window on her screen. “Whatever,” 

The detective stands up. She repeats the address she just read under her breath like a broken record and stretches out a hand to grab her phone and the other to grab her car keys—

Before it hits her that she doesn’t have her car.

Jina freezes, her hand still at the place she usually puts her car keys. Just hovering over the desk. She clenches her jaw and flutters her eyes closed for a few seconds, then she lets out a loud, frustrated breath.

A lump forms in her throat as if her pride is nagging her, but she can only swallow it and turn to her friend.

Jina shoves her phone into her pocket. “What are you waiting for?” 

“Didn’t you say you don’t want me to come?”

“You also said you won’t let me go alone, so…”

“Yeah, of course.” Namjoon stands up and collects his belongings from his desk with a cocky smirk on his face. Dimples on full display, and all. “Not that you didn’t come with your car or anything.”

“Just—” Jina snaps. She raises a fist up in his direction. “Shut up. Please.”

“Where are you two going?” Siwon rounds the corner, closing the file in his hands. “We’re not supposed to leave yet.”

“I’m gon’ go see who made the false report.” Jina answers. She and Namjoon simultaneously go out from behind their desks to meet in the middle and settle before Siwon. “And I didn’t drive here, so he’s gonna take me.”

“Oh,” Siwon frowns a little. He diverts his eyes back and forth between the pair.

God really is testing the woman’s very little patience today.

“Yeah!” Jina claps once then put both of her hands on Namjoon. She starts to urge him forward and flashes Siwon a smile. “We’re running out of time, so, we’ll be going!”

What would sound reasonable enough to cover the events of the night before? Namjoon already knows that she was with Chungha and the fact that she was too drunk to be able to handle human interactions well the next day. Maybe if she tells him that she had a one-night stand he would believe it?

Well, she almost had that. And It would’ve been way nicer to cry with a dick in her mouth than the way she did in front of Jung Hoseok of all people.

But this isn’t the time to cry over spilled milk, is it?

“Where to?” Namjoon asks the moment they settle in his car.

“Seongbuk-gu,” Jina tells him as she takes out her phone. It’s safe to say that every fiber in her being is praying for Namjoon to postpone the conversation further. “It was a payphone in front of a 7/11 there. I’ll text you the location.”

He puts the car on D and drives out of the parking spot smoothly. “Ight.”

And the car goes quiet for a minute too long, that Jina begins to think that whoever heard her is answering her prayers.

“So, wanna tell me what happened yesterday again?”

“Kim Namjoon…” Jina sighs.

He glances at her briefly. “I didn’t buy any of that bullshit and you know it.”

“What makes you think that something happened?”

“Just spit it, Jina.”

For a few seconds, Jina just stares at the side of her head with disbelief spelled out on her face. “God, I hate you so much.”

“I’m listening.”

“Literally nothing out of the ordinary happened!” Jina exclaims, wild hand movements taking place. “Chungha took me out, we spent the whole night together and I accidentally got a little too wasted to function.” She crosses her hands over her chest and looks forward. “She tried taking me home but I wasn’t conscious and you know how mom sleeps with earplugs so she obviously didn’t hear the door. Chungha took me to her house and she must’ve turned off my phone because I kept throwing up and shit, as you know.”

“How did Jeongsu know you were going to be late?”

Well, fuck.

“I turned on my phone and called him then turned it back off again.” Jina shrugs casually. “Acted extra sick and all.”

“How did you hurt your hand?”

God, he’s difficult.

“I said I broke a cup, didn’t I?” Jina snaps.“Why do I feel like I’m being interrogated here?”

“Because you’re dumb,” Namjoon replies in a normal voice, not like he was insulting her or anything. “It’s been wildly eventful lately. I thought something new happened.”

“I’m not dumb,” Jina says argumentatively, then her voice drops back to normal again. “If something happened I would’ve told you.”

“Yeah, you would…” Namjoon nods and sends her a questioning look. “Wouldn’t you?”

“Keep guilt-tripping me over nothing, then,” Jina mumbles sulkily, but she is glad their little chatter finally came to an end.

Before anything else arises, Jina’s phone buzzes with a text notification. The contact name makes her stomach twist in distress, and she makes sure to lower the brightness before she opens the text. She’s almost forgotten the question she sent a couple of hours before.

 

J: i know you’re still asleep but…

J: did we by any chance meet anyone last night?

HOSEOK: what do you mean?

J: I feel like i met someone i know

J: its probably nothing

H: you don’t remember what happened last night?

J: i unfortunately do

J: up until you got me to the car i guess

J: i don’t know. Like i said it’s probably nothing. 

H: we didn’t see anyone

H: i took you home and your mom didn’t answer so i brought you here

H: no one else was present

J: oh ok

J: thanks

Jina can’t help the unsteady exhale that escapes her lips as she stares at her lit screen.

She must’ve been dreaming, then.

How fucked up could she have been to hear it so clearly?

Her phone buzzes in her hands again.

H: did you find anything?

J: yes actually

J: It was a payphone in seongbuk-gu

J: im omw there 

H: ok

J: are you okay now?

 

Jina stares at her screen. She just stares, and the more time that passes by with Hoseok leaving her on read , the more she wants to bang her head on the window right then and there.

The detective looks up to the road beyond her in disbelief, then looks back down on the phone.

If anything, she’s just trying to be nice and it is clear that he remains a fucking jackass. Whatever made her think otherwise, anyways? Curse her for having human decency, a thing that he doesn’t even deserve from her. A thing that he probably never even got to fucking know of.

Even when she finds herself wishing she could’ve just left him there, she feels bad about it.

He looked so small. Like a scared boy.

And he fucking leaves her on read .

---

Hoseok couldn’t stay home.

When he came out of his short-lived shower, Hoseok only found Seokjin in his living room. He’d prepared him steamy soup and some medicine, but not another word was uttered between them until Seokjin bid him farewell.

Even though the older had an empty expression on his face until he left, Hoseok easily understood the nature behind his otherwise unnoticeable effort of trying to make up for the words he threw at him earlier. 

He waited until Hoseok finished his food and brought him cold medicine for his irritated throat, and went as far as making him green tea before he left.

And Hoseok realizes how unreasonably stubborn he must’ve been looking to them all.

Because the moment Seokjin steps out of the apartment, the light somehow darkens and the air becomes cooler, even with the heater turned on.

And he just sits there.

It’s not like he isn’t used to it, but he never liked it. He never liked the way even with all the windows wide open, he sometimes finds the air too little to reach his lungs.

As soon as he feels the slight discomfort of a migraine starting to rudely build up in his brain, Hoseok throws on the first fit he finds in his wardrobe and is soon enough on his merry way out of his very empty apartment, and down to his car.

He didn’t know what he was expecting when the air remains too thick around him once he takes off, but, with no destination in mind, Hoseok drives.

Maybe if he sees a friend he will feel better? But Yoongi’s phone is turned off and Jimin isn’t answering, so they must still be working. Seokjin and Chungha are unavailable, Heize is under the radar again, and Taehyung went to Daegu with Jeongguk to secure yet another deal to compensate for their fresh loss.

Jieun might be available, but he just knows that the woman will drag his ass into some sort of a therapeutic confession without him noticing. Which is not necessarily a bad thing, maybe he does need to go back to therapy again, but this isn’t an ideal time for something like this.

He just wants to breathe. He wants the tension in his system to flow right out.

And that leaves Hoseok with one remaining option. He doesn’t know if he likes it or not.

Nevertheless, his route takes him to Itaewon.

Hoseok is heavy. Heavier than he has been in a while, and he knows it. He fails to put his hand on the exact source of said heaviness, be it the embarrassment of this morning’s events, the humiliation that someone, let alone her , saw him in such a state, the feeling of not having control over his life lately, or everything together.

He despises not having control. He despises it when things would spiral out of his grasp, exactly the way it has been lately. It’s messy and just straight-out stressful. Like he’s smack in the middle of a squash court with hundreds of balls bouncing on each wall, and he doesn’t have enough energy to try to pull them back down to the ground.

Weak. Vulnerable. Hoseok detests those feelings more than he can ever put into words.

Sometimes, these exact thoughts would make his panic attacks worse.

All the what-ifs. The self-destruct and absolutely horrifying thoughts that would explode in his mind, he never has control over them. They run out of his grasp every fucking time he tries to tie them down, and he starts to feel helpless.

Some times are longer than others, some times are more painful than others, but Hoseok has no other choice other than to pull himself back to earth completely on his lonesome.

He likes to think that. That he doesn't have any other choice, even when he does. Even when he should.

But this morning… This morning was difficult.

It was the first time he had someone present in a while. It’s not often when he gets panic attacks after a nightmare or a sudden flashback. Flashbacks are more randomized, but the ones he gets smack after flinching awake from a crippling nightmare, those ones are... extra quirky.

Sometimes he loses his sense of reality. He wouldn’t even know if he's still dreaming or not.

Today, though… waking up in an unfamiliar bed was a whole other thing. It took longer for him to have his hands on his reality, to even figure out where he was, which made everything worse.

Hoseok really thought he was going to die right then and there. His phone was nowhere to be found, and his head only used this information against him. Kept telling him that he’s gonna go like that, screaming and wheezing and shaking all alone with crimson and fire still fresh in his sight.

He couldn’t even recognize her at first. 

But Jina held him when he fell into her. She held his face in her cold hands and he recognized her then.

He fucking hates it. He hates the way his own body betrayed him with the way it reacted to her. He hates how persistently he was holding onto her like the waves would have swallowed him whole if she moved an inch.

“You need to breathe with me, Hoseok. Okay?”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“You’re doing great, Hoseok.”

Why did she have to sound like that? So fucking soothing… So calming he could do as much as record it and listen to it on repeat. He wanted her to keep talking. Wanted her to keep looking into his eyes, let him know she was there. To keep holding him, to keep him grounded.

Hoseok was terrified. His whole body trembled. Vision was uneven and blurry, but he managed to correct them when she asked him to look into her eyes. 

Hoseok floors the gas pedal. He can’t keep thinking like this. He shouldn’t.

Maybe that’s why he feels heavier than usual. Why he’s feeling extra cold. 

Maybe that’s why he’s finding it hard to reply to her last text.

It felt awkward already, to have to interact with her. Hoseok was hoping she wouldn’t bring it up, and as their conversation was just beginning to end…

“Are you okay now?”

Because...hell, he isn’t okay. He hasn’t been for a very long time. And he doesn’t know why he can almost hear her voice in his head.

Did she have the same look in her eyes when she typed that? Were her eyes still soft and comforting like they were earlier?

Hoseok knows she is genuine. If she wasn’t, Jina wouldn’t have even asked or paid any attention to the matter at all. He knows that much. 

Why, though? she really was concerned, but why? After everything he put her through in such a short time, why did she look so scared and concerned when she could have just let him struggle?

Why is it so fucking hard to accept someone’s care?

Hoseok parks his car away from the busy streets and decides to take a walk instead. The cold weather could be in his favor, anyways. To knock the life back into the body he drags onto the solid asphalt.

It’s still early, around half-past six, and not so many people swarmed the usually packed streets. Faint music can be heard and the lights coming from around him makes him squint just a little bit, but Itaewon isn’t yet awake.

His baseball hat and mask keep his features well hidden as he lets his feet take him where he wants to be. It isn’t long before the pink neon sign illuminates his skin tone, and Hoseok passes from underneath it with a sigh.

Fucking pink, Park Jimin.

Lussuria, it says. Lust. Not really creative for someone in a gang of Italian origin.

It is quiet inside. Apart from the workers that are preparing for the opening, Hoseok can hear the echo of his own footsteps. He is greeted once he enters, and the security guard silently lets him pass with a respectful bow.

He walks in the same route he took with Jina on his back as he pushed his way outside. Even without the neon lights and the loud music, Hoseok’s brain flows with memories of the mess of the night before.  

She was already a dead weight as it is. One hand was soaked with blood while the other held onto his blazer tightly. She was afraid he might drop her and made sure to state that very clearly into his ears. 

Jina was dazed, still dizzy with alcohol running free in her blood. She rested her head on Hoseok’s shoulder after she failed to keep it upright, and her wounded hand managed to raise up out of nowhere to lightly trace his jawline, and down to his neck.

He felt her chest rise against his back as she inhaled. “Yo-you have a-a very nice neck.”

And Hoseok didn’t know what was worse. The actual situation, or the way he cracked a little smile while thinking about it.

There is no one by the elevator as he climbs down the stairs, but what is there is broken glass, some parts bigger than the others, that remain from the little fight that took place there the night before.

Some of them were already pushed to the side, but he thoughtlessly pushes the remaining ones as well so no one would get hurt if they aren’t looking.

When the elevator doors open, Hoseok is greeted by the familiar scent of their little hideout. He doesn’t know what scent it really is, but it is one of those scents that you smell at any house except for your own. Unrecognizable anywhere else, yet so close to his cranky heart.

Originally, half of this place was a storage room, while the other half was a dressing area for the strippers. When Jimin first became one of them and started getting along with the club business, he thought that this place was wasted on nothing, considering there were plenty of other places to be used as a storage or dressing room.

With a few redecorations, it became their very own place.

In the middle area, there is a chair for each of them. Each one picked their own chair, hence the variety of shapes. Eight in total.

It is a colorful place, with colored LED lights plastered to the few steps inside and to the corners of the ceiling, giving it more of a relaxing vibe. The array mixture of the colors and shapes somehow makes it more friendly to Hoseok. Probably because it reminds him that he isn’t entirely alone.

In a way.

Hoseok wastes no time going for the bar, for it practically lulls out his name as a siren would. He stands before the variety of liquor for a considerable amount of seconds, then he turns around to the mini-fridge beside him. He gets out a bottle of soju and grabs a shot glass, then he makes his way to his chair.

It’s pastel green. Matte, stuck between a shade that isn't bright nor dark either. It’s kinda big, someone else could probably fit in it with him too. There is a single wild-colored pillow thrown on it, and the arms are curled a little, and it feels like he is sitting in a plant pot. A very dramatic one, if he may say.

Hoseok flops down with a sigh, spreading his legs so he can put his glass and bottle between them and the man relaxes against the pillow behind him. He lets his head fall back and closes his eyes. The air is still barely reaching his lungs when he tries to inhale.

He stays in his position for a couple of minutes. He lets the slow music coming from the speakers calm down his buzzing brain, and a bit of the weight pulling him down slips away, scarcely so.

But it only returns back with full impact when the familiar ‘ting’ of the elevator meets his ears. Hoseok recognizes the clicking high heels that grow closer by the second, and he lets out a long sigh.

He knows exactly who it is. In fact, he knew she’d come. That’s why he came here in the first place.

“You’re early today.”

“So are you,” Hoseok responds calmly. The clicking comes closer. “Where is my thank you for giving you the day off, hmm?”

“Day off? I had to rearrange your whole schedule for today because your ass didn’t show up.”

“I texted, Seulgi. What else was I supposed to do?”

“Just don’t say you gave me the day off,” Hoseok feels a pair of hands on his shoulders, then they start lowering down to his chest.  He feels her lips brush against the top of his ear.“If anything, you gave me a headache.”

Hoseok chuckles. “I’m not sorry, honestly.”

“Of course you’re not.” Seulgi scoffs and raises again to her height.  She walks around the chair to stand in front of him, and Hoseok notices how she hasn’t changed out of her formal attire yet. “Why are you here?”

“Felt extra sober. Didn’t exactly like it.”

“Valid,” Seulgi says. He nears the shot he poured for himself to his mouth, but a red-clawed grasp snatches it away to down it in one go. “Is anyone else coming?”

But Hoseok just looks at her. He blinks and his tongue pokes his cheek as she returns his glass to his hand. All while a smirk plays on her scarlet-painted lips.

“I hate that.”

“I know.”

“You wanna piss me off?”

“I love it when you’re pissed off.”

“Why are you horny at 7 pm, Seulgi?”

She laughs at that. “Why are you not!”

“Why do you think I came here, then?” Hoseok charges with a raised eyebrow. He pours himself another shot and downs it, but he maintains eye contact. “Is anyone available?”

Seulgi lowers her upper body and cages him in his chair. Hoseok hates that.“I am.”

“Anyone upstairs.”

“No, the girls are still getting ready.”

“I’m not just into girls, you know?”

“Same thing, it’s too early for anyone to be ready,” Seulgi tells him. She takes away the glass from his lips after he downs his third shot of the night, and sets it aside along with the soju bottle. Climbing in his lap, Seulgi’s pencil skirt rides up her thigh to expose more skin while her knees settle on each side of Hoseok’s hips. She sits down on his thighs. “I guess you’re stuck with me.”

She runs her hands down from his shoulders to his chest seductively, and Hoseok’s body betrays him once more.

She gets closer. Painted lips move slowly. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

“Hmm,” Hoseok grabs Seulgi’s wrists from his chest and slowly pulls them behind her back whilst she leans in. He holds them with one hand while the other snakes around her waist, then he pulls her flush against him. “You need to stop pushing my buttons.”

Warmth. He craves warmth, but he isn’t finding any.

“How else would I get you to dick me down, then?” Seulgi mumbles shamelessly. 

She raises up slightly. Her long, dark hair falls from her shoulders and almost covers Hoseok’s face. Her bangs fall on her eyes, shadowing the excitement igniting within them. Slowly, she drags her hips forwards and lowers herself down teasingly.

“Have you always been this bratty?” Hoseok’s voice comes out in a lower octave. He tightens his grip around Seulgi’s wrists, and she tries to fidget in his grasp. 

Reminds him of someone.

Why is he thinking of her?

Seulgi’s smirk is reduced to a ghost of it. She drags her hips once again to get comfortable, and her breath hitches noticeably at the very little pleasure she earns herself, feeling the hardening crotch flush against her. Eventually, her fidgeting results in nothing more than her skirt riding higher up her thighs, and a blank expression from Hoseok, whose jaw just clenches. 

Seulgi is confident. Her eyes are a little droopy, but focused and eager as she keeps them on Hoseok’s unwaveringly.

Her tone drops too. “You need to talk less and do more.”

“You know I like taking my time,” Hoseok shoots right away, tugging lightly on her wrists while his free hand trails up her exposed thigh. He teasingly kneads the skin there. “You managed to do everything wrong in a matter of two minutes.”

Seulgi opens her mouth to speak, only for a moan to slip out of it when Hoseok leeches his lips on her neck, making her bare it more. Her head leans in the other direction and she flatters her eyes closed before letting out a little whine when Hoseok bites down on the delicate skin.

An attempt to roll her hips against him was made once more, but the firm hand on her hip physically stops her from doing so.

“I said slow.” Hoseok mumbles against her skin.

And Hoseok takes his time. He kisses and bites and marks his way down her exposed neck until he reaches her collarbone, and Seulgi only gets impatient in his arms. He feels her throat vibrate under his lips as she lets out yet another moan.

The hand on her hip loosens to trail up and unbutton the first few buttons of her peach-colored blouse, but the one around her wrists is still just as firm, refusing to let go whatsoever.

As he goes back down, Hoseok purposely drags his fingers against Seulgi’s covered skin in a manner so slow, that she grinds down on him once more absentmindedly. 

Hoseok groans. His free hand grabs the ends of her long hair and wraps it around his knuckles a couple of times before he gives it a warning tug.

He leans away and looks at her. “What did I say?”

“I hate slow.”

“I hate disobedience.”

“Hoseok, please—”

“You can always make yourself cum on my thigh.”

“Nuh-no,” Seulgi’s eyes widen ever so slightly. She tries to catch his gaze with her head tilted backward. Her eyes are a bit hazier than before. “No. I need you to fuck me.”

“Then be a sweetheart and stay still,” His tone is threatening,m and his damaged vocal cords make his voice sound huskier than usual. He pulls her closer harshly. “Can you do that for me?”

Hoseok heaves a breath.

Fuck, why is he thinking of her?

It gets hotter, all of the sudden. Tension makes its way to his body and his movement becomes sharper the snappier he gets. 

With another, harsher tug to her hair, Hoseok speaks through gritted teeth. “Can you?”

Seulgi nods hurriedly.

Hoseok wants nothing more than to lose all the tension in his body to a quick, hard fuck that he knows Seulgi will comply to. He really fucking doesn’t, but oh he likes this a little too much. 

Having her in his arms like this, helpless and unable to move, begging him for something only he can give her.

Control. He likes being in control.

Notes:

idk why am i like this tbh lmao.
but yeah!! pace is starting to pick up so heuheuheu!!! i'll try to update as soon as i can! thank you so much for your patience<3
ALSO THOSE OF YOU WHO COMMENT REALLY REALLY MAKE ME HAPPY SO THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THAT!!
I hope you enjoyed this chapter as well! please look forward to the next one and remember that your feedback and kudos keep your fav writers going :D
Thank you for reading! See you next time<3

Chapter 7: sette

Summary:

“You shouldn’t be here.”

“Well, I fucking am,” Hoseok takes a step closer, gesturing around with his arms. “What are you gonna do about it?”

Notes:

HELLOOOO!! i'm sneaking in this liddol update until next week bc i just couldn't hold myself back lmao. This chapter is looaaddedd with action so buckle up!! Also trigger warning for violence in the second half of the chapter! i finish finals on the 17th so i'll try to sneak in another update before then but if not, don't forget about me lmao. I have loads of things planned for this au!!
dour feedback and kudos literally make my whole day better. Thank you so much!!
don't forget to look at mt twt @EB0YSOPE for updates!!
les get it

Hoseok nodded his head, feeling her hands whipping away the silent tears that kept falling from his scared eyes. 

 

“Mom?”

 

“Yes, baby?”

 

“Why is this happening to us?” The boy said in a hushed tone as he looked around in fear.

 

“Because there are very bad people that want to hurt daddy through us,” She explained, keeping her tone soft. She got up to her feet and grabbed the hand that wasn’t holding his hurting arm. “But that’s not gonna happen. We’re not gonna let them hurt daddy, right, Hoseok?”

 

Even though he nods, she can still see the fear linger in his teary eyes.

 

“I’m gonna need you to run very fast now, okay?” She told him, bending down to be on the same eye-level as him. “Just like you do when you and Yoongi race.” She chuckled, trying so hard to cover up her own panic. “Just a little bit faster this time, okay? For mommy.”

 

“O-okay,” Hoseok sniffled, nodding eagerly before he was pulled in a hug, his mother’s arms wrapping around him as if she never wants to let go.

 

In a way, she really didn’t want to.

 

“We’ll have to run away from each other, though.” She informed Hoseok, smiling at him comfortingly when she pulled away. She held his face in her hands again. “It’s a little darker there, see?” She pointed somewhere to their left, a darker area than the rest since the light in it was out. “You'll start running from there, and I’ll start from here. We’ll meet beyond the treeline so no one sees us anymore, okay?”

---

He still feels heavy.

 

His hangover isn’t as mean as it usually is. It’s only logical since he didn’t push it too much last night, but oh he wishes he did. That way he would’ve found something to blame when he struggled to get out of bed in the morning other than his very, very thin will to live.

 

Fun.

 

He runs low on sleep again. His body was too irritated to stay asleep, as it seems. The shadows under his eyes are even darker today, he notices them briefly when he gives himself a final look in the mirror before he drifts off to work and brushes them as nothing. 

 

Nevertheless, it gets him a few stares sent his way as he goes up to his office.

 

Hoseok hears Seulgi greet him formally as he passes by her desk towards his office, but he makes no effort whatsoever to respond to her as he pushes the door open.

 

He has to squint a little when he steps in. It’s too bright inside, he always thought. The multiple bright shades of white, grey, and beige never help with chronic migraines and hurting eyes. The colors spread in the vast space, adding little to no color into his not-so-vibrant life-pallet.

 

Adding to the dullness are the sulky skies displayed outside the window behind his desk, and Hoseok hates it.

 

He doesn’t feel alive here.

 

The man walks to his desk and flops down on his chair. Moments later, the click of the door opening echoes in the quiet room along with the familiar high-heeled steps that grow closer.

 

“Well, you look like shit.”

 

“Good morning to you too,” Hoseok grumbles out, placing his elbows on the desk in front of him. He runs a hand down his face. “How do you not look like shit?”

 

“Never underestimate a determined woman, Sir.” Seulgi raises a cocky eyebrow but keeps her formal attitude. “You have a big load of things to do today. Should I move some stuff to tomorrow?”

 

Hoseok shakes his head, tutting.

 

“Around 12 there’s the meeting with the marketing team,” Seulgi starts, looking down at the iPad in her hands. “Then, the CEO invited you and Seokjin-ssi to lunch with Kim Hongjoong. It was supposed to be yesterday but, they all agreed it’d be better if you joined them.”

 

“Did something happen?” Hoseok looks up at Seulgi with a frown. “Why all of a sudden?”

 

Seulgi shrugs casually. “You also have to look at the updated PR strategies for the new projects for confirmation or edits before the noon meeting so I’d suggest we postpone it until you have all of this covered.”

 

There’s a lag in his brain and he just keeps staring at her for a few seconds. He should’ve just sucked it up yesterday and came to work. “Is that it?”

 

Seulgi smiles tightly, then she looks back down on her iPad. “Nope. You’ll need to meet with Chungha for financial—“

 

“Excuse me.”

 

Both their gazes snap up to the door, where another secretary with dyed-blonde hair popped her head from behind, smiling apologetically. Hoseok looks at her and she slowly reveals the rest of her body to step into the office completely. She politely closes the door, then looks back and starts to speak.

 

“There is a police detective down at the lobby saying she has something for you, sir.” She informs, and Hoseok’s body tenses up. “We checked, but she doesn’t have a scheduled meeting. Should we send her away?”

 

“Yes—”

 

“No,” Hoseok cuts Seulgi off, and the two women’s heads snap to him. “Send her up.”

 

Seulgi gives him a disapproving look while the other secretary retracts with a little bow, closing the door behind her.

 

Seulgi steps closer. “You have a lot to do today. You don’t have time for her.”

 

“I’m sure ten minutes won’t affect my schedule.”

 

“What is she even doing here?” Seulgi complains.

 

Hoseok leans back in his chair and raises an eyebrow. “Let’s not butt in other people’s businesses, eh?”

 

Seulgi gave him a blank look. “You know you could’ve just somehow forced her into giving in the information without being all nice and fuzzy, right?”

 

He could’ve. He really could’ve.

 

“Who said I'm being nice and fuzzy?”

 

“Why did it take her all this time, then?”

 

“Because Jeongsu gave her a suspension. As little this is of benefit to us, it still maintains our cover.” Hoseok stands up. “Don’t be so impulsive, Seulgi.”

 

She lets her hands fall to her sides, looking at Hoseok with a deadpan. “I’m not impulsive. Everyone’s on the tip of their nerves because of what happened—“

 

“You don’t think I am?” Hoseok snaps. “Me? of all fucking people? What is it with everyone reminding me of how fucking bad the situation is when I’m the one smack in the middle of it?!”

 

His echo is the only thing that talks back when Seulgi stays quiet. He keeps staring at her and he can feel his face heat up, but eventually looks away and takes a deep breath. He hears her let out a sigh, and when he looks back at her, she is stepping backward.

 

“I’ll get you hangover soup in a bit.”

 

Hoseok rolls his eyes and turns behind him, running a hand discontentedly in his hair. His eyes fall down at the city below from the glass wall. The grey skies managed to make everything else underneath it even sulkier today.

 

In a way, it’s kinda comforting. It somewhat allows him to relate to what he feels but can never, for the life of him, expresses. Because it's all grey. Grey skies, grey streets, grey people, and it seeps into his soul and consumes him whole without even giving him a chance to breathe. 

 

Hoseok zones out accidentally and everything suddenly seems to move in slow motion. The cars, the people walking by, even the raindrops that only started to fall down the glass smoothly.

 

It allows him to breathe a little.

 

Seulgi’s steady steps towards the door halt, and Hoseok hears the door click open softly.

 

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

 

Hoseok sucks in a deep breath and snaps his head back, eyes falling on the two women by the door immediately.

 

Jina seems to have bumped accidentally into Seulgi, who stops herself from giving her a death glare after stumbling back a step or two. Jina smiles at her apologetically, a beige file held against her chest. Forcing a smile herself, Seulgi steps back and opens the door further for Jina to step in.

 

 Once she does so, Seulgi’s smile falls completely. An annoyed scowl takes over her face instead as she walks out of the door and closes it behind her. 

 

Jina’s smile, too, falls too quickly for Hoseok’s liking.

 

He turns fully towards her, faking perplexity. “What brings you here?”

 

 She doesn’t look like the last time he saw her. No leftover makeup, no messy hair or worried eyes staring down at him. Her hair is pulled up in a little ponytail today, her features on full display. The color scheme of the office and her own choice of clothing managed to bring out her eye color, which he somehow vividly remembers from the day before. 

 

She’s wearing a pair of denim jeans with an oversized white hoodie and a long, beige coat that looked too soft for Hoseok to not want to touch.

 

Only after she speaks, that he realizes he was looking for too long.

 

“Thought I’d just get this over with,” Jina steps nearer and places the file in her hands on the desk that separates them. “He has a considerable amount of shit in there. I was supposed to go look for him as soon as I got his info.” 

 

Hoseok looks down at the file, then back up at Jina, to see her hands shoved in her pockets as she rocks on the ball of her feet. She bites the inside of her cheek, but otherwise, her face remains emotionless.

 

“Oh,” Hoseok lets out lowly and steps forwards to reach for the file. The awkwardness he physically feels in the air is irritating him. It makes it harder to breathe.

 

“So, what’s supposed to happen now?”

 

“We’ll go find him,” Hoseok replies, opening the file in his hands. “I’ll inform you once anything comes up.”

 

Sexual and physical assault, drug abuse, theft, the fucker has done it all.

 

“What am I supposed to put in my report?” Jina questions. “You told me Jeongsu doesn’t know anything about this.”

 

“Well, you obviously shouldn’t be involved in finding someone like him,” Hoseok throws the file messily on the desk again, tilting his head a little. He shoves his hands in his pockets and steps past the desk. “I don’t know if making any further moves considering this would be good for you.”

 

“I’m a freaking detective, Hoseok. This is literally my job.” Jina’s eyebrows furrow and she takes her hands out of her pockets. “I can’t exactly lie on my report either.”

 

Hoseok shrugs and leans back on the desk when he settles in front of her. “You kinda need to.”

 

“Let’s go together, then.” Jina shrugs back and Hoseok freezes for a couple of seconds. He raises an eyebrow at her. “You get to come and see for yourself and I get to finish my case without bullshit.”

 

“You do know that it’s not gonna be pretty when I find him, right?”

 

She looks offended and asks, “Do I look like a joke to you?”

 

“I’m killing him once I know who made him do it,” Hoseok says.

 

Jina seems to freeze for a second there, too, just looking at him. 

 

“And I’m not going alone. So even if you try to stop me, I—”

 

“This isn’t my shit to be concerned about.” Jina cuts him off. “All I’m saying is I get to fucking come because I need something to put in my report. You can kill him afterward for all I care about. He doesn’t look exactly innocent to me. But, sitting back while watching other people do the damn job I’m supposed to be doing doesn't sit right with me. Even if it’s play-pretend.”

 

Tutting, Hoseok looks to the side, clearly irked. “You just love making things difficult for me, don’t you?”

 

Jina chuckles humorlessly. “Right. Me.”

 

“Fucking fine, then,” He lets out in pure annoyance, gesturing with his hands before he let them fall to his sides. “Suit yourself.”

 

“I will.” She raises an eyebrow. “When—”

 

“I get off work at 6,” He says grumpily. “I’ll pick you up around 7:30.”

 

“That’s too late.”

 

“Don’t come, then.”

 

Jina’s lips part a little as she glares at him with a provoked gaze. Hoseok watches as she clenches the fists by her side, inhales a cooling breath, then looks to the side temporarily before letting out sharply. “Fine. I’ll be home. We can’t be seen with each other at the station.”

 

The detective shakes her head and lets out a sigh as she starts to step back. The air feels thick with uneasiness between them and she just wants to end it, so she starts to turn around to finally leave, only to freeze when she feels a hand wrap itself around her wrist.

 

Once more, Hoseok fails to notice what his body has done until Jina’s wrist is in his hand.

 

Unlike all the times they’ve been put in the same position, this is the gentlest hold he’s ever had on her. 

 

Hoseok lets out tentatively. “Wait.”

 

Jina’s gaze drops first to where their skin touch, then it snaps up to his own. A scowl works its way on her features and annoyance boils in her blood, and it’s all clear in her eyes. They just stare at each other, and time seems to keep stretching.

 

All her tries of diverting eye contact with him since she got here have failed as she looks at him, and her mind is forced to take in his appearance for the first time today. His eyes are droopy and dull, and the shadows under them show their shape no mercy. His cheeks are sunken, and he doesn’t look like he should be out of bed.

 

Not that she cares.

 

Is he still having a hard time?

 

“Thank you.” Hoseok finally says.

 

“Huh?”

 

“For helping us out,” Hoseok isn’t letting go of her wrist, but his touch becomes even gentler. His fingers absentmindedly slide down a little bit, grazing the skin of her palm. “Thank you.” He doesn’t fight the need to keep going as it pushes at his brain even when he is met with utter silence. Hoseok lets out a breath, and he can’t help it when his eyes involuntarily soften. “And for saving Chungha back then.”

 

Oh?

 

“Oh…” Jina lets out hesitantly. “You shouldn’t thank me for that—“

 

“And for yesterday.”

 

Oh.

 

Annoyance subsides, but her eyes remain blank for a couple more seconds. Slowly, her brain makes out the reality of the situation and her eyes lose their sharpness. She tries to look for mockery or something to fuel her hatred and irritation in his eyes as he keeps them on her, and her heart beats a little harsher when she doesn’t find any.

 

Hoseok is showing vulnerability, and it is very noticeable that he is having a hard time doing so.

 

Maybe he didn’t mean to leave her on read yesterday.

 

Hoseok waits for her to snatch her hand away and walk out but, once more, she stays. She stays and her eyes curl again, but not the way they did before. The almost-smile is short-lived and barely noticeable before it’s smothered in a neutral expression again.

 

“You shouldn’t thank me for that either.” 

---

Hoseok had found Yoongi in his living room when he stumbled back into the apartment the night before.

 

Hoseok almost laughed at himself, then. Being drunk as he was, he thought his mind was making things up when he spotted him on the couch. He thought the things Seokjin told him that morning were getting the best of him and he started to hallucinate people in his very empty apartment, but it is safe to say that Yoongi made sure to make him see how real he was.

 

He finds it amazing how much patience Yoongi has.

 

Because no matter how many times Hoseok screams at his face, demanding he should stop trying to help him because nothing is wrong anymore, Yoongi still lets him. He lets him scream and complain as loud and as much as he wants because then, at least he is letting something out. 

 

The fit usually ends with Hoseok sobbing on his knees, telling Yoongi how much the weight on his shoulders hurts, and Yoongi always has his arms wrapped around him. It's as if he tries to physically keep him from falling apart.

 

When it all subsided last night, Yoongi pulled Hoseok to his bedroom and helped him change into clean clothes, turned on the Tv, and they just sat there. Each of them drifts to their own worlds, but they do so in each other’s presence.

 

“You know i’ll feel pathetic about this tomorrow, right?” Hoseok said somewhere in between. “I already do.”

 

“I know,” Yoongi nodded, his tone understanding. “I’ll still tell you that you don’t have to feel like this every damn time until you believe me.”

 

Yoongi stayed with him all night. Doing nothing in particular, with the tv playing as background noise. Hoseok fell asleep at some point, but Yoongi was gone when he woke up in the morning. He must’ve stayed until he made sure that Hoseok wasn’t going to wake up in the middle of the night.

 

True to his words, when Hoseok first spots his friend the next day, he avoids eye contact and keeps it on their other companions instead, even though it still feels off with Seokjin. He is the last person to arrive to their private dining room, and it seems that he is late judging by the food on the table.

 

“Took you long enough,” Seokjin tells him as Hoseok sits down in the empty seat next to Yoongi, with him and Hongjoong across from them.

 

“Sorry, I had a lot to do,” Hoseok says, then turns his attention to the man next to Seokjin. “It’s been a while, Hongjoong. Have you been well?”

 

“I have, hyung. Thank you.” Hongjoong nods politely. “I heard you were feeling unwell yesterday. I hope all is good now.”

 

“Yes,” Hoseok gives him a tight smile. “Thank you.”

 

“Hongjoong contacted me a couple of days ago saying he has new intel considering what has been happening,” Yoongi eyes his food and brings his eyes up to Seokjin, then to Hoseok. “I figured it would only be right to have you both present too.”

 

“Did something new happen?” Hoseok looks at Hongjoong, never looking back at Yoongi.

 

But he never misses the way Yoongi lets out a sigh, then looks away from him.

 

“The word has spread between the families and smaller gangs recently,” Hongjoong starts. He grabs his wine glass and nears it to his lips. “Everyone is on watch out for the stolen drugs to hit underground, but there is no sign of them yet.”

 

“They’re in the government’s vaults. I don’t think there will be any sign of them at all.” Seokjin speaks and picks up his chopsticks. “They can keep waiting. We’ll be retracting them back when the time is right.”

 

“I wouldn’t be surprised if someone beats us to that too,” Hoseok leans back in his seat. Seokjin’s eyebrow furrows a little at his words, but Hoseok keeps his face expressionless as he looks back at him. “I’m pretty sure not all of the cars were caught. You’ll find our drugs on the street soon. Keep your eyes out.”

 

“Other families are thinking of this as leverage, though.” Hongjoong goes on. He looks at Hoseok. “Some people will take this as a chance to stir things up. They think what has happened concludes that you are no longer of as much power as you were.”

 

This isn't directed at Yoongi nor Seokjin. It’s right at Hoseok.

 

“Has there been any unusual movement amongst the smaller gangs?” Yoongi asks. “Surely something might’ve changed after that whole ordeal if one of them is behind it.”

 

“We’ve been watching, but nothing seems out of the ordinary,” Hongjoong tells him. “Whoever it is are either not in South Korean, or they’re just good.”

 

“Such a refreshing thing to say,” Hoseok chuckles. He stares at the wine in his glass and flicks his wrist to twirl it inside. 

 

“It’s the truth. I don’t know how to sugarcoat.”

 

“It’s fine. Hoseok’s just a little sensitive these days.” The corner of Seokin’s lips pulls up and he raises an eyebrow at Hoseok teasingly. “But it only makes sense. Whoever can pull shit like that is good. Doesn’t mean we don’t like a challenge, eh?”

 

“Hyung…” Yoongi sighs and puts up a hand to him. “Please. This ain’t an adrenaline rush. Don’t get too excited.”

 

“Why! It is exciting! I can’t wait to get my hands on the bastard.”

 

Hoseok chuckles breathily and gulps down his drink. He sends Hongjoong a look, who seems to be too amused by the conversation. 

 

Yeah. He can’t wait to get his hands on them either. 

 

“Could it be one of the families?” Hoseok leans forwards and puts his elbows on the table. “One back in Italy? Because I have a couple of names on the top of my head that would be stupid enough to do something like this.”

 

“It could be anything,” Yoongi shifts in his seat, and Hoseok’s eyes fall to the table. “But if it is, I’m making it hail hellfire on their asses.”

 

“We’re more than glad to help,” Hongjoong says. He raises his glass and tips it towards Hoseok. “We wouldn’t be here without you anyways, hyung.”

 

Hoseok nods and sends him a smile, and Hongjoong returns it knowingly.

 

It’s a funny story, how they met. With Hoseok standing at the end of the barrel of Hongjoong’s gun in the middle of the night, smack in the center of his old penthouse.

 

“What I would suggest, though,” Hongjoong starts again and shifts in his seat to be able to look at the three of them well. His gaze meets Hoseok’s, and he starts again. “Is for you to go out in the streets often. Maybe visit a club or two that you own or not, that should show some people their places.”

 

“Damn…” Hoseok empties his glass and sets it down on the table with a little thud. “It must be worse than I thought.”

 

“Not exactly but…” Hongjoong trails off with a shrug. “What you did with Jo Wontae definitely had an effect, but it's not enough.”

 

“Are you telling me to shoot more people in the head, Hongjoong?”

 

“Jesus Christ,” Yoongi lets out and sends him a frown. “You’re too fucking violent sometimes.”

 

“Come on, Yoongi. Let the man be.” Seokjin has something mischievous in his eyes. “Gotta take the anger out somewhere, right?”

 

“What is wrong with you?”

 

“We’ve got a lead, by the way,” Hoseok grabs his chopsticks and tries to ignore the way his throat itches in protest. They ordered Jajangmyeon for him, even in such a fancy place. Must be their little way of trying to cheer him up, even if the oldest isn’t acting like it. Nonetheless, Hoseok greatly appreciates it. “The detective passed by with info on the caller this morning. We’re going to check him out tonight. I’ll give the file to Jeongguk so expect him to contact you in the next day or so.”

 

“Are we sure of this detective, though?” Hongjoong asks, but Hoseok barely catches what he says as he mixes the sauce with the noodles. “I heard she’s good at what she does. Isn’t it too risky to keep her close to the action?”

 

“She’s not gonna do anything. I made sure of it.” Hoseok tells him with a shake of his head. He bends his head down closer to his plate. “I need you to watch her, though. Distantly. Just in case anything happens.”

 

“You think she’ll fuck us over?” Yoongi asks.

 

“No,” Hoseok lets out with a mouthful. He raises a hand and signals for them to wait until he can speak again before he goes on. “She insisted on coming to check out the caller tonight. If someone sees her with me it could cause her trouble.”

 

Seokjin shrugs, patting his mouth with a napkin. “Good riddance.” 

 

“No, hyung,” Hoseok sends him a look. “She’s my responsibility. I can’t exactly afford more blood on my hands.”

 

“Will do, hyung. Don’t worry.” Hongjoong tells him. “I’ll send someone on watch tomorrow morning.”

 

“She can’t do anything anyway,” Yoongi shrugs. “I’m sure you can handle it well if anything happens though, hyung.”

 

“Why are you like this?” Seokjin’s face is blank.

 

“You are our legal defender as much as you are our consigliere. Just shove a couple of lawsuits up her ass if she decides to go rogue.”

 

Hoseok looks at Yoongi for the first time this afternoon. “I said she’s not gonna do anything.”

 

Yoongi meets his gaze, and they just look at each other for a few seconds.

 

“Alright,” Yoongi finally says, then returns to his food. “But I’m having her head if anything goes south.”

 

---

“Hmm?”

 

“I’m outside.”

 

“Okay--”

 

“I’m not waiting longer than two minutes.”

 

“Would it fucking hurt not to be an asshole?” Jina exclaims. She gets up from the sofa and grabs her gun with her free hand.

 

The only reply she gets is the click of the call ending, and the gun in her hand feels heavier in her hand. All her problems would be solved if she just pops one of the bad boys in the magazine in his head.

 

But she wouldn’t do that now even if she wants to. He looked so bad earlier, and she knows she shouldn’t put much thought into it.

 

He’s her rival. A pain in her ass. No matter how much of a difficult time he might be having or how sympathetic she feels towards him.

 

After staring at her reflection in the dark screen in her hand, Jina shoves her phone in the back pocket of her jeans and stomps towards the door. She flips the light switch and leaves the living room only dimly lit by a floor lamp. 

 

She steps down the three steps then stops to put on her shoes, and she only has one shoe on when a sharp knocking on the front door makes her jump.

 

The impatient little shit.

 

Jina puts on the other shoe.“I said I was coming! Jesus!”

 

Patting herself down to make sure she has everything, she grabs her coat from the hanger behind the door and places a hand on the doorknob to pull it open and give the person outside a piece of her mind.

 

Except, the detective has no time to react before something hits her across her face, and she is helplessly falling backward. From the impact of the fall, Jina’s eyes cross and blur for a few moments. She snaps her hands up to her throbbing face.

 

Jina can’t see well but she is well aware of the figure approaching her. She quickly turns back on her knees and tries crawling away, but a hand harshly grabs one of her ankles and stops her temporarily before she pushes that leg back in an angry kick. 

 

Moments later, she hears a grunt and the hand around her ankle loosens, allowing her to slip away from the person’s grasp as he keeps letting out moans of pain.

 

Jina hopes she hit somewhere sensitive.

 

After successfully putting enough space between them, Jina grabs on a nearby table and gets up to her feet. Doing so, she hears the man approach her again. Impulsively, the detective grabs the first object she can find, which happens to be a glass vase, and swings her hand back at the perfect time and momentum to break it on his head, only if he didn’t put his hand up and let the glass hurt his bicep instead.

 

Then, he grabs Jina by her tied hair with one hand and her jaw with the other. He harshly pulls her closer to his masked face. “You really are trouble, aren’t you?”

 

Jina’s reply isn’t verbal. She slips her free hand between them, locks his arms with her own, and pulls him even closer. Pushing his elbows upward painfully, she lands a harsh head-butt on his nose that is equally painful to the pair of them.

 

They fall apart again and Jina’s dizziness comes back temporarily whilst the man’s hands snap up to his nose. Wasting no time, Jina’s hand sneaks behind her back and she pulls out her gun. She takes it off safety and cocks it, stumbling backward while attempting to shake the dizziness out of her head.

 

“Who the fuck—”

 

“You broke my fucking nose!”

 

“Who the fuck are you?!” Jina repeats, yelling over his own scream. She tries looking for any characteristics but the cap on his head shadows his eyes perfectly, leaving her clueless.

 

The man closes the distance between them again before she can process what is happening, making the bullet she shoots go amiss. The punch that lands on her cheek is too strong for her not to stumble back and double over in pain, only to receive a knee to her stomach and another to her face, with enough force to make her fall back with a loud thud.

 

Jina isn’t given any time before she senses the man’s weight on top of her. His bigger hands pin her wrists down to the ground harshly, and her gun falls out of her hand. 

 

The detective’s previously closed eyes snap open when she feels pressure on her windpipe. It blocks out her airway, and the pressure only worsens when his other hand joins in and doubles the impact. 

 

Jina’s face heats up and she can feel her blood stuck in her head. Her hands snap to his and she tries to weakly pry them off. Once she notices that she is miserably failing, she lets other reflexes kick in.

 

She bucks her hips up firmly. It catches the man on top of her off guard and makes him loosen his grip long enough for her to quickly push him to the side. On her knees between his legs, Jina raises one angry fist and lets it fall to his face harshly to the point that his head swings to the side. She is gasping for air, but a hand grabs the collar of his jacket to pin him down while landing another punch to his face with the other. 

 

But he kicks her back before she could deliver a third one. 

 

Jina tries reaching for her gun again but he kicks it further away and grabs her by the back of her sweatshirt. He easily tosses her to the nearest wall, and she takes down the tall floor lamp that previously illuminated the living room with her. It falls to the ground with a loud crash. 

 

Her mouth falls open in a silent whimper and she wraps an arm around herself. Jina fails to pinpoint where hurts the most but it all does, and she can barely breathe because of it. She puts a hand underneath her and tries to pull herself up, but everything halts when she opens her closed eyes back up. 

 

It’s pitch black.

 

She can still hear the man’s heavy breathing. The only light around her is that coming from the hallway, and it’s just not enough. It’s not fucking enough and she begins to feel the familiarity of her chest tightening.

 

Her eyes are wide open and she keeps looking around frantically so her eyes can adjust to the darkness. Little breath escapes past her lips and she feels adrenaline kick in, and her body shakes. She falls back against the wall and tries to locate the man that is nearing her.

 

“Tsk, tsk, tsk… Look at the mess you’ve made.”

 

“Stay the fuh-fuck a-away from me!” Her voice holds more panic than she would ever like to admit. Fear slowly starts to replace wrath, and her head is weak in the face of that specific feeling.“Don’t come any closer!”

 

“You broke my fucking nose,” The man hisses out. The sharp sound of a knife being pulled out of its cover echoes in the dark house. “If you just didn’t put up a fight, I would’ve been glad to just kill you off.”

 

Her eyes adjust ever so slightly, but her breath still comes out in little pants as panic wildly spikes in her system. She pats down the floor around her to find anything to defend herself with, and she really fucking tries to keep her calm as her mind works against her.

 

It’s dark. It’s dark. Someone is gonna hurt her. It’s fucking dark and she can’t breathe.

 

Jina closes her eyes and balls her hands into fists on the ground, but more darkness only allows her brain to pull up the things she buried deep.

 

“Muh...om...Mom…” 

 

She snaps her eyes back up. They are blurry and heavy with tears and she flinches when the man squats down right in front of her. He takes off his ball cap and his mask, and Jina’s eyes widen even more.

 

“Y-you—”

 

“Shh,” He cuts her off and grazes the tip of his knife on her jaw. “Don’t worry, I’m going for her next.”

 

His smirk makes Jina sick to her stomach, and the familiarity of his features is not of any help to her growing anxiety. They are still fresh in her buzzing memory of a couple of nights ago, even with as little light as she has.

 

Jina’s body shivers. She remembers his hands on her and she suddenly feels disgusted. 

 

She almost went home with him… He approached her for a fucking reason that night and she was too caught up in her head to pay the matter any mind.

 

His smirk makes her sick to her stomach and everything is too dark. Too familiar. Nothing is adding up. Her mind is sending her encrypted signals as she tries to shut the portal of hell that managed to open inside, but nothing is helping. Nothing.

 

An impulse kicks in and she pushes the knife away from her face, letting out a shrike when it cuts her jawline harshly before they both hear the clattering sound it produces as it hits the floor.

 

In split seconds, the man disappears from in front of her when a flash of a figure tackles him to the side. Jina places a hand where he once was and the other snaps to her chest. Her eyes are wide as she crawls forwards, but she still can’t see anything. She looks over towards the door, it’s open yet the light coming from outside is not enough to make her see any better.

 

She’s too scared to look back again. What if he’s right there? What would she do? What if he’s still hidden within the darkness like he always was?  

 

The memories are mixing with reality and she doesn’t know what to believe nor how to act, and it's so fucking crippling. 

 

Jina shakily tries to crawl where she can see light the most towards the door, and her hand slips on one of the steps leading down to it. The continuous jabs and bashes of fist against bone reach her ears, and she squeezes her eyes shut.

 

It’s all so triggering. Too triggering, everything at once.

 

“Stop...Stop!” Jina puts her hands on her ears.

 

Jina doesn’t wanna open her eyes. The noise stops and she hears panting, and distant footsteps start to come closer. A broken sob breaks out of her dry throat. She covers her head and curls herself against the wall to brace herself from the impact she knows she will feel again.

 

Why is he still here? Why? After all these years, how does he still exist in every darkened corner of her mind?

 

The steps are louder, he’s right there.

 

“I’m suh-sorry! Please!” Jina shouts and her body shudders violently. She doesn’t wanna open her eyes. “I-I didn’t do anything!”

 

“Jina?”

 

A hand touches her. She can’t help but flinch back harshly and let out shrike, wishing the wall would just open and swallow her whole.

 

“Hey, hey,” A voice calls, but it’s not the one she’s expecting. She stays in her position nonetheless. “It’s Hoseok. Jina?”

 

“I-i didn’t do an-anything…”

Hoseok tries to touch her crouching figure once more. His fingers lightly graze her bicep and she flinches again, but he doesn’t pull back this time. He slowly lets his hand settle on her and scoots closer to look at her clearly. He sees blood on her shirt, and his heart rate picks up just a little.

 

Just a little. 

 

“Look at me,” Hoseok tells her gently.

 

Fuck. She’s shaking so bad.

 

Jina relaxes ever so slightly under his touch. He pulls her from her position to face him slowly so it wouldn’t make things worse, and he is suddenly hit with a sense of deja vu.  

 

That position is a little too familiar.

 

His breath is knocked out of his chest when he finally takes a look at her.

 

“Jesus fucking christ…” 

 

It is dark as Hoseok examines Jina’s features with disbelief swarming in his eyes and mind, and he watches as recognition fails to fall on her dazed eyes. She’s still looking away from him, face scrunched up and shoulders up to her ears.

 

Jina’s face is messily covered with blood, features barely recognizable. She has a cut on her hairline, one on one of her cheeks, and another on her jaw. Red flows freely from all of them to trail down her neck and stain her white sweatshirt, and it keeps her thrashed hair stuck to her face. 

 

Fuck, it feels so foreign to look at her this way.

 

Is that how she felt when their roles were reversed?

 

“Meh...Muhm...Mo-m...”

 

“Don’t worry.”

 

“It...It’s so da...dark. It’s so dark, please, he’ll hit me again—”

 

“He’s not gonna hit you again,” Hoseok lets out assuringly. His grasp on her becomes a little firmer when he notices the way she rocked with little gasps of lost breaths. He looks around to find a light switch that has to be somewhere near when she tries to hide her face in her hands again. He finds one close to the door then looks down at her, but she only curls on herself even more. “I’ll go turn the lights on, yeah? I’ll be right back.”

 

The detective only responds with a little gasp and keeps her face hidden from him.

 

Hoseok gets up and reaches for the switch he found, and it lights up the area by the door. It illuminates enough light for him to spot another one further into the house and he hurries to switch it on too, then he is soon sliding on his knees in front of Jina again.

 

He almost shivers at the familiarity.

 

Hoseok tries to put a hand on hers to pry it off of her face. She flinches again, this time with a louder shrike of pure dread. “Don’t—Don’t touch me!”

 

“Jina…”

 

She braces herself again. Pulling her knees up to her chest, she clasps her hands tightly on top of her head, and her body still trembles.

 

“I didn’t duh-do anythi..ng wrong!”

 

“I’m not gonna hurt you,” Although his tone is gentle, he firmly pries her hands away from her head. “Look at me, Jina,” He speaks out, pushing her shoulders up so she could stop cowering away and forces her to look at him. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

She can see him. 

 

The lights are back on.

 

Their gazes finally meet.

“Listen to me. You’re safe, yeah? He’s not hurting you again.” Hoseok tries to sound as reassuring as possible. “I’m not gonna let anyone hurt you.”

 

But she stays quiet for too long. To the point that Hoseok starts to think that she will spasm out of his grasp and start panicking again. Soon enough, though, he feels her relax gradually under his touch, and fresh tears make her desperate eyes glimmer. 

 

“You won’t?” The detective sounds as small as she makes herself look.

 

He feels like an imposter once again. He shouldn’t be witnessing her in this state, it’s so foreign to his eyes, but overall, Hoseok is madly confused. He thought someone like Jina would at least… be in a better state than she is after an incident like this. It’s true, the man’s face was already ruined before Hoseok lays a hand on him, but what the fuck could have happened to make someone like Jina cower and beg like that?

 

Concern is spelled out on his face and he doesn’t try to hide it, but she’s still waiting for his answer.

 

“I won’t.” 

 

His eyes soften while hers fill up with tears before she finally breaks right then and there. A sob rocks her smaller body and Hoseok realizes that he fails to have control over his body once again when he wraps an arm supportingly around her back, pulling her in. A hand falls on the back of her head as the woman wails, and her hands latch on his arms. Her grip is tight and firm, and she pulls herself even closer.

 

What the fuck happened?

 

He pats her head comfortingly. “It’s okay. Everything’s okay.”

 

The sound of glass breaking makes them both flinch. Jina lets out a loud yelp as Hoseok covers her from the vase that hits the floor right before them, shattering into pieces. 

 

Looking to the side, Hoseok finds the intruder on his knees, a hand on the couch beside him as he helps himself up slowly. His face is no longer recognizable, and Hoseok sees the blood from the aftermath of his actions trail down the bastard’s face.

 

He spits out blood and locks his gaze with Hoseok’s.

 

“You want more?” Hoseok’s expression is no longer gentle when he looks at him. He finds protest from Jina as he tries to rise to his feet when she attempts to keep him close, but it remains a failure when he pulls out of her grasp anyways. “I mean, I was gonna kill you anyway—”

 

“You shouldn’t be here.”

 

“Well, I fucking am,” Hoseok takes a step closer, gesturing around with his arms. He takes a brief look around to find anything that he can use to his advantage, then locks his gaze with the attacker’s again.  “What are you gonna do about it?”

 

Already expecting the response, Hoseok ducks away from the fist that swings towards him. He swiftly lands a punch to the man’s gut and grabs him by the shoulder to keep him standing straight so he could land another one to his cheekbone, then he watches as he falls back down with a pained grunt.

 

Hoseok looks down at him.“Who sent you?”

 

“Fuck off,” The man groans, his arms wrapped around his stomach in distress.

Jina watches all of this unfold in front of her in disbelief, and her sanity slowly knocks back into her head. She can still feel herself shake when she pulls herself up to her feet. She keeps her eyes on Hoseok’s back.

 

He bends down and grabs the man by his collar, then pulls him up again.

 

But Jina soon feels her stomach drop when Hoseok is kicked to a wall, and a sound of a gut-wrenching punch echoes in her ears.

 

That is when the detective finally snaps out of her trance.

 

Jina sprints across the living room and kicks herself off of the ground in a jump to land on the attacker’s back. She wastes no time wrapping her arms around his neck in a chokehold, putting all her remaining energy into tightening her arms around his head. His hands snap to her forearm and she hears a clinking sound of something falling to the ground whilst he tries to pry her away. 

 

Except, the damage is already done, and she can feel his body going limp in her arms. He spasms once, then once more against her, but his movements only result in Jina tightening her arms around his very, very red head until he finally falls completely limp in her arms.

 

She barely manages to land on her feet swingingly as she lets his body fall to the side. Dizzy, Jina bends down and puts her hands on her knees for support, and closes her blurring eyes. When the house turns quiet, she starts to feel her injuries again, and the woman almost falls to her knees. 

 

Jina opens her eyes and pants. Little whimpers make their way past her lips as she tries to straighten up, but she freezes when her eyes fall on the floor.

 

“Jina…” Hoseok’s voice sounded choked.

 

Why is the knife bloody?

 

Jina snaps up.

 

“I think…” Hoseok pauses. 

 

His breath hitches and Jina is scared to follow his eyes when he looks down on his own body. He slumps back against the wall and his hand moves to his abdomen, and Jina’s eyes accidentally follow the movement.

 

There’s a large bloodstain on one side of his abdomen.

 

Jina’s eyes widen in horror.

 

Hoseok lets out a shaky breath. “I think we have a bit of a problem.”

Throughout her whole life, Jina’s seen a lot of blood.

Either in her work or personal life, she got used to the texture and color of crimson. If it’s her own, a stranger’s, or a close person’s, at some point she stopped believing that the day will come when she rids herself of all the pain it comes with. She believes that said pain started accumulating on her way earlier than it should’ve.

The first booboo children might remember are often those from falling a little too harshly from a slide, or scrapping their knees after falling while running after a kitten, right?

Jina’s was…hospitalizing. She failed to understand what initialized it until she asked her mother about it in her late adolescents.

“Why did I get this scar, mom?”

Daeun stared down at her daughter. Her heart clenched in her chest. “What?”

Jina looked down at her bicep, her eyes trailing down the patch of skin that’s lighter than her skin tone. Looking back at her mother from her place on the bed, she felt her hand loosen around the braid she was attempting beautifully to create.

Jina raised up her scarred arm, displaying it to her mother. “Why did I get this?”

“I’m not sure this is a good idea, baby.”

“No,” Jina turned around, letting her half-braided hair fall out of her mother’s hands. “I want to know.” She watched as Daeun looked at her, a silent battle rolling off behind her eyes over whether she should tell her or not, and Jina understood that. “It’s not gonna change anything.”

“It might trigger—”

“I remember the incident.” Jina cut her off and sighed a little while looking down at her bicep again. “I remember how it happened and what happened afterward. I just wanna know why .”

 

Dawn licked her lip and took in a large breath, sympathetic eyes falling on her daughter’s scar whilst Jina’s trail up to her face.

 

“He was out drinking, I’m sure you remember that much.” Daeun started, her hands falling between her crossed legs. “I was putting you and your brother to bed because it was your first day of school the next day, right?”

Jina nodded.

“He didn’t know that I paid for you to start school.” Daeun pursed her lips almost apologetically. “He didn’t like how I put the money I got into you two going to school instead of giving it to him, basically. One thing leads to another, our voices raised, it turned physical, you both woke up, and, well, you know the rest.”

A few seconds afterward, both of them were just looking at each other. Jina’s face remained expressionless, while Daeun started showing signs of regret. “Your brother was bigger than you at the time, that’s why the impact affected you the most.”

“Yeah,” Jina nodded, copying her mother’s position by holding her hands together in her lap, looking down at them.

At that time, she’d already known how bad her mother felt about everything that happened, but she had nothing to do to fix it. All she could do and successfully did was to try to let her know that it wasn’t her fault. All that kept Jina going while growing up, even after her brother left them for good, was the day she could put her father to his doom with her own hands.

Until that day came, she only saw more blood. The more she grew and resisted, the more blood she watched paint the walls she continues to build around herself. 

So, naturally, when she sees how Hoseok lays in a pool of his own blood, she won’t be so shocked, right?

Wrong.

Staring at him, Jina feels her hurting eyes well up with tears again. At some point, she realizes that she was holding her breath when she gasps out for air, and Hoseok flinches. 

“I’m fine.”

“No…” Jina’s eyes stay glued to his abdomen. “You… You’re not!”

Hoseok throws his head back and he begins to slide down the wall behind him. “Yeah, yeah I’m not.”

“Oh my god,” It starts hitting her, then. That she needs to do something. She hurries to his side and helps him sit down on the floor. “Oh my god!”

Hoseok groans out when he settles on the floor and a shaky hand hovers over his wound. Jina’s gaze snaps to him in alarm when she settles beside him on her knees. He closes his eyes and Jina looks around, trying to look for something, anything, until she looks down on herself. 

“You...You need to lay down,” Jina tells him whilst she slides her hoodie over her neck. The cold air attacks her bare forearms at the loss of the heavy layer that leaves her in a dark oversized shirt, but she can barely feel any external factor around her anymore. She slightly raises the hoodie in her hand in front of Hoseok’s face. “I’ll put this on, alright?”

“Fuck…”

He still has one hand around her shoulder as she scrunches up the hoodie in her hands and moves it towards his wound hurriedly, her gaze going back and forth between his eyes and the gash of blood. Hoseok pulls his shaking hand away enough for Jina to press her hoodie against his abdomen before she grabs it and places it on top of the hoodie.

“Lay down,” Jina tells him. She gently leans him to the side and his face scrunches up in pain. He has to lay down. “Come on. You have to.”

Hoseok manages to lock his arm around her neck for support as she helps him into a lying position on the floor, but the series of pained sounds that he produces are too raw and Jina feels like she is about to break down.

But she can’t. She fucking can’t. He wouldn’t be here if she wasn’t too stubborn.

 “I’m so fucking sorry.”

“Shut up,” Hoseok groans out. “I…ah… I don’t have… the energy… for this.”

Once he’s laying on his back, Jina replaces her left hand with the right one. Her now bloody, but free hand pulls out the phone resting in her back pocket, and she punches in the number 112 before she pushes the phone to her ear hurriedly. When Hoseok lets out another groan, Jina holds the phone between her shoulder and her ear and places her other hand on his abdomen.

“Ah…!”

Jina barely waits for the person on the line to speak after she hears a click. “This is Lieutenant Park Jina. I was attacked in my home, and an acquaintance was severely injured. I managed to knock out the culprit but he’ll be waking up soon. I need an ambulance and—”

“A unit is on its way to you, Lieutenant. Stay put.”

Hoseok’s sharp intakes of breaths start to get way too loud for Jina’s liking. She lets her phone slip out and falls to the floor. His hand stirs underneath hers, and Jina notices his failing attempts into standing back up. 

She raises up on her knees. “Where the hell do you think you’re going?!”

“I ca…can’t…my legs aren’t—”

“Stay down,” Jina forces him down once more, struggling to catch her own breath. “Please, Hoseok, suh-stay the fuck down!”

His hand is still stuck between both of Jina’s as he moans out. “Ah, god…” 

But Hoseok starts to feel his hands go limp too. The only thing that keeps them in place is Jina’s. He’s sweating and his hair sticks to his forehead, less and less oxygen reaching his lungs painfully as time goes by. 

He attempts to take in a deep breath, but it only results in surges of pain initiating from the heavy weight he feels on his abdomen to spread everywhere in his weakening body, and he can’t help but yell out. 

He sees twos. Jina’s rapid mumbles of anxiety begin to fade a little. Like she is talking from the end of a tunnel. Like he went underwater, blue nothingness surrounding him, slowly cutting out his senses one by one. He feels Jina press harder against his bleeding wound, but this time, he doesn’t find enough energy to express his pain.

“Ji…Ji…na…”

“No,” The detective shakes her head. She hovers over him so he wouldn’t have to look around to see her. “You’ll fucking wait. You’ll wait. Keep your eyes open, Jung Hoseok or I swear to god—”

Her voice sounds like it echos a little, but he is. He is trying to keep his eyes open.

Letting out a low groan, Hoseok reaches out with his free hand. With the remaining energy he has, he grabs onto Jina’s shirt just like he did the day before. Just like she did just now, like he’s holding on for dear life.

He knows that the moment he lets go of her, that’ll be it.

He is losing so much blood. He sees how bloody Jina’s ruined white hoodie is.

“No, no, no…” Hoseok’s eyes cross, and if it weren’t for the little sloppy slaps to his cheeks that were a little harsher than they should’ve been, he would’ve lost his grip on Jina. “Stay awake. I’m begging you, Hoseok…”

“Why…” Hoseok lets out breathily. Dark spots swarm in his blurry vision. “ah..aren’t you leh-letting…me…duh-die?”

“Please…” He can hear the way her voice breaks. “Just stay awake. Please.”

Hoseok coughs twice. He barely catches the way Jina’s bloodshot eyes widened at the sight before it all turns black.

Pushing hard with her remaining hand, Jina grabs the hand that’s clutching on her shirt desperately. “Don’t fucking die on me, Jung Hoseok!”

Her voice is distorted and echoey, but Hoseok can still feel her grip on both of his hands.

Damn, is this how he’ll go?

“No, no, no!”

The hand he has on Jina’s shirt uncontrollably loosens gradually. The sound of her desperate calls of his name fade and fade until they’re completely lost in the void, and he can’t feel anything anymore.

And maybe it doesn’t feel so bad like this.

Notes:

hhheh
welp. there is that i guess. i hope you enjoyed reading!
new aspects will be introduced in the next chapter and the story only keeps getting loaded the more we go!! im so excited for what's to come!! If you have any questions please do leave them in the comments<3
KUDOS AND FEEDBACK IS ALWAYS APPRECIATED!! SEE YOU NEXT TIME<3

Chapter 8: otto

Summary:

“It’s your choice.” Jina leans away from the table. She walks around, settling behind him to whisper in his ear. “But when you see me standing with your blood on my hands, don’t say I didn’t tell you so.”

Notes:

NOTE: I DID NOT EDIT HALF OF THIS CHAPTER! I WILL DO VERY SOON!
are yall still there? lol
HELLOO!!! i'M A FREE WOMAN NOW!!! NO MORE FINALS!! (even though i started the second semester right away hhaha)
i hate it here
anywho!!!!!! THIS CHAPTER IS FUUULL OF PROSE AND BACKSTORY UNCOVERING SO!!! exciting tehee
all i have to say is try to read between the lines lol
THANK YOU IF YOU'RE STILL READING all your feedback and kudos genuinely make my day!!
i hope you enjoy this one too! next update will be sooner than u think;)
LES GET IT!

Breathing is hard. Moving is hard. Everything feels wrong.

 

Exhaustion continues to ride on Jina’s back like a clingy ghost, refusing to let go of her whatsoever. She should’ve stayed more in the hospital, she knows this. She knows it would have made her feel better and get back on her feet faster, but she couldn’t let that fucker go anywhere before she sees him herself.

 

Jeongsu didn’t want her on her own case at first. It’s logical since it’s personal and her emotions can get a hold of her better than her mind can. She knows all of this well, yet couldn’t let it go.

 

When Namjoon told Jina that Jeongsu didn’t want her on the case, only two days after the incident, she set a task for herself to even beg if she had to if it meant she would join the investigation. At first, the man wasn’t budging. He kept talking about how she isn’t in the right physical nor mental condition to get back to work. 

 

And he was right, she knew that. 

 

But it is personal.

 

That man came for her specifically. It wasn’t just a burglar or even a serial killer, he knew who he was going for and he wanted it quiet and quick. It all feels way too big for her to not join in.

 

And if someone is coming for her, it means her mother is on the line as well.

 

It’s all definitely because of whatever the fuck she got herself involved in, and Jina finds herself throwing the whole blame on Hoseok.

 

Because he dragged her in. No matter how much she budged or fidgeted he continues to hold her by the neck, and she either breaks it trying to escape or willingly gives in. 

 

Despite how thin Jina’s will to live is, she still can’t even afford to die. Not as long as her mother is on the face of the earth. Who would keep her safe, then?

 

So she lets Hoseok grab and choke her as much as he wants if it means she still has her grasp on Daeun. 

 

For now, at least.

 

But all this hatred and blame only lasts so long, before they fade from Jina’s head, replaced by things she hardly wants to admit.

 

As she sits down in front of Ahn Changmin, fully observing him under actual light, Jina notices how barely recognizable his features have become compared to the times she’s seen him. 

 

Painted with blue, purple, and red, she still sees the traces of the face she saw back in the nightclub, and she just wishes those would fade too.

 

But he  cvdid that. Hoseok did that to him.

 

Changmin is a couple of years younger than Jina, but of a taller and buffer built. Thick dark hair falls on his eyes and covers the deep gash on the side of one of them, and it is clear how irritating the cut must be as they stare at each other for the longest time in the interrogation room. The eye is slightly more closed and hooded than the other and he can’t keep it open for long.

 

The detective tries to bite back the urge to just fucking reach there and punch him one more time for good measures.

 

“I’m gonna cut the chase,” Jina starts. She looks at the fist she has under the table, catching the slight tremor in it.  “I’m pretty sure my colleagues have been asking you the same thing since you got here but…” She leans forwards, placing her elbows on the table. “Who sent you?”

 

“If I didn’t answer your colleagues , why would I answer you?” 

 

“I don’t know, you tell me.” Jina shrugs. “Do you wanna serve a full sentence for attempted murder, or do you want it lessened?”

 

Changmin chuckles cockily and looks down for a couple of seconds before meeting Jina’s eyes again with a smirk. “I’m getting the hell out of here sooner or later. I don’t give a fuck.”

 

“You sound too confident for a person with that many bruises on his face,” Jina tries to relax back in her uncomfortable chair. “It’s kinda funny if you ask me.”

 

“I still got your pretty boyfriend in the ER, though.” Changmin shoots right away, his smirk widening as he watches her tense visibly. “Is  he dead yet?”

 

“No, actually, he isn’t,” Jina replies. 

 

No one knows if Hoseok will make it. He’s not dead, but fuck… he sure looks like it because he isn’t exactly alive either. 

 

And the way she feels about it, the way she knows she will feel if he dies, Jina doesn’t know if she can handle it well.

 

It was so...messy. So bloody. 

 

The hand under the table turns into a fist, and Jina hopes she looks as calm as she wants to be. “You missed. How dumb of you, really.”

 

“What was Jung Hoseok doing in your apartment, detective?” Changmin leans his elbows on the table, shaking his bangs away from his eyes to look at Jina, who gives no reaction whatsoever. “Weren’t you supposed to be at each other’s throats? Did he kiss the humiliation better?”

 

“Is this the part where you try to get on my nerves?” Jina asks, unfazed. Changmin’s expression slowly falls a little, and his confident shoulders slump at the same speed. “Is it? Because I don’t know about you, but it’s not really working.”

 

Changmin cracks his neck. He’s trying to assert dominance again by spreading out his shoulders. “Listen, detective—“

 

“No, you listen, you piece of shit,” Jina slams one of her palms down on the table. She sits on the edge of her seat and she tries to ignore the sharp pain that strikes through her ribcage. “You’re gonna tell me who sent you and who’s providing you with information, or I can assure you that  I’m finding out myself. And when I do, there isn’t gonna be anything for you to fucking smirk about. Ya hear?!”

 

Changmin is taken aback. Hell, he could even be intimidated. Jina can see that clearly.

 

“If you know all of this, I’m pretty sure you know that I’m one of the aces around here. Sooner or later, if you get out or not, I’m gonna find you and everyone behind you, and I’m taking it all down. All of it. I’m pretty fucking known to make rats scatter around like scared deer. If you cut the chase and decide to spill now, you get your sentence lessened. If you still decide to be a stubborn little bitch, you’re gonna rot in one of those cells until the end of your time, in vain, because I’m gonna still get to the bottom of it.”

 

The room falls silent. Changmin’s eyes are blank but alert as he looks up at her. Somewhere in her rant she stood up and planted both her hands face down on the table, so she towers over him intimidatingly.

 

But she’s in too much pain. She can feel herself start to shake and her breath is getting caught up in her hurting body, but she’d die before she shows any of this to the prying eyes that watch her every move. 

 

Changmin doesn’t reply. Doesn’t even move. He just keeps staring up at Jina with a clenched jaw, like he lost the key to his voice box.

 

Jina takes that as her answer.

 

“It’s your choice.” She leans away. She can’t help but limp a little as she walks around the table, to settle behind Changmin. Putting her hands on his tense shoulders, Jina gives them a little squeeze. He tenses under her touch and she leans down, her lips close to his ear so only he could hear. “But when you see me standing with your blood on my hands, don’t say I didn’t tell you so.”

 

 

---

 

 

Hoseok always wondered how his end would be like.

Will he be going like his parents did? Or will his parting be more peaceful than that? Is he gonna go soaked in gooey blood, laying in some ditch as he takes his last breath, or will he be going in a bed of silk, with the feeling of someone’s hand holding his with the world’s gentleness, reminding him of what he had in his youth?

He hates both possibilities.

The first, because even after all that he went through, suffering still would’ve chased after him till his doom. The second, well, just because of how awfully unrealistic it sounds. 

It becomes harder, the thought of parting, the more he is surrounded by people he’d give his life for. People he aches to keep safe and doesn’t trust anyone else to do the job.

But he’s always been run after by the dark cloaks of death since his very birth. No matter how much his parents have tried to avoid the possibilities, Hoseok has started to think that it’s just his fate.

It’s unfair because he was such a happy child. Going in a sulky room, the sound of his laughter would echo on the walls melodically and light it even amidst the dullness they continued to live in. 

People around him would sit back and watch as he spreads wholesomeness and colors in the turbulence of their lives, yet it all went away way too soon.

Hoseok doesn’t notice where or when exactly it started to fade. If it was gradual or sudden, he fails to remember the transition. As if someone sneaky flipped a switch in a room he doesn’t recognize, and it all went black. 

He doesn’t know where the switch is. Can barely even feel the walls under his fingers.

No one blamed him for that.

Handling responsibility early in his life made Hoseok mature quickly, hardly grasping the joy of his late teenage years and early twenties. 

He barely had finished his senior year in high school when he had to start taking care of the business that his father had left behind after his death years before. 

By the end of his freshman year of university, his body count was rising rapidly. In more ways than one.

It kept going downhill even faster at that time because, at some point, even Yoongi and Seokjin weren’t nearby in the dark room he is trapped in anymore. 

It’s not like they abandoned him, they all knew they’d never do that to each other. It was more like… they just grew up. As Yoongi and Seokjin both graduated before him, Yoongi started taking his father’s place in the company as CEO and Seokjin opened his own law firm, while Hoseok continued two more years as a business cyber-student who partially holds a mafia family as a side-job.

Years went and he graduated, got his control over his father’s public business along with Yoongi as co-CEO, and their family began to exert more power and expand in domains their parents failed to take control over. 

Having control over their family and business with this much efficacy despite having two heads brought them more attention in the two worlds, but it also brought more fearful rats trying to eat away the hand that reaches out to them.

Jungkook officially joined in right after Hoseok started uni, Jimin a couple of years after Yoongi graduated, then Taehyung came around a month after.

It was wonderful how everyone started going against the  ‘No romance in business’ rule, then. Even if it was a secret. Even if they never even realize it happened.

And Hoseok was left alone.

Well, alone with Seokjin. But the older had much more control over his needs and emotions than Hoseok ever will. 

Seokjin is always too absorbed in his job to even put a thought in other life aspects. Being a consigliere isn’t easy, as he always explains, and he can’t afford such distractions. And he is right, Hoseok thinks so too, that they can’t afford such vulnerabilities in a world like theirs. 

But as much as Hoseok hates to admit it, he always has wanted something like this in his life. 

Wanted to feel vulnerable with no walls or complications. Without feeling pathetic the day after.

He doesn’t think he can ever have something like this.

Even though Seokjin always makes it seem like he would never care for anyone outside of his circle, Hoseok can’t help but wonder if he wants the same thing he does even if he doesn’t admit it aloud. Just like Hoseok never does.

They’re only human after all, right?

At some point, Hoseok got used to the crippling loneliness that unpacked and started living in his life rent-free. He created this little pattern of his without even noticing, and shifted his life to a never-ending cycle of booze, sex, and blood. Sometimes all of them together.

He’d already gotten tired of looking for something that isn’t even there to begin with.

He’s been living in hell for god knows how long, what made him think that he can ever reach out and have a taste of what heaven would feel like? 

His inner circle is enough, right?

Then why is the first person he recognizes after endless seas of darkness isn’t even anywhere near that circle?

He really fucking lost his mind, hasn’t he?

Hoseok’s body must’ve forgotten how to function for a minute there because he doesn’t move at all. His eyelids are heavy, so heavy, that he almost gives up on trying to open them before something other than black spreads in his vision.

There’s only a dim, yellow light coming from somewhere nearby, but his eyes are still blurry. They are only half open and he can’t recognize where he is yet. 

Is he in hell? The dim light is fire, isn’t it? 

But Hoseok hates fire.

Instead of hearing the cackles of the fire that awaits to swallow him whole, a steady beeping sound echoes, and everything else is quiet, except for the sound of steady breaths that he somehow picks up.

“Hoseok?”

His body reacts before he can put a face to the voice. 

Is it heaven, then?

Hoseok struggles to move his head to the left, in the direction he heard his name come from. It’s all still so blurry, but he can see an outline of a person sitting somewhere beside him.

He wants to close his eyes again. His battery must be running out once more.

The person stands up abruptly and closes the distance between them to hover over him. He blinks when their features blend together, his eyebrows furrowing ever so slightly. He blinks again and the person’s breath hitches loudly. It starts to get clearer when he blinks once more, and features paint themselves on the previously blank canvas in front of him.

Worried, teary eyes look down at him.

So familiar.

“You’re awake.” The whisper is airy and empty, but the facial features accompanying it are saying otherwise. “Can you hear me?”

“J-uhh…”

He tries to. To call out the name right at the tip of his tongue, but his words slur and mix, and he fails to have control over the sounds coming out of his lips.

“You’re...awake.” The voice weavers and he feels a hand on his bicep. He lets out a breath at the gesture, and he really fucking wants to go back to sleep but he can’t stop looking at the person above him, even with dazed eyes and a malfunctioning body. 

But the face slips out of his sight. He can hear hurried footsteps walking away. Where he previously felt a touch on his bicep feels cold and his left hand moves as he weakly, desperately reaches out to them.

To her.

“He’s awake!” She exclaims breathlessly. “He just opened his eyes!”

Hoseok frowns at the light that comes from the now open door. His eyes hurt even more. Letting out a hoarse moan, he tries to raise his hand up to cover them, but the movement falls short when he finds that he’s yet to have much control over his body.

The light is soon blocked by people he sees rush in before his eyes give up on him and fall closed. 

“Jung Hoseok-ssi, can you hear me?”

He recognizes the voice, but this time, he fails to put a face to it.

Hoseok groans weakly at the sudden flashlight that hits one of his eyes. He tries to force them closed, and it is soon pushed to the other eye before it’s turned off completely. He keeps his eyes closed but a furrow appears between his eyebrows, conveying his uncomfortableness just enough for those currently around him.

“Hobi-Hyung…”

Jeongguk.

“Why isn’t he responding?”

“Hoseok?”

“It might take him some time. There’s no need to worry now.”

“He’s fine now though, right?”

His senses spike at that voice but he fails to open his eyes this time around.

“I wouldn’t say fine, but yes. He’s recovering.”

“I’m...I’m staying with him. I’m staying until he wakes up.”

A sense of safety settles in his chest as he recognizes the voices around him one by one, and his body involuntarily relaxes. Jungkook, Yoongi, and Taehyung conversate with the person he is yet to recognize, whilst the voice he wants to hear more of, falls completely quiet.

But Hoseok knows  she is still there.

The frown on his face slowly ease into a neutral expression, and the beeping that previously picked up its speed was slowing down again. Their voices begin to fade slowly until everything falls quiet around him again.

 

---

 

 

Jina’s little chat with Changmin left her sleepless that night, then the two nights after. Her body still screams at her to rest but her mind doesn’t grant her the few hours of peace she continuously craves. It is constantly moving, refusing to be tamed down and frustration and anxiety roam around freely.

 

She was told she shouldn’t stay in bed for long in order to heal her fractured rib well, so Jeongsu allowed her to go back to work on limited movements. No stakeouts, no emergencies, and no far investigations, and Jina never found it in her to complain. 

 

Jina knows she has to get better as soon as possible. If she’s left unsupervised, this won’t be happening. 

 

Yoongi informed her that she’ll be watched, just in case anything else happens. As irritating as it feels to know you have a pair of eyes on the back of your head 24/7, it is still an appreciated gesture. Even though it didn’t allow her irritation to subside, because Namjoon is smart.

 

He’ll realize something is wrong sooner or later. It’s only a matter of time. 

 

What Changmin said had already raised Namjoon’s suspicion about her involvement with Jung Hoseok, even more so than it already was from the moment he heard about what happened. 

 

Explaining to everyone else how he ended up at her apartment that day was a piece of cake, but it never got through to Namjoon. 

 

She’d said that he’d offered her a meal as an apology that day, and being the oh so nice gentleman he is, he was picking her up when he heard the gunshot that fired. 

 

Jeongsu looked kind of confused about it at first, she noticed how his eyebrows furrowed then, but he didn’t question her afterward. It was kind of logical to everyone, anyways, since her mom backed her alibi up by confirming how the pair of them have been on speaking terms, and how Hoseok has dropped by a couple of times before

 

Jina thinks that this explanation only made Namjoon more suspicious, but that could be just in her head.

 

He’s her best friend, why wouldn’t she tell him about all of this? About her involvement with Hoseok and how her intuition towards him’s been changed in a blink of an eye? 

 

Namjoon knows it isn’t like her to let something like this slide by, even more so when it involves her pride since Hoseok has made sure to tear it all apart from their first encounter. 

 

Namjoon never mentioned anything. Never suspected her aloud or accused her of anything, but he’s quiet. He watches and comforts her and helps her get by as he usually would under any other circumstance, but it only feels like he is waiting for her to fall on her knees and confess.

 

And Jina truly wishes she can. Things would’ve been so much easier if she could. 

 

What she can do, though, is act dumb. 

 

After what happened, Namjoon made Jina and Daeun stay with him, saying he won’t be able to sleep at night if the pair of them are alone. As much as Jina is truly grateful, she’s scared. Being too close to him is only pushing her limits further, and she doesn’t know if she can handle seeing him daily without breaking down right then and there. 

 

It’s all too much. Too heavy for her to keep it all to herself.

 

She can only hope that he doesn’t notice the dark car that parks a couple of buildings down from wherever she is.

A ticking bomb. The pair of them watch the timer count down in a painfully slow manner, and one of them more patient than the other.

And Jina’s patience runs even thinner when she notices the way her stomach twists in worry every time her thoughts drag her back to Hoseok.

She tries to avoid it all. To avoid the scenes she finds flashing through her eyes when she closes them, and those random, little thoughts that spread in her head like a parasite. It is a hard task, to avoid it all, and she fails to put it into motion a considerable amount of times, until she finds herself by his hospital bed one day.

The detective feels lost within her own emotions, then. She can’t understand what she should and shouldn’t feel, but she feels it all nonetheless. 

Because he’s the reason she’s involved in all of this, Right? He’s the reason she feels unsafe in the world again, the reason why she can’t sleep at night. She should be livid.

But he’s right there. He lays there quietly and it pains Jina, because she is the reason he’s laying there, almost lifeless, stuck somewhere between life and death. The monitor beside him beeps and beeps, and he stays still. Doesn’t move an inch.

He held her so tight, that night by the door. He let her sob in his chest and hold on to him and he just held her, and Jina doesn’t fucking understand why. There was a mutual connection there that glued them together and it pisses Jina off that, even for a second, she believed the words that came out of his mouth when he tried to tell her that it all  would be fine.

Because none of it is. Because Jina was scared for him. She didn’t want him hurt, and when he was, it didn’t feel like it was supposed to feel for her. She thought seeing him in a pool of his own blood would be satisfying to watch, to end it all and restore her pride, but she didn’t feel like that. She fucking didn’t.

The detective can’t put her hands on the reason why she absentmindedly changed her perspective of him like that in such a short period of time. 

If it was the way he took care of her when she was drunk that night, or how she found herself taking care of him the morning after when he was having a panic attack. How his sobs sounded agonizing to her ear, holding so much pain that felt almost triggering. 

How he had held her hand back in his office, voluntarily appearing vulnerable with that exhausted gaze of his, seeming like he didn’t wanna let go.

But… is it all of this, or is it the way he held onto her again, bleeding out and screaming in pain in the car while Jeongguk drove?

or just...all of them combined?

He was sweating so much. His face was paling by the second and Jina couldn’t breath when he suddenly screamed. His eyes were squeezed shut and his hand shot out to his wound. Jina had her hand there with a cleaner cloth because he was still bleeding too much. 

His fingers latched on her hand and Taehyung turned around from the front seat to hold him down, and Jina freezes.

“What happened?!” Jeongguk yelled hurriedly, trying to get a glance of his hyung. He only hears Jina’s curses and Hoseok’s pained moans for a few seconds. “Taehyung?!”

“I-I don’t know…” Taehyung says and glances up at Jina, who can’t take her eyes off of Hoseok for the life of her. “You need to hurry, Jeongguk. I-I don’t think we... have much time left.”

And Jeongguk does just that, except he takes a sharp turn, and Hoseok yells out again.

“I’m so sorry…” Jina whimpers and presses, and he doesn’t let go of her hand. She sees his eyes flutter open and they meet hers, but he looked so fucking out of it. She puts her other hand on top of his, the way they were back in her house, and she holds it tightly. “Stay with me, huh? We’re almost there!”

But he didn’t keep his eyes open. They close and he lets out a low moan, and Taehyung reaches for his face. He called his name and gave his colorless face a little slap to make him open his eyes again, but he didn't. 

His body lost tension and he fell limp again, and the fire of Jina’s  panic raised further. 

Jina snaps her eyes up at Taehyung, who seemed too panicked to move as they share a look, but he pushes a hand to Hoseok’s neck, and his eyes are wider when he looks back up at Jina.

“No pulse.”

Jina froze.

“No pulse?” Jeongguk asks, and the sound of the engine roars. “What do you mean no pulse?”

“No, no, no, no…” Jina lets go of one hand and she reaches for his face, painting it red as she tries to shake him back to consciousness. “No, no, you need to wake up!”

Taehyung is frozen and Jeongguk screams. “We’re almost fucking there!! What do you mean no pulse?!!”

The car suddenly comes to a halt and Jeongguk jumps out of it, and Jina can hear multiple footsteps nearing so hurriedly that she flinches. The door behind Hoseok’s head opens and someone is pulling him out, but Jina is dragged along when the grip on her hand doesn’t budge.

The area is flooded with people in white coats and nurse scrubs, but this isn’t an emergency room. Jina doesn't have time to look around her before she’s dragged forwards again when they start rolling Hoseok inside on the bed, and he’s still not letting go of her. 

His grip didn’t even loosen.

 

 

Jina doesn’t know what she is supposed to feel, but she knows that she’s feeling the exact opposite of whatever it is.

When she sees his eyes flutter again in the hospital room, she almost thought that her mind was playing some sick trick on her, but her feet drag her to the door immediately. An army of people swarm in after she calls, and someone accidentally pushes her a little too harshly.

She almost falls but Taehyung, who just stepped inside, grabs her by the elbow.

After the doctor finished checking up on Hoseok, they all left the room and left Yoongi inside as he requested. The moment she steps outside, she feels something off in the atmosphere around her.

The doctor, Seonghwa, stops before the door, which makes everyone stop too. “It’s not gonna be a while till he wakes up now, hopefully.”

“You said he might have trouble with his memory,” Jina stepped in between Taehyung and Jeongguk. She’s trying to sound as casual and nonchalant as possible. “Are there any indicators that you can find now?”

“Not really, he’ll have to wake up for us to find that.” Seonghwa replies. He gives her a look. “In the meantime, you really should rest more than this. I told you no bed rest, but no excessive movement either.”

It’s a private hospital. From what Jina had grasped, Seonghwa owns it, and he works for Hoseok and Yoongi. That was why Jeongguk was so persistent in bringing Hoseok here and not just any other hospital. They can’t risk such exposure.

Seonghwa is also the one that’s keeping track of Jina’s physicalities for the mean time, and boy the look of disappointment on his face when he first saw her today was priceless.

“I’m trying my best,” Jina tells him. Her shoulders tense up. She doesn’t feel comfortable. “If anything feels too much I'll come back.”

He still looks disappointed when he nods with a sigh. “I’ll keep an eye on him.” He gestures to the closed door beside them, referring to Hoseok. “If anything comes up, i’ll be in contact.”

“Thank you, Seonghwa,” Taehyung tells him with a little smile, which he returns, then starts to walk away.

“Thank you too, Jina-ssi.” Jungkook blurts out with a sigh. His tired eyes meet hers with visible gratitude. “He wouldn’t have made it without you.”

Jina nods and tries to give him a smile, then she looks away.

It is uncomfortable. Jina feels uncomfortable. It isn’t Taehyung’s support since his touch is barely there, almost non-existent on her elbow. She looks around one more time, trying to see if something is out of the ordinary, if there is someone out of the ordinary, but she doesn’t spot anything.

It feels like someone has their eyes on her.

“Come on, I’ll take you home.” Taehyung tugs at her elbow a little. “Did you drive here?”

Jina looks behind her once more as she allows Taehyung to drag her forwards, before looking up at him. “No.”

“This was a trick question,” Jeongguk makes a finger gun at her. He walks backwards, facing the both of them. “Because you shouldn’t be driving. Taehyungie-hyung would’ve made sure you don’t leave the hospital.”

Jina gives him a look. “I would’ve loved to see him try.”

Jeongguk lips pull back in a playful smirk, and Taehyung rolls his eyes. The younger falls in step with them to walk on Jina’s other side. “I’ll walk you guys to the car.”

“I hope you’re not too pissed about Jeongsu’s work restrictions,” Taehyung tells her. He lets go of her elbow. “He was already objecting with you fully going back to work as you requested, but I threw a few words here and there as well.”

Jina sighs and puts a hand on her hurting rib. “I love how everyone just enjoys me being irritated.” 

“It’s for the best, Jina-ssi.” Jeongguk jumps into the conversation. “A fractured rib isn’t a small thing. If not properly taken care of, it could get way worse.”

They enter the elevator, and Jina throws sarcastically. “I noticed that, thank you very much.”

Jeongguk leans on the side of the elevator. He looks down at her whilst Taehyung stays by her side. “I know we’re supposed to be mortal enemies nd’ all, but I’m not gonna lie, you’re making it very hard for me to not like you.” 

“And why is that?”

“At first, it was because we realized you’re the one that got our Chungha back.” Jeongguk tilts his head one side and his eyes fall to the floor.“Then, you save Hobi-hyung. Twice.”

“Three times, actually,” Taehyung corrects. “If we’re gonna count saving his ass from being publicly exposed.”

“That he’s a fucking mafia boss, yes,” Jina grumbles out. Although a little pout throws itself on her lips, she can’t deny the increasing likability in the two men beside her. “Got my ass on the fucking line for it, as well.”

Smirking, Jeongguk starts moving to the door when it arrives at the destination “You know, for a 5’3 person, you have a lot of foul vocabulary.”

“I was taught martial arts as a child. I will not hesitate to use what I know on you.”

 

 

---

 

Since Hoseok’s sleep has been irregular for as long as he can remember, it was pleasant to fall into deep sleep so fast.

It was worrisome for Yoongi’s parents when Hoseok first lost his parents. They thought it was just a short period of nightmares since the incidents were still very fresh in his young brain, but it clearly  wasn’t just that. 

The period started to expand, and they spent more sleepless nights trying to comfort the little boy that wakes up screaming for his mother. It wasn’t much afterward when they decided to make him go see someone for his recurring issue.

Hoseok didn’t like that. He was too scared to talk about the things he saw.

So he started faking being okay. Just to escape the regular visits and tiering medications he had to consume at a very young age.

One day, Yoongi asked his parents to let him and Hoseok share a room because of how much he’s seen him red and breathless. From then and after, Yoongi was the only one knowledgeable of Hoseok’s hidden struggles as they grew. 

When they slept in the same room, Hoseok started feeling some sense of safety that he previously lacked. It didn’t take place right away, but it slowly filled him each time Yoongi would hold him in his arms, letting him cry himself back to sleep while hiding his own tears from Hoseok.

After the Mins moved to Italy, leaving their son to handle their business before Hoseok could fully join, each of them decided to get an apartment of their own. Yoongi protested at first, Seokjin supporting his argument, but Hoseok insisted on living alone from then on, telling them that he was better by then.

Even though he wasn’t, and everyone saw that as time went by.

At some point, Seokjin forced him to go see someone, telling him how he trusted her since she was an old friend and a descendant of a partner of his parents. 

Seokjin made sure to suggest someone in the business so Hoseok could come completely clean, without having to cover up things that need to be uncovered.

Hoseok took Seokjin’s word for it and started going. It was irregular, yes, but everyone was relieved that at least he was letting off some steam to someone, even if it wasn’t them.

 And to their horror, soon enough, he stopped going due to complications that arose between the families, and he had to fly to italy for months.

He never really went back to Jieun after that.

Sometimes he’d seem fine, like he is improving on his own, even. But other times he’d look like he’s been through hell and back. 

Hoseok usually starts avoiding whoever tries to tell him to go back to therapy or call him out for his very shitty coping mechanisms, then.

Occasionally, when reality hits him, Yoongi would find him at his doorstep at 4 in the morning, shaking violently while looking at him with the whole world’s desperation within bloodshot eyes. 

Whenever this happens, everyone else puts everything on hold. Yoongi would wake Jimin up frantically, telling him to call everyone over while he takes care of his hyperventilating best friend.

And he would feel pathetically guilty not so long after that. He’d feel grumpy and it’d make it all worse, so everyone learned to try not to give him any excess attention by continuing whatever their interrupted tasks were after going over. Whether it was sleeping, eating, or work.

As an alternative to getting actual treatment, Hoseok made sure to try every thing that could possibly take his mind off of things, even if it’s temporary. He has access to everything, given his status, so he stopped at nothing.

Hoseok used to depend on drugs religiously. For around a year and a half, he couldn’t last a day. His dependency soon started being revealed to those around him, and it got real messy until Seokin forced him into treatment when he first suggested Jieun.

He’s kept himself stuck to the ground for a considerable amount of time now, but it slips out of his grasp too often than he would like to admit. He’s still stubborn, still guilty for being the way he is, and it gets too much to handle on his own when he refuses to reach out.

He wishes he can reach out. He really does.

This precision too, occasionally slips out of his grasp. It is never direct, but it’s like his body is screaming at him to call for help, and his friends search for certain signs. Certain behaviors he exerts that make them more attentive to pull him out of the gutter he usually doesn’t realize he throws himself in.

 

Waking up again isn’t as hard as the first time, but it is equally exhausting. The smell of detergent and chlorine makes its way to his nose before he can open his eyes. It pulls him down to earth even more so. 

He can no longer hear the irritating beeping sound anymore, but the sound of a door opening and closing makes him more alert.

Someone walks over to him with heavy, tired footsteps, then throws themselves on some sort of seat beside where he lays with a loud huff.

Hoseok is still dazed. He doesn’t realize where he is just yet, but he knows it's bright. The person’s breathing is loud and it makes Hoseok more curious to find out who they are, but it is taking him longer than he expected to open his very, very, tired eyes.

It takes him a couple more minutes, but he finally manages to flatter them open, only to regret it right after. 

It’s too bright. Way too bright that it hurts his already hurting eyes, and it forces him into shutting them closed again. He frowns deeply and tries to move his head away from the light, but he lets out a groan when he realizes just how slow he is moving.

“Hobi?”

He manages to move his hand this time. He covers his hurting eyes. “Mm,” 

A sigh of relief echoes into his ears. 

“God, Jung Hoseok.” A hand takes his, and the rough voice speaks out shakily. “You almost fucking killed us all.”

Yoongi ?

“Hyung…” Hoseok’s gruffy voice still can’t go beyond a whisper. It seems to be like music to Yoongi’s ears, because another sigh escapes out of him. Hoseok removes his hand away from his face a little, and he opens the eye closer to Yoongi only half-way.

It takes him a few seconds to focus. It’s faster than the last time, he’s glad. Even though the sight awaiting him tugs at his chest.

Yoongi looks like shit.

He’s in a dark hoodie, hair covered by a dark baseball cap. Since he is sitting in the opposite direction of the sun, the light from the big windows illuminates his shadowed features, displaying the bloodshot, tired eyes with no filters.

“Fuck…” Hoseok closes his eye again and lets out a breath. “You’re crying.”

“No, I'm not.” Yoongi sounds weavery and wet. His voice is even huskier than usual.

It takes Hoseok a couple of seconds to slur out. “You have been, at least.”

As a reply, Yoongi only sniffles. He tightens his hold on his Hobi’s hand, afraid of letting go. They stay like this for a while, and Hoseok enjoys the afternoon sun’s warmth on his skin. 

A sense of comfort engulfs him as they silently agree that Yoongi isn’t going to let go of his hand any time soon.

Several minutes later, when Hoseok realizes that he’s starting to fall asleep again, he opens his eyes. He struggles to do so, but he thankfully faces away from the sun when he looks at Yoongi. 

“How long have i been out?”

“Six and a half days now.”

Hoseok frowns. He blinks slowly and averts his gaze away from Yoongi, who never looked up at him in the first place. His eyes are plastered to their touching skin.

He remembers everything so clearly. As if they just happened.

When he heard the gunshot he called Jungkook. He was waiting for him and Jina. Hoseok told him about the situation and he used the key Jina told him they kept in the little compartment above the voice box to open the gate.

Jina had a knife over her jaw. A man was squatting in front of her. He beat him, then Jina was having a hard time breathing. She looked smaller than she already was. He held her, he held her close, and she let him, but the intruder wasn’t giving up. 

He beat the fucker again, but the knife was close. He caught him off guard. Hoseok didn’t notice at first, and Jina was choking the guy. He turned red, and fell, and Jina wasn’t breathing well. She couldn’t manage her breathing yet. Hoseok tried to reach out to her, to hold her again, but it hurt.

It hurt. Everything hurt. He couldn’t breath, he was sweating, and Jina was panicking again. 

He didn’t want her to panic again. 

Her white hoodie turned red from his blood, he remembers. He remembers her hands on his, both of them bloody and messy. Jina kept putting pressure, but he couldn’t help it. He started losing his grasp. Jina held his other hand, she looked at him with fear.

Why? Why was Jina panicking? Why was Jina helping him?  

Jina. Jina. Jina .

“Where is Jina?”

Yoongi snaps his eyes to his. A look of pure confusion writes itself on his face, influenced by Hoseok’s sudden question after they stayed quiet for another minute as he recalled his near memory. 

His voice is a little breathless, eyes still droopy, still hurting, but alert.

Then, a look other than confusion crosses Yoongi’s features. Something more anxious.

Hoseok’s eyes open a bit more. His whole body tenses painfully, and Yoongi sure as hell looks like he doesn’t want to be here right now.

“Something happened.”

“She’s fine—“

“What happened?” It sounds more of an order than a question. “She was here. I heard her.”

“She was,” Yoongi assures. “She’s fine. Nothing’s wrong with her.”

“Then why are you looking like this?”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re hiding something.”

“I’m not—“

“Yoongi,” Hoseok sighs in exhaustion, relaxing his body when it becomes too painful. “I’m tired. Just spit—“

The drag door opens, and both their gazes follow the smooth sound.

“Jeez, you can’t even let yourself rest before getting all worked up.”

Seokjin’s strides are lazy and composed, and someone follows close behind him. A mop of dark hair appears, and something clicks in place.

The strange voice he couldn’t recognize, it was Seonghwa.

Looking at him all calm and pretty in his white coat, Hoseok would call him a fucking angel.

But he knows better.

“Welcome back, Boss.” Seonghwa smiles and lets the door close behind him. “We thought we lost you for a minute there.”

“A minute,” Yoongi scoffs and lets go of Hoseok’s hand. He leans back in his seat with another sniffle. “Right.”

Seokjin settles beside Yoongi with a sigh, and Seonghwa steps closer.“How do you feel?”

“Well,” Hoseok lets out tiredly. “Alive?”

“Are you in any kind of pain?” Seonghwa asks, and Hoseok tries not to fidget under Seokjin’s gaze. “Does your head hurt?”

“A bit.”

“What’s your full name?”

Hoseok frowns. He looks at Seonghwa like he grew a new head. “Huh?” 

“There’s a few questions you need to answer,” Seonghwa explains calmly. “In case you’re experiencing any memory loss.”

“Why would i experience—”

“Just answer the damn questions, Jung Hoseok,” Seokjin rumbles and closes his eyes for a few moments with his thumb and index finger on the bridge of his nose.  

Hoseok stays silent and watches his hyung for a couple of seconds, before he looks back to Seonghwa.

“Well, he just said my name.”

“When’s your birthday?”

“February 18th, 1994.”

“What’s his name?” Seonghwa gestures to Yoongi.

“Min Yoongi.”

“What year are we—”

“Seonghwa,” Hoseok raises his hands to his face. “I remember everything. Don’t worry.”

“No, we’ll worry.” Seokjin tries not to sound snappy and fails miserably. “We’ve been through hell, the past few days. We almost lost you three times. We’ll fucking worry.”

Hoseok stays quiet at that too. He drags his gaze down to Yoongi, then up to Seonghwa. 

Seonghwa sighs and purses his lips once he meets Hoseok’s gaze. He licks his lips, and starts talking calmly. “You lost a lot of blood, by the time you got here. Jeongguk-ssi and Taehyung-ssi got to you before the ambulance did, you couldn’t be helped right away. It took around thirteen minutes to get you here, so you spent a good twenty five minutes bleeding.” 

Damn. That was a close call.

Hoseok doesn't respond, and Seonghwa comes closer.  “Do you remember anything from that period?”

A frown makes its way to his face. “I don’t… i didn’t see Jeongguk and Taehyung.”

Seonghwa nods. “It’s fine. You woke up for a couple of minutes on the way here, they said you looked like you were in too much pain.” He goes on. “By the time you got here you were showing major signs of hypovolemic shock. It’s only logical because you lost so much blood. There was brain damage and signs of failure, since there wasn’t enough blood reaching it. Hence the questions i just asked you, and the fact that you’ve been out for so long.”

Hoseok’s progression speed is slow. He takes his time and makes sure that the information settles in his brain before he looks at Yoongi, who is looking down at his intertwined fingers.  Seokjin isn't looking at him either.

Why are they avoiding eye contact like that?

Wait.

“Is there…” Hoseok is a little breathless when he speaks. “Is there any long term damage?”

“No, thankfully.” Seonghwa lets out reassuringly. “The culprit missed the vital organs. Although, this would’ve been so much worse if the detective didn’t start taking care of you right away.”

Oh .

She did.

Seokjin must’ve spotted Hoseok’s puzzlement faster because he speaks instead of Seonghwa this time. “She helped stop the bleeding big time. She told us you tried to stand up, too, but she didn’t let you. When Jungkook and Taehyung found you she’d wrapped you up in a blanket and had a cleaner cloth on your wound. If they had to deal with hypothermia and infections on top of all of this, we would’ve definitely lost you.”

“You weren’t letting go of her hand when you got here,” Yoongi adds, and Hoseok freezes. Yoongi still doesn’t look up at him. “You weren’t responsive, but they literally had to pry her away because you didn’t want to budge.”

Well, this is embarrassing.

“Oh.” Hoseok tries to fidget, but sharp pain strikes up his body. His eyes widen, mouth falling open in shock whilst one of his hands hover over where it hurts most. He doesnt wanna touch it so he doesn’t hurt himself further, but fuck doesn’t it hurt like a bitch. 

A choked moan leaves his lips, and Seonghwa sighs simultaneously with Seokjin as they share a look.

“Things like that can happen. Your muscles must’ve locked up—”

The hand fisting the cover on top of him loosens slowly as the pain barely subsides. Hoseok speaks through gritted teeth. “Where is she?”

“She got discharged around four days ago,” Seonghwa informs, shaking his head. “She should’ve stayed longer, though. She has a fractured rib and some serious injuries.”

“Why did she leave, then?”

“To join the investigation,” Yoongi replies instead. “She wanted to interrogate the fucker herself.”

“He’s gonna be dead soon anyways.”

“No, Hoseok.” It looks like Seokjin is sighing a lot in this conversation. “The police are already involved. We’ve got the detective AND Jeongsu. If he dies now it’ll raise a lot of voices''

Hoseok is getting tired again. Sleepiness is pulling him back in, but there are too many things he wants to ask about.

“Kang Daeun,” Hoseok blinks slowly. He needs to stay up for just a little longer. “Jina’s mother.  Did something happen—“

Yoongi says “No, both of them are staying with one of the detective’s colleagues.”

Fuck. Not him.

“No,” Hoseok lets out, a firm expression on his tired face. “No, this isn’t safe enough.”

“We’re watching them 24/7. There’s no need to—“

“Her friend, Namjoon,” Hoseok cuts Seokjin off, gaining his attention. “He’s smart. He’ll catch on that they’re being watched. That is if he already hasn’t.”

“I told her to stay in one of our hotels, that way we could still keep an eye on them if anything happened, but she refused.” Yoongi tells him, leaning forwards again. “She said it’ll be easier if she stayed with her friend.”

“My Penthouse.” Fuck, his eyes are closing in their own. “It’s...it’s all empty. Make them...stay there.”

Yoongi and Seokjin share a look, before the younger one speaks. “That’s too close to you, don’t you think?”

“Exactly.” Hoseok mumbles out his reply, sleep successfully pulling him in. “That’s as safe as it can get.”

 

---

 

MYG: jina-ssi

MYG: hoseok woke up yesterday afternoon. Thought i’d let you know.

 

J:oh

J: thank you for informing me.

 

Y: np

Y: there is something we’d like to discuss with you

Y: do you have time today?

 

J: Is something wrong?

Y: no. don’t worry.

Y: i found you a good place for you and your mother to stay in

Y: staying with your colleague is unsafe

 

J: we talked about this before, Yoongi-ssi.

 

Y: [address]

Y: bring your mother. 2pm.

Y: text jeongguk when you arrive in front of the building. He will escort you.

She sounded too cold, hasn’t she? 

 

Jina’s stomach twists, yet her heavy shoulders feel a little lighter than they were before she read Yoongi’s texts. Even her body is as confused as her mind when it comes to figuring out how she should feel or react to the whole situation.

 

Thank god? Finally? It feels too weird to even think about. She almost settled for a ‘Good for him.’, but it felt a little too heartless for her liking.

 

A sigh of relief escapes her lips and runs a hand in her hair. She really wouldn’t have handled it well if he died.

 

She sits behind her desk. One leg bounces up and down lightly and she hates the way she feels the air buzz around her. 

 

Namjoon and Jongho are out doing god knows what while the other two remain around Jina to finish some paperwork they were falling behind on. They move around and conversate freely, abandoning her on her seat without a glance her way.

 

And it fills her to the brim with irritation.

 

Jina has so much she should be doing. So fucking much, but she stays right here while everyone moves around and do the shit she should be doing. Exactly what she didn’t want happening when she first insisted on going with Hoseok that night, and it started to feel like what had happened to him fell in vain.

 

She wants to at least see him. Wants to make sure he is up and running again for herself more now that Yoongi told her he woke up, but going to see him now would be too desperate. 

 

He could kick her out for being the reason behind all of this. Going now, looking as out of it as she looks, she can’t have her pride stepped on again. If she waits just a little longer, maybe it would annoy her less if he does kick her out.

 

Fuck… She really had a fucking mafia boss stabbed because of her.

 

“So,” Jina clears her throat. “Are you guys just gonna ignore my existence for long?” At that, the two tall men snap their heads towards where she’s sitting, looks of confusion stuck to their faces. “I seriously started thinking that you’re keeping me here to clear your conscience.” 

 

“We’re just doing paperwork,” Siwon replies, gesturing to the files in front of them. “If you wanna join, by all means…”

 

“Why aren’t we doing anything else about Changmin?”

 

“Because we currently don’t have anything to do.” Yunho raises the file in his hand briefly. “He’s not speaking, his phone was a burner and we didn’t find bullshit in his house.” He pauses for a couple of seconds, his lips pulling down in disgust. “If you call that a house.”

 

When they went to check out the place Changmin ‘lived in’, they only found a mattress in an empty ditched apartment, that, as Jongho’d said, “Smelled like death.”

 

Jina is convinced he has another place of residence. Someone like him wouldn’t live in a place like this.

 

“If he was working alone like he’d said,” Siwon says. “Then problem solved.”

 

“He isn’t, sunbae…” Jina groans and pinches the bridge of her nose.

 

“Tell you what,” Yunho suddenly jumped in,  holding his hands in front of him on his desk. “Why don’t you go find the dude you were looking for? The one that made the false report. You never picked that back up after what happened.”

 

Oh.

 

“That’s not important, Yunho—”

 

“It’s actually a pretty good idea,” Siwon interrupts. “You’ll keep yourself occupied till something pops up, and not leave cases piling up on you.”

 

“I genuinely don’t like you both.”

 

“Wait…” Yunho lets out, and slowly looks back to Jina. “The day of the incident… weren’t you going to find the man? You said you were going to let Jung Hoseok-ssi pass you by where he lived.”

 

Now, wait a minute.

 

Jina tilts her head to the side, eyebrows furrowing down. “What does that have to do with anything?”

 

“You think someone didn’t want her to go?” Siwon asks.

 

Jina’s furrowed eyebrows straighten in realization. “So they sent someone to take me out.”

 

“Who’d wanna do that, though?”

 

“Jung Hoseok.”

 

“Definitely not Jung Hoseok.” Yunho and Jina replied to Siwon’s question simultaneously, only to look at each other right afterward. Defensively, Jina goes on. “The man literally got stabbed for me. Why would it be him?”

 

Yunho shrugs. “Payback? Maybe he really is fishy?”

 

“Yunho…” Jina sighs. She closes her eyes for a couple of seconds. “It’s not him. I’m sure. If he had something to do he would’ve done it long ago.”

 

“Maybe it’s whoever wanted him to go down, then?” Yunho keeps guessing. He leans back in his seat.  “The person that made the false report.”

 

“I don’t think it’s him,” Jina shakes her head. “He’s just a jobless twat. What could he probably have against a CEO?” She tilts her head again, thinking. “But someone could have paid him, though. His place of residence doesn’t really sound humane to me. He could’ve been desperate and found easy cash. Just doing a phone call from a payphone isn’t the hardest thing in the world.”

 

“Alright, a new lead!” Yunho grins and claps once excitedly. He stands up. “I’ll go find him--”

 

“I’m coming with,” Jina, too, stands up, but it was too abrupt for her not to hurt herself. Her voice is a little choked when she speaks again. “Don’t even try to talk me out of it.”

Like she’d already guessed, where Baek Jonwoo lives proves just how much he could’ve needed the money that was possibly offered to him. It’s a skeptic neighborhood. The building looks like it was taken right out of a horror movie. He lives in a rented room that barely has enough space for a bed and a desk, the little window near the ceiling being the only source of oxygen other than the broken ac.

 

As the landlady led them to his room, she explained how he hasn’t shown up at all this past week, and that she was going to report him missing right before the detectives showed up. The man didn’t have any relatives, nor has she seen him with any friends during his six months stay in her building. She didn’t know who to call to ask about him, and he didn’t have a steady workplace that she could contact.

 

Jina and Yunho tried to look for anything in his belongings that could lead them to him, but all they found was dirty laundry and erotic magazines.

 

And just like that, they file a missing person report as well.

 

He has a car, the landlady was generous enough to have CCTV in front of her building that showed his plates. They take that end of the thread and decide to look for it for now, only hoping that it leads them to Jonwoo himself.

 

Even though Jina has this nasty feeling in her gut that they’ll find his decaying corpse instead.

 

They’ll be left with nothing again, then.

 

After they are done, Jina tells Yunho to drop her off at the address Yoongi sent her earlier that morning, fully aware that she is twenty minutes late, completely ignoring his request to bring her mother with her.

 

Yunho drives and she is glad the sun is there this afternoon. He is humming a melody of a song Jina finds familiar. It’s calming. Yunho is calming, she always thought of that, and it makes her relax in her seat beside him. 

 

The temperature in the car is just perfect. Along with the warming sun and Yunho’s hums, Jina finds her eyes closing and she rests her head against the headrest. Yunho pauses for a few seconds, and it feels too quiet that her brain starts to pull shit up again, then he resumes shortly.

 

But he wasn’t fast enough. Her brain managed to already pull a card up, and she opens her eyes again.

 

“Are you okay?” Yunho leans towards for a few seconds. “Should i take you home?”

 

“No,” Jina gives him a soft smile. “I’m fine. Thank you, Yunho.”

 

His cheeks raise up in a reassuring smile.

 

It would’ve been hard if Yunho worked for someone too.

 

Jina unlocks the phone that previously laid on her lap. She scrolls through her text messages. She wants to inform someone of the recent updates, preferably Taehyung like she has been for the past week, but she stops at a certain contact name.

 

Her finger hovers over Hoseok’s name. Is it good enough of an excuse to check up on him? With the newly found information, it seems like the culprit was targeting him from the start so they will have to question him soon enough. Considering that he just gained consciousness only yesterday, would it be  good timing to question him today?

 

That way if he does kick her out, she is still there on duty. That way maybe she wouldn’t have enough time to be hurt if he puts the blame on her like she does herself.

 

But she shouldn’t even be looking for excuses to go see him. He doesn’t mean that much to her, why is she making a big deal out of things?

 

What if he hates her after what happened? She hates him too. He always hated her. They’re a pain in each other’s asses. 

 

Jina scrolls away dismissively and opens up Taehyung’s chat instead, then her fingers drum on the keyboard.

J: taehyung

J: It’s jina

J: I think whoever wanted me dead is behind what happened with you guys

 

T: good morning to u too

 

J:that day we were going to meet baek jonwoo right?

The false caller

I think whoever did this didnt want me to find him.

 

T: go on

 

J: I was just at his place of residence 

his landlady told us she hasn’t seen him nor his car in the past week

Its been exactly a week since the incident

I think the same person that sent someone to kill me made him make that phone call

 

T: thank you, park jina-ssi

T: you’re helping out plenty

 

J: I just wanna find whoever’s tryna kill me

J: also

J: drop the honorifics. Just call me Jina. You’re older than me anyways.

 

T: alright jina

T: i’ll make sure to contact you if anything comes up

T: thank you again

“Oooh, Sunbae,” Yunho teases. The navigation voice announces that they arrived at their destination. “I can’t believe you’re moving to Gangnam.”

 

“I’m not,” Jina looked up at the building, carefully unbuckling her seatbelt. “I’m just meeting the landlord here, I guess. I don’t think i’ll be moving anyways.”

 

“Do you want me to stay with you?”

 

“No, it’s fine. I’ll manage,” Jina says. She opens her door with one last glance at Yunho. “Thank you, though.”

 

“Alright, see you later!” He calls after her as she pushes the door closed, then he takes off smoothly.

 

Once she makes sure Yunho is out of sight, she unlocks her phone again to do as instructed. 

 

J: I’m here

JK: omw!

 

Now that she is on her feet, she’s in pain again. It’s been hurting her since she woke up, but it starts to be difficult to breath as the minutes go by. She knows she’s going to need to rest for a while, but she still has way too much to do today before she can go to the comfort of a mattress.

 

Jina tries to walk around a bit, tries to breath deep and slow like Seonghwa instructed. She doesn’t know if Jeongguk is late or time is playing some sick trick on her, but she grows more exhausted by the second.

 

She’s draining herself. She knows that.

 

But she doesn’t know what else to do.

 

Jeongguk finally pulls up in front of her in a dark car after god knows how many minutes. Jina has a hand on where it hurts the most and she limps forwards, watching Jeongguk’s neutral expression sink in a different one that leans more towards a frown. She opens the passenger door and sits with a weary sigh, and Jeongguk still doesn’t take his eyes off of her.

 

He finally voices out his thoughts when she closes the door. “You okay?”

 

“Mmh,” Jina lets out, too breathless to form an actual sound.

 

Jeongguk keeps staring at her for a few more seconds before he takes off slowly. Jina rests her back and tries to breathe through her nose, and she lets her eyes fall closed. 

 

“Are you sure, though?” Jeongguk speaks quietly. Jina  opens her eyes and meets him briefly, and she thinks he looked worried for a second there. It’s funny, really. “Do you want me to take you to the hospital?”

 

No. It’s not funny. If she looks as bad as she feels to the point that a mafia member looks worried, that’s not funny at all.

 

That’s fucking worrying. She shouldn’t have pushed herself that far.

 

“I’m fine,” Jina tells him. They must’ve gone  around the building because Jeongguk drives them down to a garage in the back. “Let’s just get this over with, hmm? I still have a lot to do today.”

 

He leans out of his window, stretching a hand out to some sort of machine. It’s lit in a wary red color and he puts his hand on it, then it turns blue with a buzz and the door in front of them starts to rise up.

 

“No,” Jeongguk lets out a humorless chuckle, briefly glancing at her as he settles back in his seat. “Looking like that, no you don’t.”

 

Jina waves her hand at him dismissively as he smoothly flows into an open parking spot. He turns off the car when he’s settled and wastes no time into getting out of it. Jina takes her fair time and looks around as she does so, and it is safe to say that she can quit her job and flee the country if she sold one car from the lot around her.

 

“Yall rich people are insane,” Jina mumbles and pushes Jeongguk’s car door closed, eyebrows at her hairline as she peeps around. “How many people am i meeting today, exactly?”

 

“Just me and Jin-hyung,” Jeongguk shrugs. He locks his car and starts walking to the elevator to the left. As he marches, he throws a smirk back to Jina, who is slowly trailing behind him as she stares around in amazement. “This is Hoseok-hyung’s garage.”

 

Jina stops walking and tilts her head to the side. “This is what, now?”

 

No, because she’s never seen so many expensive cars in one place like this. Yellows, Reds, Lambos and Porschs, how much money does those fuckers do?

 

Jeongguk chuckles. There’s a keypad beside the elevator that also turns from red to blue under Jeongguk’s touch before he punches in a password. “Don’t you wanna get this over with?”

Jina doesn’t know if the elevator ride really is long or time is fucking up her brain again, but she thinks that maybe it’s a mix of both because it just keeps going up. She leans back against the wall of the champagne colored elevator and watches the back of Jeongguk’s head as he swings from side to side on his feet.

 

“I’m just gonna warn you, but…” When the elevator beeps to announce their arrival, Jeongguk says. “Seokjin-hyung isn’t the friendliest. It can be a little tough to get on his good side.”

 

“Who the fuck said i wanna get on his good side?” Jina follows behind, scoffing with a humorless smirk. “I don’t know if you got the memo yet, but a bunch of men with guns don’t really scare me.”

 

Jeongguk chuckles again and they step into what seems to be a penthouse. Jina has to slow down once more and fully process where they are.

 

Wait. Wait.

 

Is this Hoseok’s penthouse?

 

Fuck, is he here?

 

He shouldn’t be, right? He only woke up a day before. He should stay in the hospital for at least one more day. He can’t be here. He can’t. He fucking can’t.

 

Jina’s not prepared. She can’t see him now.

 

Jina stops walking. “Is Hoseok here?”

 

“No,” Jeongguk looks back at her. He frowns, turning his body fully towards her. “He’s still in the hospital. Are you okay? You look a little pale.”

 

This is fucking humilating.

 

“I’m fine,” Jina shakes her head and waves a  hand dismissively. She starts walking again to catch up with him, and he’s still looking at her with furrowed eyebrows as they walk side by side. “I just need to rest. The faster this is over the better.”

 

“Don’t worry,” Jeongguk rounds a corner and she follows, but her movements slowly come to a halt again. “You’ll rest as soon as we’re done.”

 

Could it be a mere coincidence that Hoseok owns the exact same suitcases her and her mom have?

 

“We can’t thank you enough, Kim Seokjin-ssi.”

 

This time, Jeongguk keeps walking.

 

“Please, I did nothing. As long as you two are safe.”

 

“What the fuck?”

 

Jina just stands there, arms by her sides, and she looks back and forth between the two people standing in distance. She looks down at the suitcases nearby again, then looks back up to them, and she has one thing on her mind.

 

“No...What the f--”

 

“What took you so long!” Daeun scolds, turning towards her. “Weren’t we supposed to meet at 2?”

 

“What--” Jina cuts herself off and takes a small step forward. She shifts her gaze to Seokjin, who looks at her with a raised eyebrow. “What is she doing here?”

 

“I think Yoongi-hyung knew you weren’t going to bring her,” Jeongguk has a water bottle when he reappears in her vision. He hands it to her with a smile. “So he told her himself.”

 

“No, no--”

 

“Park Jina-ssi,” Seokjin calls. He gestures with his head to his right. “Would you mind a minute?”

 

Jina keeps staring at his back as he moves in the direction he mentioned, until he disappears within the walls of a hallway across what seems to be a living room. 

 

Jina’s gaze falls back to her mother who looks back at her with a deadpan. She sharply gestures with her head too and they just keep staring daggers at each other before she is physically pushed forwards by Jeongguk who lets out a long sigh.

 

“Come on, the sooner the better, eh?”

 

“You, shut up,” Jina points her index finger back at him. She looks back at her mom and aggressively unscrews the cap of the bottle in her hands. “I can’t believe you.”

 

“No, i can’t believe you-- ”

 

“Park Jina-ssi.” Seokjin’s voice echos.

 

“I don’t know why I even bother at this point.” Jina mumbles and limps across to the hallway. The door at the end is left ajar and she can see Seokjin’s shadow moving inside.

 

This is fucking stupid.

 

“I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but i'm not having it.”

 

Seokjin doesn’t look up at her from his seat in one of the chairs in front of the large desk in front of her. He stares forwards, tipping the glass in his hand to his lips. 

 

“I think you should sit down, detective.” Seokjin says. Calm. Steady. It makes Jina’s blood boil for some reason.

 

She keeps looking at him for a few more seconds before she moves to the seat in front of him and carefully lowers herself into the seat. 

 

Her discontent is clear in her eyes. “I—“

 

“You’ll be staying here from now on,” Seokjin tangles his fingers together on his lap, knees crossed. He makes a gesture with his hand. “Until further notice, at least. We can’t have you staying somewhere that’s easily accessible.”

 

“Who are you to order me around?”

 

“Trust me, if it were for me, i would've left you for dead that day.” Seokjin tells her. Still calm, still steady, and it's disturbing. “But this isn’t how we do things. Our job has this policy where we can’t involve innocents in our business. Since you’re in danger because of a family matter, it is a responsibility to keep you safe and protected no matter what.”

 

Jina stays quiet for some time. Seokjin’s gaze on her feels like fire. “I don’t need your protection. We are managing just fine.”

 

“Have you looked at yourself in the mirror lately?” Seokjin tilts his head to the side a little. He looks her up and down, and Jina looks away. “Because to me, it looks like you’d fall if I blew in your face.”

 

Jina hates this. She hates everything about this conversation.

 

“You’re an admirable woman, Park Jina-ssi, I will not deny that.” Seokjin takes a deep breath, raising an eyebrow. “But this is my exact reason to keep you on a tight leech. As much as we can’t afford innocent blood on our hands, we can’t afford someone as smart and tactical as you are to fuck us over. Which renders whatever you have to say useless because this decision is not up for debate.”

 

“Tight leech,” Jina chuckles humorlessly. 

 

Yeah, Jeongguk wasn’t kidding.

 

“We would’ve had you stay somewhere else, but Hoseok specifically ordered to let you stay here.” Seokjin nods, not giving her a chance to talk. “This penthouse is all secured like a damn safe. It’d be near impossible for someone to reach you here.”

 

“Why...Why would Hoseok—”

 

“Like i said, we don’t interfere with innocent lives. We need to keep safe, and this penthouse is as safe as it can get.” Seokjin says, and Jina’s breath hitches. “He doesn’t stay here, as you know. And this place is pretty luxurious. Take it as us showing our gratitude for helping Hoseok that day until everything can go back to normal.”

 

She shouldn’t have brought her hopes up. 

 

Why would she, huh? She shouldn’t have let her emotions get a hold of her in the first place. She shouldn’t have let herself feel bad, look where that got her now. Stooped on, put on a leech like a rabid dog.

 

“And we are thankful, detective,” Seokjin continues, and his tone isn’t as soulless as before. “Hoseok wouldn’t have made it without your help. He knows that much, and he will definitely not take no as an answer to his order.”

 

Jina tries to take in a deep breath. It hurts and she grits her teeth in discomfort. The fact that she hasn;t been able to reply for so long makes her feel vulnerable and inferior, but has got nothing to say.

 

“I already spoke with your mother, so has Yoongi. She agreed that this is the best possible option. We haven’t let her in on any confidential information, of course, but we also agreed that if something goes south again, she will be sent away somewhere as secure as here for her safety and your concentration. As fast as this is over with, both our lives go back to normal like nothing happened.”

 

“How am i supposed to trust you to keep her safe?”

 

“We owe you a favor, Detective.” Seokjin says. He raises his chin up pridefully. “Multiple ones, actually. Considering what you have done with Chungha back then. I’m sure you know that these matters are of no joke to us. From now until this is over, your mother and your safety is a priority.” He leans forwards, the corner of his lips pulling back ever so slightly. “Wouldn’t it be nice to finally feel safe, Park Jina-ssi?”

 

Jina is rendered speechless. This feels weirdly personal, and Jina hates everything about it.

 

But it would. It would feel nice.

Notes:

It would, wouldn't it?
my poor babies:( so confused:(
next chapter is a huge one in terms of a lot of aspects so!! i hope you're excited haha!
thank you so much for waiting and reading:( your support means the world to me<3
Kudos and comments are always appreciated! they're the only things keeping me going<3
see you next time!

Chapter 9: nove

Summary:

“Hoseok,” Jina blinks and takes another step back. “Why are you here?”

He stares at her, trying not to show his building nervousness.

“Oh god,” Despair is clear in Jina’s eyes. “Please tell me I didn’t drunk call you and made a fool out of myself.”

Notes:

HENLOO

i think im a little early this time finally lol
MANE IM SO FUCKING EXCITED FOR WHATS TO COME
this chapter is nice it gave me feels when i was rereading it so •^•
DID YOU GUYS LIFE FILM OUT?? IT WAS SO BEAUTIFUL I GENUINELY GOT WAY TOO ATTACHED TO IT ALREADY!!
dont listen to it while reading something angsty i beg you it fucking /hurts/.
for those of you who continue to comment and leave kudos... i fucking love you!! you’re the reason im still continuing with this story after sooo many doubts.
hopefully next chapter wont be so late!! i’ll try my best ^~^
don’t forget to check out my twt @EB0YSOPE for updates!!
now les get it🥳

It’s raining outside. 

 

Jimin’s glad it's raining. It makes him feel less alone as he lets his own waterfalls go.

 

He sits with his back to the glass window, feeling the harsh droplets fall against it. With every lightning strike, he watches the dark room lighten up and he sees the pictures laying all around him again.

 

It’s all too much. Too cruel. Fate is a cruel, cruel thing. 

 

One of his hands is in his hair whilst he balances his elbow on a raised knee, one up to his chest. The other hand is holding one of the pictures, and it keeps tightening. The material wrinkles in his hand and it hurts.

 

He’s afraid it’d disappear if he lets go of it too. 

 

Jimin lost track of time long before nightfall. Recalling old memories, crying upon what he knows won’t return, then recalling some more, it’s all taking a toll on his starving body. He doesn’t know why isn’t he running out of tears whilst his battery of energy runs so low, and fuck his eyes hurt.

 

It all hurts. Eyes, chest, heart, head, but he still couldn’t fall asleep.

 

Because every time he closes his eyes, they’re still there. The pictures and the memories behind them. It’s all fucking there, yet he can’t see them when he opens his eyes back up. And it hurts.

 

He wants to touch them, to reach out and feel them on his hands. To exist in those moments, happy smiles and wholesome eyes.

 

Flour everywhere and giggles fill his ears. A pat on his cheek and a small hand around his fingers, unable to grasp his whole hand. He wants to relive it. 

 

It’s fucking haunting.

 

The storm swarming in Seoul matches the one in Jimin’s head. He can’t stop the silent tears, nor does he try, but it keeps him awake. Like some sick torture method that he bestows upon himself absentmindedly, and he remains frozen to accept it all.

 

Jimin lets his head fall back against the window and he closes his eyes once more. He sees smiles and blood and gunpowder and it all mixed up so mischievously, but he’s tired. His eyes hurt too much when he tries to open them back up after he sees a certain twisted flash that makes his shoulders raise to his ears and his face turns sour again.

 

Regret befriended him again a few days ago. He thought he buried it deep long ago, but oh how twisted fate is to dig it right up.

 

Jimin would wake up from too many hours of sleep and stay in bed. He watches the sky as it darkens, and it starts to pour again. The pictures are always untouched on the bed.

 

But Yoongi would come home, gather it all and put it on the bedside table, and resume his task of trying to convince Jimin not to stay alone since he didn’t want to leave Hoseok’s side. The younger wouldn’t budge, and Yoongi would end up staying the night with him instead.

 

The one time he broke the cycle and went to see Hoseok in the hospital, it made things so much worse.

When Jimin opens his eyes again, it’s sunny and it stings. He moans out and pulls up the cover to his eyes, then he stirs in alarm.

 

He’s sleeping properly in the bed.

 

 Yoongi’s home.

 

Jimin’s swollen eyes trail to the bedside, and the pictures are there. Stacked neatly with an ashtray on top of it to weigh it down.

 

“Oh, you’re up.” Jimin blinks up to the now open door. Yoongi is passing through with a mug in each hand. He’s moving carefully so he wouldn’t spill them all over.  “About time.”

 

Jimin sits up with yet another moan. He turns to Yoongi, and his eyebrows furrow slightly. “What are you doing here?” 

 

Yoongi gives him a weird look, stretching a hand out to give him his mug. “The fuck do you mean? This is my house.”

 

“When did you come home?” Jimin grabs his mug. He holds it close and lets it warm up his stiff hands. “Aren’t you supposed to be with Hobi-Hyung?”

 

“He woke up yesterday afternoon,” Yoongi sits on their shared bed and it dips in his direction. He balances his mug on the knee he has on the bed and the other dangles down in the air. Jimin lets out a sigh of relief. “Scolded me for looking tired while he was fucking high on pain killers, the bastard.”

 

“Ah,” Jimin lets out a little chuckle and crosses his legs under the comforter. He raises his drink to his lips. “Good to have him back.”

 

Yoongi lets out a breathy chuckle too and looks out of the window. He gulps down his coffee and Jimin keeps his eyes on him, holding onto the urge to pull him back to bed and sleep again.

 

He doesn’t wanna face reality today. He just wants this. The pair of them between four walls, sipping on hot, sour coffee as everything falls quiet except for their heartbeats.

 

But he can’t even have that.

 

“Hoseok knows I’m hiding something,” Yoongi looks back at Jimin.

 

Jimin’s shoulder tense. He blinks away from Yoongi and keeps his gaze on the ground, and his head starts to hurt again. 

 

“I don’t think we’re supposed to keep this from him for long.”

 

“I’m not ready to face all of this yet, Yoongi.”

 

“He’s gonna figure it out on his own,” Yoongi states. “And when he finds out that we all know, he’s gonna be really fucking pissed.”

 

Jimin looks down at his coffee, settling the mug between his thighs. He doesn’t wanna look up at Yoongi. He knows the look he’s giving him all too well.

 

“Jimin,” Yoongi starts again with a sigh. He runs a hand down his face. “She’s not going anywhere anytime soon. We’ll have to keep interacting with her one way or another. You can’t just spend the rest of your life locked up in here.”

 

“Fucking watch me, then.”

 

“What are you being so difficult for?” The older’s voice rises in frustration. “I won’t watch—”

 

“I’m ashamed of myself!” Something snaps in Jimin. His eyes widen expressively. “Can’t you see how the pair of us turned out? How the fuck am I supposed to look her in the eye after all of this? Huh?” He pauses for a couple of seconds, holding the older’s gaze unwaveringly. “Call me a coward, call me whatever the fuck you want, but I’m not ready to see the look in her eyes when she sees me again. I’m just fucking not, Yoongi.”

 

The room falls silent again, just like Jimin wanted, but it’s already ruined.

 

Yoongi keeps his eyes on Jimin. His eyes are red at the rims and so fucking swollen that it hurts to watch them start to well up with tears all over again.

 

Yoongi never wished to get used to this scene, but he already has, long, long ago.

 

Jimin runs a hand in his hair and he looks away, sniffling. He stares out of the window and Yoongi sees as he swallows hard, and he tries not to let his tears go again. He blinks and sniffles once more, his eyes falling closed with a pained expression taking over his flushed face.

 

“It took me so long,” Jimin starts again, his voice cracking. He looks back at Yoongi. “Remember? How much did it take me to be at peace with all of this?” Yoongi’s eyes soften. He holds the younger’s gaze attentively as he listens. “Do you remember how guilty I kept feeling?”

 

“I do.”

 

“I never thought I’d get to see her again, hyung.” Jimin’s first tear finally escapes, and that was Yoongi’s cue to start moving. “I never thought I’d get to see them again.”

 

Yoongi gets up and puts away their mugs. A sob rocks Jimin’s body and the older grabs him, sits down with his back against the headboard, then pulls Jimin on top of him.

 

Yoongi doesn’t leave a hair of space between them. He wraps his arms around him tight and Jimin’s snake around his neck just as tightly, and Jimin lets go of his weak hold on his emotions. Tears slip past his squeezed eyes with obvious agony, and Yoongi feels a hand fisting his hoodie at the shoulder.

 

And he has nothing to do but to hold him like this. Even if it pains him to hear all the broken sounds leaving him, Jimin holds all the answers to his own unspoken questions in his hands.

 

So Yoongi slips a gentle hand in his hair when Jimin buries his face in his neck, and he brushes through it as softly as he possibly can. 

 

Jimin’s voice became so fucking hoarse. 

 

“Shhh,” Yoongi lets out. “Everything will turn out okay.”

 

Yoongi feels Jimin’s head shake no.“Nuh-No i-it won’t…”  

 

“It will.”

 

“They wo-won’t wan-na see m-me again, Yuh-Yoongi--”

 

“You don’t know that, do you?” Yoongi tries to look down at him. “It’s not your fault, Jimin. It never was.”

 

“No,” Jimin groans. “It-It’s mi-mine. I was the o-one th-that never went b—”

 

Yoongi pulls back to look at his face, even though Jimin’s fists never let go. “We are not going to go through all of this again,” He frowns, watching the younger lower his face, his eyes squeezed shut. “It wasn’t your fault. Neither theirs. We both know whose fault all of this is.”

 

“I’m just like him.”

 

“Jesus fucking christ, Jimin, No!”

 

“I am. I am. They’ll be fucking disgusted--”

 

“Listen,” Yoongi snaps, cutting him off.  Jimin still has his face hidden away. The older gets a hold of his chin, directing his face upwards. “Look at me.”

 

His cheeks squeezed by Yoongi’s hand, Jimin’s swollen, bloodshot eyes open slowly. His body rocks with a hiccup, and the older’s heart flutters at the look in his eyes.

 

“It wasn’t your fault, Jimin,” Yoongi states gently. His eyes chase after Jimin’s when he tries to look away. “You’re not him . You never were, and never will be. There’s that.”

 

Jimin stays quiet at that.

 

“I’m pretty sure they both know that, too.”

 

“Thwey dwon’t.” Jimin tries to say. 

 

One of his hands let go of Yoongi’s hoodie to settle on his forearm. 

 

“They should,” Yoongi assures him, letting out a deep breath. “He’s gone. For good. And about her, she’s just as involved as you were back then. If you try to explain, I’m pretty sure she’ll understand.”

 

Jimin’s quiet again.

 

“Jimin, with what you told me about her,” Yoongi lets go of the younger’s face, and his hands trail softly down to his neck. “About both of them, and with what I’ve seen, I honestly don’t think they will be as harsh as you think they will be. If you explain everything—”

 

“I—”

 

“You’ll have to,” Yoongi closes his eyes for a couple of moments, cutting him off softly. “Maybe not now, but you will. You won’t let them slip away again.”

 

Jimin knows Yoongi is right. 

 

That’s what’s scaring him, the confrontation.

 

The eyes staring back at Yoongi look just as sad, but at least it starts clearing of tears. They keep looking at each other for a few seconds. Jimin’s breathing slowly goes back to normal. He silently tries to match it with Yoongi’s, except for the hiccup that makes him jump every ten seconds. 

 

One hiccup after the other, the corners of Yoongi’s lips pull up gradually, until he starts to chuckle at the younger who jokingly hits him on the chest. He looks away but Yoongi still catches the ghost of a smile that now exists, and it makes Yoongi’s already heavy chest ease a little.

 

Then, Jimin falls back in this previous position. He wraps his arms around Yoongi’s broad shoulders and buries his face in his neck, letting out a quiet hum at the comfort he’s always found in the older’s arms.

 

A comfortable silence falls upon the room soon enough. Yoongi leans his head back against the headboard and his hand returns to gently comb through Jimin’s hair, and the younger’s hiccups finally disappear.

 

A lingering thought starts to resurface in Yoongi’s head, and he finds himself spelling it aloud.

 

“I think Hoseok’s getting attached to the detective.”

 

He can feel Jimin’s body tensing against him. “What?”

 

“He’s been acting… weird towards her.” Yoongi goes on, staring out of the window. “He kept asking about her when he woke up. Looked all worried when he thought something’s happened to her while he was out.”

 

“Maybe it’s just the shock of the incident?”

 

“No…” Yoongi frowns a little. “Even before all of this.” He pauses again, his mind slowly putting thoughts together. “The way he treats her is just… he’d bad mouth her and talk about how the pain of an ass she is, but the last few times he saw her his eyes would go all soft. I don’t even think he notices it.”

 

“Do you think…” Jimin pulls back. “It’s because she helped him out that day? He started feeling bad?”

 

“I think he’s always felt bad,” Yoongi tells him, sighing. “Since all he had on her was her… mother’s safety.” Yoongi blinks a couple of times, looking up to see Jimin’s face losing all emotion. “I don’t think he ever actually thought about hurting Kang Daeun. Because… you know…”

 

Jimin nods, breathing in deeply.

 

“I don’t know,” Yoongi waves a hand dismissively. “It doesn’t sit right with me anyways.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“I don’t trust her enough with my brother.”

---

 

 

 

No.

 

This can’t be happening. 

 

Jina looks like a deer stuck between headlights.

 

Her chest feels hollow, hyper aware of the harsh heartbeats against her hurting rib cage. Her breath is caught up in her throat and her gaze is frozen on the pictures laying on the coffee table before her.

 

Jina’s coat is suddenly too heavy on her frame, weighing her down. Her shoulders slump and she can’t breathe, and it feels colder.  Like a bucket of ice-cold water is thrown over her head.

 

She’s had enough nightmares about this. Overthought it way too much, that she already knows what’s about to happen.

 

Namjoon is sitting on the sofa in his apartment, his elbows resting on his knees with his hands clasped in front of him. His gaze was on her since she took her very first step inside his apartment. He must’ve noticed the gradual loss of color in her already unusually pale face.  

 

He was scared of that reaction. He wishes Jina just played it cool.

 

But Jina loses track of just how much time has she stood there. Her eyes repeatedly go over the three printed pictures scattered messily on the coffee table in front of her best friend. Looking up at Namjoon, her gaze is completely blank.

 

Jina inhales calmly. “What is this?”

 

“What do you think?”

 

“Pictures?”

 

“Jina…” Namjoon sighs, leaning back. “Sit down. We need to talk.”

 

“You hired someone to follow me, Namjoon?”

 

“Jina,” He snaps, gaze piercing. He nods to the other sofa in front of him. “Sit down.”

 

Fuck. She needs to think of something. Quick.

 

She swallows and she looks down at the sofa, then back to Namjoon, who doesn’t meet her eyes. He keeps staring at where he told her to sit, and Jina can’t make herself move. 

 

It’s fine. It’s okay. He’s her best friend, right? If Jina explains everything, he’ll understand.

 

But what if he doesn’t? What if he acts the way she thinks he’ll act? Fuck… What if he—

 

She shouldn’t jump to conclusions. She needs to stay calm.

 

So, she moves the sofa and sits down with a breath, ignoring the slight pain striking up her side.

 

“Who are those people?”

 

Jina’s chest tightens and she swallows. She looks down at the pictures.

 

“What? Am i not allowed to know people outside of work?”

 

“How do you know Kim Taehyung and Jeon Jeongguk, Jina?”

 

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

 

Jina wants to scream. Wants to go on her knees and beg him to forgive her.

 

Jina’s chest keeps getting tighter, tighter, tighter, and she can’t breath well. The voice in her head gets louder and it screams the nastiest of insults at herself.

 

It’s already cold, but it keeps getting colder. She hopes Namjoon doesn't notice as she turns her hands into fists on her lap, but she doesn’t want to look away.

 

Looking away would mean defeat. She can’t give up so easily. She can’t lose him like this.

 

But Namjoon was the first one to look away, and Jina doesn't like the look on his face when he does. His gaze lowers to the pictures and he puts a hand to the lower side of his face.

 

It’s cold. Why is it so cold?

 

“I knew something was off. I knew it.” Namjoon says  quietly. “But i didn’t know it was this bad.”

 

Jina’s tone is sharp. Defensive. “What is?” 

 

“Don’t act dumb with me,” Namjoon lets out through gritted teeth, pointing an accusing finger at her. “Answer my fucking question. How do you know Kim Taehyung and Jeon Jeongguk?”

 

“How do you know them?”

 

Namjoon slams a hand down the coffee table. Jina flinches back. “I said don’t fucking play dumb with me, Park Jina!”

 

Jina stares at him, and there is a sharp edge to the look in her tired eyes. She’s still holding her ground, still refusing to accept defeat, then something nasty silently reminds her that her stubbornness only makes things worse.

 

Hoseok is a fresh example  of that. She should just come clean. Who knows what could happen?

 

But she can’t. She can’t. Namjoon looks so angry. He looks so disappointed, and she can’t have him too looking at her like that .

 

Jina lowers her gaze to the pictures too.

 

They were taken the day at the hospital, the day Taehyung drove her home.

 

Fuck, she knew something was wrong. She felt it. She felt someone watching her.

 

The pictures are crystal clear, and she’s right there. Standing between Taehyung and Jeongguk, smiling in one of the pictures at something Jeongguk must’ve said.

 

How could she smile so shamelessly? 

 

Please don’t do this. I have no other choice.

 

Namjoon’s cold tone snaps her out of her trance. “How far in are you?”

 

“Huh?” Jina frowns.

 

He closes his eyes and tilts his head as he lets out a breath. “Jina…”

 

“What the fuck do you think i am?!”

 

“I have seen my fair share of corrupt cops since I started this shitty line of work. I know one when i see one.”

 

No, no, no please. Don’t say it like that.

 

Something snaps in her, and she lets out a small noise. “I-I’m not, Namjoon.”

 

“Just tell me. How far in are you?”

 

“I didn't do anything,” Jina pushes herself forwards in her seat. Her heartbeat rams against her chest and she can’t breath, but Namjoon looks so disappointed. He looks so mad. She has to stop this.“I’m just doing my job, Namjoon. I swear. I promise. You have to—”

 

“It’s Jung Hoseok, isn’t it?” Namjoon asks, voice sharp. “What did he promise you? Money? Position?”

 

“I didn’t do anything!” Jina gestures with her hands frantically, and she wants to reach out to him. Her eyes are wide. “He just-- My mom. He knew she was my… My weak point. I swear i didn’t have a choice, Namjoon. You have to believe me. You have to.”

 

“What did he make you do?” 

 

“He just wanted the info of the guy that made the call.” He’ll forgive her, right? She’s telling him the truth. He has to. “I just went to find him and gave him his name and that’s it. I swear.”

 

“Kim and Jeon?”

 

“They work with him.” Jina tells him, nodding hurriedly.

 

“Of course they do.” Namjoon looks away. He leans back, hands turning into tight fists. “Of course they fucking do.”

 

“I didn’t do anything, Joon. I swear to god. I was pressured into all of this. I could’ve never—”

 

Namjoon snaps up from his seat.“I’m gonna skin Jung Hoseok alive—”

 

“No— Ah!” Jina also stands up way too quickly, and a hand snaps to where it hurts most. “No, he’s just—”

 

“Are you defending him, right now?”

 

Jina’s mouth is open, but nothing is coming out. She lets out a little pant and something forms in her throat. She can’t fucking speak.

 

Is she defending him?

 

“He saved my life, Namjoon,” Jina takes a step past the table. Desperate eyes and a wavering voice. She’s about to lose it. “Just--Just let me handle this, okay?. Let…Let me get it over with. Please—“

 

“He’s a fucking druglord!” Fury dances in his eyes. “A mafia! We’re talking about a mafia! Can you hear yourself?! Have you really gone nuts?!”

 

“You’re not a fucking saint either!”

 

The living room falls quiet after Jina’s outburst, and both of them just stare at each other.

 

“How do you know Jeongguk and Taehyung?” Jina’s eyes narrow and she pants. Her brain puts two and two as she keeps on going. “That’s why you looked weird when they were at the cafe, isn’t it?”

 

She’s met with silence. And her heart seems to sink further at that.

 

Jina steps closer. “How do you know all of this? How do you know it's a mafia?”

 

“What the fuck are you on about?”

 

“I’m saying you’re hiding something from me too, Namjoon.” Jina shoots back. “You’re not so slick either.”

 

Namjoon nods slowly, turning his head to the side for a few seconds. “You need to leave.”

 

“I’m doing my fucking best to stay in one piece,” Jina’s voice wavers again. “It’s all too fucking heavy and i can’t handle this too. Hoseok almost died for me and I can't help but feel in debt. Let me finish this.”

 

Faced with silence, again.

 

It just allows the emotions she feels to double in size.

 

“I wanted to tell you,” Her eyes begin to brim with tears. She steps closer to him. “I can’t even sleep well at night. It’s too fucking burdening and i was so scared of telling you because i didn’t want you involved.” She grabs the front of his sweatshirt in small, shaking fists. “I was so scared they’d do something to you or mom, Namjoon. I still fucking am and i won’t handle the burden of losing either of you.”

 

“You still should’ve told me.”

 

His tone is cold. It is so cold. As cold as she feels, and it hurts.

 

“I’m so sorry,” Jina keeps her eyes on him, even when he looks away. A tear manages to accidentally slip past, and it trails down slowly from the corner of her eye.  “I didn’t mean to disappoint you. I had to do it or else… I just... I can’t. Not after all of this.”

 

“You need to leave, Jina,” Namjoon repeats breathily. He steps backwards, and Jina’s hands fall to her sides. “I don’t think I can deal with you right now.”

 

Jina can’t find it in her to ask for forgiveness anymore.

 

She blinks away and more tears silently escape, and she looks down. 

 

Defeated.

 

“I’ll go,” Jina tries not to sound as bad as she feels. She looks up at him one last time, but he still refuses to meet her gaze. “Thank you for letting us stay with you.” She swallows and steps back, but the lump in her throat stays glued. “I’ll… I’ll pass by when you’re not here to… gather our remaining things. You can… You can change your pass code, then.”

 

“Okay,” Namjoon nods sharply, flexing his jaw.

 

Jina turns her back to him and walks to the door, hand on her burning heart as her face twists. Her hand trails up to her mouth to block out any sound that might come out as she lets go of her emotions.

 

Won’t he stop her? Won’t he pull her back and tell her to sit down again, that they can still fix this? They can find a way out or maybe that he understands? That he’s not as disappointed as he looks?

 

No. He hasn’t moved. He doesn’t even look in her direction when she opens the front door and walks out of it.

---

 

 

 

 

Being on morphine was nice. Hoseok basically lived on sedatives and painkillers that put him to sleep for a couple of days, and he can’t really say that he’s complaining. 

 

It reminded him of the good ol’ days, to feel like floating even if it is temporary. Only difference is that he didn’t really care about sleep back then.

 

He’d wake up after two...maximum three hours of sleep in the late hours of the afternoon, go get shit-faced high somewhere, go somewhere else to drink his liver away until he starts crashing down from his high, only to fix himself a few lines to hit again. It goes on and on until dawn when by some miracle someone would find him and take him home. 

 

At times, he couldn’t even manage to reach home. 

 

Cutting back was a fucking miracle. 

 

Sometimes he still yearns for the feeling of the powder spreading through his system like pixie dust. It’d take only seconds to wash all his pain away. Sometimes he does cave in, every now and then, but he’s managed to put himself on a leach. 

 

It’s the one thing he thinks he achieved well in his life.

It’s a little before four in the morning when Hoseok jolts awake. 

 

The sound of a phone buzzing next to his head is loud enough to interrupt his not-so-peaceful sleep. It takes him a couple of seconds to fully comprehend the sharp pain that initiates from his abdomen only to spread in the rest of his body like electricity. 

 

His mouth opens in a silent moan and a hand hovers over where his healing wound is, and he curses himself in his head.

 

Hoseok looks beside him. He has to physically restrict himself from an urge to smack the person sleeping next to him right across the face.

 

He picks up Yoongi’s still buzzing phone with unsteady hands, all while sending his sleeping face a death glare. Yoongi has his face buried in the pillow underneath his head with the covers barely leaving a part of the back of his head uncovered, messy hairs standing out in every direction.

 

He must have fallen asleep with his phone in his hands for it to end up laying between them, and Hoseok wants to shove it up his ass.

 

But it’s still ringing, so he closes his eyes with a sigh as he puts it to his ear.

 

“Yoongi, we have a fucking problem.”

 

Hoseok’s eyes snap open. “Jimin?”

 

“Hoseok-hyung?” Jimin’s voice is clearly taken aback through the static. “What—“

 

“What’s the problem?”

 

“Fuck…” Jimin lets out. “I think someone broke into Ji— The detective’s house.”

 

Hoseok sits up way too abruptly for it not to hurt. “What?!”

 

“I’m on watch tonight. I saw her go in a couple of hours ago and something was just smashed inside.”

 

“Fuck…” Hoseok gets out of bed, hearing shuffling on the other side of the phone. “Fuck, go see what’s going on. I’ll be there as fast as i can.”

 

“Hyung, no—”

 

“Shut up. I’m on my way.”

Yoongi made sure to give him his meds before he fell asleep, but they must be wearing off because Hoseok is too aware of his wound, and it hurts him with every step. 

 

He doesn’t think driving in his current state is a good idea, although calling a cab at such a late hour would take forever, and his nerves aren’t going to let him stay still. 

 

It takes him less than it normally would to get there, and he wouldn’t say he’s proud of the number of red lights he’s blown.

 

Or maybe he is.

 

When he gets there he sees the front gate opened, and the car that Jimin’s supposed to be in is empty. He hears his heartbeat in his ears as he hurries inside, something nasty coiling at his gut that he can only describe as panic. 

 

For some reason, he doesn’t like that very much, but still decides to push the thought to the corner of his mind as he knocks on the door.

 

He finds himself rubbing his hands on his thighs quickly, and fuck it’s cold. He’s wearing way too little layers. He can see the little fog his breath makes when it escapes his mouth, shivers trailing down his spine.

 

He waits for almost a minute, and he almost starts to knock again before the door flies open.

 

And Jimin looks worse than Hoseok thought he would.

 

“Hyung,” He breathes out. “You’re here.”

 

“Why do you look like that?” Hoseok asks, a frown taking over his face. “What the fuck happened?”

 

Jimin’s face is flushed, eyes red around the edges, and very fucking bloodshot. He swallows hard and steps aside for Hoseok to pass through.“Nothing. Nothing happened, she just—”

 

“Where is she?” Hoseok slides off his shoes and climbs up the few stairs behind the front door.

 

The house looks just like how he remembers, except it's less messy, less bloody. A sense of deja-vu hits him when he reaches the living room. It looks like it was deep-cleaned. He sees absolutely no traces of that night. 

 

As warm and lively it seems, with traces of Jina and Daeun in every corner and on every wall, it is too quiet.

 

Hoseok walks deeper, sharp eyes inspecting the empty area, and something crunches under his foot. “Ah—“

 

“Watch out,” Jimin pushes the door closed and hurries to his friend’s side. “There’s broken glass everywhere.”

 

Hoseok caught himself before the glass penetrated his socks-covered foot. He looks up at Jimin from the ground. “And why is that?”

 

“She’s in there,” Jimin points at a hallway extending from the living room. The older starts to move, and Jimin is right behind him. “She got drunk and…” He sighs, pausing for a moment. “She broke the bottle because it was empty.”

 

Hoseok halts at the door Jimin pointed at, letting the information load in his brain as his eyes fall on the figure laying on the bed on the other side of the room.

 

“She’s hurt. She hurt her hand when it broke and she kept saying that—“

 

“She got drunk.”

 

Jimin sighs again. “Yes.”

 

“You called me because she was drunk.”

 

“I called Yoongi,” Jimin corrects, looking at the side of Hoseok’s face as the older keeps his eyes on the sleeping figure. “You answered. I didn’t know you’d answer and I didn't know what happened.”

 

Hoseok steps closer, and he can barely recognize her. An uneasy feeling sinks its teeth in his chest, and this time, he can’t ignore it.

 

“She wasn’t in a very stable state when I got here.”

 

Jina’s face is sunken and pale, the color in her cheeks nowhere to be seen. An ugly, green bruise hugs one of her jaws mercilessly and her short hair was out of her face, a few strands standing out.  

 

There is a cut on her hairline and another on her jawline, they have dried blood scarring the patch of previously smooth skin. 

 

Hoseok hasn’t seen her in a long time, but he didn’t think that she’d look like this. Hell, she looks worse than he does and he’s the one that was in a coma until a few days ago. 

 

“She kept saying her ribs hurt,” Jimin says, his voice quiet and unsteady. “Taehyung told me she’s been overworking after the incident.”

 

“She fractured her rib. Didn’t stay in the hospital, though.”

 

It was a lot to take in, and Hoseok can’t say that he’s awake enough to fully grasp everything.

 

 Jina got drunk, again, and Jimin is here and he looks like shit. Jimin isn’t even supposed to be watching the house. Hongjoong and his men are the ones supposed to handle that.

 

Jimin, who hasn’t contacted him since he woke up from his little mini coma, as Jeongguk liked to put it, and neither did Jina. 

 

Jina, who he ran over for in case she was in danger again, even in his own fucked up state.

 

It feels offending if anything. Hoseok even might say that he feels hurt, but he would never admit something like that. 

 

He doesn’t really know which of the two does he dislike more, at the moment, but he knows that underneath all the worry that’s fogging up his dazed brain, he’s pissed.

 

Yoongi’s been staying with him since he got discharged to take care of him, and Hoseok asked him about Jimin when he noticed his absence. Yoongi told him that he was busy one time, then that he was going through some shit of his own the other time. 

 

He didn’t sound like he was lying as much as he sounded like he was covering shit up, but seeing the look in Jimin’s eyes now, he can’t help but dislike him a little less.

 

But Jina, damn it, he’s… annoyed. It’s not like he almost fucking died for her, or anything.

 

Although, he doesn’t feel entitled to feel like this. He shouldn’t feel like this. He shouldn’t expect anything from her, so why the fuck does he—

 

“Hyung,” Jimin sounds breathless this time. Hoseok looks at him in the dimly-lit room when he feels a hand on his elbow, and Hoseok’s eyes soften at the look on his face. “We...We need to talk.”

 

And they leave the room to do just that. 

 

Jimin pulls him back to the living room and forces him to sit down, telling him how he already feels bad for making him come when he should be resting.

 

“Oh, so now you’re worried?”

 

Jimin sits down on the armchair beside the couch Hoseok sat on, facing him. He lets out a sigh and leans back, his hands on his thighs. 

 

“I know,  and I’m sorry. I really am. I had things to deal with, I still do, and I didn’t really want you to see me like…” He pauses, gesturing to himself with a sniff. “Like this.”

 

Hoseok sighs, a frown still stuck to his face when Jimin brings his gaze to him again.

 

“What happened, Jimin?”

 

He looks away from Hoseok one more time, leaning his elbows on his knees as he let his head fall to his chest. 

 

“I’m sorry again for not coming to see you right away,” Jimin says.  “I was kind of avoiding you because it felt too awkward and complicated for me to tell you something like this. I feel like it might complicate things even more.”

 

“You’re kinda worrying me…” Hoseok lets out. “Did something new happen?”

 

“It’s… not exactly new.” Jimin sighs, pausing to look for the right words. He looks up at Hoseok again. “I… I had my suspicions for a while already. I think I was just too scared to confirm it.”

 

“Jimin, Don’t…” Hoseok brings his hands to his hair, leaning back with an annoyed look on his tensing face. “ Just spit it out.”

 

“When you were brought to the hospital…” The younger finally starts. “Jina… The detective was in a bad state. She didn’t want to leave until you were done with your surgery. She didn’t even wash the blood from her hands.”

 

Something tugs at Hoseok’s chest. Again.

 

It isn’t the easiest thing for him to imagine, the image of Jina all bloody and worried about him , but he doesn’t like the feeling that comes with it when he finally does. 

 

They told him about it, about how she took care of him until they reached the hospital and how he wasn’t letting go of her hand, but with how much emphasis everyone is putting on the whole situation, it feels worse than he thinks. It makes him feel bad.

 

Fuck, she always manages to make him feel bad.

 

“I came as fast as I could with Yoongi but… I didn't think she’d stay. I didn’t know…”

 

“Jimin, I seriously don’t understand where this is going.” Hoseok snaps impatiently.

 

“I had a sister.” The younger shoots. Like he spoke without thinking. “You know that, right?”

 

Then, they stare at each other, and Hoseok hopes he’s just being overdramatic with thinking about the thing he just thought about.

 

“After my father disowned me,” Jimin looks down at his hands. “ I stopped trying to reach them because he threatened to hurt her, and he was more than capable of doing so. I thought letting go was the best possible option to… at least keep her and my mother alive, you know.”

 

Hoseok puts his hands on his face. “Fuck...” 

 

“I thought I wouldn’t see them again. I didn’t know fate would be so twisted to put me in such a position.”

 

“Hold on…” Hoseok puts his palm up, looking down for a few seconds, trying to process. “Jina… As in… police detective Park Jina… she’s your fucking sister?”

 

 It was Jimin’s turn to put his hands on his face. “It sounds so cliche when you put it like that.”

 

“What the fuck?!”

 

“At first, I didn’t even care enough to know her name.” The younger slides his hands down and tangled them together at his lips, elbows still on his knees. “Then Yoongi hyung mentioned her name in front of me and I started having this bad feeling about the whole thing because it sounded way too familiar and… I didn’t think she’d manage to end up being a fucking detective. It was a far fetch. I didn’t… I didn’t know…”

 

“Wait… Wait.” Hoseok says firmly, hand gestures and all. “But are you sure it’s her? Like 100%?”

 

“Hyung… I’m pretty sure I’ll know my younger sister when I see her.”

 

Hoseok stares at his friend, eyes wide, mind glitching. The more he stares, the more he sees the physical resemblance, and fuck he should’ve known when he thought she was familiar the first time he saw her.

 

Same striking eyes, same golden-colored skin, heck...even both of them are short. 

 

“You’re fucking with me.” 

 

“I told them not to tell you until I could tell you myself.” Jimin nods, averting his gaze from Hoseok’s still wide one. “Honestly, I wouldn’t have done it for a couple more weeks until I mustered enough courage to finally address this… but whatever happened tonight just--”

 

“She saw you?” Hoseok asks, sliding to the edge of his seat. “Did she recognize you?”

 

“She did,” Jimin nods again, pulling his lips in a thin line. “Like I told you, she wasn’t really in a good state when I came here. I don’t think she’ll remember what happened, anyway. I hope she doesn’t.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“She cried. Jina doesn’t like crying, and she doesn’t like someone seeing her when she does. Kept telling me how she’s tired of having nightmares even when she’s awake.” Jimin’s voice cracks. He looks up at his older friend, and Hoseok sees the tears pooling in his eyes. “She didn’t even think I was real.”

After Jimin decides that he needs to leave, Hoseok contemplates whether he should stay or not.

 

Either way, someone else is  going to take Jimin’s place on watching the house, so it’s somewhat safe for her to stay, but he couldn’t bring himself to let her stay alone in her condition. 

 

He tried to convince himself that he shouldn’t stay, that she wouldn’t want him to stay. But as he takes one last look at her sleeping form, it only takes three seconds for all his reasons to leave to be minced into nothing but unseen dust.

 

Maybe he should take her back to his own apartment. Maybe that would make him feel less irritated, but he can’t move her to the car on his own. 

 

He isn’t even going to try. As it seems, they’re both in pain. One wrong move and everything goes to hell, and both of them can barely take care of themselves to take care of another person.

 

Jina wouldn’t care enough to take care of him if needed anyway. He doesn’t think he’d even allow it. It makes him feel a little pathetic, but it doesn’t make him leave.

 

So, Hoseok swallows his pride and goes back out to the living room because this is the right thing to do. Because Hoseok promised her that she’ll be safe as long as she does what she’s told, and he’s already got her neck deep into shit she has nothing to do with. 

 

He tries to stay awake, he really does, but his eyes grow too heavy and the house is warm. The sky outside the closed curtains starts to turn purple before he involuntarily gives in. 

 

Hoseok’s head falls to the back of the armchair he’s sitting on and he crosses his arms over his chest, a nasty sting still accompanying his every move, then he lets darkness take over.

 

For some time, it feels like he’s stuck in a state between consciousness and unconsciousness. His brain is too vexed to allow him to fully relax. He can still hear the birds chirping outside, can hear the quietness of the area around him, but he sees images and scenes too vividly in his brain like he’s watching a movie.

 

He’s not uncomfortable, yet not very relaxed, but he can work with what he has. At least he’s not in as much pain as he was before he fell asleep, but he knows it’s gonna be even more irritating when he wakes up.

 

Hoseok shifts and fidgets ever so slightly, the movement somewhat pulling him back to reality for short moments before he is pulled back in. 

 

When quiet shuffling meets his ears, he doesn’t know if this is a dream or reality. It falls silent around him again, and he sinks comfortably in his seat, but it is cut short when he suddenly feels a presence too close to him.

 

Hoseok snaps a hand out, fingers latching on whatever he felt was about to touch him.

 

His eyes fly open and he hears a yelp. The person in front of him leans down a little, mouth falling open silently in pain.

 

It takes him a few seconds before he has a grasp on reality again, and he realizes that his grip was a little too hard. Recognition falls over him and his eyes widen, letting go of the small wrist he had in his hand like he touched lava.

 

“Fuck,” Hoseok lets out, eyes scanning over Jina’s pained expression. “Are you okay?”

 

“Dude, what the fuck,” Jina grimaces, straightening up while wrapping her other hand around her wrist. She seems to do this a lot whenever Hoseok is around, and he feels bad. “I was just putting a blanket on you!”

 

He looks down, eyes falling on the pastel blanket half-way up to his chest, then he looks back up at her. 

 

Hoseok feels bad because he always seems to be so harsh on her, and she was just trying to put a blanket on him. Because She saved Chungha years ago. Because she’s Jimin’s little sister.

 

Ah, fuck. She’s Jimin’s little sister.

 

“I’m sorry, I just…” He pauses to look for the right word. “It’s a reflex. Sorry.”

 

Jina steps back and gives him a weird look, hugging her wrist tight to her chest. “It’s fine,” She lets out. “I guess.”

 

“You…” Hoseok snaps out of his daze. He puts his hands on the armrests of the chair and tries to stand up with a grimace of his own. “Shouldn’t you be resting? Why are you here?”

 

“Hoseok,” Jina blinks and takes another step back, watching him as he straightens up. “Why are you here?”

 

He stares at her, trying not to show his building nervousness.

 

Does she remember? Should he tell her about Jimin?

 

“Oh god,” Despair is clear in Jina’s  eyes. “Please tell me I didn’t drunk call you and made a fool out of myself.”

 

Why would she make a fool out of herself?

 

Hoseok tilts his head slightly. “You don’t remember what happened last night?”

 

“Something happened last night?” She appears panicked.

 

Hoseok frowns a little at her response. He is unsure whether she’s lying or she really doesn’t remember anything. He licks his lips and forces his brain to work, to pull up anything to say, but he stays quiet for a few seconds too long, and Jina’s eyes start to widen.

 

“One of my men was watching the house and he heard something break.” Hoseok half-lies. “He called me and...and I came to see what was going on.”

 

Now, why the fuck did he stutter?

 

Jina seems to be inspecting him for a few seconds, a little pout taking over her lips. She looks away, swaying slightly on her feet, and Hoseok’s hands move on their own to grab her by her biceps. He helps her steady herself, but when the light coming from the slit between the curtains falls on her face, he finds it hard to step back again.

 

Hoseok knew her eyes are a little brighter, but when the sunlight falls on them, they’re honey-colored and warm, and he finds himself staring again, just like the time in the interrogation room. 

 

He can see how tired she is. How red veins dance and tangle in her eyes, with little too much shadow falling underneath them. Her cheeks seem thinner than he remembers, sunken and pale, but at least now she has even the slightest of color in them.

 

Hoseok catches himself wondering how can someone still look so pretty, even when beaten up and bruised like she is.

 

It’s just another painful reminder that she’s like this because of him.

 

“I, uh…” Jina lets out, and Hoseok feels a little too good about the red color that spreads on her pale cheeks. “I’m fine now. You can let go.”

 

He steps back wordlessly, feeling the seat of the chair behind him hit the back of his knees. His hands fall to his sides and he clenches them slightly. 

 

He looks at her again. He notices the dampness of her hair and the clean change of clothes she has on. Even her lashes are stuck to each other a little, tiny little droplets of water adhering them together. The collar of her hoodie is a little damp around the edges, and fuck… She looks so… comfy.

 

Tension builds, he feels it buzz in the air as they both stare at one another with unreadable expressions. 

 

“Why uhm…” Jina starts, letting her hands fall to her sides as well. “Why did you stay the night, then?”

 

Because I’m worried. He wants to say. Because I feel bad.

 

“You looked like you shouldn’t be left alone.” He manages to say instead. “You broke the tequila bottle because it was empty after you finished it.”

 

Her features twisted and she cringes, her fists balling in front of her. “Stop talking.”

 

Somehow, Hoseok finds her response amusing. “You know, you should really cut back on alcohol. Last time you almost stabbed a guy in the face—“

 

“Aaarrgghhhhh…” Jina lets out, putting her hands on her face while bending down a little, and Hoseok finds himself chuckling. “Please stop talking.”

 

“Your secret is safe with me,” She straightens back up, and a smile slips on Hoseok’s lips. She still has her hands on her face. “Happens to the best of us.”

 

He should be mad, shouldn’t he? 

 

Because this is the first time they talk after the incident, she didn’t reach out to him after waking up. In a way, he’s still pissed and he remembers so, but fuck… with the tension washing away around them, and the way she seems to be relaxed in his presence for the first time ever, he isn’t going to ruin this.

 

He doesn’t want to ruin it.

 

Jina peaks at him from between her fingers and their eyes meet again, but her gaze turns into something else, leaning more on worry, and he feels the atmosphere change again.

 

Jina let her hands fall from her face. “Wait.”

 

Hoseok’s eyebrows furrow a little.

 

“You stayed here?” She asks, eyes widening almost comically. “You… You stayed here all night? On the chair?”

 

“I thought we already established that--”

 

“Shouldn’t you be on bed rest?” Jina takes a step closer, and Hoseok still manages to find warmth beyond all the worry in her eyes. “No, wait. You shouldn’t even be here.” She looks down where his wound is, hidden under his sweater, a hand reaching out to grab his arm absentmindedly. “Fuck, Hoseok, you should be resting.”

 

So much for not wanting to ruin the moment, but he starts feeling petty all of the sudden. Again.

 

“So you do know that I’m injured,” Hoseok finds himself saying, tongue dripping with sarcasm. “Wouldn’t have guessed so, to be honest. Since you’ve been pretending like I don’t exist, and all.”

 

“I—“

 

“Not like I almost died for you or anything.”

 

“Can you at least…” Jina looks away, looking around her, searching for something. “Can we move to somewhere more comfortable?” When she looks back at him, he can see how apologetic her eyes were, and as sadistic as it sounded, he likes it. “You shouldn’t be standing for long.”

 

Only after the words leave her mouth that he notices how much pain he’s in, and it’s just as he predicted before he falls asleep. He clenches his jaw and puts a hand on his throbbing wound, and he’s glad he wasn’t awake for most of the time it usually takes for a stab wound to heal. 

 

Now it just settled for itchiness and throbbing spikes that remind him of the uncomfortableness that comes with the wound.

 

“I’m fine,” Hoseok grumbles, almost sounding like a muttering child.

 

“You told me you were fine when you were bleeding your ass off too,” Jina says and pulls at his sleeve gently, starting to walk where her bedroom is. “Lying is a disease, you know?”

 

Though he’s gonna keep acting petty for some more time, he lets her drag him behind her, and maybe he doesn’t mind it. 

 

Maybe he likes her attention, and even wants more of it.

 

And what about it? Why does he have to keep himself back when it feels so nice?

 

He noticed it last night too, that her room is big and comfortable. Now that he’s inside, he feels like he wants to try to sit on every cushion present because holy shit it all looks so comfortable. Her bed’s headboard is pushed up to the wall with a pile of cushions in front of it, with a desk beside it that had a few pictures pinned to the board on top of it .

 

The walls are a warm, champagne color, and Hoseok notices how much she likes that color. 

 

“Lay down,” Jina gestures to the bed when they settle beside it. “I’ll go find something for you to drink.”

 

Before she turns and starts moving, Hoseok grabs her by her elbow to stop her. “I don’t think you should be moving around either.” She looks up at him, looking like her mind is processing. “Seonghwa  told me you didn’t stay in the hospital for long. Fractured ribs don’t require consistent bed rest but you haven’t been getting any at all, am i right?”

 

“I’m fine,” Jina pulls her elbow out of his grasp. “It doesn’t hurt as much anymore.”

 

“She kept saying she’s in pain.”

 

“Why are you still walking with a limp, then?”

 

“I wasn’t limping—“

 

“I’m not blind.” Hoseok cuts her off. “You should’ve known that the more you rest, the faster you’ll be back on your feet. One wrong move and all your progress will be thrown to shit.”

 

“Can you just—“ She pauses, raising her hands up, her palms stretched. “Can you just lay down? I’ll be quick. I got my fair share of lectures in the past week. I don’t think i wanna hear more.”

When Jina hurries out of the room before Hoseok has the chance to say something else, she finally has the freedom of expression and she lets her eyes widen, mumbling curses under her breath. She walks to the kitchen and stands before the cupboard, staring blankly in front of her because she did not, for the life of her, prepare herself to be put in such a position.

 

She only remembers up until the bottle she bought on her way was half empty, and everything after that just blends together and she can’t even understand what was a dream and what wasn’t. 

 

What she remembers, though, after that point, is that someone knocked at her door and she let them in. It must’ve been Hoseok, but she doesn’t know how to feel about that just yet.

 

Is she glad to see him up and running? Fuck, she can hug him if she could. But is she ready to actually sit down and explain why she hasn’t been in contact with him for the past few days? Hell no. 

 

For the main part, because Jina didn’t quite understand why herself.

 

She’s been working, that could be enough of an excuse, but that just makes her appear like a shitty person. Hoseok literally almost died because of her, the least she could do is show him gratitude for this but, it was only when she’s right in front of him that she realizes and admits to herself that she was scared of his response all along.

 

Because Hoseok might hate her, right? Because he almost died and she was the reason behind it all. Because she’s too stubborn to let things go when needed. She felt like he’d kick her right out for causing all this trouble, and she would carry the weight of this guilt for the rest of her life, even if she tries to convince herself that he’s the reason all of this had happened to her anyways.

 

It was a shitty move from Jina, she knows that much. The more she tried to buy herself time to prepare herself to be faced with rejection, the more ungrateful and rude she must have looked to him, and he has every right to be pissed.

 

It was only when Hoseok was in front of her that she realized that the task was so much easier than she thought. 

 

It was when she saw how his eyes curl when he smiles, and how she felt like she wanted to see more of it.

 

But she blew it. Because now he’s pissed. He has been all this time, but he still came when he thought she was in danger. He still stayed and watched out for her, and she never went to see him after Yoongi told her that he woke up.

 

And she feels like shit.

 

Jina walks back to the room with trembling hands that she tries to hide, but she can still see the steaming liquid in the mugs move with the movement of her hands.

 

She sighs quietly and looks up as she enters her room, and Hoseok, as instructed, lays in her bed quietly.

 

Jina walks towards it as steadily as she can, then she puts the tray on her bedside table. She pushes it inside so it wouldn’t tip over and when she looks up, she freezes in her skin.

 

Hoseok’s eyes are closed. His chest goes up and down steadily, and Jina realizes that he’d fallen asleep.

 

She straightens up, a pout taking over her lips but she misses the way her eyes involuntarily soften.

 

He must’ve been tired to fall asleep this fast.

 

Jina bends down and pulls his feet underneath the cover that he pushed aside, before pulling it up all the way to his chest. He stirs a little, a slight frown taking over his sleeping face. 

 

His eyes flutter somewhat open a bit and  his dazed gaze looks around until it falls on Jina’s.

 

 Is he a light sleeper?

 

“Did I wake you?” Jina’s voice is just above a whisper. “Do you want me to leave?”

 

It looks like he isn’t fully awake because when he shakes his head no, his eyes flutter closed again. Jina sighs and is about to walk away to sit on the vanity chair a few feet away before she feels fingers wrapping around her wrist again.

 

Except that this time it’s loose and gentle, like the time in his office. Like the time back in his room. Like she can pull away if she wants to.

 

Jina doesn’t know if she wants to.

 

“Lay with me,” Hoseok manages to grumble out, his voice deeper than usual. Jina can hear her heartbeat quicken in her ear. “Just this once.”

 

Jina pulls her bottom lip between her teeth as she watches him scoot aside in the bed with a little moan, leaving enough space for her. Jina eyes the empty space for a few seconds, and she can turn back. She can pull her wrist out of his grip and go sit somewhere else, but she doesn’t want to.

 

It feels wrong. It feels so fucking wrong, but she doesn’t want to.

 

Wordlessly, Jina climbs in the empty space and pulls the covers on top of both of them, laying on her good side to face him. 

 

It’s warm, where he previously laid. The curtains on her window are closed all the way, and the shades of the rising sun emphasize the mood that settles itself upon the quiet room.

 

Warm. Peaceful. Relaxing, even. She never thought a day like this would come. Where she lays beside him, the reason for her constant headache, and feel like she doesn’t want to get up. 

 

There isn’t much space between them, and Hoseok is on his side, too, facing her. He never let go of her wrist after she climbed in, but Jina feels the way his fingers trail down to her palm. She holds her breath, and she can’t pull her eyes away from Hoseok’s still face.

 

It’s her first time seeing Hoseok this close, it feels a bit overwhelming. He doesn’t look bad. His features are relaxed. No teasing smirks, no pissed off- frowns. Jina can feel his breath on her cheeks, and she wants to trace his face with her free hand, but she remains frozen.

 

“I’m so sorry.” Jina whispers breathily.

 

A few seconds pass by, and she starts to think that he fell back asleep.

 

Then, she watches his eyebrows furrowing weakly, keeping his eyes closed. “Hm?”

 

“I...I didn’t come to see you.” Jina keeps her voice quiet. “You’re like this because of me. I’m so sorry.”

 

Hoseok’s eyes open slightly, a hooded gaze meeting her own. “I’m not like this because of you. You’re not the one that stabbed me.”

 

“I still didn’t come to see you,” At this point, she doesn’t think she has much control over what’s coming out of her mouth. A lump tangles in her throat and her eyes sting, but she refuses to break. “I… I should’ve come. I thought you were guh-gonna be mad because...because you got fucking stabbed because of me. I didn’t… I didn’t wanna s-see you mad but I was so worried. I was so fucking worried and you weren’t waking up—”

 

“Hey, hey,” His gaze is more alert now. “I’m fine now, yeah? I’m more than fine.”

 

“You looked so—” Jina gasps a little, her sight blurring with the brimming tears in her eyes. She can’t cry. She shouldn’t fucking cry in front of him. “You looked so...dead and it was my fault because I’m so fucking stubborn. You...you kept holding onto me n’ you didn’t let go and i didn’t come fucking see you because I was scared of your reaction and- fuck…” She brings her free hand up to her eyes, covering them. “I’m suh-so fuck-ing sorry, Hoseok. I’m so—”

 

Jina hates crying. She hates it when someone sees her cry, and Hoseok remembers Jimin telling him so.

 

She hates it when someone sees her cry so when a sob breaks out of her mouth involuntarily, Hoseok’s hands move on their own again. 

 

Hoseok pulls her in and lets go of her hand, only to bring it to the back of her head to push her down a little, pulling her into his chest.  His other arm wraps around her gently, and he feels her fists wrapping around the material of his sweater tightly, another sob shaking her smaller body.

 

Jina doesn’t understand why she’s crying, but it was already too late to pull herself together. Hoseok continues to hold her tightly and she feels like she wants to cry even more, but she doesn’t think he should forgive her so easily. She doesn’t think he should hold her like this. She doesn’t think she deserves it.

 

But he is. And it feels nice, and she feels like she doesn’t want him to let go. 

 

Because it’s nicer to be held than to hold on, and she’s only discovering this now.

 

---

 

 

 

 

 

“ Wuh-why can’t we go to-together?”

 

She wanted to tell him, she wanted to tell him everything, but she’ll only scare her little boy more.

 

“So we can confuse them a little,” She smiled down at him, straightening up again while keeping his hand in hers as she looked around one last time, before letting go. “We’ll meet a little bit after the treeline, okay?” 

 

He nodded.

 

“Never stop running no matter what happens, okay baby?”

 

He nodded once more.

 

“You know what to do if we got separated, right?”

 

“But mom--”

 

“What will you do, Hoseok?”

 

He looked down to his feet, a silent sob shaking his body as he brought his hand up to cover his eyes. “I’ll keep going until I find someone to take me to daddy.”

 

“You’re such a good boy, Hoseok,” She smiled, squatting down while taking away his hand from his face. “Such a good, brave boy. I’m so proud of you.” 

 

His mother ruffled his hair, bringing him closer so she could plant a kiss on his cheek. When she looked at him again, it looked like she was memorizing every single detail of his face, going over and over his features again with the smile that Hoseok recognized never leaving her face. 

 

When she finally realized that they were running out of time, she wiped away his tears with her thumb once more, the love she had for him so apparent and radiant in her dark brown eyes “I’m so proud of you, Jung Hoseok.”  

Notes:

welp
thought id...you know
god why am i like this
anywho...ID LOVE TO HEAR YOUR PREDICTIONS FOR FUTURE CHAPTERS!! so tell me how do u think jina would react when she sees jimin again?
also...how do we feel about hoseok finally letting himself feel something:] do you think he’ll start holding himself back again?
i think this is the turning point of the story so...watch out ig lol
YOUR COMMENTS AND KUDOS MAKE MY DAY!! please continue leaving me nice things it motivates me to write🥺🥺
I HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS CHAPTER TOO!! thank you so much for reading<3
see you soon!

Chapter 10: dice

Summary:

“I couldn’t,” Jina says sincerely. “I just couldn’t. Not after what he did to me,” She pauses to swallow. “Or to you.”

Notes:

looks around
lol hehhhehhhh hi? YALL FORGOT ABOUT ME DIDN'T YOU
I'M EXTREMELY SORRY FOR THIS VERY VERY /VERY/ LATE UPDATE BUT!!! i've been lacking motivation bc of uni big time AND ramadan started so i have less time to write for the next month :(
which reminds me, RAMADAN KAREEM TO MY MUSLIM READERS!! i hope you have a blessed month<3
This chapter is shorter than my average chapter but... it's basically 8k of domestic fluff.
my hands ACHED to add a hint of angst in there but i just couldn't
don't get used to this tho lol
ANYWAYS!!! like i said A LOT OF what i call fluff and a lot of dialogue so.... yeah!! heh
Let's hope next update won't be as late as this one! i apologize again:(
your comments and kudos mean a lot to me!! sometimes they're genuinely the reason i get up and decide to write again <3
now les get it

It’s warm.

Hoseok isn’t sure if it’s the very thin slit of sunlight falling on him, the warm-toned walls, or the figure in his arms, but it’s warm and pleasant. The cover curves on top of them in all the right ways and the faint chirping outside attempts to lull him to sleep.

Jina has both arms tugged between them. Loose fists still wrinkle the material of Hoseok’s sweater, but Jina remains still. Her breath had steadied long ago, now allowing her chest to rise and fall against his own with no strain.

With every uncontrollable sob, Jina’s fists had tightened on Hoseok. She’d tense in his arms and wince out, and it didn’t take Hoseok long to realize that she’s in pain.

“Shhh,” He’d whispered. “Don’t apologize, mh? You did nothing wrong.”

Her head was still tugged under his chin when he felt her shudder. He heard her let out a little wince as she tugged him closer by his sweater, but he couldn’t help but loosen his grip around her. He was scared he’d hurt her further if he continued to hold her as tightly.

“Yuh-You m-must think of me re...really badly nuh-now, huh?”

“I don’t,” Hoseok told her. He tried to look down at her, but she kept her face hidden in his chest. “I really don’t.”

I never did. He wanted to tell her.

Jina let out a shaky breath, and Hoseok felt it on his neck. He brought his hand to her bicep and gave it a little squeeze, and gosh, he fucking hates how tense she is under his fingers.

She winces again. “H-hurts…”

“Do you want me to let go?”

Her grip tightens on him again.

“No,” It comes out sharp and panicky. Her muscle relaxes ever so slightly. “N-no. Just this… Just this once.”

Hoseok blinks. His eyes flicker down again and he catches a glimpse of a red, teary cheek. She attempts to slowly take a deep breath, her face scrunched up in a pained expression, then she relaxes against him.

“Okay,” Hoseok nodded, letting out a breath of his own. “Just this once.”

 

There is a damp spot under where her head lays. It seeps into a part of the sleeve under her neck, and the patch of coolness starts ruining the calmness of Hoseok’s state soon enough. He tries to ignore it, tries to close his eyes and enjoy the warmth just this once, but he fails to fall asleep as Jina has.

She might wake up in pain again. Hoseok should be attentive enough to try to help her again.

What if he holds her too tight? He usually fidgets when he has a nightmare, what if one manages to chase after him this time too?

Hoseok doesn’t think he wants to be a reason behind her pain again.

He sees that Jina had made them something warm, probably tea, by the looks of it. Two mugs stay in their place on the bedside table behind Jina, now cold and probably undrinkable.

It feels like she melts in his arms with every exhale. A hand falls at the curve of her waist while the other stays on the back of her head, and Hoseok finds his fingers playing with a strand of her now-mostly dry hair every now and then.

Hoseok breathes in, and the scent of the vanilla shampoo she must’ve used continues to fill his lungs. He flutters his eyes closed and tries again.

He should stop overthinking.

Something as simple as holding someone in his arms, he should at least let himself have this luxury. Just this once.

Just this once.

 

 

 

Jina feels sore when she is pulled out of sleep. Her eyes are heavy and she feels a dull nagging at one side of her rib cage, so she carefully turns herself on her back instead.

She thought she would’ve gotten used to the pain by now, it’s already been over a week. It still throbs and spikes whenever she tries to take deeper breaths, and she can still see the ugly bruise on her ribs every time she looks in the mirror.

Jina curses Changmin in her head, and she forces her eyes open.

It’s still, the house is completely quiet. The curtain on her window is pulled to the side just a little, just enough for her to recognize the color of the sun that’s about to set.

Jina lets out a hum and pulls the covers up to her chin, and lets her eyes flutter closed again.

It’s her day off today. Might as well let herself off the hook for a bit, eh? The covers feel warm wrapped around her body like that, and it’s quiet. Her mind is too sleepy to think of anything else except for just how much sleep is pulling her back in, and she’s grateful.

Jina hasn’t slept well since before the night she spent at Hoseok’s. She wants to seize the moment amidst her already growing sleepiness and sleep some more.

Her eyes feel so heavy, it almost hurts even when she has them closed. Like she’s been crying. She can feel a light migraine too, but that could be because of her drowning herself in alcohol the night before.

Ah, she really needs to try to control this, now.

But that’s not a thing to think about now. She pushes it to the back of her head and the groggy voice inside quiets down again, and she focuses on how particularly nice her bed is today.

Jina feels the back of her head tingle pleasantly. A little smile paints itself on her lips as she reminisces just how much she liked her hair being played with, fingertips grazing her scalp so softly that it trails shivers down her spine.

It’s nice. Her mom hasn’t done that in some time. Jina is glad that she could at least have that in such a stressful period.

Except, her mom wasn’t home. She’s in Hoseok’s penthouse.

Hoseok...Hoseok came.

Jina’s body tenses up, her eyes flying open. Her neck snaps to the other side of the bed, and it’s empty.

Oh fuck. Fuck. Fuck fuck.

If she ignores it, maybe it’ll fade into nothingness. Maybe it’ll be like it didn’t happen.

Fuck, how could she let herself do that?

“Fuck…” Jina puts her hands on her face and she winces.

Of course he left. He just came to check if she’s okay, he wouldn’t stay this long.

“You’re up?”

Jina gasps loudly at the sudden voice that comes from the door. The action allows the movement of her ribs to knock the air out of her, and she bends to the side in pain. With a choked moan, Jina squeezes her tired eyes shut.

“Oh shit,” Hurried footsteps make their way over, then there is a hand on her back. “Shit, are you okay?”

Jina tries to hum out in assurance, but that as well, sounds choked and barely audible. A hand settles on her shoulder and she’s pulled forwards in a sitting position, then it trails to the center of her back to give it a gentle push.

“Keep your back straight,” The bed dips, and a knee touches hers from over the covers. Her eyes start to open again, slowly so, when Hoseok’s hand doesn’t move from her back. “Can you breathe well?”

Jina is reminded of just how pretty Hoseok is up close.

It’s as if she has to shake her head to push the thought away. “I can.”

“You really should’ve taken your time resting before you returned to work,” Hoseok mumbles, eyes glazing over her face. His lips quiver downwards a bit and Jina swallows. His free hand touches her chin lightly, tilting her head to the side. “Even the bruises aren’t properly taken care of.”

“It’ll heal sooner or later,” Jina blinks away from his gaze when it meets hers.

“If your rib heals wrong it’ll cause a lot of trouble,” Hoseok says and lets his hand fall from her back to his lap. He tilts her head the other way, examining the rest of her face. “You really should’ve stayed in the hospital.”

“How exactly was I supposed to do that?” Jina frowns, her voice snappier than she intended. “They were going to transfer him already. I had to speak with him first.”

Hoseok’s eyes flicker to hers, and she doesn’t look away this time. “He’s gonna be dealt with. You should’ve focused on getting better first so you can carry this out well.”

Now, how the fuck is that supposed to make her feel?

Changmin is gonna be dealt with, in or out of prison. That was a fact, even though she didn’t like any aspect of it since it just proves how deeply rooted people like Hoseok’s power is in the system she thought was spotless for so long. But then again, what could legally happen to him isn’t as satisfying as Jina thought it would be.

The fucker… He could’ve done much worse things than beating her up if she went home with him that night. She would’ve been ten feet under already, and no one would’ve known. No one.

“I couldn’t,” Jina says sincerely. “I just couldn’t. Not after what he did to me,” She pauses to swallow. “Or to you.”

One corner of Hoseok’s lips pulls up a bit, something pleasant written on his features. His hand falls from her face to the mattress, and he leans on it.

“Don’t worry about that now,” He tells her. “You should focus on getting better now that he’s somewhat out of the way.”

“I still have work to do,” Jina protests, even though she looks like she’s a second away from passing out again. “We got a new lead a few days ago about the person that made the call. We think he’s got something to do with… with what happened.”

Why is she finding it so fucking hard to mention that night?

“You’ve got what? Three? Four other people in your division. I’m sure they can handle it just fine.”

“I can’t, Hoseok.” Jina’s exhaustion makes an appearance again in her tone. “I can’t let people do the shit I have to do.”

Hoseok knows that. She always told him so.

He leans back. “It’s not like you’re gonna go on vacation in fucking… Hawaii or something. Your body needs enough time to heal before you go guns blazing on whoever is behind this.”

Jina stays silent. Mostly because she isn’t convinced in the slightest, even though she knows he's right.

“Listen, I'm all for violence and bloodshed,” Hoseok starts again. Jina frowns. “But you have to be able to stand straight first before you can shoot someone properly.”

And he is met with more silence, except that Jina’s facial expression morphs in a look of disbelief. Her mouth falls open a little and she leans back, and Hoseok doesn’t understand what’s going on.

“What?”

“There are so many things wrong about this. It’s my fault that I forget you’re a fucking mafia leader sometimes. ”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Hoseok sounds unsure. He pushes himself up from the bed with a slight grimace that he tries to cover up with a cough, but it never misses Jina’s ears. “Anyways, your mom called. She was pretty worried about you. I told her you’ll stay here today to rest a bit. She says you don’t have to worry about her and that Jeongguk is keeping her company just fine.”

Jina looks back at the phone she’s sure she left on the bedside table, to find it there with a dark screen. The tray she previously left beside it isn’t there anymore.

“I called Seonghwa too,” Hoseok goes on, and Jina looks back up to him with a blank expression. “I asked him about meds and stuff you should do nd’ shit. Chungha passed them by not so long ago. You just have to eat something before taking them.”

Jina’s heart clenches at the mention of her friend’s name, but there is too much coming out of his mouth that her brain literally lags as it tries to catch up. She stays quiet for some more, just staring up at him.

She can’t help but feel the slight tingle in her stomach that forces her to look away from him seconds later.

“I ordered pizza, I don’t know if you like it but…” Hoseok shrugs, looking smug. “I do. And I don’t like it when it goes cold.”

He gives her a tight-lipped smile that seems to be mostly sarcastic, and he waits. That’s when Jina realizes that she has to react, but her brain is still catching up slowly.

“That’s uh…” She looks to the side, confused gaze falling on the wall. It takes her a few more seconds to look back at him. “That’s surprisingly nice of you.”

“It would be nice of you too not to let my pizza get cold,” Hoseok says and steps closer when Jina pushes the covers off of her. “Do you need help getting up?”

“Don’t you have yourself to worry over?” Jina asks and lets her legs off the bed. They barely touch the floor.

“If you look in the mirror you’ll realize just how fucked up you look compared to me,” Hoseok says, careful eyes planted on her as she tries to push herself off the bed. “And I look pretty fucked up.”

Jina looks at him with visible annoyance. “I don’t know if you meant to offend me or not, but I’m offended.”

“I literally don’t give a fuck. Just don’t let my pizza get cold.”

With a roll of her eyes, Jina plants her feet on the ground. It stings for a few seconds when she puts too much pressure on the side hurts so she leans to the other side, and gravity doesn’t seem to be on her side when she loses her balance.

This time, she doesn’t look up at Hoseok when he pulls her up straight, unlike this morning. She keeps her gaze away when a hand stays firm around her bicep whilst the other settle on her shoulder. Mainly it’s because she feels the way her face heats up in embarrassment, but she also finds it overwhelming to look at Hoseok so closely.

Even though his features might seem sharp, there is something to them that makes Jina wanna keep staring when his lips pull back and his eyes soften. Seeing such a thing multiple times in under twenty-four hours is craving the picture even more in her brain, making her want to look more and even trace them with her fingers, and that makes her face heat up even more.

“I thought you didn’t want help getting up,” Hoseok says, teasing.

“And I thought you said I looked more fucked up than you do.”

“Please,” He scoffs, rolling his eyes. The hand on her shoulder falls, but the one on her bicep stays just as firm. “You always have something to say. It’s tiring.”

“Sucks to be you, I guess.” Jina limps forwards, nudging him away when he tries to throw her arm over his shoulder for support. “You’re still fucking wounded. Take it easy before you hurt yourself even more. I can manage.”

Hoseok clicks his tongue on the roof of his mouth and gives her a look of annoyance, but continues to walk by her side nonetheless just in case.

Outside, two pizza boxes are on top of each other on the coffee table. The curtains are drawn open and the warm sunlight makes Jina let out a little breath of relief.

Relief of what, though? That she is still oblivious to.

“Do you want to drink something?” Jina asks, seeing Hoseok go to the couch while she goes in the direction of the kitchen. “I have sujo. There is peach and grape fla—“

“I can’t believe I have to remind you but neither of us is supposed to drink alcohol for the time being,” Hoseok says, and Jina turns around to look at him. He sits down on the couch and raises an eyebrow, a look of disbelief quickly flying to his face. “Which brings me to last night, because what the fuck, Jina? A whole fucking bottle of tequila?”

“I had a bad day,” Jina waves a dismissive hand with a roll of her eyes. “You could’ve just told me to get water without throwing a tantrum.”

“I’m not—“ Jina hears him from the kitchen. She grabs a couple of bottles, and Hoseok lets out a sigh from outside. “I’m not even gonna try.”

“Exactly,” She gives him a nod and limps to where he is sitting. She puts the bottles on the table, then she stops moving.

Jina gives a look to the closed tv in front of them, and she pulls down her sleeve discreetly to play with the ends of it behind her back.

“Do you…” Jina looks back at Hoseok briefly, then she returns her gaze to the tv. She gestures to it with a hand that she brings to her earlobe afterward.“Do you wanna watch something while we eat?”

“Sure,” Hoseok nods nonchalantly and moves to put the box on top to the table, opening each of them carefully.

Jina grabs the remote from the table and walks around it to get to the couch, putting her hand on the backrest for support as she lowers herself down next to Hoseok with a heavy sigh.

The smell of the pizzas in front of her is very hard to ignore. She turns on the TV when Hoseok leans down to earn himself a couple of sniffs, then he leans back up with a pleased hum.

Jina looks for a movie, but her mouth is already watering and she realizes just how hungry she’s been all along. She settles on some studio ghibli movie and presses play. It’s quiet for a few seconds, and her stomach decides that it is a good time to groan out vociferously.

Music fills the living room only seconds later but Jina she stays frozen, eyes planted forwards and hand still directed towards the tv. Then, a light chuckle erupts from beside her.

Jina blinks away from the tv and wraps a hand around her growling stomach. Looking beside her, she finds Hoseok’s hand stretched out towards her with a slice in his hand.

“Thanks,” Jina mumbles, cheeks flushed in embarrassment. She doesn’t think they ever returned to their normal color since she woke up.

Hoseok hums in response and they both lean back into the couch. The distance between them feels a little awkward, but they both seem to ignore the buzz in the air to focus on the movie playing instead.

Jina is engulfed in the plot for a considerable amount of minutes, but every time Hoseok notices that she finished her slice and hands her another one, she grows more and more distracted.

Hoseok is taking care of her. He’s making sure she eats, got her medicine and an ice pack, and he even drove in the wee hours of the night to make sure she was safe. And Jina still doesn’t get it.

He was so gentle with her in the morning too, just like he was after she was attacked, like the night she got too drunk to function. He took care of her then, too, and Jina doesn’t fucking get it.

She painted such an ugly picture for him in her head when they first met, and she doesn’t understand why he isn’t acting like it. She doesn’t understand why he’s doing things like this, things that make her stomach tingle in all the wrong, wrong ways.

Jina still feels a ping of guilt for not visiting him, even after his reassurance.

She looks to the side, eyes falling on Hoseok. He takes a generous bite of his slice with focused eyes planted on the tv, following the movement of a character.

He looks more comfortable than a few minutes ago. With his ankles crossed under the coffee table, he leans on the armrest and munches away on his food, eyes twinkling with every bright flash coming from the screen in front of them.

Jina drops her gaze to the half-eaten slice in her hand, the ping of guilt feeling more like a nudge now, then she looks back up to him.

“I’m sorry.”

 

It takes Hoseok a couple of seconds to fully comprehend what he just heard. He frowns a little and stops chewing on his food, slowly turning his head to the side.

There is an unreadable expression on Jina’s face as they stare at each other. They’re both quiet for a few seconds, the sound from the movie becoming background noise to their thoughts.

“What?” Hoseok asks, even though he knows what she’s apologizing for.

“I’m sorry I didn’t come to see you,” Jina’s voice is calm. Her gaze is soft and she doesn’t try to look away. She’s sincere. “I don’t even have a reasonable excuse. It was a shitty move from me. I’m sorry.”

Hoseok didn’t need a reasonable excuse to forgive her this morning. Even though what she told him sounded reasonable enough to his ears.

“And… and for causing all of this…” She trails off, gesturing to him, eyes falling to where his wound is for a couple of seconds before she looks up at him again. “I’m sorry.”

“You do realize that I’m the one that should be apologizing, don’t you?”

Jina falls quiet, lips pursing in the slightest of pouts. She blinks a couple of times, her shoulders slumping.

“I’m the one that pulled you into all this shit,” Hoseok licks his lips, sucking as much of a deep breath as he can. “It’s my fault all of this is happening to you. I genuinely don’t want to hear you apologize again.”

It’s his first time voicing this out, and it feels worse to admit it out loud. Especially to her.

“If you didn’t insist on coming with me I wouldn’t have been here to help you. He would’ve done what he came here to do and took your body to some nameless cemetery with a nameless tomb and no one would’ve found you. I don’t regret coming, Jina. Nor getting stabbed. I never blamed you for it.”

Hoseok sees her eyes glint, and his chest clenches just a little bit.

“I would’ve done it again if time were to turn back.” Hoseok nods, mostly to himself as he realizes that he really would’ve. “I pulled you into this. It’s a priority to keep you safe until it’s done.”

Jina nods and looks away, even though she looks like she doesn’t fully believe him. She brings her slice to her mouth and she takes a bite, glinting eyes moving back to the movie playing.

Hoseok lets off a sigh and returns his eyes to the screen again. The sun is starting to set outside. The sky is a beautiful mixture of orange, purple, and pink, Hoseok is glad he opened up the curtains to see it all from where he sits.

“There’s something I think you should know,” Jina starts again, and he turns to her. The bite remaining of her slice is still grasped in her hand as she lowers it to her lap. She keeps her eyes forwards for a couple more seconds. When she turns to him again, her eyes aren’t teary anymore. “The night i...crashed your meeting in the club. I was supposed to be going home with someone else for uh… things.”

Hoseok’s face stays blank and he blinks. He tilts his head to the side. “Why should I know that you were gonna have a one-night stand?”

“It was Changmin,” Jina tells him. “He tried to take me… home with him.”

Hoseok stills.

“What?”

“I thought I was hallucinating,” Jina says heavily. She swallows, pushing a strand of hair out of her face with her pinky, and looks away. “I thought my brain was just making shit up because…” She pauses, briefly giving him a knowing look. “Well, a lot was going on.”

Hoseok still remembers the way she failed to recognize him for way too long for him not to worry.

“But I confirmed it when I saw him afterward.”

For a few seconds of silence, he fails to know what to do with the newly found information. Jina seems to still too, watching Hoseok with careful, alert eyes.

Changmin was in one of his clubs, roaming freely and doing god knows what. That could mean a lot of things, one of them being that whoever the bastard is reached deep. Way too deep for Hoseok’s liking.

Not just anyone can enter, especially the clubs under Jimin’s name. They’re elite. Expensive. Only those on special lists have granted entry.

Could they have known about the deal they sealed that night? The new clients? If not, then Jina was followed all the way there, was probably seen leaving with him too.

Neither situation is good. If Jina was seen with him and the word spread, then Jina’s position is worse than Hoseok thought. Especially if they were seen by the club because that wouldn’t be for publicity’s sake. Not like the times he gets someone on his arm to show off for the world.

Jimin went through so much trouble when he was first seen with Yoongi. Even before anything happened between them. Whatever interests them is an object of leverage to the scared rats trying to make themselves known underground.

It wasn’t nice. It was messy and risky, to Yoongi more than others, until he managed to send a message clear that Jimin is not to be touched, and was backed up when people started seeing just how dangerous Jimin himself could be.

Because he had nothing, back then. He had nothing on the line to risk nor protect, and he went all out. He made himself untouchable.

Jimin and Jina have a lot in common, don’t they?

“What happened?” Hoseok’s eyes are sharp now. The softness Jina likes in them is long gone. “That night, I mean.”

Jina’s face heats up in embarrassment again. She looks away and clears her throat, pulling her sleeve down. She gives Hoseok a casual shrug. “He just approached me, nothing unusual. He didn’t even seem suspicious.”

“Did you tell anyone else about this?”

The detective pauses, eyes flickering to the ceiling in thought before she gives him a shake of her head.

Hoseok leans towards her, eyebrows furrowing. “No one?”

“I didn’t…. I didn’t think it was useful,” Jina lets out tentatively. She licks her lips, watching Hoseok lean back in his seat again, a hand on his forehead. “What?”

“Jesus Christ,” Hoseok sighs, closing his eyes for a couple of seconds.

“What?!”

Hoseok leans to grab his phone from the coffee table with a little grimace. “Why didn’t you tell anyone, Jina…” It comes out as a mumble, Jina barely hears it. Hoseok gets up from his seat sternly and pulls the phone to his ear after pressing on Yoongi’s contact name, his ego slightly hurt by the action after being scolded for thirty minutes straight earlier this morning. “For fuck’s sake.”

Kept telling him oh how reckless and dumb he is for driving in his condition. That he should’ve woken him up instead. They can’t risk him being even more hurt.

“And for what? Her?” Yoongi had said. “What if there really was someone there? What the fuck would you have done?!”

It keeps ringing, and Hoseok bites the inside of his cheek in anticipation. Hoseok starts to think that Yoongi is going to ignore him on purpose, just out of spite for pissing him off. He almost hangs up, until he hears a click from the other side of the phone.

“What?!”

“Don’t get your fucking panties in a twist—”

“Didn’t you say you didn’t wanna talk to me today?”

“Yoongi,” Hoseok turns his back to Jina and sighs, his hand raising to his forehead again. “This is urgent.”

“It better fucking be,” Yoongi grumbles out, and Hoseok hears a creek behind him.

Throwing a look, he jumps a bit when he sees Jina right behind him.

“Ahn Changmin was in Ji—” Hoseok cuts himself off, eyes falling on Jina. She’s looking at him with big, alarmed eyes. “He was in… Lussuria the night Jina crashed our meeting there. He tried to seduce her into going home with him.”

It’s silent for a couple of seconds. “What?”

“She just told me.” Hoseok steps away and looks to the side, unable to look Jina in the eyes anymore. “I need the list of guests for that night. And the bodyguards on duty.”

“Why the fuck didn’t she mention this before?!”

“She didn't think it was useful,” Hoseok sighs, closing his eyes briefly. Yoongi curses under his breath, and Hoseok hears shuffling in the background. “This means a whole load of shit, Yoongi.”

“Yeah. Yeah it does.” Yoongi’s voice is void of emotion, Hoseok doesn’t like that. “I’ll tell Jimin. I’ll call you back when I have anything.”

“How…” Hoseok looks back at Jina again, finds her leaning back on the hand rest of the sofa, an arm limp between her thighs while the other runs through her hair. “How is he, by the way?”

“Did he tell you?”

“Yeah,” Hoseok steps away, trying to put as much distance between them just in case. “He wasn’t doing well.”

“He still isn’t,” Yoongi grumbles out, voice low and disappointed. “Hasn’t spoken a word to me all day. Kept himself locked up in our room again.” Hoseok goes into the kitchen, lowering the volume of his phone while Yoongi goes on. “Did Jina mention anything?”

“I don’t think she remembers,” Hoseok sighs. The sun is already setting outside. The clouds are cramped up in the sky. It might rain. “She’s barely functioning. I doubt her alcohol-filled memory would work so well.”

“Yeah, well, that’s good. We can’t handle more drama on our hands for now.”

“I’ll come see Jimin when I can,” Hoseok says.

“You better fucking go get your stitches removed tomorrow,” Yoongi says through gritted teeth, voice harsh through the static. “Call Taehyung to drive you home. Don’t fucking drive again, you hear?”

“I’m fine, Yoongi. Jesus fucking Christ.”

“I don’t give a shit. I’ll call Taehyung myself. He’ll pick you up in a couple of hours. I’ll meet you there.”

“You really should stay with Jimin.” Hoseok lowers his voice, looking at the kitchen doorway cautiously. “I’ll be fine. He needs you more than I do right now.”

“Fine. Go sleepover at Seokjin’s, then.”

“No,” Hoseok lets out right away. “He’ll lock me up in there. I’ll have a mental breakdown I swear to god—”

“Well, I’m not gonna leave you alone. Compromise. Find something.” Yoongi tells him, and Hoseok can imagine him flailing his arms around. The younger starts to walk out of the kitchen.“Call Jungkook or Taehyung. See who’s sleeping over at whose house and go stay with them or ask them to come over.”

Hoseok’s eyes fall on Jina. She’s still in her place, now both arms between her thighs, and her head snaps up when he appears.

“They’ll end up fucking and I am already insomniac as it is. Pieces of shit think they’re discreet.” Hoseok says into the phone, and Yoongi groans. He licks his lips, looking away from Jina and out of the window to his side. “I’ll sleep here tonight. I’ll bring her with me tomorrow to the penthouse.”

“Are you dumb?”

“Yoongi…”

“No, are you? She can barely take care of herself. You think she can take care of you? You think she would?”

“Trust me, Hyung. She needs more care than I do. I look and probably feel way better than she does.” Hoseok turns completely to the side, keeping his voice low so Jina doesn’t hear. “I will stay with her then bring her to her mom tomorrow. I don’t think she should be left alone.”

“I can’t fucking believe you.”

“Sorry to disappoint.” Hoseok mumbles with a roll of his eyes. Yoongi really isn't having any of it. “Call me once you have anything.”

Hoseok doesn’t wait for Yoongi to reply before he removes his phone from his ear. With hands running down his face, he approaches Jina who is still frozen by the sofa and tries to deliver what he has in mind in the nicest way possible.

He settles a couple of feet away from her, gathering his hands under his chin as if he’s going to beg. “Next time, if anything happens, anything as small as a fuckings sneeze, I need to know of it.”

“But what difference would it have made?” Jina shoots back, seemingly a little defensive. “He was coming for me either way. It didn’t matter where.”

“No, Jina. It matters.” Hoseok tells her, unthinkably closing the distance between them a little. “That's my club. My family’s club, the whole fucking world knows that it’s pretty exclusive. Not just anyone can enter and the fact that a scumbag like him did means that a whole lot of shit is thrown over my shoulders.” He’s biting down on his jaw, hard, with sharp eyes. Jina leans back almost unnoticeably. He lets out through gritted teeth. “Like I needed any more of that.”

Jina stays quiet. He knows she’s defeated when she doesn’t have something to say, and the woman has a lot to fucking say to everything.

But he thought too soon.

“I’ve never been in a gang before. I didn’t know I was supposed to do that, sue me.”

“Jina, for the love of God,” Hoseok balls his hands into fists, raising them up a little. He sounds a little too desperate for his own liking. “It’s not like I'll skin you alive. You made a mistake and there is that. You don't have to salt the fucking wound.”

This time, Jina stays quiet. She frowns, blinking away from his gaze. She crosses her arms across her chest and Hoseok keeps his eyes on her, trying to look for another reaction that might erupt from her any moment.

Before that happens, and Hoseok doubts it would, he steps back. “I’m staying over tonight and I’ll take you to your mom first thing. Not up for debate.”

“I’m not a child—“

“I’m not gonna leave you alone when you’re a cough away from corrupting.” Hoseok’s head started to hurt. He runs a hand in his hair and turns around. “I’ll go change my bandage. Wait for me, don’t clean up on your own.”

 

Jina watches his back after he grabs a plastic back from a nearby counter, and as he disappears in the hallway. Soon, she hears the bathroom door open, then closes only seconds afterward, and she’s left alone to dwell on the spilled milk.

Maybe it was dumb of Jina not to mention something like this. Maybe.

But come on… She went through hell and back in a single fucking week. How was she supposed to focus enough to take care of such a detail? She barely even had any memory of Changmin until she saw his face again when he attacked her.

But okay, fine. She should’ve told somebody. Being defensive is a reflex of hers, she couldn’t help but mumble out whatever came to mind when Hoseok was scolding her.

Jina lets out a loud huff, throwing her head back.

It’ll get too dark outside soon, so Jina pushes herself off of the hand rest. She limps to the light switch and turns the light on, then proceeds to do the same in the hallway. The light makes her feel a little at ease as she looks back at the living room, eyes falling on the little mess she and Hoseok made on the coffee table.

He told her not to clean up on her own, but she already feels like shit as it is for him having to stay with her with a fucking hole on his abdomen. She tries to move slow, trying to breathe in and out as Seonghwa had instructed.

It’s hard either way, so Jina tries not to dwell on it when she feels a strike of pain as she carefully bends down to close the pizza boxes. She pauses the movie that was still playing and throws the remote on the sofa, before proceeding to carry the pizza, along with the water bottles she previously brought, to the kitchen.

There, Jina leans against the counter with an exhausted exhale of breath. She’s still sleepy, she feels it when she lets her eyes flutter shut. Her limbs are a little loose and her eyes still hurt, and maybe her little meal made her feel heavier than she already was.

Jina opens the freezer, eyes immediately falling on the blue ice pack Hoseok left for her. She grabs it, fingers hurting a little at the temperature, but she closes the freezer and walks out of the kitchen. She could try to nap for now. It’s not like she has anything else to do, and she already ruined Hoseok’s mood.

An ailed frown wrinkles between her eyebrows as she leans on the wall in the hallway. A significantly strong ping sounds in her body, tells her that she needs to lay down. She stops for a second, unable to stop the breathy moan that flees out of her mouth.

“Fuck,” a muffled groan meets her ears, and Jina turns to look at the closed bathroom door.

She waits for a few seconds, straightening up from her previously slightly hunched position with her eyes plastered to the door. It all falls quiet for some time, then another groan can be heard, this time louder.

“Hoseok?” Jina reaches for the door, giving it a light knock. “Are you okay in there?”

“I’m fine,” Hoseok grumbles out.

Jina frowns a little. “Alright.”

Still, she only walks a few steps to her room and waits again. Something falls inside only seconds later and she grows more alert, going back to her previous place in front of the closed door.

“Are you sure?”

“No, no I'm not.”

“Do you want help?”

In response, the door unlocks instead. Jina still waits, and Hoseok lets out another groan before the door opens.

And he stands there, a bandage in one hand, and an ointment in another.

Oh, he’s also shirtless.

“The bandages keep wrinkling,” Hoseok looks down at the new bandage in his hand, then points to the thin pile of what must be ruined bandages.

When he looks up again, Jina’s cheeks are slightly flushed. She stays quiet for short moments, physically unable to look anywhere else but his eyes.

“Do you… want me to do it?”

It’s like the whole situation suddenly dawned on him, Hoseok freezes. He licks his lips, looking down at himself then back up at her, and he fights the urge to shiver under her gaze.

He really should’ve thought about this before opening the door.

It grows awkward, yet again, when he doesn’t reply.

“Can you?” Hoseok asks, his voice softer than he intended.

“Sure,” Jina replies with a nod, and she takes a step inside. Hoseok takes a step back as she does, trying to give them more space apart, but he soon realizes that it is inevitable.

Jina puts the ice pack in her hand on the counter, gently grabbing the bandage from his hand. She gives him a little smile, her own little attempt of lightening the mood and brushing away some of the awkwardness around them, even though Hoseok can see how physically tense she really is.

Hoseok appreciates it anyway because the little smile manages to distract him even for a few seconds, and he doesn’t pay attention to anything else until he hears the packaging of the new bandage ripping off.

Jina finally allows her eyes to look down at where his wound is, and one of her hands curl into a fist uncontrollably at the sight. She lets out a breath, a ragged one, and she uncontrollably blinks a couple of times before looking up at him.

Jina didn’t see the wound uncovered before. It… It looks… weird. Painful. Very fucking painful.

“You didn’t put enough ointment,” Jina clears her throat and grabs the little container from his hand.

“Oh,” It takes Hoseok a couple of seconds to take his eyes off of Jina after she speaks. He looks down at his wound, then Jina grabs his forearm for support as she slowly leans down in a squat that erupts a light moan out of her.

She makes sure not to hold onto him too hard. She screws the container open with her mouth and keeps the cap there, slowly letting go of Hoseok’s forearm, and she chuckles.

She fucking chuckles.

“What?”

“It’s kinda funny,” Jina lets out breathily after taking out the cap from between her teeth, a lazy smile stretched on her lips. She looks up at him from her position. “We’re both fucked up. It’s kinda funny how we keep trying to help each other when we’re both in so much pain.”

“It’s kinda sad, though,” Hoseok says, and Jina purses her lips.

“That’s why it’s funny,” She looks down and puts some of the ointment on her index finger, raising her head to look at the wound again.

Jina tries not to look away from it. It looks raw and uncomortable, and the red skin around it even looks irritating.

“I’m gonna apply it now,” Jina warns.

“Okay,” Hoseok’s voice is just above a whisper, and he still can’t take his eyes off of her when he feels the coldness of the ointment on the damaged skin.

Jina’s touch is feather-like. She looks like she’s having trouble in her little task and Hoseok feels bad, but he doesn’t try to make her stop.

She almost loses her balance, but her other hand meets Hoseok’s already stretched one just in time to steady herself. She gives him a little smile of gratitude before returning her gaze down to his wound again.

“Here you go,” Jina says, finally pulling her hand away. She looks down on the bandage she previously abandoned on her thigh and flails it up and down until the packaging falls off of it, failing to remember that she has another hand.

Another hand that is still held within Hoseok’s, one that he is very, very aware of.

When Jina thoughtlessly lets go of him to start putting the bandage on, it looks like Hoseok is the only one aware of the coldness that seeps through the skin of his now empty hand.

“Stay still,” She tells him in a tone that seems to be soothing to Hoseok’s ears. A tone in a perfect volume that is not loud, not too low, breathy and unfocused, even. A tone he, apparently, wants to hear more of.

Jina manages to apply the bandage perfectly, but Hoseok still isn’t so focused on that.

He’s too busy examining the features that look up and smile at him when she was done. There is still a faint pink color that is almost unnoticeable in her cheeks, and even with the bruises and scratches all over her face, Hoseok thinks she’s absolutely captivating.

“There we go,” Jina is still smiling.

Hoseok opens his hand for her to take again before he could think about it. She grasps it, reaching for Hoseok’s other forearm, and he helps her up to her feet again. She moans and her face scrunches up in a pained expression, but once she settles, her body visibly relaxes.

“Thank you.” They say simultaneously.

There is a split second of silence before a little smile breaks on Hoseok’s lips when Jina chuckles again. He lets go of her hand when her grip starts loosening on his forearm, yet again accepting the coldness that meets his warmed skin.

Jina tries not to let her eyes wander as they wish, keeping them on his face as she speaks. “Do you want something else to wear? I think I have a few things that can fit you.”

Hoseok nods. “Yeah, okay.”

“Okay,” Jina grabs her ice pack and turns around. “Follow me.”

Not even a second later, Jina uncontrollably tumbles forwards with a gasp, and Hoseok’s hands reach out to her just on time. Again.

He’s never seen someone so clumsy.

Hoseok pulls her to his chest, hands firm on her waist. The pair let out a series of whimpers and moans, but they stay still. Jina looks down to see what she tripped on, only to find the ointment container she had abandoned on the floor not so long ago.

“Damn it,” Jina balls her hands into fists, trying to regain her lost breath.

She looks behind her, but they’re so close.

They’re so close that she sees the mole on his top lip and the curl of his lashes. She’s previously opened her mouth to ask if he was okay if she hurt him, but it stays open with nothing but silence coming out of it.

Hoseok’s lips, too, part open ever so slightly, and he still can’t stop staring. His blinks are slow and almost dazed, and he swallows. His chest is full of oxygen but he holds it in, forgetting that he has to breathe out when all his focus falls on the person in his arms.

He can’t help but notice how she melts ever so slightly in his grip. Her lips fall closed slowly, and the action makes Hoseok unthinkably shift his gaze to them.

And they’re… They look irresistible. Like a magnet… no, gravity. It pulls him in and he has trouble focusing on anything else except for the way they part open just a little, and the way her breath hitches in her throat.

He blinks up, and her eyes don't do him any help to break him out of his daze.

Fuck, this is wrong. This is fucking wrong.

“Are you okay?” Jina manages to let out, but her voice breaks, lowering even more.

That doesn’t help either.

Hoseok lets his breath go gradually, having to physically force his head in another direction, and he nods. His grip slackens around her and she doesn’t move right away, but he speaks when she does.

“Are you?”

“Yeah,” Jina swallows, looking away from him too. She pulls a hand up to her earlobe, her other hand curling up in a little fist. “I’ll… I’ll come to clean up later.”

“I can do it—”

“No, no,” She waves with her hands, eyes growing wider. “No, I’ll do it. Just leave it.”

Once she makes sure that he isn't going to bend down and grab it, Jina turns around. She throws a look over her shoulders at him as she walks out, then sharply pulls her head forward again.

It’s barely sundown, and it already feels like the longest day ever.

Hoseok finds the fact that he wishes time would stretch out somewhat concerning, but he decides to let go of that for now.

Notes:

head in hands i love them pls
LIKE I SAID, DON'T GET USED TO THIS. DONT SAY I DIDN'T TELL U SO
but yeah :) we're going back to the action in the next chapter, but Jina and Hoseok will definitely start being closer now. I guess this is something to look forward to, eh?
I'LL DO MY BEST TO HURRY UP NEXT TIME!! around 14 days? that should be enough to get a chapter ready :)
don't forget your feedback and kudos!! I always come back to reread them when im lacking motivation :')
THANK YOU FOR READING!! I'LL SEE YOU SOON<3

Chapter 11: undici

Summary:

There is knocking on the door, mixed voices begging him to unlock the door.

But he bends down in front of Jina, and he was so close. So fucking close that she couldn’t even breathe.

“Let’s show them just how sick I can be, okay, kitten?”

Notes:

HEWWOOOOO
everytime i say it’ll take me less it takes me more to update i 🏃🏻♀️
BUT!!! IM TRYING MY BEST OKAY 💀💀
hopefully once ramadan is over i’ll fix my sleep schedule and work better hhhehehehhe
ppreeettryyy suree you’ll like this chapter lol the rollercoaster only goes up from here for a while.
i forgot to mention earlier but TRIGGER WARNING! Mentions of child abuse are halfway through the chapter. it starts at “ All their little giggles and quiet chuckles soon turned into loud yells and whimpers” and ends at “ From this day onward, Jina had a bad relationship with darkness.”
for those of u who comment, im genuinely thankful🥺🥺 your feedback always makes me the happiest liddol writer alive<3
don’t forget to leave kodus and comments!! they keep my motivation going<3

The repetitive sound of droplets hitting the umbrella above his head slowly begins to irritate Namjoon. His footsteps splash dirty water everywhere, he feels the ends of his pants getting annoyingly wet.

 

It’s been going on like this since they started nearing the outskirts of Seoul. Raining like there is no tomorrow to the point that Namjoon was a little scared that it would break through the glass of his car and make him crash.

 

The air feels muted. He feels like his head is going to explode, and the sirens around him aren’t really being of help. 

 

Fuck, that car looks demolished.

 

“Ugh, I can smell it from here,” Yunho mutters from beside him. He has both hands buried in his pockets, the hood of his waterproof coat covering his head. “I think I’m gonna be sick.”

 

Namjoon smells it too. It gets worse with each step. “It’s not that bad. Get your shit together.”

 

Yunho lets out another disgusted whine but keeps his footsteps matched with Namjoon’s anyway. They grow nearer to the destroyed car and Namjoon almost gags before someone comes up to them.

 

“Sir,” The officer greets, bowing a little. He looks a bit pale in the face. “Officer Yang.”

 

Namjoon stretches a hand out, giving Officer Yang’s a firm shake before he turns to Yunho and does the same. Except Yunho had a little trouble getting his hand out of his pocket, but Namjoon decides that he will ignore that.

 

“It’s not doing very well, sir,” Officer Yang says, shoulders up to his ears from the cold.

 

“Yeah, I can smell that,” Namjoon remarks and walks around the officer, leaving Yunho to be soaked under the rainfall. Soon enough, he hears a yelp, and a body collides with him under the umbrella. “Yunho…”

 

“It’s already cold as it is!” Yunho firmly complains, eyes wide with desperation. His face got splashed with water already. “Don’t do that, hyung!”

 

“I feel like I brought my nephew on a fucking field trip.” Namjoon groans lowly through gritted teeth, hearing officer Yang’s footsteps catching up with them. He tries to yank his elbow away from Yunho, but the younger has a dang strong grasp. 

 

“We—We found him like that,” Officer Yang says, voice choked. The smell is almost unbearable now. Namjoon hears Yunho gag beside him. “It looks like he’s been out for a while.”

 

Baek Jonwoo is barely even recognizable anymore. He sits in the driver’s seat of his very, very unusable car, head thrown back on the headrest, wrists tied to the steering wheel. What’s revealed of his skin is blistered and so fucking red, and Namjoon swears he can see a thing or two moving on his face. 

 

The car is parked to the very right of a dark highway, the front two tires digging deep into the sand beyond the asphalt. 

 

He has to force his head away from the scene. “No apparent cause of death, I presume?”

 

Officer Yang shakes his head no. Maybe he can’t trust opening his mouth.

 

Yunho gags again, and Namjoon starts walking away from the car, pulling the younger with him. Officer Yang desperately follows, breathing loudly through his mouth.

 

They walk almost all the way back to his car before they halt. The nasty scent isn’t as prominent, but the air around them is at least a little bit more breathable. Namjoon sees the paramedics' car arrive as he faces Officer Yang again.

 

“Who found him?”

 

“Anonymous,” Officer Yang replies with a sigh. “The station received a report and we found the plate number compatible with the one you were looking for.”

 

Namjoon looks at Yunho, who nods at the officer with sharp eyes.

 

“Was it from a personal number?” Yunho asks.

 

Officer Yang shakes his head. “No. A private one.”

 

Namjoon sucks in a deep breath and fights the urge to roll his eyes. Of fucking course its a private number. He has a person or two in mind that could’ve done it.

 

At the thought, Namjoon hears another car pull up behind his own. He squints his eyes at the bright headlights as he tries to look back at the foregin car, until it’s turned off.

 

The passenger door opens, and a familiar figure appears from behind it shortly.

 

Namjoon’s eyes immediately fall to the driver, and he can’t stop it when his hands curl into fists, very slowly so. He bites down on his jaw and raises his chin up a little, locking his gaze with the driver he now recognizes.

 

Jung Hoseok’s gaze doesn’t waver either. He stares, calm and silent, but there is something in his eyes. He looks Namjoon up and down, taking his time as he drags his eyes down, then back up to his eyes. When their gazes lock once more, one corner of Hoseok’s lips pull back.  His eyes turn a little thinner and something smug and mischievous is delivered to Namjoon, who hears footsteps hurriedly nearing him.

 

“Oh, you came,” He hears Yunho say.

 

Hoseok shifts gears and Namjoon doesn’t give him the satisfaction of looking at him for more time than he deserves. He shifts his gaze down to the newcomer. 

 

The overdramatic engine of Hoseok’s car roars over Jina’s humm as he takes off again. She sends Namjoon a brief look with a slow intake of breath that seems to hurt her just a bit, then they both look away.

 

“What happened?” Jina looks back at Yunho.

 

“He’s decaying.” Yunho mumbles. His eyes are dawnguard and lips quiver in disgust. “It’s been at least a week.”

 

“I can smell that,” Jina coughs lightly, one hand curing in a fist while the other trails up to cover her mouth and nose.

 

Namjoon can see how taught her body is even under her padded rain coat that seems to be twice her size. Her face scrunches up in a grimace briefly, and Namjoon pushes his gaze away once more.

 

She’s in pain, so what? She betrayed him. He shouldn’t feel sympathy for someone like her.

 

Jina asks officer Yang to show her where Beak Jonwoo is, and the man looks like he would rather do anything else except for that, but he leads her defeatedly to the destroyed car.

 

Namjoon turns to Yunho. “You told her?”

 

Yunho frowns, squinting his eyes a little in confusion. “Yes?”

 

“I was very specific when i told you to tell Jongho,”  Namjoon gestures with his hand back to Jina, who still has her back to him. “Did i mention anything about her?”

 

“Why wouldn’t i tell her, though?” Yunho asks. “She’s the first person that should’ve known.”

 

Yunho is right, Namjoon knows he is right, but it still itches him somewhere he can’t reach to the point of irritation. 

 

Yunho frowns further, his confusion replaced with mild worry. “Is everything okay, hyung?”

 

Namjoon looks at him, quiet. He licks his lip and flexes his jaw.

 

No. Nothing is okay. Nothing is fucking okay and Jina betrayed him just like they did.

 

“It’s fine,” Namjoon finally waves a hand dismissively. A sigh manages to escape as he turns around to lean next to Yunho on the hood of his car, eyes falling on Jina again.

 

Her face looks pale almost ill, a deep frown between her wet eyebrows. The hood on her head slipped back a little, granting the heavy rain access to her face and few strands of her short hair. Namjoon has to fight the urge to reach there and adjust it on her head. 

 

She won’t even notice that it’s soaking her. She’ll stay pent up in her thoughts until someone points it out.

 

Something hits Namjoon in the chest but this isn’t the time to feel something, and it’s definitely not the time to dwell on his disappointment.

 

So he shifts his gaze to Officer Yang, opens his mouth to ask about something else, and hopes that Yunho fixes her hood for her.

EARLIER

The oversized hoodie Jina lended to Hoseok fit him perfectly. The shoulders were in place and it fell right at his torso.

 

They both try to act like nothing happened. Like they were never huddled together, too close that they feel each other’s breaths on their skin. Jina gives him the hoodie with a smile that looks too tight for her to be comfortable and just grabs her ice pack to start moving out of the room.

 

“Where are you going?” Hoseok asks, pulling the hoodie down his body.

 

“I’ll go…” Jina points behind her with her thumb, standing sideways. She’s blinking too much, barely making eye contact. “I’ll just go take a nap. I’m tired.”

 

“You should take a nap here, then.” Hoseok moves towards her, gesturing to her bed. “I’ll be outside.”

 

“No, it’s okay. I’ll just go to my mom’s room. You can stay here if you want,” Jina reassures him, her words more airy than they were just a second ago. “You need to rest too. I doubt you were able to get any sleep this morning.”

 

For some reason, Hoseok doesn’t reply right away. Her voice lowered at the last sentence and her eyes jumped from one object to another, only briefly meeting Hoseok’s eyes. Embarrassment of this morning’s events is very clear on her taught expression.

 

“I don’t sleep much anyway,” Hoseok shrugs, shoving his hands in hoodie’s pocket. “It wasn’t your fault. Don’t worry about it.”

 

His words don't make her feel better. She nods, the little nod she does when she’s unconvinced and just wants the conversation to fall.

 

“Stay in your roo--”

 

“No, please, just…” Jina frowns, but it’s not angry. It’s not annoyed nor irked, leaning more on the desperate side. “Stay here. Try to sleep for a bit. I already feel bad about you being here as it is.”

 

It takes Hoseok a couple of seconds, but he nods.

 

Jina nods too, this time quicker and more persistent, and she starts to move to the door. She tries to hide her limp once more, but Hoseok still hears her little moan when she tries to move too quickly.

 

She shuts the door behind her, and all that is left is the sound of Hoseok’s breathing.

 

The lights in Jina’s room are warm, just like everything else in there. They’re dim and calming, the branch of fairy lights giving off a good illumination that it could still keep the area lit if he turns off the lights. It wraps around a full length mirror prettily, and Hoseok finds his previously tense shoulders slumping.

 

There’s a couple of pictures stuck to the edges of the mirror. One bigger than the other, and they’re old. Hoseok walks towards it steadily, curiosity moving him absentmindedly, but it only results in his shoulders tensing again.

 

The bigger picture had three people in it.

 

Kang Daeun sits on the grass, it looks like it was a sunny day. A girl is sitting in her lap, two pigtails and a cute fringe falling on her crescent eyes, with a smile brighter than the sun itself. She has her hands clapped in front of her happily, with Daeun’s secure arm wrapped around her middle.

 

Daeun’s other hand is raised, palm cupping a boy’s face. He couldn't have been older than 12. He stands next to Daeun, arms tightly wrapped around her neck as she laughs. His face is pressed against hers, and Hoseok hates just how much familiarity he finds in the boy’s face.

He doesn’t think he ever saw Jimin’s smile so big.

 

The three of them looked happy. Genuinely happy.

 

The other picture is more recent. They look older, Jimin looks more like himself now. 

 

Something tugs at Hoseok’s chest.

 

It looks like they didn’t know the picture was being taken, or it was taken too early for them to pose properly.

 

Jina’s eyes are in pretty crescents again. She’s on Jimin’s back,  arms loose around his neck with his hands secure on her thighs. She’s looking at him and he’s laughing, looking to the side, dark hair messy on his eyes. They’re standing in some sort of backyard, but the sky seems gloomier than the other picture. Looks muted, like it was about to pour.

 

But something is unusual in this picture. Hoseok frowns, stepping closer to take a better look at Jina, and his eyes grow sharper.

 

He doesn’t know if it’s just the lighting, but the side of Jina’s face looks darker than it’s supposed to be. Shaded, like she was playing in the dirt and got it all over her face, but it doesn’t look that transparent for it to be dirt. 

 

It looks like a bruise. Barely there, but apparent enough for the camera to capture.

 

Jimin always avoided talking about his family, especially his father. Sometimes Yoongi would tell Hoseok how nicely he would talk about his mother and sister, how he would stare into nothingness with a pained, nostalgic smile on his face, and how it washes away once his father was mentioned. His face would turn bitter and his tone would drip with venom as he expresses just how much he wants to slit the man’s throat and watch him drown in his own blood.

 

Jimin left against his will, he told Hoseok that long ago. He said he has to protect his family, that his presence only puts them in more danger than prevent it, and what he told Hoseok the night before makes him put two and two together.

 

Hoseok raises a hand to brush it through his hair, huffing out in newly found frustration. He nibbles on his lower lip and moves away from the mirror. If he looks at the picture one more time he will connect even more dots together, dot’s he shouldn’t be aware of.

 

Dots that will make him feel even more sympathetic, and Hoseok knows that what he feels is already enough for the situation to be messy.

 

He drops himself on the bed with his hands still in his hair, and he stares at the ceiling.

 

He really shouldn’t be left alone with his thoughts.

Jina doesn’t fall asleep for some time. She lays in the comfort of her mother’s bed, covering only one half of her upper body as she leaves the icepack on her bruised rib for pain relief. She stares at the ceiling, eyes wide and unfocused.

 

Too much. This day is too much. She can barely keep up with her own head.

 

Her head keeps playing the whole situation over and over again in her brain like a broken record. She rereads his features, sees them as clear as day, and she gets lost every fucking time. The calmness of his gaze. His hands on her waist, firm but gentle. 

 

The way his eyes dropped down, the look in his eyes then. Jina didn’t even notice how she melted under his touch. All she could focus on was how close Hoseok was. How she wanted to lean further into him, how she almost chased after his lips when he looked away.

 

Jina’s chest rises and falls quickly, and she can’t feel the pain the movement produces for some time as she stays stuck in her own head. Tingles ignite on the skin of her cheeks and down to her neck, and she feels her face heat up.

 

The fucking look in his eyes.

 

Jina raises her palms up to her flaming cheeks and covers her eyes. “Fuck.”

 

This really shouldn’t be happening, but it very much is and Jina is way more aware of it than she wants to be. The scene still lingers beyond her closed eyelids and repeats again, and Jina has no damn idea how to cut it short before her heart starts beating way too quickly for her liking again.

 

Jina thought she would have much more control over herself in shit like this, but she is shamefully wrong and it is hard not to admit it.

 

Jina kept her eyes on his. She didn’t let them roam anywhere else because she knew she would be in trouble with herself if she does, but looking into his eyes was much, much worse.

 

They looked hooded. Lazy but alert and focused, and it’s not challenging. Unlike all the times they were both so persistent on never breaking eye contact, this time was natural. No tension or awkwardness buzzing in the air around them, pushing them to suffocation.

 

But this time was suffocating too. It was silent and still, and they both stopped breathing at some point. All Jina could focus on was the fingers on her waist and the eyes she’s so lost in, and she gladly let herself suffocate.

 

Everything became so much worse when he blinked down to her lips, and Jina gets deja vu from the first day they met.

 

Except that this time wasn’t teasing, wasn’t provoking. It was luring, like a siren calling out her name. 

 

“Fuck!” Jina lets out louder. 

 

She immediately claps her hands on top of her mouth and snaps her eyes to the closed door of her mother’s room. She stays quiet, only hoping that she wasn’t loud enough for her voice to penetrate the wall separating them.

 

When Jina is sure Hoseok didn’t hear her, she grabs a nearby pillow and pushes it on top of her head. She has to sleep, that would make time pass by quicker. She needs to be as far away from him as she can for the time being, at least until she gets rid of her malfunctioning thoughts.

 

Jina puts a hand on her ice pack while the other remains gripping on the pillow over her head, and she tries to do the breathing exercises her old therapist gave her to help her fall asleep. Although they hurt, she manages to bring her heartbeat back to a normal rate, and her body starts to gradually relax.

 

Anxiety starts to tickle in her gut, pushing her into alertness again, but Hoseok’s here.

 

Hoseok’s here. He has people looking out for her outside. She’s safe. Nothing will happen.

 

When did she start feeling like this? Like he’s no longer a threat?

 

The questions are left unanswered, hanging loosely in the air.

 

He’s here. She can fall asleep.

There was this day, Jina still remembers so vividly that it hurts.

 

She was so young, barely seven. A dark school night. She was so excited for the next day, Jimin always got her candy behind their parents’ back on their way to school. 

 

The three of them were cleaning up after dinner. They stayed past Jina’s bedtime so they were in a hurry to get things done quickly so she can have enough sleep, but he came home earlier than he should’ve.

 

All their little giggles and quiet chuckles soon turned into loud yells and whimpers, and Jina remembers Daeun and Jimin standing between her and her father. She didn’t pick up what made him so angry at first, but she had already gotten used to him being in such a state.

 

“She’s the reason we’re like this!” His voice echoed. His eyes were so wide as he stared at Daeun. “Do you like this fucking hell hole we’re living in? Do you?!”

 

“It’s not her fault!” Daeun screamed, a hand behind her back, bracing Jina. “You can’t keep pouring all of your problems on a child!”

 

“This child…” He stepped closer to Daeun. He raised a hand, almost touching her jaw. “She took everything away from me.” He groans through gritted teeth. “She took my fucking money, made me sell all i fucking had to raise her!”

 

“Your money?” Daeun snickers humorlessly, and Jimin steps back, a hand secretly stretched out to Jina. “What money are you talking about? The one I gave you? The one you go bet on every fucking night untill you made us sell everything?” Daeun points an accusing finger at her husband. “How can you be so damn delusional?!”

 

“She took you from me!” He screams, and it makes Jina flinch. Jimin looks back at her, eyes wide. “They both fucking did!”

 

“You’re sick,” Daeun spits out, the look of disgust never leaving her face.

 

And it falls quiet for a few seconds. Jimin’s hand tightens around Jina’s and Daeun stays where she is, feet planted to the floor.

 

A breathy chuckle rocks his otherwise frozen body ever so slightly, eyes wide and… and scary. He keeps staring at Daeun, his little smile widening. 

 

“Sick?” He asks, stepping closer. His gaze drops to Jina, and she steps back, accidentally pulling Jimin with her. He looks back up to Daeun, whose breath falterns, scarcely so. “Sick, huh?”

 

He nudges Daeun to the side when she tries to reach for her daughter again. Jimin pulls Jina back and only begins to run to the front door, hand tight around his sister’s, before his father grabs him by the forearm to shove him to the side. He collides with a table nearby, and Jina is left alone in the middle of the living room.

 

But Daeun is quick on her feet again. She wraps her arms around one of his and she tries to pull him to the side. “Don’t you dare.”

 

Wordlessly, he pushes her to the side again with a grunt, and this time she falls completely to the ground. He directs his gaze down to Jina once more, and she tries to move back. 

 

Her attempts were always in vain, she doesn’t know why she never stopped. 

 

He reaches for her hair easily. Even through her protest, kicking and screaming for him to let go of her, it does little to no change in his actions. He drags her to hers and Jimin’s shared room, and to her horror, he enters and locks the door after them.

 

Jina was like a ragdoll in his hands, so fragile, so little that even when she tries to claw at his skin, he is barely affected. He pushes, or more like throws her against the wood of their wardrobe, and Jina still remembers how the knob hitting her back sent something akin to electricity throughout her whole body.

 

His eyes were always so dead. His pupils were dilated and red veins danced in the whiteness within, and he looked like a monster.

 

He was a monster.

 

He pants a little, and Jina curls on herself, eyes wide and teary as she watches every jerk of his hand. He puts it on the lightswitch and turns it off, then it is completely dark.

 

Jina’s eyes grew wider. She can hear his breath, can hear his nearing footsteps, but she sees nothing.

 

There is knocking on the door, mixed voices begging him to unlock the door.

 

But he bends down in front of Jina, and he was so close. So fucking close that she couldn’t even breathe.

 

“Let’s show them just how sick i can be, okay, kitten?”

From this day onward, Jina had a bad relationship with darkness. Jimin would tell Daeun how Jina would climb in bed with him, grab him like there is no tomorrow every night. Little Jina would tell him, all in hushed whispers that ‘he’s right there.’  That he’s gonna get her again, that Jimin needs to stay with her because she’s convinced he’s going to come and hurt her again.

 

The more it happened, the worse she got. And her father took a liking in keeping her all locked up in a dark room after showing her little body no mercy whatsoever.

 

So, Instead of turning the lights off completely, it became a rule to keep it dim instead even though their father was quick to notice the little attempt to make Jina feel better. 

 

This specific thing remained with her like an itch she can’t scratch, even long after she went through therapy.

 

Sometimes it would slip up from them, those usually never end well. Times where Jina forgets to turn the little lamp beside the bed on, or when Daeun accidentally turns off the light as she sleeps, Jina feels small again. A glitch in her system that she is yet to fix.

 

Jina doesn’t know how much she slept, but it feels satisfyingly long. She stirs awake, slowly pulled out of dreamland, and she still feels the weight of the pillow on her head.

 

She pushes it away with a little groan, the covers up to her chin, keeping her warm.

 

Jina tries to stretch carefully and slowly flutters her eyes open, but her stomach drops almost painfully.

 

It’s dark. Pitch black, silent, and Jina’s body locks up.

 

She left the lights on before she napped. She’s sure she did.

 

Jina’s eyes are wide, she can’t breath well anymore. Despite the covers, her body grows cold and she pushes herself off of the bed. Her eyes are slow to adjust to the darkness, that does nothing to help.

 

She yelps when she almost trips on something on the floor, the pain in her ribs subsiding for the time being. She can still feel it, raw and nasty, but something duller has washed over her. Something familiar, something she wishes would leave her the fuck alone.

 

She has one hand on her hurting side and the other out in the air, wide eyes roaming around, trying to get used to the darkness quickly.

 

Jina feels eyes on her. From every corner of the room, she feels it and it makes goosebumps take over her skin. Her hands curl into fists and she closes her eyes, trying to move to where she thinks the door is. 

 

“Hoseok?!” She finds herself calling, loud and shaky. She tries to inhale, only to let out a hoarse moan that leaves her mouth open in pain. “Hoseok!”

 

Harsh, hurried footsteps are on the other side of the door. Jina flinches and she involuntarily moves to the other side. Her eyes snap open and she feels tears perk up in them.

 

“No, no, he isn’t… He isn’t here.” Jina forces her head down, one arm still wrapped around herself. “He’s not—AH!”

 

The door swings open, and Jina can’t help but scream in horror. The light from the hallway attacks her poor eyes, but she takes it. The silhouette in the doorframe is heaving, and Jina was about to scream again before the lights turned back on.

Wide eyes meet Hoseok’s and they look so similar to how they looked the night of the incident. Wide, teary, terrified. She’s close to the door. If she took one step closer he would’ve definitely accidentally hit her when he opened it.

 

“What?!” Hoseok steps in, eyes wide. His mouth takes a little O shape. “What happened?!”

 

Jina’s eyes roam around the room, panicked eyes jumping from one corner to another frantically. “I...I—”

 

Hoseok steps closer, hands out in caution. “Are you hurt?!”

 

“You…” Jina’s eyes are back on him now. She heaves, eyes still wide, still teary. “You turned… the lights off?”

 

Hoseok frowns. “Yes?”

 

“Ah,” Jina sighs out, something close to a sob escaping her trembling lips. She raises both hands up to her hair and yanks on it slightly, closing her eyes. “Why—Why would you…”

 

“You were sleeping, I thought you just forgot it on,” Hoseok steps closer again, he reaches out to touch her. But it clicks, then, and he can almost physically feel the colors draining from his face.

 

It’s not just the night she was attacked. The day she stayed the night with him, she told him not to turn off the light.

 

Hoseok loses his frown, and his face falls in realization. “You don’t like the dark.”

 

Jina’s still heaving when she runs her hands down her face, her eyes remain glossy.

 

“Never do this again,” She tells him. She sounds desperate, shaky. “Please. Never.”

 

“Alright,” Hoseok nods. He tries to hide the concern on his face. “Do you want me to get you anything?”

 

Jina shakes her head. Her figure trembles, he can see how much of a toll it's taking on her to try to breathe properly again.

 

There was an attempt to move forwards, and Hoseok finds himself closing the distance between them.

 

There is a lump, a rather painful one blocking her airway. It’s forcing more tears to her tired eyes but she can’t cry. Not again, not in front of Hoseok.

 

But it's hard, and the process makes it even more difficult to breath. A tremor rocks her body, she barely feels Hoseok’s hands on her. 

 

She still feels eyes on her. She almost feels his harsh hands on her body, painting purple and blue on the color of her skin. 

 

Such a sick and twisted thing, her mind.

 

But it’s done. The lights are back on, she can see just fine, and Hoseok is here.

 

Jina forces her gaze on his, and he looks worried. Eyebrows furrowing and eyes sharp, he’s quiet. He has grabbed her elbows some time ago, but now, a hand trails to the center of her back in support. She must look as bad as she feels for him to react like this.

 

Pathetic. It makes her feel pathetic and weak, trembling in his arms like this. 

 

“I-I don’t know how to help.” Hoseok tells her. His voice is low and breathy. If he spoke any harsher or louder than this, Jina might’ve just broken all together. “Tell me how to help.”

 

One of her hands fist the material of the hoodie he’s wearing, as if it was the last bit of emotion Jina wishes to get a grip on. 

 

What is it with him? Every time he holds her like this, careful and gentle, it makes her feel all sorts of things that tightens her chest. Things that push her over the edge only hardly each time.

 

Jina has to swallow a sob that almost escaped without her permission. The hand Hoseok still has on her elbow trails up to her bicep a little, loosening as if he’s afraid she will break in his grip.

 

He doesn’t know what he’s doing when he pulls her closer, but he knows that this is the comfort he can provide her without making a fool out of himself.

 

But Jina fits in his arms like a puzzle piece. When they are close enough, her head lols on his shoulder and he pulls her against him, feeling her hitching breath on the skin of his neck.

A silent tear slips past Jina’s waterline, and she buries her face in the crook of Hoseok’s neck. Shortly, the detective feels the familiar tingles on the back of her head again when one of his hands settle there, and the other remains on her back.

 

It’s feather light as it trails downwards, halting at the end of her back. 

 

Something warm spreads in Hoseok’s chest when Jina breathes out a long sigh, and her taut figure slackens in his grip. Soon, he holds his breath, freezing when the hand that previously had a fistful of his hoodie on his shoulder loosens and slowly wraps around his neck instead.

 

Jina is still shaking terribly. Her breath is still a little unsteady as it breaks on his neck, and he feels something twist in his chest when he feels what must be a fallen tear trail down his skin.

 

“I think you need to go back to bed,” Hoseok says. His fingers sink through her hair, and Jina shivers. “Let’s move, mh? Can you?”

 

It takes her a couple seconds, but Jina nods against him. Her cheeks heat up in embarrassment and she lets her hand slip down from his neck to move away, but Hoseok keeps her close. 

 

He can’t carry her. He would, he really fucking would, but that would only put the pair of them in more pain than they want. 

 

So, with his hand still at the small of her back, he gently pushes her towards the bed. His other hand grasps around her bicep in a supportive grip, never missing how flushed her face is as she turns around.

 

Hoseok sits Jina down on the bed. She immediately lets her head fall to the pillow she was previously sleeping on, and she pulls her feet up to the bed. 

 

“I’ll go get your meds. Stay put, alright?”

 

Jina nods, avoiding eye contact as she makes herself comfortable in bed. Hoseok stays still for a few seconds, just looking at her, before he starts to move to the door.

 

Jina fixes the pillows on the bed so she can half-lay in an elevated position so her rib wouldn’t be more of a pain than it already is. She leans her back against the pillows with a little moan, a hand falling lightly on where it hurts most as she hears footsteps nearing her again.

 

Hoseok tries to catch her gaze again, but she keeps it dawnguard even as he hands her the three little pills in his hand. She leans her head back as she throws them in her mouth, fingers grazing Hoseok’s as she reaches out for the glass of water in his other hand.

 

“Have you been taking them regularly?” Hoseok asks, putting the glass on the bedside table. She hums in reply, and Hoseok looks back to her.

 

Jina moves under the covers, and to Hoseok’s surprise, she scoots to the side, leaving space at the edge of the bed.

 

Hoseok eyes the empty space then looks back to her. She pulls the covers to her face, hiding from his sight, and Hoseok can’t fight back the small smile that manages to break on his face.

 

That’s… That’s cute.

 

She stays hidden behind the covers, and Hoseok stays on his feet for a few seconds just to watch her reaction. It doesn’t take her much to start curling on herself slowly, quivering in what must be embarrassment.

 

Hoseok lets out a breathy chuckle that he couldn’t hold back. He climbs in the bed beside Jina, a smile still luminous on his face as he pulls the covers over him. 

 

He reaches for her under the covers, pulling her closer.  He rests his back against the pillows, mirroring her position. Jina doesn’t move. She allows Hoseok to pull her against him, shoulder to shoulder. 

 

Hoseok hesitates at first, considering how tense she still looks compared to a couple of minutes ago, but he raises the arm closest to her and wraps it around her shoulder.

 

It surprises him just how naturally she reacts to this. She lets out one of those sighs she breathes out when she relaxes, although she tries to do this as discreetly as she could all while letting her head fall to his shoulder once more.

 

Her hands seem to loosen around the covers that she still hides her face with, and they trail down in a painfully slow manner. Jina doesn’t try to meet his eyes once hers are visible again, even though Hoseok tries to hold her gaze even just for a second.

 

It isn’t long before she feels self-conscious and hides her face in his chest. “Stop looking at me.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Please.”

 

“I like looking at you.”

 

Jina lets out something akin to a whimper as she attempts to make herself smaller in his arms, pushing herself further against him until there’s not even a hair of space between them.

 

Hoseok carefully moves his hand from her shoulder to the back of her head, and Jina tries to breath deeply against him. 

 

Jina likes her hair played with. She likes physical touch. It’s almost funny just how fast he’s found her keys, and he doesn’t think he wants to stop using them to feel her relax against him the way she does.

 

Because when she does, it feels like she melts at his will. Her usually taut figure loses all tension at a single touch. Hoseok doesn’t understand how they went from screaming threats left and right to each other, to this.

 

What the fuck are they doing?

 

“The meds will put you to sleep soon.” Hoseok says, voice deep and low. Only for her to hear. “Do you wanna do anything before you sleep again?”

 

Jina shakes her head, still keeping her face hidden.

 

Never in a million years would Hoseok have thought that Jina would be the shy type, but he likes it to extents that would worry him if he wasn’t as dazed in the situation as he is.

 

Because Jina’s easily the only thing on his mind right now, and it’s beyond calming.

 

“Actually,” Jina’s voice is muffled, but she finally raises her head to meet his eyes. “There’s another thing I think you should know.”

 

They’re close again. It's dangerous.

 

“What?” Hoseok keeps his voice low and breathy, his attention way too far from the words coming out of her mouth.

 

Well, technically it’s on her mouth, just not the words coming out of it.

 

Jina seems to notice his distraction, so she looks away and clears her throat. Little does she know, Hoseok remains distracted as long as he’s looking at her.

 

“It’s about Namjoon,” She starts. Hoseok frowns, snapping out of his bubble. “Kim Namjoon, my colleague.”

 

“I know him,” Hoseok says. “What about him?”

 

“Well,” Jina clears her throat again, bringing her hands out to play with them on top of the covers. “He… He saw me one day in the hospital with Jeongguk and Taehyung when I came to… to see you before you woke up.”

 

Hoseok knew she went to see him when he was out a few times, Yoongi told him. Although, hearing it coming from her somehow just… made it more real, in a way. Made the feeling in his chest that formed when he first heard about it blossom even more, but there seems to be a whole other part of her sentence that Hoseok seemed to ignore.

 

“He figured out who you are,” Jina says, looking back up at him.

 

That seemed to be enough to grasp his full attention.

 

He isn’t surprised, he knew this would happen. Taehyung warned him before about him. He’s too smart for his own good.

 

“I—I had to tell him about our deal.”

 

“What did he say?”

 

Jina looks down to her hands, something sad taking over her face. “Nothing. He just told me to...leave. That he didn’t want to talk to me at the moment so I just...left.”

 

Hoseok studies the side of her face. “When did that happen?”

 

“Yesterday.”

 

“That’s why you came here to drink?”

 

Jina nods. “I didn’t wanna go back to my mom. If I did, I would've just bursted and told her everything. I had to… improvise.”

 

The blossoming feeling subsides, replaced by the familiar dull nagging he almost always feels in her presence.

 

Jina’s life has fallen apart from the moment Hoseok stepped a foot in it. The look she has on her face reminds him of that just fine.

 

“I’ll take care of it,” Hoseok tells her. She looks at him. “Don’t worry about it.”

 

Jina’s eyes widen a little, panic filling them. “What are you gonna do?”

 

“I’m not hurting him,” Hoseok reassures her, the pads of his fingers adding just enough pressure to her scalp. “I’ll ask to meet him so we can talk. I’ll see what i can do from there.”

 

That seems to relieve her enough to relax against him again. 

 

“You know,” Hoseok mumbles. His fingers comb through her hair, and she lets her head fall to his chest once more. “We’re not supposed to hurt people outside of our business. As long as he doesn’t do something threatening, i can’t lay a finger on him even if i want to.”

 

“Seokjin told me,” Jina says. “I guess that law doesn’t fall on me, then.”

 

She sure knows how to guilt trip someone.

 

“I never hurt you though.”

 

She looks up at him with a deadpan. “Really?”

 

Hoseok blinks. “Not physically.”

 

“My poor wrists say otherwise.” She raises them up briefly. 

 

He’s always felt bad about that too. There always has been this apology on the tip of his tongue that he can’t seem to let go of yet.

 

“I almost died for you. I think we’re even.” Hoseok tells her with a roll of his eyes. “I only held you a little tighter than normal. It’s not my fault you’re fragile.”

 

“I’m fragile?” Jina protests, offended. “Next time you do that I’ll fucking show you how fargile I am.”

 

“I’m kidding, Jesus Christ,” Hoseok gives her a weird look and forces her head back to his chest. “What I mean is that there’s a difference between yours and Kim Namjoon’s situations.”

 

“How so?” Jina sounds grumpy.

 

“He hasn’t done anything threatening to me or my family. Not yet, at least,” Hoseok explains, all while playing with her hair like a reflex. “Meanwhile, your whole existence has been threatening from the moment we met. Having someone like you on my side is way better than going up against you.”

 

Jina stays quiet for a few seconds, then mumbles out. “Don’t stroke my ego like that.”

 

“I’m not stroking your ego,” Hoseok chuckles. “I never denied your capabilities. If it was anyone else i would’ve ended this whole thing long ago.”

 

“Mmm,” Jina lets out.

 

Hoseok looks down at her from his position, and he finds her eyes closed.  He slows down the movement of his hand, getting ready to pull it away. Once he starts to let go, one of Jina’s hands reach back and wrap around his hand.

 

“Don’t stop,” Her voice is just above a whisper, sleepy. 

 

Hoseok freezes for a couple of seconds, her hand warm against his, but he resumes his task soon enough. When she makes sure that he isn’t stopping, Jina lets her hand slowly loose around his until it falls back in her lap.

 

A minute follows the other, and Hoseok keeps playing with Jina’s hair calmly until her chest rises and falls in a steady rhythm. 

 

Just like this morning, every now and then, Jina would breath out a low moan and her eyebrows would furrown only ever so slightly before everything went back to normal.

 

Hoseok already knew how bad her state was, but somehow, when he went in to check up on her as she napped earlier, it looked worse than he thought.

 

The ice pack fell on the floor, it already melted, leaving the area it previously acquired completely bare and exposed. 

 

The area is darkened, painted purple, red, and blue.  It wraps around her side and almost reaches the middle of her stomach, just below her sternum. 

 

He felt angry, then. Angry that someone like Ahn Changmin still breathes the same air he does, knowing well that he’s the reason Jina lays like that with most of her body painted with pain and discomfort.

 

Besides the fact that he stabbed him, and all.

 

Maybe that’s why it slipped his mind that Jina doesn’t like the dark when he turned the lights off after covering Jina up properly. 

 

But he’s no better, in a way. He once painted her skin in those colors too, even as minor as it is compared to what Changmin did. 

 

Hoseok’s gaze falls to her wrist, one that has shifted near his own lap a few minutes ago.

 

The day he took her to Yoongi, he remembers how they’ve already started turning red and irritated. He was sure it was going to leave a mark for at least a couple of days. 

 

When he went to see her after that, the day they talked at the park, her wrists were still wrapped with a faded color, one darker than her normal skin tone. He wouldn’t even have noticed it if he hadn’t grabbed her hand to secure the box of donuts on her lap.

 

With his free hand, Hoseok reaches for Jina’s wrist. He wraps his fingers around it, letting his thumb settle on the inside of her wrist, feeling her pulse when he focuses just enough.

 

Her hand is small in his grip, he notices. 

 

Hoseok lets his thumb trace the veins dancing together beneath her skin, trailing the shape of her hand with his hands as if he wants to memorize it. 

 

There’s a scar inside her palm. Right in the middle, and Hoseok notices that this is the hand she hurt weeks ago when she crashed their meeting.

 

She’s been through plenty from the moment they met. He can’t imagine how hard it must’ve been.

 

Thoughtlessly, Hoseok carefully brings her hand up. He closes his eyes and lets his lips graze the inside of her wrist in the softest of kisses, careful not to wake her up.

 

“I’m so sorry.”

By some miracle, he’s managed to fall asleep. A kind of sleep that’s quiet and comfortable, he hasn’t had one of those in a while.

 

Jina hasn’t moved since she fell asleep, but their legs managed to tangle together while they blended together in a position that is comfortable for the pair of them. 

 

Hoseok hasn’t let go of Jina’s hand yet, and her other hand managed to snake around his stomach, while Hoseok’s other hand had fallen from her hair to wrap around her waist, settling on her lap. 

 

His head is resting against the pillow behind his head. Amidst her deep sleep, Jina moved her head up to Hoseok’s neck, her nose grazing his jawline every time she shifts unconsciously. 

 

Hoseok thought he’d have trouble falling asleep with the lights being kept on, but this was the fastest he’s fallen asleep at his own will in a long while.

 

So naturally, when something attempts to pull him out of his sleep, he doesn’t let himself wake up right away.

 

He can hear the low ringing of a phone nearby through his sleep, but he ignores it until it stops. With a little sigh, he pulls Jina closer and leans into her, ready to fall completely asleep again.

 

But the phone rings once more. 

 

It’s like the universe is out to get him.

 

With his eyes still closed, Hoseok lets go of Jina’s hand and reaches to the bedside table, patting around to find the ringing phone. Jina moans in protest when he leans away a little, but she makes herself comfortable when he returns in his previous position again.

 

Without looking at the phone, Hoseok presses on where he knows the accept button must be and pushes the phone to his ear.

 

“Hello?” He mumbles out.

 

“Uh… Who is this?”

 

“Huh?” Hoseok’s still not fully awake. He pulls the phone away and opens his eyes to see who’s calling.

 

‘golden retriever’ it says.

 

“Who is this?” He’s more alert now.

 

“Lieutenant Jeong Yunho. Who are you?!” 

 

Hoseok pulls the phone from his ear once more, and only then does he realize that this is not his phone.

 

“Fuck,” He mumbles, looking down at Jina. 

 

“Hello?!” He hears Yunho’s voice even with the phone away from his ear.

 

He puts it back, letting his eyes fall closed in frustration. “Yeah, sorry—“

 

“Who the fuck—“

 

“It’s Jung Hoseok. Pretty sure you know who i am.”

 

The line goes quiet for a few seconds, Hoseok almost falls back asleep again.

 

“What are you doing with Jina?”

 

“Well,” Hoseok looks down at her. She looks completely unbothered. “We were sleeping and you very rudely woke me up.”

 

“What?”

 

Hoseok pulls back the phone to see the clock, before an annoyed frown takes over his face. “it’s four in the fucking morning. What can be so urgent for you ro call three times in a row?”

 

“I...I…” Yunho trails off, clearly confused. “A body has been identified as Baek Jonwoo. We’re supposed to go check it out.”

 

Hoseok straightens up. “Who did you say?”

 

“Baek Jonwoo.”

 

His sudden movement must’ve bothered Jina, because she stirs in his grip, eyebrows furrowing. 

 

He feels bad for it, but Hoseok shakes her gently. “Jina.”

 

She hums grumpily in response.

 

“It’s…” Fuck, he already forgot his name. “Golden retriever. He says they found Baek Jonwoo.”

 

Jina’s eyes snap open. “What?”

 

“She saved me as golden retriever?” He hears her colleague mumble before Jina pulls the phone from his hand.

 

“Yunho?” She pulls away from Hoseok, running a hand in her very, very messy hair. Her eyes already look awake, even though her fingers aren’t holding the phone well. “Okay, okay. Send me the location. I’ll go right now.”

 

Jina throws her phone in the distance that’s now been created between them and fumbles with the covers, almost falling out of bed when they refuse to come off of her.

 

“Woah, woah,” Hoseok pulls her back flush against his chest. “Slow down. He’s not going anywhere.”

 

“I need to go—“

 

“We’ll go, just slow down.” He tells her. She looks back at him, a confused frown on her face. “You’ll only hurt yourself like that.”

 

“What do you mean we’ll go?”

 

“It’s four in the morning, you won’t find something to ride.” Hoseok lets go of her, pulling the covers off of her correctly. “And I’m not letting you drive.”

 

“I don’t think you should be driving either.”

 

Hoseok pushes himself out of bed.“I drove here last night. Piece of cake.”

 

“He said they found him near the outskirts of Seoul.” Jina shakes her head, taking the hand Hoseok offers her to help her out of bed. “It’s too much for you to drive.”

 

“It really isn’t, and I wasn't asking.” Hoseok presses his lips in a thin line. She stands up, and they’re close again. Jina pouts a little. “Come on. We’ll be late.”

 

Notes:

hhhehehhehe
PLS THEYRE SO🥺🥺🥺 I LOVE THEM🥺🥺🥺
Jina and Namjoon tho... mane i feel bad
THE MORE I GO THE MORE I GET MORE EXCITED TO SEE WHATS TO COME!! i have a lot planned pls im🥰
Kodus and comments keep the writers going yall!! dont forget🥰
i love you guys so much! thank u for reading<3
see you next time!

Chapter 12: dodici

Summary:

“What did you call me here for, anyway?”

“I need you to meet up with Jina’s colleague. Namjoon. You know him?”

It’s Seokjin’s turn to stay quiet. He freezes under Hoseok’s gaze, face neutral and body completely still. It takes him a few seconds, that Hoseok wasn’t even sure he heard him until he inhales a deep breath.

“I know him.”

Notes:

*peeks head* hello?
I REALLY HOPE YALL ARE STILL THERE. ITS BEEN ALMOST TWO FUCKING MONTH BUT I HAVE REASONS OKAY
they made us take our finals early for some fucking reason and i barely had any time to do anything:( they just ended though and i managed to pull this out if my head lol.
idk if im satisfied with this chapter tbh, i apologize if it’s a bit dry or forced but im in a v v bad writing slump and im tryna break myself out of it
HOPEFULLY REGULAR UPDATES FROM NOW ON! im going to do my very best🥰
I HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS ROLLARCOASTER!! your feedback and kudos always make my day!! im so sorry for the long wait once more:(

now onto the chapter!!

Jina feels suffocated in the closed car. The rain hits the glass windows harshly, she allows it to attempt to calm her down even just a little bit. 

 

It’s cold as it is. The rain is merciless and Jina sees the sky light up with lightning strikes every now and then, and thunder sounds in her chest so harshly that she finds herself breathless with every strike. The padded coat Hoseok lent her keeps her body warm nonetheless, but she still feels cold.

 

The kind of cold that leaves you choked and uncomfortable, the one that freezes your nerves instead of your body.

 

Namjoon drives, she’s sitting in the backseat. Right behind him.

 

He hasn’t even looked at her since she arrived at the scene. 

 

Even Yunho noticed that something was up when he found Jina going for the backseat instead of her usual beeline to the passenger seat whenever Namjoon drives. Instead, he sits quietly in the passenger seat, occasionally giving the pair of them a discreet look of what Jina recognizes as worry.

 

Jina doesn’t know what Namjoon has done with the newly found information she threw at his face a couple of days ago. She doesn’t know if he has told someone, doesn’t know if he did, or will do something about it. Doesn’t even know if the rest of the division knows by now, but she can only hope for the best.

 

She chooses to trust him instead. Even after the reaction he gave her the last time they met.

 

Because at the end of the day there is this delusional voice in her head, still hoping and praying that this is only temporary. He’s just a little pissed, he tends to kinda isolate himself when he’s pissed. That he’ll forgive her soon, she just needs to wait it out.

 

But the longer she seems to wait, the more she feels her stomach twist. Her mind pulls up random possibilities of what could this situation turn into, and it is safe to say that all the possibilities she thinks of are all just fucking nasty.

 

Jina still chooses to trust him.

 

She still believes that he has his own side of the story to explain too.

 

Because even if she doesn’t want to admit it, her mind keeps connecting events to one another.

 

When he asked her about the pictures, Hoseok wasn’t his main concern. His brain has already painted the colors of betrayal in a portray in his head, and to Jina, at that time, it looked like Taehyung and Jeongguk were the ones in the center.

 

The first time Hoseok came to her mom’s cafe, Namjoon looked a little taken, a little pale in the face other than the redness of his nose from the cold. She thought he’d followed her to the counter but when she turned around he was falling behind, frozen in place, breathless and tense. He was looking in the direction where Hoseok and his men sat. 

 

When Jina asked him about it later that day, he brushed it off as nothing, that seeing Hoseok so bold just pissed him off.

 

But when he spoke of Taehyung and Jeongguk the day he confronted her, she still might be wrong, but it didn’t look like he was just talking about a pair of gangsters that he’d found.

 

The look in his eyes was different.

 

But who knows, maybe she’s just projecting.

 

It took a long time to arrive back at the station, and the whole ride was spent in utter silence. Yunho fell asleep at some point.

 

All while Jina was choked by unshed tears, hands aching to reach out to find the comfort she’s always found in her best friend.

 

But he’s cold. He’s so cold.

 

“A dead end, huh?”

 

Jina nods. She puts her phone on her desk. “We’ll wait for the autopsy report, I guess.”

 

Siwon pats her on the shoulder in a supportive manner as he makes his way to his own desk. It’s eight already. Jongho should be on his way too.

 

It’s been quiet since they arrived.

 

Namjoon’s been staying in the cafeteria all the time, leaving Jina lonely in the face of Yunho’s rapid investigation of worry. 

 

She tried to brush it off as much as she could, to tell him that he’s just going through a rough patch at the moment and needs his alone time. It didn’t look like he was 100% convinced, but Jina guesses that he might’ve picked up that she doesn’t want to talk about it and went to get her coffee instead.

 

Since then, only more silence followed, but not the suffocating type she often feels these days. 

 

Yunho is always kind and understanding. Jina learned that he has a tendency to pick up the mood from the air, and manages to adjust his behavior to match it, whatever it is. 

 

So instead, he flops down in Namjoon’s seat, the one right next to hers, plays on his phone until he starts to get droopy. 

 

Jina just needs to be here until official working hours start. She’ll leave once she reports to Jeongsu. She doesn’t think she’ll be able to stay at the same place as Namjoon any longer. She’ll look for anything progressive to do.

 

“Sunbae,” Yunho suddenly calls from his position. Jina didn’t even think he was awake, so she’s a little startled when she looks at him. “What were you doing with Jung Hoseok-ssi last night?”

 

Jina freezes. She tries to keep her face as neutral as she can. “He stayed over for the night.”

 

“You’re that close, huh?” There's a hit of teasing in his voice, a little smirk taking over his handsome face. “That progressed quickly.”

 

“Nothing’s going on, Yunho. Don’t humor yourself.”

 

“Riiighht,” He rises in his seat a little, turning fully towards her. “It sounded to me like you were sleeping a little too close to each other, though.”

 

“Yunho,” Jina throws him a death glare.

 

“Yes?”

 

“Kindly shut the fuck up.”

 

“It’s okay, you can tell me.” Yunho pulls himself closer, excitement igniting in his previously sleepy eyes. “I mean, he is likable. Look at him. CEO, handsome, young. It’s like winning the lottery!”

 

Disbelief takes over Jina’s face. “Didn’t you hate him like.. two days ago?”

 

“Didn’t you say I shouldn't worry about him?”

 

Jina stays quiet for a couple of seconds, just looking at him before she gives him a single nod of her head.

 

“I trust you,” Yunho leans back in his seat. “As long as you don’t see him as a threat, I won't.”

 

She doesn’t know when she stopped seeing Hoseok as a threat.

 

“Wah, it must be fate!” Yunho exclaims a little too loudly. Jina’s eyes widen and she looks around for any peering eyes, but she luckily doesn’t even find Siwon in his seat anymore. “You accidentally arrest him and you guys fall in love. A bit kinky, but—“

 

“You’re a fucking child.” Jina looks away, putting her hands to her ears. “Stop talking.”

 

“Oh, look how flustered you are!” Yunho comes closer, trying to pry her hands from her ears. “You like him, don’t you?”

 

“I don’t like him!” Jina has to look around after her very loud statement to make sure no one else was prying into their conversation. She looks back to Yunho, who has a shit-eating smirk on his lips. “My god! Do you always jump to conclusions like that?”

“I’m just saying!” He leans back in his seat, tangling his fingers on his lap. “It will be impossible not to like him at some point.”

 

“Can you just…” Jina makes an attempt to kick Yunho’s chair away, but he slides away himself. “Go back to sleep?”

 

“I’m enjoying this conversation, though. I’ll pass.”

 

“I’m not.” Jina stands up from her seat, throwing Yunho a glare after checking the clock on her phone. “I’ve got to go anyway. There are some people I need to question.”

 

Before Jina could fully step away from her desk, Yunho speaks again. “Hey, Sunbae…”

 

Jina turns around, eyebrows furrowed, expecting another round of teasing.

 

“Is everything okay between you and Namjoon-hyung?”

 

Jina stays silent for a few seconds too long. “Didn’t he tell you not to call him hyung at work?”

 

“Well, he’s not here, so,” Yunho shrugs, a little smile remaining on his face. 

 

“We’re just going through a rough patch, Yunho. You don’t have to worry about it.”

 

“Is it because of Jung Hoseok?” Yunho suddenly leans forward in his seat, curious eyes refusing to let Jina go. 

 

But it is pretty obvious, isn’t it?

 

Jina turns around. “I’ll see you later, Yunho.”

 

 

---

“What the fuck are you doing here?!”

 

“I got bored.” Hoseok twirls in his chair. “Yoongi’s mad at me, I have no one to annoy at home. Thought I'd come piss people off here.”

 

Seokjin stands smack in the middle of Hoseok’s office, his briefcase in one hand, while the other runs through his now not so neat hair. The look of disbelief he has plastered on his face makes Hoseok let out a little chuckle.

 

“You’re in a good mood.” Seokjin remarks, tone dripping with what must be sarcasm.

 

“It’s good to be out again.”

 

“With no protection. Like you didn’t almost just fucking die.”

 

“The fucker’s locked up. I’m not even the target.” Hoseok says, leaning forwards with a little sound. Seokjin catches on it, giving him a deadpan. “I’m not staying home a fucking day longer, hyung. People need to see me on my feet again, don’t you think?”

 

Seokjin stays quiet. He knows Hoseok is right.

 

“Besides, I feel fine. Really.”

 

“Obviously.” Seokjin sighs in defeat, unbuttoning his blazer as he steps closer to Hoseok’s desk. He sits down on one of the armchairs with a huff, throwing Hoseok a look. “You ran at three in the damn morning to go see her.”

 

Hoseok rolls his eyes. “I’m not getting scolded about this again.”

 

“Pretty fucking dumb of you, if you ask me. Jimin would’ve handled it just fine.”

 

“Jimin looked like he went through hell and back by the time I arrived,” Hoseok says. “Which brings me to the fact that I will literally shoot anyone that tries to hide something like this from me again, by the way.”

 

“I would’ve loved to tell you the moment you woke up. Would’ve been great to watch you die from a heart attack.”

 

“The fuck do you take me for? I’m not that light-hearted.”

 

“Explains why you totally didn’t drive at 4 in the morning with a third hole punched in you to see if little miss bitch was alive.”

 

Hoseok frowns at him. “Don’t call her that.”

 

“Why not?” Seokjin asks, eyes widening with a challenge.

 

Hoseok stays quiet. He raises an eyebrow, face relaxed. 

 

“Don’t you think that she’s taking more of your time than she should?”

 

“What the fuck?” Hoseok leans against his desk, disbelief written all over his body. “I’m literally trying to make this go as smoothly as I can and yall just keep on throwing shit like that?”

 

“Right,” Seokjin chuckles sarcastically, looking away for a few seconds. When he looks back at Hoseok, the younger is leaning back in his chair with a huff. “What did you call me here for, anyway?”

 

Hoseok keeps glaring at Seokjin for a few seconds, then he starts speaking. “I need you to meet up with Jina’s colleague. Namjoon. You know him?”

 

It’s Seokjin’s turn to stay quiet, this time. He freezes under Hoseok’s gaze, face neutral and body completely still. It takes him a few seconds, that Hoseok wasn’t even sure he heard him until he inhales a deep breath. 

 

“I know him.”

 

“He figured out what’s going on and confronted Jina about it. I need you to make sure he doesn’t run his mouth.”

 

“Taehyung warned you about him.”

 

“What was I supposed to do?” Hoseok inquires, little frustration lingering within his voice. “It was inevitable.”

 

Seokjin lets Hoseok’s words hang in the air once more, and turns his head to look ahead of him.

 

For almost a couple of minutes, the man is quiet. His shoulders move up and down steadily, eyes unblinking and empty. Hoseok watches closely, eventually catching on to the fact that the older has something on his mind.

 

“Is there an issue?”

 

“No,” Seokjin replies right away, not taking his eyes off of the spot he’s been looking at for a while now. “It just fucking irks me how much trouble Park Jina brought with her.”

 

“It wasn’t her fault.”

 

Seokjin looks at Hoseok at that, and Hoseok just guesses that he must’ve said something wrong by the look the older has on his face.

 

Seokjin opens his mouth, features looking venomous, but his attempt in possibly cursing at Hoseok falls short when the door opens abruptly.

 

Seulgi stumbles inside the office, with wide eyes and messy steps. “What the hell are you doing here?!”

 

Hoseok throws his head back on his chair and lets out a long sigh.

 

Seokjin had decided to let his curses be left unsaid earlier, only settling with a look that told Hoseok that this discussion was not yet over before he took his leave. It is safe to say that the younger isn’t excited to hear what he has to say.

 

The rest of the day moves on smoothly, and Hoseok is glad he’s out and about again. Although it's a busy day, there is some sort of familiarity that manages to fill the emptiness he’d felt while laying like a log in bed for weeks.

 

Hoseok isn’t used to lounging around. He always has to be doing something, or else he would feel his inevitable insanity crawling up on him.

 

He realized it’s because work, either side of it, usually distracts him from his thoughts. He’s often too busy to dwell on how he feels, so when he’s finally alone with free time on his hands, it all hits him like a truck. It’s an unhealthy coping mechanism, overworking, but he reminds himself that it is much better than the others he’s already tried.

 

Even when he felt like his wound was acting up in the middle of a meeting, Seulgi was there to stand in for him.

 

She stayed by his side the whole day, for which he is thankful. Although she had to hear a brief lecture about how she shouldn’t leave her desk like she did this morning when he had arrived, she made sure Hoseok was feeling well all day.

 

He’s comfortable with Seulgi. She’s been around for a long time, Hoseok got used to her presence wherever he is. When he first picked her to be his personal secretary, he was a bit unsure of his decision. She was originally one of Jimin’s workers. She was well educated and smart, could’ve easily scored somewhere that definitely wasn’t a brothel.

 

Hoseok thought it would be nice to have someone who knows both his identities by his side, and he’s still sure he made the right choice when he chose her.

 

His phone dings as he raises his head to watch the opening door to his office. His arms are spiraled out on his desk,  a mess of paperwork between them.

 

Seulgi gives him a slight chuckle as she lets the door close. “Are you sure you wanna stay?”

 

“I’m not answering that.”

 

“You know you can leave, right?” She walks closer with lazy, relaxed steps. “You’re not even supposed to be back to work yet.”

 

“I’ve got nothing else to do,” Hoseok sighs, forcing his attention back on the file in his hand.

 

“Well, we have one more meeting today.” Seulgi settles before his desk, lips pursed. Hoseok’s phone dings again, and he grabs it with a groan of visible distress. “Do you want to postpone it?”

 

Hoseok doesn’t reply right away, he could barely even hear the words coming out of Seulgi’s mouth the moment his screen lit up, displaying two unread text messages from a contact that managed to easily wrap their fingers around Hoseok’s very easily irritable attention.

 

J: where are you?

J: let’s meet up. I have some questions regarding the case

 

“Yoohoo,” Seulgi waves her hand in front of Hoseok’s face. He stopped moving a few seconds ago. “Wanna postpone the meeting?”

 

“Yes,” Hoseok shoots right away. He closes the file in his hand abruptly, resulting in Seulgi yelping a little. He gets up from his seat, grabbing his jacket from its back. “I need to go somewhere.”

 

H: where do you wanna meet?

 

“Did something happen?” Seulgi frowns a little, taking a hesitant step back. “Should I call someone?”

 

Hoseok looks at her, even offers her a little smile of reassurance as he passes by. “No. I just had an appointment I've forgotten about.”

 

J: by the river. Where we sat before.

 

“With who?”

 

“Personal schedule, Seulgi.”

 

J: I’ll be there in 15

J: dont be late

 

“With the detective, huh?”

 

The man grabs his coat from the hanger by the door, not giving Seulgi a second glance as he walks out of his office.

Hoseok made it there in 10 minutes instead, expecting to be early, but there’s a familiar figure already seated where they previously sat weeks ago. As he makes it out of his car, eyes planted on said figure, he fights the urge to chuckle at how bulky her clothes make her look from afar.

 

Jina looks back at him when he was close enough.

 

“Were you waiting for long?”

 

“No, I just got here,” The detective replies, scooting to the right a little to make some room for Hoseok to sit down. She looks to her right as he sits down, grabbing something, then she puts it between them on the bench. “Here. I got you this.”

 

“Huh?” Hoseok lets out breathily, looking down at the object, only to raise his head back up to meet Jina’s gaze right away.

 

She seems to be trying to hold back a smile. She gestures to the coffee in her hand. “I was getting myself one, thought you’d like something to drink.”

 

Hoseok licks his lips, a little heat pickering under his skin as he keeps his gaze planted on her. She bites down on her lower lip to keep in the sound of the giggle that’s already shaking her shoulders subtly. 

 

“So you get me this?”

 

“I didn’t know what else you’d like,” Jina shrugs, bringing her drink to her lips as she pushes the very pink strawberry milkshake closer to Hoseok’s thighs. “Although I didn't make this one myself. I’ll make you a better one next time.”

 

The heat beneath his skin is pleasant, no longer scorching with fury. Makes him want to stay like this for longer under Seoul’s harsh winter, although something irritable coils in his stomach at Jina’s teasing tone.

 

Hoseok grabs the damn thing and forces her a tight smile. “Can’t fucking wait.”

 

Jina chuckles as she watches him wrap his lips around the straw of his drink. “You have to be some kind of psycho to not like strawberry milkshakes.”

 

The thick liquid trails down his throat, and he has to hide the little spark of serotonin that manages to ignite in his brain at the taste. “I’m more of an iced americano guy.”

 

“Why are you drinking it then?” Her tone is teasing again. Hoseok looks at her. 

 

“Well, you got it.” He shrugs, taking another sip. “Would be a dickhead move not to drink it.”

 

“Aw, Look at you being a gentleman and all,” Jina coos. She seems to be in a good mood today.

 

“I’m always a gentleman. You just happen to get on my nerves a lot.”

 

“Of course,” Jina nods mockingly, and Hoseok scoffs in offense. 

 

Jina turns her head, wrapping her little hands around her hot drink as she watches the shifting colors of the sunset’s sky. The layers she has on manage to keep her warm just fine, but it’s gotten a little warmer since Hoseok arrived.

 

“I won’t take long,” After a few seconds spent in silence, Jina turns to look at Hoseok again, only to realize that he’s been looking at her the whole time. “I just have to ask a few questions that could give us any leads after this morning’s dead end.”

 

“Dead end?”

 

“Ah, The man was rotting. Autopsy results are tomorrow. Absolutely no traces left behind.” Jina smiles a little, but it’s a little too sour to be genuine. She lowers her drink to her thigh, and the atmosphere changes around them. Jina’s smile drops. “Taehyung obviously told you, but the asshole’s already been missing since the night of the attack. Whoever sent Changmin to kill me probably sent another minion to kill Jonwoo when he failed his mission. I’m pretty sure they’re the same person that tried to fuck you over.”

 

Hoseok gives her a look. “That’s a nice way to put it.”

 

Jina rolls her eyes. She digs in the pocket of her-- well, Hoseok’s waterproof coat and brings out her phone. Hoseok sees that she opens the note app. There’s stuff written there, but he shifts his eyes away when she looks back up at him.

 

“Were you previously familiar with Ahn Changmin in any way before?” The detective shifts in her seat, fully directing her body towards him.

 

Hoseok shakes his head, taking another gulp of his cool drink.

 

Jina looks at her phone again. “Would you--, wait.” She pauses, eyebrows furrowing just a little. “That’s dumb. Nevermind.” She erases something that’s written in her note. “You obviously have enemies.” She mumbles and looks up at him. “Do you have someone so pissed off that they’d try to sabotage your whole business?”

 

“I have a list,” Hoseok smirks proudly.

 

The detective rolls her eyes again. “Please be specific.” 

 

Hoseok licks his lips again, the sweet strawberry lingering on his tongue, and his smirk hardly falls. A little girl in a large, pink raincoat is hopping around with the same drink he has in his hand, long black hair flowing behind her from the wind that suddenly blew.

 

It wouldn’t be so wise to share such information with the detective, wouldn’t it? The rest of his family would stand in line to scold him each. 

 

But Jina’s an important asset in all of this. If he does decide to share what’s on his mind, even though he never planned so, she could be a helping hand.

 

Although, sharing inside information with a government official is nothing but calling for trouble. It goes against the oh-so-holy code, one stamped to their name.

 

They’ve been through this before with Taehyung and Jungkook. 0 out of 10. Wouldn’t recommend it.

 

Something is nagging at his brain to trust Jina. Telling him that she wouldn’t betray him.

 

But how does he know that? How’s that part of his brain so sure that Jina would never sell him off when someone in her situation would be trying to get their hands on anything to latch on for leverage?

 

“Is the list that long?” Jina’s eyes are a little wide when he looks back at her.

 

Hoseok scoffs with a little chuckle and a shake of his head. “Well, I am the head of a fucking mafia. What do you expect?”

 

“I really don’t understand how both you and Yoongi get to lead.” Jina drops her hands to her crossed thighs, a questioning frown on her face. “Doesn’t this cause trouble? Isn’t there supposed to be one boss?”

 

“That’s a long ass story,” Hoseok says. It's his turn to gaze at the shifting skies.

 

Jina stays quiet for some time, just looking at him, waiting for him to proceed, but he keeps staring dramatically in front of him.

 

“Are you gonna start talking any time soon?”

 

Hoseok gives her a side-eye for cutting off the mood he was trying to get himself immersed in. He inhales, bringing the straw back to his lips for a sip, then he brings the drink back down to his lap again.

 

“Long story short, the Jung and Min were two different families until my old man managed to fall for Min’s sister. They merged families, neither of them wanted to leave their family for the other, and there we are.”

 

“Wait,” Jina scoots closer, curious eyes catching Hoseok’s. “So, you and Yoongi are cousins??”

 

Hoseok nods, lips pursed. 

 

“Did they hate each other?” Jina inquires. “Your dad and Yoongi’s, I mean.”

 

Hoseok shakes his head. “They had a love-hate relationship before my dad fell in love with my mother. Min hated his guts for that, but my mother…” He looks at the girl again. She has sat down on the grass, eating a sandwich her mother had just handed to her. He chuckles a little at the thought of his own mother, a pleasant feeling mixed with agony filling his aching chest. Hoseok looks back at Jina, pursing his lips. “She was a little too stubborn for her own good, you can say. They ended up getting close because of her.”

 

Jina wants to ask more, for some reason. She finds herself eager for him to continue talking, to tell her more about what apparently was , and not anymore, but something tells her that she shouldn’t.

 

The smile he has on his face is too pained . Shoulders slumped and eyes completely vacant of anything harsh, Hoseok looks away from Jina again and inhales a deep breath.

 

“You and Yoongi grew up together, then, huh?” Jina asks, trying to sound lively enough for the pair of them since it all started turning gray before her eyes. “Do you guys fight a lot?”

 

“All the fucking time,” Hoseok sighs. He straightens his back and brings his drink back to his lips. “But we get over it. It’s not like we have somewhere else to run from each other.”

 

Jina chuckles subtly, looking down at the phone in her lap. She’s gotten distracted, she notices. “Sounds like siblings banter to me.”

 

“It is,” Hoseok nods in agreement. He still has the same little smile on his face, only a little brighter this time as he turns to take a look at Jina.

 

Her nose got redder since he arrived. She’s looking at him with something soft in her eyes, and Hoseok's heart stutters when he realizes just how ethereal she looks with the colors from the setting sun reflecting on her skin.

 

Orange, pink, and purple. Something warm, something breathtaking. Curse him if he sees something like this and looks away.

 

If he thought Jina was beautiful back then, then now, as she sits next to him, calm and relaxed with soft eyes and a smile she doesn’t even notice climbing on her lips, he’s looking at something heavenly.

 

He wants to reach a hand out, wants to feel how warm her reddening cheeks feel in his palm after years of grasping on cold air.

 

Wants to brush her bangs away from her eyes so he can drown more into them, to allow the blossoming feeling in his chest to swallow him whole.

 

Hoseok wants to trust Jina. He wants to think that she won’t betray him.

 

He wonders what her reaction would be if he stops fighting the urge nagging at him.

 

“You still didn’t answer my question,” Jina sounds breathy. Low and slow, the look in her eyes never changing.

 

Jina has always been luring, with the tongue of a siren that manages to pull him in without her even uttering a word. 

 

Fuck, he wants to trust her.

 

“There are a few names that come to mind.”

 

“Can you tell me?”

 

I can’t. I really can’t.

 

“A couple of Italian families. They tend to play a little nasty when it comes to us. You know, racism and all.” Hoseok manages to say. He takes in a sharp breath, licking his suddenly dry lips. “You won’t be able to do anything about them anyways. Since they’re abroad.”

 

Jina nods, seemingly convinced, but not convinced enough .

 

“But they would need hands here to execute, won’t they?” The detective types something on her phone. “They’d probably go for the lowly gangs. The hungry ones that they can feed with some cash.”

 

He wants to trust her.

 

“Or if there’s another family here, maybe they would use them against you.”

 

“No one would dare,” Hoseok tells her with a shake of his head.

 

Jina leans on her knee. “How are you so sure?”

 

“We made sure of that long ago,” Hoseok says. He puts his now empty cup between them on the bench, next to her own. “No one would dare.”

 

Jina keeps looking at him for a while, and he can almost hear the gears in her mind working against each other. Hoseok hears her start to tap her foot on the ground as she looks down on her phone again, pulling her lower lip between her teeth.

 

Hoseok leans towards her, trying to peek at what she’s hurriedly typing down out of sheer curiosity, only to stop halfway when she looks up at him through her lashes with what could be the cutest frown he might have seen all his life.

 

Jina pulls the phone up to her face, and continues to type down. “We’ve found a tattoo behind Ahn Changmin’s left ear. I asked around today to see what gang he belongs to but I didn't find anything.”

 

“That’s because you’re asking the wrong people,” Hoseok says in a matter-of-factly tone. “Why anyone else when I’m literally right fucking here?”

 

“I went to prison and met with gang heads I’ve previously cut off,” Jina raises an eyebrow, locking her phone to shove it in her pocket, a little too aggressively. Her chest puffs in pride, her soft eyes fading into something  rather daring, challenging.“I didn’t ask the wrong people. I know how to do my damn job.”

 

Now, why did this go straight to his dick?

 

“Well, if you share with the class, I'm pretty sure I can get to the bottom of it.”

 

The detective keeps giving the same look for some seconds, looking him up and down subtly. She licks her lips and straightens her back. “I’ll think about it.”

 

Hoseok doesn’t understand why a smirk suddenly breaks on his lips as he scoffs lightly with a shake of his head. He looks to the side briefly, then returns his eyes to hers, and there it is. The eyes he’s seen back in the interrogation room, their own little staring contest that they always manage to trap themselves in.

 

It is beyond him just how many emotions that woman makes him feel.

 

One minute he wants to hold her face so delicately, like she’s made glass, and the other he wants to grab her by the jaw and show her her place. Wants to be the reason why her lower lip stays swollen like she always keeps it from biting down too much.

 

“You’ll think about it.”

 

“I’ll think about it,” Jina nods, and she rises to her feet. She grabs the two empty cups from between them, and Hoseok keeps his eyes on her every move, the smirk on his face never departing. “I don’t have any other questions, so…” She raises a hand, giving a little salute. “I’ll catch you later, I guess.”

 

“Where are you going?” Hoseok asks as she starts to step back, going towards the nearby trash can.

 

“Home,” Jina tells him, voice a little elevated as she throws the two cups away. “Well, not home. Gonna go to my mom.”

 

“I’ll drive you then,” He stands up too, taking out his car keys. “I’m going home anyway.”

 

“I can go on my own—“

 

“Don’t…” Hoseok puts a hand up, fingers apart as if he’ll reach and grab her. “Don’t be so stubborn. It’s literally the same fucking building.”

 

Jina pouts, frowning deeply as she walks beside him, but Hoseok can’t help but find it cute once more. “Fine.”

 

“Atta girl,” Hoseok reaches and ruffles her hair. “Finally learning to cooperate without talking back nonsense.”

 

Jina shivers at the touch, her cheeks heating up in response to the unprovoked praise. She thinks of anything to spit out just so she can have the last word, anything to cover up her body’s response to a mere touch, but she fails to come up with anything except for a roll on her eyes and a long, loud sigh.

Although it isn’t that long of a drive, Hoseok hears Jina’s deep breaths around ten minutes later. He doesn’t need to take a look to know that the woman’s already managed to fall asleep soundly, head lolled down to her chest limply. 

 

Hoseok reaches for the stereo to turn it down once he notices. He slows the car down, careful of any bumps, and he feels himself relaxing against his own seat.

 

With one hand on the wheel, Hoseok drags the other up to his hair, leaning his elbow on the closed window frame. It’s nice like this. Jina’s breaths are calming, in a way. Rhythmic. With the little droplets of newly-arriving rain hitting the windshield, the low hum of the stereo, and the darkening skies, it’s nice.

 

He likes it to the point that he slows down even more, just so he can have more of this. As much as he can.

 

Like something is chasing him, something that he knows will ruin all of this and he won’t be able to get more of it.

 

But it’s nice to focus on someone else’s breathing other than his, to feel a heartbeat that’s not his.

 

Hoseok gives Jina a brief look, and he can’t help the sigh that slips past his lips.

 

Her hands are open on her lap, limp, pink at the fingertips. Probably from the cold.

 

The urge to reach there has him forcing both his hands on the wheel. He clears his throat, shaking his head as if to shake away the idea, and he turns his head back forward once more.

 

He’s in trouble, he figured much during the day they spent together. He doesn’t know when it started, or if he always has been in trouble from the start, but now he acknowledges it, and it's slightly more dangerous than he thought.

 

Because he keeps wanting more and more with each time he sees her, each time they accidentally brush past each other. He keeps getting greedier and greedier, and fuck, it’s bad.

 

Everyone already despises the mention of Jina’s name. It would be a mess if someone was to find out what goes on in his sick little brain.

 

Jina doesn’t really help either. The way she melts into him, the way she fits perfectly, it makes his chest hurt just a bit.

 

Hoseok didn’t know Jina would be like this. He didn’t know she would be the type of person to pull down her sleeve and play with it when she gets nervous, or the type to hide endearingly behind a duvet when she silently asks him to get in bed with her.

 

He didn’t know she’d look at him like that, so soft and careful.

 

He didn’t know how warm, warm, warm she is.

 

It’s dangerous. It’s a mess.

 

 A buzz sound snaps him out of his trance, but it’s not his phone. It’s muted, distant. He looks at Jina, who doesn’t even flinch, and another sigh rolls off his lips.

 

“Jina,” He calls, returning his eyes to the road. “Your phone’s ringing.”

 

“Uhgghmm.”

 

Hoseok gives her a weird look. “Your phone’s ringing, Jina.”

 

“Leave it,” Jina mumbles, shifting her head so she leans on the closed window.

 

“It could be important,” Hoseok tells her, stretching his right hand to shake her by the shoulder. “Answer before it stops, come on.”

 

She opens her eyes from her position, scowling, eyes hooded and sleepy as she gives him a look. Hoseok chuckles, gives her shoulder another shake for good measure before she swats his hand away.

 

Jina sits up straight with a moan, lips pouting grumpily as she takes out her phone from her pocket, fumbling a little with it as the sleep refuses to let go of her limbs. Her eyes open a little once she takes a look at the caller, and she immediately pulls the phone up to her ear.

 

“Hello—“

 

“Oh, she finally decides to pick up.” Daeun’s voice booms through the phone, and Jina can almost feel the scolding she’s about to receive all the way from her place in Hoseok’s car. “Why did you get the damn phone if you were just going to ignore my calls? Huh?”

 

Jina lowers the volume of the phone against her ear, peeking at Hoseok from the corner of her eye. “I was busy, mom…”

 

“Then you pick up and you tell me you’re busy!” Daeun scolds. It isn’t much later that she sighs out loudly, shuffling with something in the background. “Anyways, are you going to grace me with your presence today?”

 

“I’m on my way,” Jina puts a hand to her forehead, closing one eye in embarrassment. She leans to her right in a failed attempt to hide from Hoseok’s teasing chuckle. “Drop the sass, I beg of you.”

 

“No,” The older woman says casually, and Jina winces a little. “You just threw me in this big ass place and—“

 

“Hold on a minute!” Hoseok flinches at Jina’s sudden outburst. “ I didn’t throw you anywhere. If anything, you plotted and dragged me there.” She frowns at Hoseok, who raises a hand up in mock defense. “Besides, don’t act like you don’t like it there.”

 

The line falls silent for a couple of seconds before Daeun mumbles. “I do like it…”

 

Jina sighs. “I’m on my way, mom. We can talk when I arrive—”

 

“Are you driving?!” The older woman yells so loudly that Jina has to pull the phone away from her ear.

 

“You took my keys! How am I supposed to drive?!”

 

“I’m driving her home, Mrs. Park!” The enthusiasm in Hoseok’s voice irks Jina, and her frown deepens at him. He smirks teasingly. “You don’t have to worry!”

 

“Oh, Jung Hoseok-ssi…” Daeun lets out, and Jina knows well what’s about to be said. “Am I on speaker?”

 

“No.”

 

“Then,” She pauses, suddenly excited, mischievous. “You can stay out for more. I’m having a blast here on my own.”

 

Jina’s mouth falls in disbelief. “I’m hanging up.”

 

“GO ON A DATE OR SOMETHING—”

 

“BYE!”

 

---

 

 

It’s dark. Seokjin intended on keeping it dark. He just sits there, five minutes turning into ten, to twenty, and he waits.

 

He can still taste the liquor on his tongue from earlier, he had to take a couple of drinks. He can’t do this sober.

 

Damn Hoseok for making him do this at all.

 

Time stretches, and he feels the sizzle of the alcohol start to fade. It makes his brain buzz more, washing away the numbness he has been trying to push himself into. An inevitable lump curls in his throat bit by bit.

 

Seokjin throws his head on the back of the couch he’s sitting on, letting out an exhausted sigh. What’s taking him so long? It’s almost 11 pm on a weekday. 

 

He really just needs this over with, however it will go.

 

Seokjin raises his wrist up, wiggling the watch so he can see the time well. If Namjoon doesn't show up in the next 10 minutes, Seokjin will take his leave to beat Hoseok’s ass.

 

Except, to his luck, Seokjin doesn’t even have to finish his thought before he hears the distant beeps of the lock pad outside the front door. 

Namjoon pushes his way inside his apartment, glaring at the sensor light that doesn't work anymore. He kicks his shoes off with a huff, closing the door behind him.

 

It’s been one hell of a long day. He feels slightly too childish to go to extreme measures to avoid Jina throughout the day, but he just couldn’t even look at her for five straight seconds. 

 

He’s mad. Fuck, he’s fucking livid. 

 

But at what, exactly? That, he can’t put his hands on.

 

He’s mad at Jina, that's a given. She should’ve told him from the get-go, they could've figured something out together. 

 

She chose to go on this path. Chose to put her hand in filth.

 

Chose to betray him. Just like they did.

 

They’re all the same. All of them.

 

Dirty. Dirty.

 

He throws his keys where he knows the counter is, patting the wall to his left for the light switch. 

 

That’s when he smells it.

 

The strong perfume, Namjoon thinks he’s imagining things for the first couple of seconds until his eyes fall to the figure seated on one of his couches.

 

The person looks up at him, and their eyes meet. 

 

Namjoon stays frozen where he is, unable to think, unable to breathe, unable to even blink. 

 

He knew something like this was going to happen eventually. He was waiting for it, for the confrontation. However, he didn’t know it would be him.

 

He never changed his perfume.

 

“It’s been a while,” Seokjin says. Calm, collected, as always.

 

All the stress isn't having Namjoon seeing people from his past, is it?

 

But Seokjin looks real. Too real. Sitting there at the corner of his couch, thighs crossed, sitting elegantly in a perfectly tailored suit as he leans on the armrest comforting.

 

He’s looking at Namjoon, waiting for a response. One that Namjoon fails to process.

 

Hello? Welcome? Yes, it has?

 

What does one say to his ex-lover when he finds him sitting in his living room on a random Tuesday after years of radio silence?

 

Something knots in his chest, and he’s reminded again of what the man in front of him caused years ago. Given the past week’s events, it’s hitting him even more. The betrayal, the heartache he was forced into out of nowhere. Leaving him stranded, completely alone.

 

Empty. Like a teddy with no stuffing, torn and broken.

 

“Are you going to stand there for long?”

 

“What the fuck are you doing in my house?” Namjoon finally snaps out of his trance, disbelief taking over his previous blank expression.

 

“Ah, I let myself in. Sorry about that.” Seokjin waves his hand dismissively. “I knew you weren’t going to let me in yourself.”

 

“Damn right, I wasn't.” Namjoon steps closer, but not too close. His frown is getting narrower. “What the fuck are you doing in my house, Kim Seokjin?”

 

Seokjin has to tilt his head upwards to maintain eye contact when he steps closer. His eyes still look lazy, Namjoon has to fight the urge to punch the look off of his handsome face.

 

“As I said, it’s been a while. Fancy a chat?” Seokjin says suggestively, a short-lived smile that’s almost mocking climbing on his lips.

 

Namjoon remains silent, staring daggers right at Seokjin’s face, doing the jaw thing he always does where he grits his teeth together. Seokjin almost cracks a smile thinking about what was, but his mind has always been quick to snap him right back to the harsh, harsh reality.

 

“Sit down, Namjoon. We need to talk.”

 

“I don’t need to talk to you.” Namjoon snaps back. 

 

“Oh trust me,” Seokjin chuckles humorlessly, relaxing back on Namjoon’s couch. “You do.”

 

“The fucking audacity you must have to come here after everything,” Namjoon returns the chuckle, looking to the side briefly as he runs a hand in his already unkempt hair. “Get out while I'm being nice, Seokjin.”

 

The older’s patience starts to run thinner by the second. He gives Namjoon a roll of his eyes, looking down at his watch. He gets up from his seat, taking his sweet ass time until he stands eye to eye with the detective.

 

“You’re crossing plenty of lines,” Seokjin says lowly, a lazy look hiding the fire behind his eyes. “And I'm not exactly a free man. Sit down. I’ll say what I have to say and you won’t have to see me again.”

 

Namjoon looks at him for a while, trying to get anything out of him to latch on to ease the pain building in his chest. 

 

What are the odds of all of this, huh? Of his current best friend stumbling upon his old life, even without knowing, getting herself all dirtied up exactly the same way Taehyung did. She slips past his fingers, just like he did, and Namjoon loses yet another one.

 

He ran to Seoul to escape. He ran and left everything else behind, including who he once was. Only for everything to come wrapping around his neck once more, choking mercilessly.

 

Seokjin’s eyes look dead again, the way they were when they first met.

 

It’s so foreign now, looking at them like that.

 

“I’m not sitting down,” Namjoon tells him, taking a daring step towards the man in front of him. Venom drops past his lips. “You spit what you have right now and you fucking leave.”

 

The corner of Seokjin’s lips pull up in a little smirk that doesn’t reach his eyes. Namjoon raises his chin up, the few centimeters he has on Seokjin allowing him more confidence.

 

Seokjin nods, an impressed look plastered to his face. He shoves his hands in the pockets of his pants as a form of restriction. He doesn’t want to do something he will regret.

 

“You never know how to choose them, detective, do you?” Seokjin says, dropping his eyes between them for a second, before raising his head back up to stare into a pair of dragon eyes. Ones that flutter for a split second, and Seokjin knows that he hit the right spot. “You do know what would happen if you even tried to do something, hmm?”

 

“I’d like you to enlighten me.”

 

“You see, this time isn’t like the last. Park Jina is more of a headache than your Taehyungie was,” Seokjin states. He licks his lips, shrugging casually. “I happen to know how much she means to you.” He gets a hand out, and he places it on one of Namjoon’s shoulders, squeezing hard. “So you’re not gonna be the only one dropping dead if something happens. In fact, I’ll be a good dear friend and bring her to you, blue and lifeless, so you can say goodbye.”

 

Seokjin always had a way with words. They would send shivers racing down Namjoon’s spine, he sounds cold and lifeless. Maybe because Namjoon knows that Seokjin is a capable man, he’s seen it for himself before. 

 

A lump of worry grows in his brain, but not for his own life.

 

Namjoon cracks a smile of his own, mocking. “You wouldn’t.”

 

“Oh, I very much would. You don’t know how much that little bitch g—”

 

“You wouldn’t hurt me,” Namjoon cuts him off with a shake of his head, a knowing look pouring into Seokjin’s gaze. “Don’t kid yourself.”

 

“I guess there’s only one way to find out,” Seokjin lets his hand fall from Namjoon’s shoulder. “Try provoking me, Namjoon. It’s been a while since I had a  little fun.”

Notes:

ohohohoho *rubs hands evilly*
seokjin the big bad wolf agenda is in motion >:)
gosh its been so long that i forgot what i used to say in the end notes
BUT!! i hope this liddol chapter was worth the wait, im sorry again for all this time!! i’ll do my best to stay on track from now on<3
it’s gonna get exciting more and more from now on me is excited
big big big thanks to those of you who still comment and leave kudos❤️❤️
I hope you enjoyed this one!! i’ll see you soon with the next chapter<3

Chapter 13: tredici

Summary:

“I really don’t wanna do this.”

“Complaining won’t make it go away.”

“This is all your fault,” Jina mumbles grumpily. “I literally can’t do anything about it but complain.”

“I’m not gonna feel bad, if that’s what you’re aiming for.”

Notes:

*** SMUT WARNING IN THIS CHAPTER***

eheh im a lost cause now i dont even have an excuse anymore
well except from me being extremely burnt out lmao i didnt even have like more than 2k done for two weeks it was a mess
im trying i promise:( its a big ass chapter this time tho!!
i got a pretty solid plan of what i wanna do in the next two chapters so hopefully i’ll be able tof finish those quickly!!
i noticed i lost some readers and its completely my fault lol but thanks to those of you who still stick around 🥺🥺
your comments and kudos always, always push me to do better so dont forget to tell me what u think of this chapter<3
dont forget to follow me on twt at @EB0YSOPE for updates!!
now lets get to it!!

“Don’t we have to like… hold hands or something?”

 

“No.”

 

“Awh, boomer,” Hoseok rolls his eyes, leaning back on the wall of the elevator. “You don’t know how to play your part.”

 

“We don’t have to hold hands for her to think we’re dating, Hoseok,” Jina sighs, annoyance rolling off of the tip of her tongue easily. “I think she’s pretty convinced.”

 

“Well, she’s gonna be un-convinced if you stay six feet away from me like that,” Hoseok says, shoving his hands in his pockets as he narrows his eyes at her. “Do I smell bad or something?”

 

Jina stays quiet, her face in a deadpan as she keeps herself facing the elevator doors. She pretty much just wants to bang her head on it until she passes out to avoid this whole scenario from happening.

 

But she brought this upon herself. There’s no escape, now.

 

That is if she really doesn’t bang her head against the metal of the ascending elevator.

 

After she hung up on her mother in the car, the older woman proceeded to call again, insisting that ‘her boyfriend’ has dinner with them tonight, since he’s going home for the day anyways.

 

And Jina really, really isn’t looking forward to it.

 

She was ready to get an earful from her mom, take a shower to wash off the filth of the long day, then slide in bed with her Daeun for cuddles to sign off.

 

But, as always, Jung Hoseok has to butt in and ruin her very solid plans.

 

“At least wipe that expression off of your face, oh my god,” Hoseok exclaims. “You look like you hate my guts.”

 

“That’s because I do,” Jina nods, speaking in a matter-of-factly voice. She looks at Hoseok, who, again, rolls his eyes at her attitude. “I’m not a very good liar.”

 

“Now we both know one of those is a lie,” Hoseok sighs with a hint of teasing in his voice that happens to get on Jina’s nerves, because maybe he’s not wrong.

 

The rather loud ringing of the elevator announced their arrival to the penthouse she’s only been to once before. The heater is on, she feels it the moment she sets a foot outside the elevator. It only makes her wanna push Hoseok back inside the elevator and press the button to take him down so she can go to bed peacefully.

 

Jina leans on the wall right outside the elevator to kick off her shoes and push them to the wall, right next to the one she recognizes as her mother’s all while Hoseok does the same beside her. Hearing shuffling behind her, she peaks at Hoseok to see him slipping out of his coat to hang it on the rack stuck to the dark porcelain wall. Her gaze drops to the waterproof coat she had on the whole day, for some reason seeming to be hesitant as she lets it fall from her shoulders.

 

Hoseok grabs it almost thoughtlessly, and he hangs it next to his.

 

The blazer on his shoulders is a bit disheveled but he adjusts it right away. Hoseok is a few steps ahead of her as they walk through the hallway leading to the penthouse. With a glance back towards Jina, seeing the growing distance between them, he rolls his eyes with an audibly exhausted sigh and stops moving until she was next to him.

 

“I really don’t wanna do this.”

 

“Complaining won’t make it go away.”

 

“This is all your fault,” Jina mumbles grumpily, looking beyond the hallway to the glass wall overseeing the city from above. “I literally can’t do anything about it but complain.”

 

“I’m not gonna feel bad, if that’s what you’re aiming for,” Hoseok deadpans, hearing himself an eye roll from Jina. He hears footsteps nearing in distance, and Jina lets out a surprised yelp when he slips one of his hands into hers to drag her behind him. “Just follow my lead.”

 

They round the corner, hearing hurried footsteps nearing them quickly before a very eager Daeun appears from the direction of the kitchen. 

 

Hoseok notices her eyes drop to their linked hands, and her grin widens.

 

“You’re here!” The older woman says loudly, clasping her hands together at her chest.

 

Hoseok doesn’t let go of Jina’s hand as he stretches his other hand forwards to shake Daeun’s hand, definitely not expecting the older woman to swat his hand away playfully and bring him in for a hug. 

 

“It’s so good to see you, sweetheart.” She tells him, her grip is careful and not too tight. She pats him on his back and Hoseok continues to malfunction, the unexpected affection throwing him off guard. His free hand rises, hesitant to hug Daeun back, but she starts to let go. She holds him at an arm’s length, a fond smile on her face. “God, it’s been such a stressful couple of weeks.”

 

Jina looks down at their linked hands too, unable to process the series of events that just took place. The tightening of his grip once Daeun hugged him must’ve snapped Jina out of her trance. At the nervous smile he gives her mother, she looks up at him, but the nervousness is washed away as fast as it appeared.

 

“It has. I’m glad you two made it out safely,” Hoseok tells Daeun with an assuring nod, a gentle smile given to the older woman. 

 

His fingers are tight around Jina’s hand, knowing of the attempts she will be making to yank her hand away. He moves their hands behind his back after speaking and pulls Jina closer to him, so their connected hands are completely hidden behind him to keep Jina’s fidgeting out of her mother’s sight.

 

“Isn’t it good to see me too, or are you going to throw me away and adopt him instead?” Jina grabs Daeun’s attention cheekily, trying to pinch the skin between Hoseok’s thumb and index finger, and she can hear the almost inaudible hiss that managed to escape him. “It’s gonna be your loss, really. You’ll never find—Ah!!”

 

“Go shower,” Daeun tells her daughter off after the light spank that landed on her behind. “That smart mouth of yours, tsk.”

 

“This is no way to greet your child after two days of disappearance,” Jina grumbles, trying not to display the fact that someone is trying to crush her fingers to pieces. “Aren’t you supposed to go to the cafe? Why are you here early?”

 

“I wanted you to have actual food in your tummy,” Daeun tells Jina, and Jina can detect the softness beyond all the sass. “Thought I’d make you some home-cooked food today. Jung Hoseok-ssi, can you cook?”

 

Hoseok is startled at the sudden attention that’s thrown on him again. He lets out a chuckle. “Well, a bit of this and that.”

 

“Good!” Daeun smiles, big and cheery. She puts a hand on Jina’s shoulder. “I can use a hand while Jina freshens up.”

 

“Actually,” Hoseok looks down at Jina for some brief moments before he looks back up to her mother. “I’ll show her around for a bit. You can get started, Park Daeun-ssi. I'll be right behind you.”

 

Daeun nods and lets out a noise of approval as she turns around to head to the kitchen again. “I’ll be waiting, Jung Hoseok-ssi!”

 

The moment Daeun is no longer facing them, Jina forces one more attempt to break free from his hold, a deep scowl on her face at the failure of it. 

 

Hoseok glares at her for a few moments, checking to see if Daeun looked back at them, then he pulls Jina to the corridor at the far left corner across one of the living rooms of the wide-area with a hurried tug.

 

“Let go,” Jina grumbles lowly, struggling to catch up with Hoseok’s longer legs. She keeps her as low as she can, trying to escape out of his grasp. Once they were no longer in an exposed area, hidden with the walls of yet another hallway,  she stubbornly plants her feet to the ground. 

 

Jina pulls her hand back with all her might. She lets out a groan of frustration as she does so, now having a bit of freedom that they’re out of Daeun’s sight. “Let—No no no, wAIT”

 

Feeling Jina’s resisting tug, Hoseok lets a groan of his own go. He tugs her forwards with their connected hands, turning around to face her. He bends down to pull her off the ground and swiftly over one of his shoulders, ignoring her hushed protests.

 

“Hoseok,” Jina lets out, the sound a little choked. The position is awkward, resulting in tightness in her chest that fucking hurts. “Are you fucking kidding me?!” Jina whisper-yells, landing a harsh hit to the center of his back.

 

 Hoseok groans, his steps faltering only barely with a hand reaching out to the cold wall for support. 

 

He didn’t think it through, picking her up like that. Considering the ‘third hole punched into him’ as Seokjin liked to put it. 

 

“Put me down!”

 

At least he chose the shoulder away from the wound. Hoseok hisses at the feeling, both his hands wrapping around her legs to keep them still so she doesn’t accidentally kick him in the wrong place. He only got the stitches off this morning, a lot of people will be very pissed if he bursts open again. 

 

Including himself, but he doubts he’ll be able to scold Jina for it. 

 

Hoseok finally reaches the door furthest from where they were a few seconds ago, having to endure her endless fidgeting. He pushes the door open, trying to adjust the sack of potatoes on his shoulder in a more comfortable position that happens to not exist.

 

It smells empty inside. Almost like a hotel room with no signs of life detected, given that he hasn’t been up here in a considerable amount of time. The curtains are drawn closed and the lights are off, so Hoseok makes sure to turn on the light switch before he makes his way to the bed that’s pushed up to the wall by the center of the room.

 

As carefully as he can, Hoseok bends down and attempts to slide Jina down instead of throwing her on the bed, now aware of her own little sounds of pain. He holds her by the waist, not balancing the weight enough as he places her down on the bed. He gets pulled down along with her, and he has little to no time to put his elbows on the mattress beside her head to deny them any more pain.

 

Hoseok manages to pull a knee up on the bed that eventually helps him not to crash right on top of her, leaving a hair of space between them that Hoseok almost gives up on. 

 

A series of mixed noises of pain fill the empty room. Jina managed to pull a hand up to brace herself, which is now grasping the material of Hoseok’s blazer tightly. She bites down on her lower lip to mute herself, throwing her head back against the mattress with a little moan that still escaped past her.

 

“I didn’t… think this through,” Hoseok pants, Jina barely processes the fact that he’s leaning his forehead on her shoulder until seconds later. “Are you okay?”

 

“Not really,” Jina replies breathlessly. “Are you?”

 

He nods against her shoulder, trying to inhale a calming breath that forces Jina’s now-familiar scent up his nostrils, mixed with a little dust that almost has him coughing. “Lemme just… catch my breath, yeah?”

 

Jina is pretty much frozen underneath him. Like a wooden log.

 

Chest to chest, Jina swears she can almost feel his heartbeat if she focuses just enough. Hoseok gradually relaxes, a sigh of relief fanning the side of Jina’s neck. The detective doesn’t know if the pain in her ribs really subsided or she’s just too focused on something else entirely, but she’s thankful. She only started feeling better. It would’ve made her actually kill Hoseok right then and there.

 

But it doesn’t hurt that much. Maybe because Hoseok was too careful with her than himself.

 

Hoseok licks his lips, inhaling one last breath before he raises his head a little, finally face to face with the woman underneath him. 

 

And to say that that breath was knocked right out of him would be an un derstatement.

 

Jina’s cheeks are covered with a shade of endless redness, unlike all the other times. Instead of a subtle brush of pink across each cheek, they burn a bright crimson and Hoseok always loved seeing her all flushed because of him. Only then does he notice the hand keeping him close by his blazer.

 

Jina swallows. She’s unable to look anywhere else but the pair of eyes so close to her, so she sees the look in his eyes again. 

 

Hoseok’s eyes wander over her features. Takes his time doing it, like he’s painting an image of her in his head. The shape of her eyes, the tiredness underneath them. The irises are dilated, only leaving a bit of color at the edges, and she doesn’t take them off of him. Her nose is red too, like someone took a paintbrush and swiped it from an ear to another, dripping in red. 

 

Once his focus drops on where he anticipates the most, her lips move.

 

“What happened to the hand-holding?” Jina lets out breathily. Slow and quiet. 

 

“I have other ideas, now,” Hoseok replies right away, same tone and volume. One of his hands moves from beside her head slowly, and he is always amazed by how she reacts to every touch. Even if the reaction is almost nonexistent, subtle, he can still feel it under his skin when he lets his hand gently cup one of her heated cheeks. “I don’t know if you’ll like them.”

 

Boom, boom, boom. Jina hopes Hoseok can’t feel how rapid her heart is as she tries to keep her breath steady. 

 

Everything is quiet around them, Jina can’t feel nor see anything but him. The whole world is shut out, leaving them in a headspace that feels too intoxicating to break out of. Addicting, leaving them wanting more, more, more.

 

Hoseok can’t help but trail his hand down her face slowly, so, instead of cupping her cheek, his fingers brace her jaw, leaving his thumb to trail to her lips. Jina tilts her head back,  letting his thumb trap her lower lip underneath it so her mouth falls open only barely.

 

“I just might,” Jina tells him, breathless, eating in the reaction she broke out of him. 

 

Hoseok exhales, it’s a bit shaky. Like he’s holding himself back. He swipes his thumb across her lower lips at a painfully slow speed, happy with the control he has over her head from her jaw. He tilts it back again, lowering himself only slightly, and he wants nothing more than to know how Jina tastes like. 

 

Jina’s chest rises and falls deeply, their breaths meeting and mixing mid-way oh so intoxicatingly, only luring both of them even more into each other. 

 

Jina’s other hand moves subtly from underneath him, and Hoseok only notices it when he feels it on the skin of his neck, trailing back seducingly to his nape. She pulls him closer, wanting to feel more of him. 

 

Needy. She no longer has her actions on a tight leech.

 

Their lips almost meet at that, but Hoseok shifts his head to the side ever so slightly, so his lips plant a kiss to the corner of her mouth instead. Jina whines lowly, and the sound goes straight to Hoseok’s cock. He leaves another kiss on her jaw, then another to the junction where her jaw and neck meet, to which Jina sighs loudly.  

 

Hoseok can already feel his pants tighten at the crotch, he too losing the bit of control he had on his body. The little ragged breaths that leave Jina’s lips at each kiss are filling his head like clouds of smoke, and he wants more. He needs more.

 

“Please,” Jina whines quietly, the sound so pretty meeting Hoseok’s ears. He can feel her lips move under his thumb. Hoseok tilts her head to the side, exposing as much of her neck as he can from the layers she’s wearing. He brings his hand down and pulls the turtle neck down with his index finger just enough for his lips to taste her one more time. The way she arches into him doesn’t help his hardening cock. “Hoseok…”

 

“Yes?” He whispers against her neck. He’s fighting the urge not to mark the pretty skin there, settling for gentle, open-mouthed kisses. 

 

Something burns hotter into Jina at his tone. A little mumble that she can feel on her skin. She feels something hard pressing against her own crotch, and she wants to tease him for getting hard with little to no action, but the hand that grabs her thigh to wrap around his torso shuts her up.

 

He chose the side away from his wound, even though he barely feels it at this point. “Please what?”

 

Jina stays quiet, burning redder underneath him.

 

She doesn’t know. She doesn’t know what she’s begging for, but oh god doesn’t she need it so bad.

 

Hoseok brings his face into the view again, leaving her neck unattended. Jina’s eyes look a little dazed. The hand at his nape slowly brushes through his hair, and she’s pulling him closer again. She wants him close. 

 

“Kiss me,” Jina breathes out desperately. “Please. Kiss me.”

 

“Weren’t you refusing to hold my hand just a few minutes ago, baby?” A little smirk pulled the corner of his lips back. His hand starts to move up and down her thigh leisurely, gently squeezing and kneading the skin through her jeans. “What happened?”

 

Jina whimpers in reply to the teasing. His touches send endless goosebumps through her skin, that she shivers. She, yet again, has no reply for him. 

 

“Want me to kiss you?” He asks, the smirk reducing into a ghost of it on his face. He pulls her closer, and the slight friction he got out of the movement almost has him moaning. She stays quiet, trying to shy away from eye contact. Hoseok flows his hand down her thigh, this time so low that his hand is grabbing her ass. “Hmm?”

 

Jina nods, leaving her desperation loud and clear for Hoseok to take in. 

 

“Fuck, Jina…” He sighs, leaning his forehead against hers. He flutters his eyes closed for a few seconds, and Jina follows shortly. “You make it so fucking difficult to say no to you.”

 

How did he ever think he can do as much as hurt her, let alone go as far as killing her? How did he ever think that he can get out of this unscathed?

 

What the fuck has she done to him?

 

Hoseok finally leans in. He’s as desperate as she is, if not even more. “What am I going to do with you, hmm?”

 

“Jung Hoseok-ssi, what’s taking you so long?”

 

They both flinch violently at the sound that echoes from distance, both their heads snapping to where the door was left ajar.

 

“Fuck,” Hoseok jumps off of the bed, long strides towards the door. He hesitates before popping his head out to check if she’s close, but her voice sounded too distant to have heard them. And just as he thought, she isn’t anywhere near them when he checks to see if she’s there. “I’ll be right there, Park Daeun-ssi! Give me five minutes!”

 

Hoseok waits for the older woman’s “Okay! Take your time!” before he quietly pushes the door closed, making sure he turns the lock just in case. Then, he turns back to the woman spiraled out on his old bed.

 

“She heard us,” Jina’s eyes are wide, now sitting up straight. “Fuck, she heard us. I’m done for.”

 

“She probably didn’t, calm down,” He walks back to her, watching as she hides her face in her hands. Hesitantly, Hoseok reaches out a hand to her shoulder. He gives it a reassuring squeeze. “She sounded far away. Besides, the walls are thick here. I don’t think she heard anything.”

 

Jina shakes her head, face still hidden.

 

“She didn’t hear us, I promise. We weren’t being that loud, anyway.” He tells her, giving her shoulder a little shake as he attempts to pull her hand away from her face. “It’s my fault. I forgot the door open.”

 

Jina whines childishly, looking up at Hoseok only briefly before letting herself fall back on the bed. She grimaces a little, but it looks like her rib didn’t hurt that much. “I hate it here.”

 

“Get your shit together and go shower,” Hoseok chuckles, endeared. He fixes his clothes, but there’s an itch that he can’t scratch in the back of his head.

 

“Wait,” Jina gets up on one elbow, a little frown on her face. “Where are you going?”

 

Hoseok gives her a weird look. “To help your mom?”

 

Jina’s eyes trail down, pursing her lips. “Like that?”

 

His gaze follows hers, and there it is.

 

The itch.

 

His dick is half-hard and is very visible in his pants.

 

“Oh.”

 

“Mhmm.”

 

“This is awkward.”

 

“A bit, yeah.”

 

“Well, haha,” Hoseok tries to drown his embarrassment, but it is very clear in the atmosphere around them. He claps his hands once, gesturing to the door as he mentally yeets himself out of existence. “I’ll go take care of that then go help your mom.”

 

Jina sits up, leaning her hand on the mattress as she watches him turn towards the door once more. Once his hand meets the cold metal of the lock, Jina opens her mouth absent-mindedly. 

 

“I can help if you want.”

 

Then they both freeze.

 

Did I really just fucking say that? Jina thinks.

 

“What?” Hoseok turns, not sure if he heard what he just heard.

 

Jina almost cringes at herself, almost doubles over in embarrassment, but fuck it. They’ve gone so far, and although nothing of what she wants can happen right now, she still doesn’t think she’s had enough of him just yet. 

 

And maybe she has a thing or two in mind for him for being such a tease.

 

“I can help you,” Jina repeats, mind more present this time. “Only if you want, of course.”

 

He wants that. Fuck, he wants nothing more than that.

 

“Are you sure?” Hoseok asks, voice hesitant. He tries to read through her, if she’s uncomfortable or just offering half-heartedly. But he doesn’t find anything as she stands up, eyes leveled with his. “You really don’t have to.”

 

“I’m sure,” Jina tells him. Assertive, confident. The confidence he’s always seen on her. “Let me help you.”

 

She’s really gonna be the end of him, won’t she?

 

Hoseok wants to refuse, it’s so wrong. This whole situation is wrong. He originally planned to scold her for not wanting to act friendly enough for her mom not to suspect anything, what the fuck was he thinking?

 

What the fuck was she thinking, whimpering and whining his name like that? 

 

This is wrong, but the thought of it being so wrong only pushes him a little more over the edge.

 

Having those lips so full, wrapped around him, it’s a sight he’s craved to see for so long.

 

Hoseok runs a hand down his face. “Are you a hundred percent sure?”

 

Jina nods once, still assertive, not showing even a bit of hesitation.

 

Before Hoseok can think about it any longer, he walks closer, grabs Jina by her elbow, and pulls her to the closed door to the right side of the bed. His steps are hurried and eager, his bones vibrating with sudden excitement rushing through him.

 

He still makes sure to turn on the lights inside before he pulls her inside, leaving them dim. Jina notices his gesture for the second time, and something warm and soft spreads in the back of her brain, but she is too focused on other things to pay it any mind.

 

The bathroom is huge, almost as big as her room back home. The tiles are dark just like the rest of the penthouse and the lights are dim and warm. Jina only then realizes that this is the master bedroom, Hoseok’s old room.

 

Perhaps she’s been in his rooms more times than she should have.

 

Hoseok, once again, pushes the door shut and makes sure to turn the lock. He turns around, almost too hurriedly, and his stomach twists at the view.

 

Jina has taken off her jacket, and is in the progress of removing her turtle neck sweater over her shoulder, leaving her in a dark tank top that exposes way too much cleavage for Hoseok not to go insane just a little.

 

“What are you doing?” He questions, and Jina drinks in his breathlessness.

 

“Free movement,” She replies, carelessly tossing her sweater on the tiles. The woman reaches out, pulling Hoseok closer by his blazer. “You said five minutes. Gotta hurry.”

 

In a split second, Hoseok finds himself pushed against a nearby counter with Jina trapping him there. Without even having to think, Hoseok’s hand snakes around her and he pulls her flush against him. He has little to no time to prepare himself for the pair of lips that start to attack the exposed area of his neck. 

 

Butterflies take over Jina’s abdomen at the harsh tug towards him, she almost moans at it.

 

Fuck, is she that deprived?

 

Jina makes sure not to bite or mark, now the thought of her mother being just a few rooms over present in her head. She kisses below his ear, all the way down to his throat, and the way Hoseok is holding her so close drives her a little nuts with every passing second.

 

She moves her hands underneath his blazer, brushing them up to his shoulders, then she pushes the material off. 

 

The sound of it meeting the tiled floor is almost unheard. Their senses are too busy with the focus they have on each other that everything else is easily neglected. 

 

One hand pulls two buttons from his shirt apart, while the other is trailing softly downwards. She continues unbuttoning, and Hoseok just watches. 

 

He’s letting her do whatever she wants, which is unusual for him to do. He always likes to be in charge, but it looks like Jina does too, being a wild mix of small whimpers and a bit of confidence and control. 

 

It’s a challenge he’d like to take, but not now. Now, he’s just desperate and as needy as she is, and he likes having her touching him silly like that.

 

Jina frees his shirt from his pants when she’s done unbuttoning it, and they both look down at the way Jina’s hands slide across his stomach, and to his sides. The coldness of her skin forces more heat to coil in Hoseok’s gut.

 

But one of her hands suddenly slides down where he needs her the most, and Hoseok can’t stop his vocals this time.

 

“Fuck,” He groans, eyes zeroed on the grip of her hand around him. She’s putting just the perfect amount of pressure, sliding her hand down, then up, then down again.

 

“You’re so hard,” Jina chuckles lowly. Hoseok looks up at her, only to realize that she’s been looking at him the entire time. She keeps her hand moving as she closes the little distance between them, her other hand sliding up from his stomach and across his chest, then it settles on the side of his neck. A hint of a teasing smile is on her lips, and Hoseok fights the urge to bend her over and fuck her senseless right then and there. “Did I do that?”

 

“You did,” Hoseok replies right away, voice deep, husky, and Jina can feel the vibration of his throat under her hand. He looks down at her lips as he talks. “So you better put this pretty mouth of yours to work before we run out of time.”

 

Jina chuckles once more, feeling his cock twitch in her hand when she kisses down his neck again. This time, she kisses all the way down, leaving wet traces all the way from his chest to his stomach, then right before his belt. 

 

By that time, Jina’s already on her knees, and Hoseok decides to focus just enough to keep this view in his head for times when he’s alone in the dark, needy for anything to fuck into. 

 

Jina lets go of his erection to unbuckle his belt, pulling at it with her teeth for extra speed. She looks up at him, certainly enjoying the fact that she has all of his attention. The detective raises herself on her knees a bit, maintaining eye contact. A hand flows up to his right side gently, and she tugs his still buttoned pants down just enough for her to be able to plant a sweet, slow kiss beneath his healing wound.

 

Suddenly, all of this feels way too intimate for Hoseok. Reminds him that this is wrong, that she shouldn’t be treating him like this, but it’s too addicting. 

 

He wants more. He needs more.

 

He needs her.

 

Jina quickly snaps him out of his trance when she unbuttons his pants, tugging his boxers down along with it enough for her to be able to wrap her hands around his length with no barriers. She’s a little surprised at the erection, he is almost fully hard, and boy ain’t that man packing.

 

Of fucking course he is. She doesn’t think she’s ever thought otherwise.

 

Makes her want to devour him whole.

 

The coldness of Jina’s hands adds more to the sparks of pleasure igniting within him. He groans, putting his hands back on the counter to support his soon-to-be wobbling knees.

 

Jina pumps it dry in her hand a few times, skilled hands moving with a pressure that is just right until he is fully hard. It didn’t need much anyway, she’s already been driving him insane enough. 

 

Hoseok’s breathing deeply, watching closely as she wraps a hand around the base. Her hand doesn’t wrap around it all the way, and Hoseok finds it endearing. She lowers her head a bit, looking Hoseok right in the eye as she plants an open-mouthed kiss right above where her hand is. Wet, warm.

 

Like she’s giving him a free trial of what’s about to come.

 

She leaves another trail of kisses all the way up to the tip but leaves it unattended nonetheless. Hoseok groans in frustration. He has to let her do what she wants, because once he’s in control, he doesn’t think he can be gentle. He’s walking on eggshells, careful. Too careful for his own pleasure, but he has no other choice.

 

If it were up to him, he would’ve already been fucking her mouth. 

 

 He likes going slow on his partners, so slow that they are driven insane only halfway through, so he can't deny there’s a certain burn to the slowness. Like he’s tasting his own medicine.

 

Jina tightens her fist at the base of his cock a little, and Hoseok’s mouth falls open as he watches her lick a fat strip up to the head, leaving him no time to react before she has it in her mouth.

 

She pouts her lips around the tip of his cock prettily, looking up at him to make sure he’s watching. She sucks on it, pushing his cock into her mouth a little more before she backs away with an audible pop.

 

He’s breathing heavily, sweat breaking past his hairline. Her hair keeps getting in the way, he wants to reach there and pull it away, wants to guide her mouth on his dick, but he can’t. He might be pushing a boundary if he does so, so he keeps his hands to himself instead.

 

Jina pumps his cock a couple more times, getting it all wet and slick with a mix of precum and her own saliva. Hoseok doesn’t try to suppress his moan when she evilly rubs her palm on the tip. 

 

He throws his head back, something akin to her name mumbled from his lips, and Jina smirks to herself. Her hand moves sensually over the head again, then she flows it down to the base.

 

She wastes no time into taking him into her mouth again, this time deeper. She stays like that for a couple of seconds, enjoying the heaviness against her tongue, before she starts to bob her head slowly.

 

He’s big, long too. Taking him down her throat would be a bit of a challenge, but she wants to hear more of the delicious sounds he’s producing.

 

She’s not satisfied, he’s not touching her anymore. That harsh pull against him left her wanting more of it, more of that kind of touch. 

 

The greedy type, needy. 

 

So she takes matters into her own hands instead. The hand she previously had massaging one of his thighs trails up to find his own. It’s grabbing the cold counter harshly, knuckles tight. She lets her fingers wrap around it, and he looks down at their connected skin. 

 

Jina tugs at his hand, so he lets go of the counter. Her mouth slows down even more, seemingly distracted as she guides his hand to the back of her head, and Hoseok feels like he’s about to collapse.

 

She makes sure to make his fingers run through her hair, wordlessly telling Hoseok to take control of her head before she lets go of his hand to return it to where it belonged.

 

Hoseok has to be dreaming. There’s no fucking way this is real, but the moan that erupts through Jina’s very full mouth when he gives a testing yank to her hair is very much real. Hoseok lets out a moan of his own, feeling the vibration of her voice around his throbbing cock.

 

“Shit,” He lets out, eyes on the pretty lips skillfully moving on him. 

 

With each bob, Jina tries to take more of him. The tight grip at the base of his cock is released, fingers trailing down to massage his balls instead. Hoseok groans, fingers tightening on her hair, pulling so hard that she feels her eyes water from the burn, but it burns in all the right places. 

 

She leans back for air, and a thin string of saliva still connects them. Hoseok’s other hand joins the one in her hair. He pulls back the hair that’s been annoyingly tickling her cheek with every movement, gentle fingers gathering her hair to the back of her head. 

 

Jina looks up at him, teary eyes and swollen lips on full display. “Good?” 

 

“So good,” Hoseok lets out, voice rough and low. She pumps him with a hand and continues massaging his balls with the other. His cock is flushed, veiny, almost painfully hard. Hoseok knows he’s close, and his view from up there is making it so hard to keep this going for much longer. “So fucking good, Jina. So fucking good.”

 

“Good,” Jina says, a pleased look on her flushed face. 

 

She slows down the movement of her hands, watching as Hoseok’s face twists in an expression of frustration. She feels his hands tighten around her hair, earning herself what she’d like to think to be a warning tug at her poor scalp. It tilts her head up, and she stops moving her hands altogether.

 

“Jina…” Hoseok hisses through gritted teeth.

 

“Yes?” Jina whispers. She smiles up at him, wicked eyes teary and so, so pretty. “What do you want me to do?”

 

“Finish what you fucking started.”

 

“And why would I do that?” Jina asks, and Hoseok groans. She chuckles, moving her thumb over the slit on the tip of his cock, feeling way too good about the tremor that runs through his body at the touch. “You didn’t kiss me when I asked.”

 

Hoseok tries to thrust in her fist instead, but it’s tight. She keeps him still, and Hoseok really is having a hard time keeping himself in check. He throws his head back, trying to erase all the things he can do to her right now out of his head. He needs to go at her pace, can’t fuck it up, so he waits and takes what she gives him.

 

He can’t believe he’s letting this happen to him. Willingly. 

 

“But because I’m a good person, I’m gonna let you have what you want.” Jina continues, and Hoseok directs his gaze back to hers again. The way she’s sitting, thighs apart as she rests her ass on her feet, looking up at him like that, it all has him almost cumming in her hands pathetically. “You can use me all you want.”

 

It has to be a fucking dream.

 

“What?”

 

Jina brings the tip closer to her lips, and she mouths the words over it. “Use me all you want.”

 

“A-Are you sure?” He asks, he has to ask. He doesn’t think he can control himself once he lets go. “I can be a little rough. Don’t…” He pauses, inhaling a deep breath when she lets her tongue swirl around the tip of his very, very full cock. “Don’t wanna make you uncomfortable.”

 

A victorious smirk breaks on her glossy lips. “I’m not gonna repeat myself.”

 

Hoseok’s about to go fucking feral.

 

Jina takes him in her mouth once more, sinking down, down, down. She relaxes her jaw, allowing more of him easily down her mouth. Having to remind herself to breathe through her nose, she flutters her eyes closed. There’s a slight pressure from the back of her head, pushing and guiding her down Hoseok’s cock; all the way until her nose bumps on the skin of his pubic area.

 

She opens her eyes, then, red and teary, and Hoseok almost cries out. 

 

He keeps her there, his mouth falling open with a loud moan rolling effortlessly out of it. She keeps looking at him through wet lashes, drooling pathetically around him, soaking her pants and the collar of her top. When she tries to make a sound, the vibration chokes the air out of Hoseok’s lungs. 

 

Her eyes squint and a tear escapes past her waterline.

 

So, so pretty. Perfect like this on her knees, mouth stuffed, lips so full of him.

 

She doesn’t try to push against him, doesn’t try to pull away even when she chokes. He pulls her back by her hair, harsh and hurried, sweat dripping down his neck. She gasps loudly for air, more tears escaping from the corner of her eyes.

 

“You okay?” Hoseok has to make sure.

 

Jina nods rapidly, seeming almost as eager as he is. After a couple of deep breaths, she takes him in her mouth, except she has absolutely no control over the movement of her head this time.

 

Hoseok keeps her head steady, cock heavy against her tongue. “Gonna fuck your pretty mouth, okay baby?”

 

Jina moans, she’s too far gone. The pet name rolls off his tongue so naturally. She feels him throb in her mouth, and she’s pretty sure she’s not doing so well down there either.

 

Hoseok takes the failed attempt of a nod as his sign, and he slowly pushes himself down her throat again, a helplessly loud moan echoing in the vacant bathroom. Her jaw relaxes once more and he hits the back of her throat, Hoseok feels high. Nothing else is on his mind, just a pure, raw need for pleasure that only lays in Jina’s hands.

 

“So good,” Hoseok pulls back and begins to thrust in her mouth as she looks at him helplessly. “So fucking pretty for me, Jina. You...You should see yourself like this.”

 

The way her eyes roll back and flutter close drives him insane. He’s shaking, thrusts soon becoming sloppy and messy, a filthy sound filling their ears. 

 

“I’m close,” Hoseok mumbles, breathless and eager. Jina gags on his cock, fisting the material of his open shirt in her hand. His grip is tight on her hair as he chases his orgasm that seems to be so close, tightening his whole body like a string. “Where should I—”

 

She pulls him closer, eyes snapping open. She lets her mouth fall open when he pulls back just a little, sticking her tongue out hungrily.

 

And Hoseok is so fucking lucky. He’s so fucking lucky to have her like this, to see her like this.

 

“You’re driving me nuts,” Hoseok growls, harshly thrusting back between her filthy lips, and Jina abruptly meets him halfway. They keep this pace for a few more seconds as Hoseok’s moans fill the bathroom, mixed with the wet sound of Jina’s drooling mouth being used like there’s no tomorrow. 

 

Hoseok’s body is tight, tight, tight, and he tries to enjoy this just for a few more moments. “Fuckfuckfuckfuck--”

 

His vision flashes white, and he lets go with a rumbling groan. Jina keeps bobbing her head, working him through his rather intense orgasm that leaves his body slack, and almost into oversensitivity. 

 

A string of cum after the other meets Jina’s tongue as she slows down her speed gradually, still feeling Hoseok’s cock throb and twitch harshly in her mouth. The grip on her hair loosens, but it stays in her hair nonetheless as she cleans him off.

 

And Hoseok just watches. He watches as she sucks him clean, shuddering and moaning from the oversensitivity.

 

The moment his dick is out of her mouth, Jina swallows it all down.

 

She fucking swallows and his cock twitches in her hand once more.

 

When Jina finally looks up at him, Hoseok’s shaking fingers pull her up to her feet with one intention in mind. 

 

He crashes his lips onto hers hungrily, and the sound she lets out almost has him hardening again. She melts into his arms, the way she does, pulling him closer. He has one hand wrapped around her back while the other stays in her hair, fingers massaging the burn out of her scalp as she moves her lips along with his just as hungrily.

 

He can taste himself on her tongue as it dances with his, and it feels so pleasing. Like a mark, like she belongs to him.

 

Fuck, he wishes she could belong to him.

 

Jina has one hand on the side of his neck while the other messes up his already unkempt hair, craving more of him as if what just happened isn’t enough. It’s wrong, whatever the fuck they just did. It’s wrong and she should be keeping herself as far away from him as possible from now on, but every little touch, every sound coming from him, it all leaves her wanting more.

 

Leaves her wanting him.

 

Hoseok pulls back for air, but it doesn’t last long when he finds Jina chasing after his lips. The hand in her hair trails down and finds a new place on one of her breasts. He feels the material of her bra under his touch and she moans when he squeezes, so pretty. Always so pretty.

 

Soon, he feels one of her hands wrap around the back of his, intertwining their fingers together. She pulls back, looking so fucking ruined. “Wait...wait.”

 

Did he do something wrong?

 

Jina pulls their hands up, letting them settle at the base of her neck. Hooded eyes pour into his, and for a few moments, Hoseok swears that no one else exists but them.

 

“We can’t do this,” Jina grumbles, voice husky and corrupted. “Not now. It’s definitely been more than five minutes.”

 

Hoseok’s harshly brought back to reality again. He licks his lips, devouring whatever’s left of her there. 

 

He leans his forehead against hers. Their chests rise and fall simultaneously, and Hoseok’s thumb finds Jina’s pulse on the side of her neck. 

 

She keeps their fingers tangled, gripping tightly like he’d disappear if she lets go. She wants to stay like this for more, wants to stay close to him, in his arms like this. Jina didn’t know he would be so addicting. 

 

She didn’t know he’d hold her like this, didn’t know he would drive at 3 am, wounded and sleepless, just to make sure she was safe.

 

As wrong as it feels, it feels good in all the right places.

 

Soon, their breaths start going back to normal, but both of them somehow end up feeling needier. It’s mutual, the feeling. They both know it is, but damn them if they admit it aloud.

 

Hoseok reaches up to her lips with his other hand, running his thumb across it to swipe the shine away. “Let’s get you to shower, then. Hmm?”

 

Jina simply nods, finding it difficult to completely let go of him. She untangles their fingers, taking a hesitant step back. 

 

Hoseok’s hands drop to his sides when she completely lets go, giving him her back instead. He stuffs his oversensitive cock back in his pants and buttons it quickly, leaving his belt unbuckled for now.

 

Jina stands a couple of feet away looking like a lost puppy, for some reason unable to look at him. She shivers at the sudden loss of touch that had previously been keeping her warm, and Hoseok takes notice of the way she hugs herself.

 

He steps forwards, closing the distance between them again to place one of his hands to the small of her back, urging her forwards. 

 

The shower is fucking huge, cornered at the far end of the eide bathroom. The shower head is tall, Jina doubts she can reach it even on her tippy toes, and there is a whole glass wall to one side, once again, overlooking the city from above. 

 

Once they were close enough, Hoseok leaves her side and opens the transparent glass door to step inside.

 

He turns on the water, the sound immediately filling the achingly quiet area. It takes him a few more seconds of silence to balance the temperature with one hand on the tab stuck to the wall whilst the other is steady under the water.

 

After successfully avoiding getting himself soaked, Hoseok steps back, giving her a gentle nudge forwards as he walks back to where they were not so long ago, shuffling with something.

 

Jina feels lost, oblivious of what needs to be done in a situation so foreign like this one. 

 

It isn't her first time doing something like this, this isn’t even half of what has happened between her and complete strangers for a quick fix before. 

 

But somehow, something feels different with Hoseok. Something foreign, especially with the way he’s treating her afterwards. 

 

He comes back to her side with a couple of towels. There is a porcelain counter right outside the shower with a couple of unlit candles accompanied by a few smaller, rolled, nude colored towels that look like they haven’t been touched in ages, and Hoseok places the towels he brought next to them. 

 

Jina still has her arms wrapped around herself, and it looks like all the confidence she was radiating not so long ago was dropped. The sudden switch in the atmosphere makes the muscles in Hoseok’s body tense up.

 

“I’ll leave you some of my old clothes outside for now, you can change out of them later.”  Hoseok, too, feels a little lost as to what would be a good move to do, something that can wipe his growing guilt away. Jina nods at his words, drifting her gaze to the flowing shower. “Don’t judge the strawberry shower gel.”

 

That finally succeeds in making her crack a smile, eyes shifting to look for the obnoxiously pink bottle that’s way too easily spotted. When she returns her head forwards again, Hoseok has stepped closer. 

 

He licks his lips, something unspoken lingering silently between them. Raising a hand, he lets it settle on her bare bicep. 

 

Something else has him irritated too. Something that’s crawling from the back of his head all the way to the front, settling under a big spotlight as Jina looks up at him. 

 

He wants to stay, he realizes. He wants to take care of her, doesn’t want her to feel like she was just used and thrown to the side. 

 

Because that wasn’t his intention. He never even had an intention to begin with. Everything happened so quickly, he didn’t even have enough time to think of the consequences.

 

But he doesn't know what she feels about him staying either. Maybe something like this would make her uncomfortable. Repel her, even. 

 

He feels like some progress was made here. He doesn’t know what happened, but he’s certain something shifted. 

 

Not sure for the best or worst, though.

 

“I can stay if you want,” Hoseok tells Jina, voice soft. He brings her closer, a hand reaching up to smother her hair down. “Not to do something or…something. Just—“

 

“You don’t have to,” Jina gives him a tight lipped smile, but it’s not forced. He’d like to think so, anyway. “I’ll be quick. You should go.”

 

Something falters in his expression for a split-second, Jina can see it, but he nods. He pulls her close, hand shifting to caress her cheek, and he presses his lips to the corner of her mouth in a gentle kiss. “I’ll be waiting outside, then.”

 

His hand falls from her face and he steps away.

 

Jina almost reaches out for him again but she hugs herself tighter instead.

 

Taking a step closer to the shower, Jina turns her back to him. She pulls her shirt over her head and lets it fall to the ground aimlessly. Hoseok moves from behind her, quite thumps of his feet getting further and further away as she tries to test the water casually with her hands.

 

It’s warm, a perfect temperature to help her feel less shitty from the sudden burst of loneliness that tangled itself in her brain, sending goosebumps all over her half-naked figure. 

 

She can’t ask him to stay, not now. Besides the fact that her mother is waiting outside, Jina wouldn’t trust herself around him at a time like this without looking more vulnerable than she already feels.

 

The past four days happened too fast. She doesn’t even think that she processed half of the events that happened just yet.

 

She looks behind her, shoulders heavy and bare. 

 

Hoseok’s picking up his blazer from the ground with a grimace. He holds it in one arm and unlocks the door with the other, and only when he closes the door after his exit that Jina lets out the breath locked in her chest.

 

She leans down, a hand reaching out for support on the cold surface of the shower door. Jina sits down on the floor, the sound of the water flowing echoing behind her as she leans her back on the glass wall. 

 

The rapid sound is not helping with the cloudiness of her thoughts, and Jina feels like her head is about to explode.

 

What the fuck did they just do?

Now, having to walk out there and help Daeun like he didn’t just fuck her daughter’s mouth is more difficult than Hoseok thought it would be. 

 

He thought they were suspiciously late, but when he checked the time on his phone the moment he left Jina in the bathroom, barely 17 minutes had passed. It was a relief, but the awkwardness of having to behave normally has him held at gunpoint.

 

Hoseok is a good liar, it wouldn’t be much of a problem to pretend nothing happened, as if his mind isn’t screaming at him to turn around and go back to Jina.

 

It won’t be that big of a deal. He’ll just go out, help the woman out with some potential small talk until Jina comes back out.

 

Now that, that would be a problem.

 

Something snapped in him earlier in that bathroom, he can barely think straight anymore. Jina is easily the only thing on his mind, and he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to control the way he behaves around her anymore.

 

That is if there has been any control in the past.

 

The moment he rounds the corner to the kitchen and his eyes fall on Daeun, he feels like a schoolboy who just got caught with erotic magazines under his mattress.

 

Not that this ever happened to him, he doesn’t know how that would feel. But he guesses it’s similar to what he saw in the movies.

 

Even though Daeun smiles brightly at him, showing no signs of judgment or suspicion. It’s a relief, but it turns out it’s a task that’s a tad more difficult than he planned.

 

What even is working his way anymore? 

 

The older woman asks him what took him so long, to which Hoseok replied that they had gotten distracted. Which isn’t exactly a lie, and Hoseok is thankful that she didn’t ask any more questions about the matter.

 

He silently hopes that she won’t catch on anything as he puts some water in the kettle and starts to prepare a cup of tea with honey.

 

“I think she caught a cold,” Hoseok tries, face scrunching as he keeps his back to Daeun. He puts the tea bag in a mug he randomly found, taking a deep breath before he looks back at her. “It was raining all day today.”

 

“That brat,” Daeun rolls her eyes, cutting what seems to be green onion in front of her. “She barely takes care of herself. It’s always a pain.” She goes on, briefly looking up at Hoseok before resuming her task. He turns his back to her again when the kettle ticks to pour the hot liquid into the empty mug. “Always getting too distracted with everything else then comes complaining about how lazy she is to tidy her room.”

 

It’s hard to picture something so mundane, but it makes Hoseok chuckle when he sees it. He puts the kettle back in its place and reaches  for the honey he spotted nearby. “She doesn’t seem like that type of person.”

 

“Don’t be fooled, darling,” Daeun laughs. Hoseok turns around after putting the steaming mug to the side to cool down, leaning back on the counter to look at the older woman. “She might have a big mouth on her but she’s a baby behind closed doors. It’s a mystery to me how she can be so serious at work.”

 

In a way, Hoseok can kind of see that. That whole day they spent together made Hoseok feel like he was meeting a new person altogether, but it didn’t feel deceiving. 

 

She’s not lying to people about who she is, Hoseok knows that Jina isn’t one for faking a personality.

 

But she’s human. Humans are vulnerable sometimes, they have to be. 

 

He knows that, yet, look at him. 

 

It’s ironic.

 

Hoseok just stays quiet, a gentle smile falling gradually off of his face as he stares into nothingness. Daeun seems to notice that he’s deep in thought, and soon enough, he was no longer smiling. 

 

The older woman puts down the knife. She places her hands down on the middle island and leans forwards a little. “Now tell me, Jung Hoseok-ssi. What’s your favorite dish?”

 

The man seems to be a bit startled by the random question, but he smiles again when he looks up at Daeun. 

 

Hoseok shrugs, a hand climbing to his nape. “I… I don’t know, actually. I can’t really pick.”

 

“There has to be something there, come on,” Daeun pushes, gathering the now-chopped green onions in a bowl next to her. “Your mom must’ve cooked something that had you hooked.”

 

Something tangles in his chest. His smile falters, and he tries to massage the back of his neck for comfort. A chuckle escapes, sounding almost uncomfortable. 

 

“I don’t remember,” Hoseok says, voice sounding a little softer than he intended. He meets Daeun’s gaze, and he watches it fall into what must be a look of sympathy. “She passed away when I was very young. It’s hard to remember.”

 

“I’m so sorry,” Daeun says, and he hates the pity in her voice. “I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”

 

Hoseok waves a hand dismissively, quick to respond to the lady.  “No, no, it’s completely fine. You don’t have to worry about it.” He reassures, but her face remains apologetic. 

 

He opens his mouth, ready to change the topic, but Daeun beats him to it.

 

“Well, good thing I'm here now, then!” She says. Her tone is a bit too enthusiastic for his mood, but he appreciates it nevertheless. She puts an onion on the cutting board and pushes it in Hoseok’s direction. “I’ll cook you everything Jina and Jimin have liked since they were kids and you get to pick your favorite.”

 

The mention of Jimin’s name has Hoseok’s stomach twisting, and out of instinct, he turns his head to check if Jina is nearby. 

 

Jina never mentioned Jimin to him. He turns to Daeun, nearing the cutting board she pushed towards him. “Jimin?”

 

“Ah, Jina hasn’t told you, has she?” The older woman is stirring something on the stove. She gives him a brief glance, a sweet, nostalgic smile on her face. “Let’s hope she doesn’t get too mad.”

 

Hoseok cuts the big onion in a half, following Daeun’s silent order. He can feel it already stinging as he waits for her to continue, not sure if he should comment. 

 

Something is bubbling, spreading a pleasurable scent in the whole kitchen. He recognizes it, but he can’t quite put his hand on the name.

 

Daeun is still facing the stove as she talks. “Jiminie is Jina’s older brother.” She grabs a handful from the mozzarella bowl next to her and spreads it over whatever she’s cooking. She glances at him again when she hears the chopping on the cutting board come to a halt. “He’s… away. It’s been some time since we last heard from him, that’s why Jina hasn’t mentioned him yet.” 

 

“Is he abroad?” Hoseok asks, mocking uncertainty. He resumes the chopping, the sharp sting from the onion making his eyes water. 

 

“I don’t know…” Daeun sighs, a little smile remaining on her face. “I hope he’s not.” She covers the pan and turns around, stepping closer to the island from her side. She chuckles a bit, and it’s Hoseok’s turn to feel sympathetic. “Jina gave up on trying to find him. I don’t know why I'm always hanging on to this false hope that he’ll find us again someday.” She stops her sentence with yet another sigh, before another breathier chuckle. “I’m rambling, I'm sorry.”

 

“No, it’s okay.” Hoseok’s phone buzzes in his pocket. He ignores it, deciding to focus more on the woman in front of him. He doesn’t know what exactly he is chasing here, what he wants to pull out of her, but he feels that there are too many gaps in his head that need to be filled. “I’d love to hear more about him.”

 

Daeun laughs a little, eyes reducing to a curve that looks very familiar. Hoseok, then, realizes who Jina and Jimin took after in terms of looks.

 

Maybe even personality too. 

 

It looks like Daeun raised them well, despite everything.

 

“He wanted to dance,” Daeun says, a nostalgic look lingering on her wrinkling face. “Always wanted to move and dance. Such a blessing, my boy was.”

 

Something tugs at Hoseok’s chest at her words, as if his brain is finally realizing that she’s talking about the Jimin he knows, his Jimin. Yoongi’s Jimin. Omertà’s Jimin.

 

He was so loved. The look in his mother’s eyes says it all, except that all this love got ripped away from him and thrown somewhere he couldn’t reach.

 

Now it’s replaced with fear and shame, something so agonizing for Hoseok to watch crumble in front of his eyes only a couple of days ago.  

 

“She didn’t even think i was real, hyung.” Jimin had told him.

 

Hoseok’s phone buzzes again.

 

“He took up Taekwondo instead,”  Daeun tells him, pulling the board of chopped onions from in front of him towards her. She turns around to the stove once more, but Hoseok doesn’t focus on what she does. He’s too distracted by what she says next. “Used to train his sister since I couldn't afford both of them training, too. They were very good.”

 

The gaps are barely filled, but some things already seem clearer. Once more, Hoseok feels like an intruder, like he’s discovering things he shouldn’t. Jina never told him anything about herself.

 

They know nothing of each other. 

 

But this isn’t just about Jina. It feels like he’s looking at Jimin in a different light, now discovering things he never uttered to anyone.

 

Again, making him feel like an intruder.

 

“Sounds like they got along well,” Hoseok says, and his phone buzzes for the third time.

 

Daeun chuckles as he digs in his pocket rather aggressively, pulling out the device. “Got along too well. It was a pain sometimes, having two copies of the same person under the same roof.”

 

Three unread texts from taehyungie. 1 missed call from jk.

 

“Ah, I wouldn't imagine there being a second Jina with that attitude,” Hoseok says absentmindedly, unlocking his phone when a laugh rings in the kitchen. 

 

Although, now that he focuses just enough, he can see traces of each other in the other person. 

 

The sass, the height, it all seems like it runs in the family. 

 

T: hyung where are u

T: drop is tonight, remember?

T: i’m on my way please tell me you didnt fall asleep

 

Hoseok’s eyes snap to the time in his phone, suddenly remembering the conversation he had with Jeongguk earlier that morning. 

 

It was the ass crack of dawn and he just drove to the outskirts of Seoul and back on 5 hours of sleep that left his whole body too relaxed to function. Of course he’s gonna forget what a mumbling, half asleep Jeongguk said over the phone. 

 

“Ah, shit…”

 

“Is something wrong?” Daeun asks, and Hoseok snaps his head up.

 

“I’m sorry, Park Daeun-ssi,” He pauses to gather the right words first. He pushes an apologetic tone, but it doesn’t feel as forced as it once was. “I have an important appointment that happened to slip my mind.”

 

“Oh,” Daeun lets out, a reassuring smile immediately plastered to her face. She chuckles, waving her hands in front of her dismissively. “It’s completely fine, sweetheart. I’ll make Jina drop your food over when it’s done!”

 

“I don’t wanna be a nuisance—“

 

“A nuisance? Please!” Daeun laughs, and Hoseok stops mid-step. “You live alone, you need some homemade food in your stomach!”

 

He takes a step back, and something warm basically spills in his chest at the gesture, but he doesn’t have enough time to dwell on it right now. 

 

“Thank you,” Hoseok chuckles, bowing a little to the woman who waves her hand dismissively again. “I’ll see you soon, Mrs Park!”

 

Hoseok practically runs out of sight, and Daeun wants to stop him so he doesn’t hurt himself, but he’s already too far gone. It isn’t so long until she hears the sound of the descending elevator, and Hoseok is gone. 

 

She gathers the onions he had chopped in a bowl and puts it beside the stove next to the rest of her ingredients, sighing loudly at the vivid memories her conversation with Hoseok has brought up.

 

Soon, she hears little thumps of feet against the tiled floor, and she turns her head to the view of a fresh-out-of-the-shower Jina in clothes that seem to be twice her size, and Daeun flashes her a knowing smile.

 

Jina frowns, eyes scanning over the area, but she finds no Hoseok in sight. 

 

The clothes he lent her suddenly feel heavier on her skin, and a nasty feeling forces itself in her gut. 

 

“He just left. He had an appointment he forgot about.” Daeun tells her, as if she read her mind. She nods to the counter to her right, eyeing something, and Jina soon follows her gaze. “He made you tea, though. Said you might have caught a cold.”

 

Jina’s eyes fall on the lonely reddish mug on the counter, the disappointment washing over her subsiding only slightly. 

 

“Oh.”

 

Jina nears the counter, her fingers stretching from below the long sleeve to grab the warm mug.

 

It’s not steaming hot, but it’s warm enough to help her soothe the slight burn she feels in the back of her throat. She hums at the sensation, eyebrows furrowing further for a few moments as she swallows.

 

Jina drags her feet to where her mother is doing wonders that will soon land in her stomach. She places the mug on the middle island, propping her chin on one of her mother’s shoulders.

 

What if he just pulled up an excuse to leave?

 

Did he just… take and leave?

 

But he made her tea, and judging by the temperature, it looks like he made it right after he left her.

 

He probably isn’t as bad as she always thinks of him to be. Maybe something really just came up and he had to leave.

 

But he could’ve waited until she was out, couldn’t he?

 

She ignores the shortness of her breath, along with the way she feels worse by the second the more she thinks of him. She’s overthinking unnecessary things, she knows that.

 

Why does she still feel so disappointed, then?

 

“I’m sleeping next to you tonight,” Jina mumbles, hearing her mother’s light chuckle right afterwards.

Notes:

looks around
hello ahaha idk where that came from tbfh it just happened
mOVING ON!! i think the next two/three chapters will be equally as big or even bigger so get yourselves ready to annoy your attention span if u have a weak one like moi✋🏻
I GENUINELY HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS ONE!! i hope my skill isn’t decreasing or anything lolol (tell me if its good or bad i need reassurance)
ANYWHO!! i’ll see you hopefully soon with the next chapter!! dont forget to leave your feedback and kudos<3
thank u so much for reading!

Chapter 14: quattordici

Summary:

“Hoseokie-hyung.”

“Mmm?”

“How is Jina doing?”

“She’s fine. Considering everything, she’s okay.”

“Does she…” Jimin trails off, voice just above a whisper. “Did she mention me?”

Notes:

cough cough
i have arrived
ya girl got a job! i hope that explains everything nelwkfkwldm
ngl ive also lost my touch somewhere in the middle. the stress of having to update regularly hasnt been very nice and it made me feel bad about my writing so i had to remind myself that im doing this for me and nothing else! if someone wants to read they can go ahead, but im doing this because i want to, not bc i wanna please someone.
and tbh it kinda eased my mindset a bit :]
ive been planning loads of things for the upcoming chapters too! so i have a pretty solid plan of how it’s ending already. i can say we’re halfway through now! unless i get to change my mind abojt something (again) lol.

anyways! i really hope you enjoy this chapter, it aint much, but it’s leading to what’s gonna happen next!!

don’t forget to tell me what you think in the comments!! kudos are always appreciated too<3

Drops are always cold. However the earth is tilted, whether cherry blossoms are blooming or the leaves are crunching under people’s feet, it’s always cold.

 

Most of the time they happen in isolated places, where normal people aren’t usually found. Nowhere shady, but just smack in the middle of nowhere where there's barely any network and the headlights of their cars are the only source of light. 

 

This time, too, they’re selling. A big mix of everything, the recent client was eager and they had to compensate for the money they already lost. It cost him a huge fortune that will probably leave him suffering until he starts receiving the profit of the goods. Luckily for him, it won’t take him long as soon as the market knows where said goods came from, even though, unlike last time, poison isn’t completely pure to match with his thinning budget.

 

Greedy old fuckers trying to showcase how they got everything wrapped around their pinky are always a pain to deal with.

 

Hoseok fell asleep halfway through the long ride, and Taehyung didn’t have it in him to shake him awake.

 

After waiting for almost 15 minutes for Hoseok to reply, Taehyung decided it would be better if he checks up on him himself. He left the car in Hoseok’s parking lot and strolled to the apartment, making extra sure not to accidentally press the button for the penthouse since he saw Jina’s car parked in one of the empty spots in the parking lot.

 

 He had barely taken one step outside of the elevator when a very, very hurried and disheveled Hoseok snapped the door to his apartment open, eyes wide when they fell on Taehyung.

 

 His hoodie was stuck halfway down his stomach, displaying bare skin out in the open. He had a coat in one hand and his phone clutched in the other tightly, halfway up to his ear. 

 

Taehyung soon felt his own phone buzz in his pockets, and Hoseok let out a loud sigh of relief.

 

He looks tired, Taehyung could clearly spot the exhaustion written in the darkness under his eyes the moment he saw him. Hoseok tried to brush it off as nothing, then proceeded to fall asleep soundly in the passenger seat, and the younger just let him be.

 

At the end of the day,  it’s not like they are not used to Hoseok brushing what he feels away.

 

They arrive sometime later, with the hands of the watch on Taehyung’s wrist overlapping at the top. 

 

“Hyung,” Taehyung calls, turning the engine off. He turns to him, but the older doesn’t respond. 

 

Taehyung turns on the interior light and stretches out a hand to gently shake Hoseok, whose hoodie gets stuck under the seat belt as he moves his head to the window with a low moan of protest. Taehyung leans a bit nearer, trying to get a closer look at his hyung’s face before something else catches his eyes.

 

A messy outline of discolored skin is visible from the pulled collar of Hoseok’s sweater, flushed red, right underneath his collarbone. 

 

Taehyung lets out a small sound of confusion, gaze flickering up to Hoseok, fluttering his eyes open, a deep frown between his eyebrows.

 

“Hyung!”

,

Hoseok’s eyes open wider at the high tone, mouth falling open in surprise. He stares at the younger in disbelief while the other returns the exact same look, but Hoseok guesses each of them has different reasons by the way Taehyung’s eyebrows furrow.

 

“You’re not supposed to be fucking around with a wound like that, you know?” Taehyung scolds, and Hoseok’s eyes widen even more. “You could burst right open!”

 

“What the hell are you talking about?” Hoseok panics, taking off his seatbelt hurriedly. 

 

He looks around, briefly spotting cars and large trucks with containers some meters away from them before he looks back to the younger who starts to speak again.

 

“Do you know how dangerous this is? it’s barely been a week since you got out of the hospital!”

 

“Shhh,” Hoseok lets out, raising his pointer finger to his own lips. “What the fuck are you being so loud for? I didn’t do anything!”

 

“You have a hickey on your collarbone,” Taehyung deadpans.

 

“What?” Hoseok retorts, a hand shooting to the mentioned place right away.

 

With his other hand, Hoseok pulls down the mirror in front of him. He pushes his hand away and shifts his hoodie aside, furrowed eyes falling on the area Taehyung just mentioned.

 

And it’s right there, an angry red basically calling out for attention. 

 

Damn you, Park Jina.

 

“You’re supposed to be recovering,” Taehyung continues, disbelief now mixed with a hair of concern that Hoseok recognizes in the drop of his voice. “You only got your stitches off this morning, hyung.”

 

“I didn’t… fuck around,” Hoseok mumbles, grumpily hiking his hoodie up to cover the very visible mark. “I was careful. Don’t make a fuss about it.”

 

Taehyung unbuckles his seatbelt with a slight roll of his eyes that makes Hoseok almost reach out and smack the back of his head. He opens his door, throwing a look back to the older. “Clearly, there was ‘fucking around’ involved.”

 

“Well, Yes, but-- Wait, why the fuck am I supposed to explain myself to you?”

 

Following the younger’s lead. Hoseok steps out of the car, immediately hugging his coat tighter from the sudden breeze that hit his face. He lets out a loud breath and kicks the door shut, keeping his arms around him as he walks to the front of the car, where Taehyung is waiting for him.

 

The moment he looks ahead as they start walking together, Hoseok is met with a shorter, broad figure with a flowing black coat and hair that’s barely visible from the darkness of the night skies stomping his way towards them.

 

Jeongguk and Seokjin are behind him, watching the scene from afar.

 

Once he is close enough, Yoongi asks in anger. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

 

“I don’t remember having to ask for permission to come to work?” Hoseok stops walking when the older settles in front of him, while Taehyung keeps walking to join the others. “Why are you all pissy? I was supposed to be the one handling this drop anyways. What are you doing here?”

 

“You’re supposed to be home, Hoseok,” Yoongi says, rather aggressively. “You’re supposed to be resting. The way normal fucking human beings rest after waking up from a coma.”

 

“It’s been a week, Minmin. Don’t worry about me,” Hoseok raises a hand and boops Yoongi’s nose with his index finger. With a smug smile growing on his face, he watches as Yoongi pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue in a failing attempt to contain his anger. Hoseok wraps an arm around Yoongi’s shoulder and turns him around, pushing him forwards so they start to move towards the others. “Worry about yourself. You might pop a vein there, buddy.”

 

“Why are you in a good mood?” Yoongi asks in disbelief, being unusually loud.

 

“Why is everyone asking me that today?”

 

“Because he got himself a good fuck that knocked him out for like an hour and a half,” Taehyung replies instead. He covers the fire from his lighter as he lights the cigarette between his lips. Hoseok sighs defeatedly, and Seokjin rolls his eyes so hard that it’s concerning. “Barely woke him up, there.”

 

“Huh?” Jeongguk lets out, looking back and forth between Hoseok and Taehyung, before finally settling on the older. “Hyung--”

 

“I didn’t fuck anyone.” Hoseok lets go of Yoongi’s shoulders, a death glare sent Taehyung’s way. 

 

“Did somebody fuck you , then?”

 

Hoseok turns to Seokjin blankly, who’s trying to hold back a teasing smirk. “No. Nobody fucked me.”

 

He nudges his shoulder, and now that Hoseok focuses, he hears the slur in his speech. The younger stumbles back a little from the impact. “Aw, come on, Hoseokie. Everyone likes to be dicked down every once in a while, ey?”

 

“Are you drunk?” Hoseok steps back forwards, the question mark almost visible on his face. Seokjin nods with a low giggle, and Hoseok hears Yoongi sigh beside him.

 

“How’d you get this hickey, then?” Taehyung nods towards Hoseok, eyes falling to where the hidden mark is. He exhales a puff of smoke, hand traveling towards Jeongguk as he hands him the cigarette. 

 

“Why are you suddenly so interested in my sex life?”

 

“You were knocked out,” Jeongguk chuckles, mumbling with the filter between his lips. “You barely fucking sleep. Come on, was it that good?”

 

“You know what?” Hoseok gives up. “Yes it was. Extremely. Would do it again in a heartbeat.”

 

“Damn,” Seokjin looks a bit stunned.

 

Hoseok reaches out and snatches the cigarette from between Jeongguk’s lips, who is left in disbelief. He wraps his lips around the shortening cigarette and inhales, receiving the relief of the burn in his chest for the first time in a while. 

 

Hoseok holds the poison in his chest for a bit before exhaling, looking at the furious redness at the tip of the cigarette. “Probably one of the best blow jobs I’ve ever received,” 

 

“What kinda blow job knocks you out like that?” There’s a hint of teasing in Yoongi’s voice that Hoseok is very glad to recognize. 

 

“A good one,” Hoseok replies cockily, wrapping his lips around the cigarette again. 

 

“Now, y’all are leaving me to handle everything and you’re here gossiping about blow jobs?”

 

It is so foreign for Hoseok’s stomach to twist at Jimin’s appearance. 

 

Jimin pushes his way between Jeongguk and Seokjin who stumbles back dizzily and oh so helplessly. Once he spots Hoseok, his eyes widen in a look of surprise, and they widen even more when his gaze falls to the cigarette between his lips.

 

“Hyung!” Jimin quaked, snatching away his cigarette mid-smoke. “The hell are you doing? You’re not supposed to be smoking yet!”

 

“Don’t waste your energy,” Yoongi shakes his head, shoving his hands in the pockets of his coat. “He’s not gonna listen anyway.”

 

“I’m not gonna hear the end of this, I know.” Hoseok mumbles. He starts walking forwards, pushing past Jimin and Seokjin, who once more, stumbles back helplessly. “I’m gonna go make sure everything’s in check.”

 

“I already did—“

 

“Gonna do it again,” He calls back to Jimin. “I need a breather since y’all can’t get enough of treating me like a fucking child.”

 

He tried to take as much time as possible, even though everything turned out to be in check just like Jimin told him. Their client should be arriving any time soon, Hoseok doesn’t think he can be in the presence of his friends until all of this is over.

 

Fighting the urge to find another cigarette to soothe his boiling nerves is hard. It keeps knocking and nudging at all the weak places in his brain that he almost gives in, but decides against it for his own sake. He can’t handle an infection or a delay in healing when he can barely handle resting at all. 

 

Hoseok makes sure everyone sees him on site. Makes sure to nod greetings here and there for the men under his control as he hears hushed whispers and mumbles behind his back about his quick return.

 

The effort of the whole day, let alone walking around and checking on every damn package as a pass-time, surely took a toll on him. Nevertheless, he hides his slight limp very well when his wound starts to sting more than usual.

 

It’s nothing he can’t handle. Nothing unexpected for someone in his line of work to go through, so being treated like he’s made of glass even more than he already is, it’s pushing all of his wrong buttons.

 

Maybe seeing Jimin heightened his sensitivity. Hoseok didn’t expect to see him here, even though his presence is nothing unusual on jobs like this. He thought Jimin would skip this considering his state, Yoongi wouldn’t tell him no, but maybe he underestimates the younger. 

 

Last time he saw him he was in a much worse state than he is now, although Hoseok isn’t sure if this is just to get him through the job or his brief meeting with his sister did something to him. Hoseok’s been so distracted with all of the events happening today to check up on him.

 

The things he keeps uncovering about him through the eyes of his other family are making Hoseok see Jimin in a completely different light that leaves him burdened with the knowledge of every side of his story, yet he cannot do anything about it as it isn’t his business. He can’t force Jimin to go see them because he saw the terror in his eyes not so long ago, and he doesn’t know how he is supposed to tell Jina and Daeun that their Jimin is one of his own too.

 

Jina will be mad at him, Hoseok thinks. She’ll be mad at him for hiding such information from her.

 

But maybe, he too, can’t bear to see such a look on her face when she sees Jimin again.

 

Will it be relief, betrayal, disappointment, or agony, he doesn’t think he would want to see something like this in the eyes he’s seen sad for as long as he has known them, only starting to blossom with something more, something softer.

 

Whether this happens soon or not isn’t in his hands, but he wishes to delay it just a bit more.

 

Even as he leans back on a container, staring out in the darkness with the sound of waves crashing on the shore nearby, all that he can think about is her.

 

He smiles a bit at the memory of her sighing in his arms, relaxing gradually after looking like her soul was about to be stolen away from her.

 

What could’ve happened to make her so terrified of darkness?

 

Hoseok finds himself wishing she never tells him.

 

“What are you doing here all alone?”

 

Jimin’s sudden appearance startles Hoseok once more, making his head snap to where the sound came from. He rounds from behind the container of the truck Hoseok is hiding behind and walks closer until he settles beside the older. 

 

It takes Hoseok a few seconds to muster up an answer, his gut swirling in what he can describe as nervousness.

 

Then it hits him.

 

“Huh?”

 

Jina is Jimin’s younger sister.

 

Jimin giggles. “Damn, was that blow job that good?”

 

He just received a blow job from one of his best friends’ sister.

 

Hoseok lets out an embarrassing excuse of a breathy chuckle and looks back forwards.

 

He can really use a fucking cigarette right now.

 

Or a drink.

 

Preferably both.

 

Hoseok clears his throat, looking for a way to change the subject. “You got out of your room, huh?”

 

Jimin sighs, mimicking his position. He crosses his arms over his chest. “Work is work. I just have to push through the night.”

 

“You can’t stay in there forever, you know,” Hoseok briefly gazes at Jimin. “It won’t do you any good.”

 

“I’m not always in there,” Jimin says, Hoseok hears the heaviness of his voice. “I… go on walks. I started today.”

 

“That’s…” Hoseok trails off, at a bit of loss of words for more reasons than he wants to think about. “That’s good, Jimin. But this isn’t what I mean.”

 

“Yeah, well,” Jimin shifts in his position to look up at the cloudy, dark, scary skies. “I’m not ready yet.”

 

Hoseok stays quiet, unsure whether he would find a good reply.

 

“Hoseokie-hyung.”

 

“Mmm?”

 

“How is Jina doing?”

 

“She’s fine. Considering everything, she’s okay.”

 

“Does she…” Jimin trails off, voice just above a whisper. “Did she mention me?”

 

Hoseok looks at him, and he finds hopeful, shadowed eyes looking back at him. It breaks his heart, having to speak out the next words. “No, she didn’t.”

 

It takes Jimin a few seconds, but he nods, eyes falling in visible disappointment. 

 

“She has a couple of pictures of you in her room, though,” Hoseok tries to fix anything from what has just shattered in front of him. “You saw them, huh?”

 

Jimin hums out. “I guess that’s something.”

 

“She wouldn’t mention you to me, anyway,” Hoseok continues with a sigh, directing his gaze to the far left, where he can see the white foam of the waves rushing back to meet the sea once more. “Pretty sure she doesn’t like me enough to tell me about her long-lost brother.”

 

She doesn’t, does she?

 

Damn, why does this kinda sting?

 

The sound of nearing, decelerating loud engines can be heard in the quiet area, signaling the arrival of their long-awaited client. Hoseok looks back to Jimin. He’s pushing himself off of the container with an audible sigh, brushing his bright hair away from his face.

 

“Let’s get this over with.” He says.

 

They walk together, walking through the small gap between the trucks forming a wide v shape. Jimin trails a couple of feet behind Hoseok. He lets the older lead, closely scanning the area surrounding them with sharp eyes.

 

The cars are yet to halt, so Hoseok stills in the middle of the wide crescent they made with their vehicles, with the loaded trucks lined up perfectly to make a small pathway in the center. Jimin stills to his side, and Hoseok hears a couple more pairs of footsteps nearing until they settle to his other side, staying a foot behind.

 

Yoongi and Seokjin are nowhere to be found.

 

They’re letting him do it on his own.

 

A single car stops a few feet from where Hoseok is standing while all the others trail behind. The beam from the headlights is irritatingly bright. Hoseok has to bring a hand up to cover his eyes, but the headlights are shut off once his annoyance is visible.

 

The passenger door opens and a hurried guard in black rushes to open the back door for his boss, who makes a show of displaying his YLS boot before he gets up to his feet. He adjusts his coat on his shoulders as he turns to the front, eyes finally settling on the group waiting for him.

 

When his gaze meets Hoseok’s, the old geezer freezes. His eyes widen a bit behind his tinted glasses.

 

“Saw a ghost, Sangkyu?”

 

“Is that you, President Jung?” Sangkyu makes an act of squinting his eyes, a surprised expression taking over his face. He steps from behind the car door and starts closing the distance between them. He laughs, spreading his arms out in welcome. “Bonasera!”

 

“Oh, da quando parli italiano?” 

 

“Ah,” Sangkyu’s steps falter only barely, face dropping a bit, but Hoseok still manages to catch it. “Si, si! I didn’t know you’d be here!”

 

Fucker.

 

“I believe I was the one you’re supposed to meet with, correct?” Hoseok tells the man as he draws nearer with a hand stretched out to meet his. Once he was close enough, Hoseok meets his hand halfway in a firm grip, tight and harsh with intent. “Where’s the surprise?”

 

The old man hides his wince before they both drop their hands.

 

“I heard of your... accident,” Sangkyu says, chin higher than necessary. “I didn’t think you’d be back so quickly.”

 

Then, coming here was a good move.

 

“Come on, Sangkyu,” Hoseok laughs, bringing a hand to briefly hide his mouth as he takes a look at the armed guards behind him. He returns his gaze to the man, voice still a bit humorous. “It’s gonna take a lot more than that to take me out.” Sangkyu smiles, and Hoseok can tell that it’s not very genuine. “What? Did I ruin something you had in mind?”

 

Hoseok needs to sit down. The sting keeps getting irritating.

 

“What could I have had in mind?” Sangkyu laughs back. “There have been some rumors regarding your state lately. I’m glad they aren’t true.”

 

“I’m sure you are,” Hoseok smirks. He looks to his right, locking his gaze with Taehyung for a brief second before he returns to Sangkyu once more. He steps closer, clasping a hand over one of his shoulders while the other remains in the pocket of his pants. “Let’s get this over with, then, huh? You’re already unfashionably late. I don’t want more of my time wasted.”

 

Hoseok can see that he’s pissing the old man off, but hell with it. Rang Sangkyu came here intending to fuck something up, and like Hoseok thought, he ruined it for him by being here.

 

Sangkyu knows that Hoseok knows so. Hoseok makes sure of it.

 

Hoseok pats the older man to the shoulder and steps away, signaling his men to start moving with the same hand. 

It takes more than estimated, and Hoseok realizes that he overestimated his stamina.

 

Two hours in and they are around 70% done transferring the goods from their trucks to Sangkyu’s, and the fucker just has to delay the process by checking on every other package. Some time in, Hoseok started to feel his bones shake. His breathing seems to be a little more difficult than usual, and his stomach is twisting and turning on nothing.

 

He hasn’t eaten anything since lunch, nor has taken his meds.

 

Let alone the lack of sleep.

 

There’s an annoying lump in his throat that he can’t seem to be able to swallow even after downing the water bottle he found in Jeongguk’s car in one go. Maybe it even felt a little worse as it met his empty stomach. 

 

Hoseok tried his best to hide his tremendous physical state for some time because damn him if he ever shows anything, but the act starts to fall little by little every time someone comes to check on him while he stays in Jeongguk’s car, letting the younger ones take care of the rest instead.

 

He watches the process from afar, trying to distract himself from the dizziness that seems to overtake him in slow motion. It’s nothing too bad, but given the situation, it makes him worry a little. No one should be seeing him like this.

 

Fate yet again proves to him that he’s all stubborn for nothing, but his presence was definitely needed today nevertheless.

 

Their cars are positioned in the shade, darkness engulfing the vehicles so they’re not seen so well, keeping whoever inside hidden from the prying eyes. However, amidst his state, Hoseok had failed to recognize that beside Jeongguk and Taehyung’s cars stood a third one. So, when the driver’s door suddenly clicks open, Hoseok’s hand immediately reaches for his gun.

 

“Easy,” a familiar voice lets out. A pale hand reaches out to the barrel of Hoseok’s raised gun and gently pushes it down as Yoongi’s features make their way to Hoseok’s mind. “It’s just me.”

 

The scare makes Hoseok’s heart beat harsher in his chest. He lets Yoongi push his gun all the way down, but he can’t hide his shaking limbs anymore.

 

Hoseok lets out a trembling puff of air and lets his head fall to the headrest, his eyes fluttering closed in relief.  His hands meet his lap with the cold metal still held tightly in one of them, and it’s pathetic just how much his hand is shaking.

 

Yoongi quietly climbs in the driver’s seat and pulls the door closed. Hoseok hears him adjust his position for a few seconds before the car goes completely quiet again. 

 

“Are you here to scold me again?”

 

“No.”

 

“Good,” Hoseok says right away. His gaze falls to his gun as he opens his eyes again. “I don’t think I can take any more of that with the remaining of my sanity intact.”

 

Yoongi puts his hands in his pockets, staring out in front of him silently while the younger continues tracing the line of his firearm with his blurring eyes. They stay like that for a while. With too many unsaid words filling the air around them, Hoseok feels like opening the door and running right out, but he can’t do that.

 

 It’s not just because he can’t physically run at the moment.

 

Something always shifts in the air when the crowd reduces to him and Yoongi alone, even through constant bickering and unuttered anger. 

 

Yoongi was the first ever person Hoseok felt safe with since the… incidents. It’s hard not to feel comfortable with him even while they’re mad at each other. Even when everything’s a mess, even when he’s in a cold hospital room after days of unconsciousness, Yoongi manages to always be there.

 

“It’s gonna snow soon,” Yoongi utters breathily, eyes watching their people move in distance.

 

Hoseok hums out in agreement as he drags his eyes up to the muted sky. He leans to the side, pushing his gun in the back of his pants.

 

“You can sleep a bit if you want,” The older murmurs. “I’ll drive you home once everything’s over.”

 

“I’ll just…” Hoseok trails off. He leans back in his seat with a weary sigh. He wants to sleep. Hell, he wants to sleep for days, his eyes are already droopy. “I’ll sleep on the way. Just in case.”

 

Yoongi doesn’t argue back this time. Instead, he nods, his shoulders rising and falling slowly. Hoseok can still hear the words on the tip of Yoongi’s tongue, however, and it doesn’t allow his shaky body to even attempt to relax.

 

“Sangkyu was going to stir some shit up,” Hoseok says with a subtle sniffle. They haven’t looked at each other since Yoongi came. “I don’t know, only give half the price or something. Was gonna use my state against us, say that we’re weaker and in need of the deal. That wouldn’t have been so pretty to deal with.”

 

“You overthink a lot,” Yoongi chuckles.

 

“I do,” Hoseok tells him. “It’s true, though. Remember what Hongjoong said? Too many things happened in too little time. People think we’re an easy target now.  I could see right through him the moment he got out of his car. Looked all smug and confident until he saw me.”

 

“Well, good thing you’re a stubborn piece of shit, then, I guess. Saved us a hassle only for me to deal with another of my own.”

 

Hoseok finally looks at him. “Huh?”

 

Yoongi turns to him as well. “Well, I have to leave my very depressed boyfriend for the night so I can take care of my very sick best friend who will be a huge pain to carry all the way to his apartment.”

 

“No, you really shouldn’t. Jimin needs y--”

 

“I already talked to him, he wants me to go too.” Yoongi cuts him off, eyebrows furrowing a little. “Besides, you really don’t understand just how awful you look right now. I’m surprised you’re not unconscious. Did you even take your meds today?”

 

Hoseok purses his lips together, leaning away from the older in silence as he watches him let his eyes fall closed in visible frustration.

 

“Listen, I didn’t have dinner. I can’t take them on an empty stomach.”

 

Yoongi looks like he’s about to scream, and Hoseok bites back his laughter. “And why exactly didn’t you fucking have dinner?!”

 

“I was about to when Taehyung called so I had to leave. I got held back a little, I couldn’t eat on time.”

 

“Held back,” Yoongi scoffs, looking forward briefly. “That’s one way to put it.”

 

Hoseok rolls his eyes, leaning an elbow on the window frame beside him. “Unbelievable.”

 

“Me? I’m unbelievable?”

 

“And childish.”

 

“ME?!”

 

“Yes, every time I breathe wrong you’ll bring it up.”

 

“What? You being late because you were getting your dick wet?”

 

“I got distracted. Happens to the best of us.” Hoseok shrugs shamelessly, and Yoongi just stares at him blankly. “Come on, you can’t seriously be mad about this.”

 

“Oh, I’m mad about a lot of things,” Yoongi huffs and looks forward, this time keeping his head there. He shoves his hands back in his pockets, cheeks puffing in grumpiness. “But I didn’t come here to list them. I have the whole day tomorrow for that.”

 

Hoseok looks at him in what could be a mixture of fear and disbelief.

 

“If you’re even thinking about going to work tomorrow, or the next few days for that matter,” Yoongi slowly turns his head to Hoseok, it’s almost comical. “You better start running.”

 

“You’re scary sometimes.”

 

“Shut up.” Yoongi grumbles. Hoseok leans back in his seat, trying to get a bit more comfortable. He pushes the back of his chair down, getting ready to relax back against it, but Yoongi interrupts. He puts a hand on his back to prevent him from leaning backward. “If you’re gonna sleep, let's go to my car. I seriously don't like carrying you.”

 

“Sheesh, you’re calling me fat too now?” Hoseok tsks and shrugs Yoongi’s hand off. 

 

The younger opens the door with a roll of his eyes and puts a foot out, oblivious to the way his knees will weakly meet the ground the second he tries to stand up straight. 

 

Everything is spinning, Hoseok has to close his eyes to save himself the nausea that almost made a special appearance in his already fucked up body. 

 

Thankfully, he managed to land on his hands and knees instead of meeting the harsh ground face first. That would’ve surely done some serious damage. Although his limbs are weak and shaky, he tries his best to push himself back in a sitting position on his knees instead, head lolling back with a loud grimace of pain.

 

His eyes are squeezed shut, but the sound of Yoongi’s hurried steps meets his ears. Hoseok stretches a hand out as his world continues to spin, only to feel his hyung’s cold fingers wrap around his own moments later.

 

“You good?” Yoongi is trying to keep his cool. He kneels beside Hoseok, his other hand immediately flying to the bicep furthest from him to keep him up. The younger moans at his throbbing knees, trying to physically shake his dizziness away. “Answer me, Seokie.”

 

“ ‘m dizzy,” Hoseok leans on his knee. He opens his eyes and leans forwards to blink harshly at the solid ground, trying to take control over his body. With a tremor in the free hand, it trails up and hovers over where his stinging wound is. 

 

Yoongi takes a brief look behind him to see if anyone has their eyes in their direction. When he’s sure no one’s looking, he pulls Hoseok up to his feet and holds him tightly against him. He immediately throws one of Hoseok’s arms around his shoulder. Yoongi drags the younger to walk behind the cars instead of exposing them to the front, and Hoseok does his best to not put all his weight on Yoongi. 

 

Hoseok keeps trying to get rid of his remaining dizziness by shaking his head. He manages to get his vision straight for mere seconds, and he only uses the time to check if anyone’s looking their way before he starts seeing blurred figures again. 

 

By the time they reach Yoongi’s car, Hoseok had managed to pull his shit together and force himself to walk on his own. “I’m fine, I’m fine,” He tells the older who still refuses to let go of him. Hoseok puts out a hand on the car to lean on as he tries to pull away, looking back at Yoongi to give him a reassuring nod. “I’m fine. You can let go.”

 

Yoongi obeys but stays near nevertheless. He watches as his best friend leans forward on the car door, it almost looks like he’s processing what had just happened. Hoseok shakes his head once more, pushing himself away from the car.

 

“‘Ts because I didn’t eat. Don’t worry too much.”

 

Yoongi runs a hand through his hair in frustration. He opens the back seat, eyes glaring. “Hoseok, get in the fucking car.”

 

He can no longer reply, only pushes himself to obey because he can neither physically talk back, nor does he want to at this point. He just climbs in the back seat with the support of his best friend’s arms, finally announcing his defeat.

 

Seokjin is in the passenger seat, head thrown back on the headrest, with tiny, breathy snores coming out of him.

 

Hoseok waits for Yoongi to climb in the driver’s seat before he asks with what’s remaining with his voice. “What’s up with him today?”

 

“I don’t fucking know,” Yoongi grumbles, pulling the door closed with way too much energy. Seokjin flinches, but he stays asleep nevertheless. “He came like that. Didn’t wanna talk about it.”

 

“He’s never done this before, though,” Hoseok mumbles slowly. “Something must’ve happened.”

 

“All of you are going to fucking drive me nuts one day, I swear to god.”

 

With Yoongi present, it’s a little easier for Hoseok to give in to the exhaustion. The distant sound of the waves echoing in the night lulls him to restless sleep, calming down his own flooding sea. However, he is still aware of his surroundings to an annoying extent that he almost feels like crying. 

 

He tries to focus on the waves instead of the exigent movement of boxes and people outside, and he successfully fails. He’s still anxious about what could happen if he drifts off completely, but he knows that his body is too fatigued to grant him any of the rest he craves.

 

Some time later, Hoseok recognizes Jimin’s voice as he fills Yoongi in on the situation, telling him that Sangkyu finally took his leave and the money they received is legit. It isn’t much later that Hoseok feels the buzz of the engine, and it all goes quiet afterwards. Only his hyungs’ steady breaths remain.

 

Hoseok’s gotta give all his kudos for Yoongi today for not shooting all of them between the eyebrows, then himself. Hoseok would’ve called him a saint, if he didn’t know who he is, for putting up with the amount of bullshit thrown right at his face in the span of four hours.

 

One is smashed, one’s wounded and stubborn, and the other is depressed up to his neck. If Taehyung and Jeongguk had breathed in the wrong way, Hoseok is sure Yoongi would’ve just taken his car and drove himself right in the arms of the vast sea nearby.

 

Being stuck in a state between consciousness and unconsciousness makes Hoseok even more prone to the emotions that suddenly come and carry him away, even the slightest of sounds makes him moan out grumpily. 

 

It’s a long drive. At some point near their arrival, Hoseok’s brain lets him doze completely off to a quiet, dark, dreamless slumber. 

 

He isn’t aware of anything until he is shaken back to wakefulness by gentle hands and a deep voice calling out his name.  

 

“We’re home,” Yoongi says tenderly. 

 

He’s not fully awake as the other supports him across the parking lot and to the elevator. Amidst his sleepiness, Hoseok makes sure that Jina’s car is still in the parking lot. 

 

He doesn’t know what time it is, doesn’t know if she already went to work without it or not, but he hopes he finds her near when he wakes up.

 

When the pair finally exits the elevator, both their attention zeroes on the abandoned objects left in front of the door to his apartment. 

 

There are multiple plastic food containers stacked on top of each other, two rows of them, with what seems like a white piece of paper placed on top of them.

 

“What’s this?” Yoongi asks breathily, slowing them down in caution.

 

It takes Hoseok a few seconds for his mind to catch up. He is just as confused as his friend until his memory snaps in place, connecting the events to one another.

 

“Oh,” Hoseok lets out, a bit surprised himself, although Daeun did tell him that she will send him the food he missed. “That’s…” He’s more alert now, tiptoeing around the words. “That must be from Park Daeun. She promised she’d cook me a meal some time.”

 

Yoongi is still a bit hesitant. “She did?”

 

Hoseok nods and pushes them to start walking again. Yoongi bends down to grab the boxes while Hoseok shakily punches in his passcode. 

 

“Since when are you two so close?” Yoongi asks, kicking the door closed while Hoseok stumbles out of his shoes. 

 

“Since I'm technically supposed to be dating her daughter,” Hoseok mumbles, leaning on the heated walls so he wouldn’t just collapse right then and there. “I gotta act nice and all.”

 

But is he ever actually acting at all?

 

“Are you sure it’s not poisoned?”

 

“Why…” Hoseok sighs out in exhaustion, looking at Yoongi with desperate eyes. “Why would it be poisoned?” 

 

Yoongi just shrugs at that, walking past Hoseok to hurriedly put the containers away. Hidden away from his sight, Yoongi’s voice echoes in the otherwise empty apartment. “Go change and come eat so you can take your meds. I’ll put those away and be right behind you.”

 

Hoseok nods and obeys silently, dragging his feet with a hand planted to the wall for support. He’s a bit dizzy, but it’s nothing compared to when he collapsed earlier. The restless nap he took earlier fueled him with enough energy to keep himself on his feet, but as it seems, it’s enough to do just that. 

 

It’s dawn, Hoseok realizes. The curtains in his room are wide open, displaying a wide, endless purple ocean lying above the city of Seoul. 

 

Said city looks asleep from his view up here. Dead, almost. There are barely any neon signs blazing, the otherwise bright buildings are dark and dull.

 

Nevertheless, it looks calm. Tranquil. And for mere seconds, his brain is, too.

 

Yoongi enters the room, and the familiarity in the air makes Hoseok remain in place. Standing in front of the big windows that he specifically asked for in his building, like a speck of dust watching the vast world freeze before him.

 

“Come on,” Yoongi whispers. He pulls Hoseok’s coat from his shoulders. “You have to head to bed soon.”

 

Hoseok snaps out of his little world at the touch and wiggles out of the heavy coat, pulling his hoodie over his head with an unmaskable grimace. He turns to look for something to wear in his closet, but Yoongi stops him.

 

“Sit down,” Yoongi tells him. He points to the bed, gently giving Hoseok a little nudge towards it. “I’ll get it.”

 

He isn’t even given any time to protest before the smaller man hurries to the closet, leaving the younger no choice but to sit back on the edge of his bed, a grunt of pain easily rolling off of his tongue. 

 

And as he watches his hyung fumble and struggle to pick out something in his closet, Hoseok asks. “How come you never get tired of my bullshit like that?”

 

Yoongi doesn’t look even a bit phased by Hoseok’s question, finally finding the hoodie he’s been looking for. “What am I supposed to do, then? Leave you for dead?”

 

“Don’t you get tired?” Hoseok asks genuinely. “We’ve been stuck in the same cycle for years.”

 

“I’m always tired,” Yoongi tells him. He starts to walk back out of the closet. “But I've got nothing to do except doing my part and taking care of you until you get up on your own feet.” He settles before Hoseok, expression too neutral for the words coming out of his mouth. He slides a plain undershirt past Hoseok’s head. “You’re better than you once were, you know? Much better.”

 

Hoseok pulls the shirt down his body. “I haven’t improved much…”

 

“It’s enough for me to be patient.” Yoongi pulls the hoodie, too, past Hoseok’s head, not giving the younger a chance to have a proper look at him until then. He helps him put his arms in one by one, then pulls the thick material down to his torso, careful of the wound. “Although I can’t say it’s easy for me to see you like this. Nor it is for anyone, but you’re too stubborn for your own good all the fucking time. I’ve got nothing to do but give you what you want because you’ll find a way to get it yourself either way.”

 

There is a string of disappointment dancing amongst the words that flow out of Yoongi’s mouth. He tried to hide it, Hoseok notices, but damn him for being too observant. 

 

“How can I blame you, though?” Yoongi bends his back a bit and drops his hands to unbutton Hoseok’s pants, and even though it’s a bit awkward, Hoseok just lets himself be taken care of willingly for once.  “I know everything. Better than everyone. Every fucking time you pull something up i have no other choice but to pat you on the back and let you cry it out because you have every damn right to react the way you do, and I still have no choice but to act the way I do.”

 

Yoongi pulls his pants off and replaces the comfier ones on, letting Hoseok take control after he passed the hem past his thighs so he wouldn’t bend down too much. The younger stands up, a hand tight on Yoongi’s forearm for support, and pulls the pants just below his wound.

 

“I’m just unlucky, I guess.” He sighs.

 

“I don’t think that’s how it works,” Yoongi throws one of his arms around his shoulder, but Hoseok doesn’t lean on him too much. Like they’re just strolling through a park on a sunny day. “I don’t know, just wait it out.”

 

“That’s a lot of waiting,” Hoseok chuckles as they walk out of the room. “I’ve already done my fair share of it.”

 

“Then maybe you don’t have much of it left.”

 

Hoseok wants to laugh at his hyung’s words, at the irony of the world. Because even after all of this, the person that comes to mind when Hoseok thinks of what his redemption can look like is too far out of reach.

 

Maybe he’s been trying to fool himself into thinking that she’s not that far. And maybe she’s not. Maybe she’s just an inch away from his fingertips, just never close enough for him to reach.

 

Even though he’s bending on the edge of the railing with all his might, something in him wants to push a little more. To try to have his hands on her. Even if it would end up with him tipping over and falling to his doom.

 

The only possible way for their worlds to touch is if she manages to meet him halfway, and Hoseok isn’t very sure that something like this is even realistic. 

 

Yoongi drags a chair out of the dining table and gently helps Hoseok sit down. He didn’t move the food out of the containers, just removed the lids and placed them

in an orderly manner. 

 

Hoseok’s eyes fall to the piece of paper he’s seen minutes earlier on the containers, and before he can reach for it, it’s floating in Yoongi’s hand.

 

“What is this, by the way?” The older asks, confusion painted on his pale face. “Some kinda game?”

 

Hoseok snatches the piece of paper from his hands and inspects it himself. Black ink in messy handwriting covers the plain paper almost artistically with one simple sentence.

 

‘I thought about it.’ The paper says.

 

Below the sentence, three dots are placed in a triangular form.

 

The tattoo. The one Changmin has. 

 

“Jina found this tattoo behind Changmin’s ear,” Hoseok slides the paper towards Yoongi, stiff hands reaching for the chopsticks. “She asked around but didn’t find anything on it.”

 

Yoongi gives a second look at the simple dots. “I’ll tell Jeongguk to ask around.”

 

“The others too. The more the better. We need to get to the bottom of this quick.”

 

“We’re gonna go retract the drugs out of the vaults tomorrow night,” Yoongi informs, and Hoseok stops his hand halfway to his mouth. He looks at his hyung, and the older one already knows what he’s gonna say. “And no.”

 

“Come on! I’ll stay behind, I won't go in.”

 

“No, Hoseok. You need to recover.”

 

Hoseok shoves his food in his mouth. “I’ll stay back with Chaeyoung. I have to be there.”

 

“You don’t have to be anywhere but your fucking bed.” Yoongi hisses through gritted teeth, but Hoseok is not phased. “You saw how you ended up today.”

 

“I’ll make sure to take my meds and all. Besides, you said tomorrow. I have the whole day today and a bit of the day after to rest, I'd say this is more than enough.”

 

Yoongi wipes a hand down his face, letting his fist uncontrollably meet the table with a thud. “You’re fucking insufferable.”

 

“I won’t be put in danger. I said I’ll stay in the car,” Hoseok tells the older, who just rolls his eyes at him. “Come on, you just said I'll do whatever I want at the end of the day. Just this once, and I'll willingly rest until I'm fully recovered.”

 

Yoongi deadpans at that.

 

They both know that’s a complete fucking lie.

The second the working hours are over, Jina picks up her stuff, bids her colleagues farewell and takes her leave. The very air she breathed had been feeling so heavy all day. The excessive attention she has been getting because of her healing injury lately makes things suffocating, let alone Namjoon’s presence, that has her going a little bit nuts as the seconds go by.

 

He gives her no care, still trying his best not to be in the same place as she is. 

 

Jina caught on that Yunho warned Jongho not to ask questions. The pair were acting like nothing was out of order, almost too much. Siwon only threw a question there, but when Jina brushed it off as work stress, he just nodded and never addressed the matter again.

 

The air is cold enough to make her inhale a deep breath the moment she steps out of the automatic doors. The city is alive, she can hear distant voices and car honks tweeting around her like birds in dawn. 

 

Someone bumps into her as they run inside. Doesn’t even bother stopping to apologize.

 

The detective feels like she might burst into tears if someone as much as coughs in front of her. It’s been a long ass day, and her brain was so determined not to give her the capacity to breathe properly. It’s too overwhelming, this amount of thoughts rushing through her clueless brain at the same second. 

 

Autopsy is late. She was supposed to receive a call midday with the report. They said it’s because the corpse was already rotting, it’s quite tricky to get the information she wants, that is if they get out of this whole fucking process with anything. 

 

Jina doubts that they will find anything of use, anyways. Whoever is behind this isn’t dumb enough to leave something behind, she fears.

 

Namjoon seems…quieter, today. From the glimpses she caught of him all day long, he barely uttered a word to anyone. It felt so weird not even getting to hear his voice even if he isn’t talking to her. There is always this pathetic feeling that creeps up on Jina every time their eyes accidentally meet at the little spark of hope that ignites in her body.

 

 It never lasted long, that spark. The moment she reaches for the warmth it might provide, a pair of ruthless hands wrap around her and throw her away, right in the arms of a freezing river. 

 

On top of all of the mess, like she needed any more to think about, Hoseok makes a home of her mind and starts to live there rent-free.

 

She tried to avoid thinking about him all night the night before, tossing and turning, trying not to wake her mother up as she slept soundly next to her, but he had managed to catch up to her the moment she looked at herself in the mirror, finding his clothes still hugging her smaller body.

 

Because what the fuck have they done, really? She wasn’t drunk, she can’t blame it on alcohol. She was in complete control of her mind, letting herself feel every fucking touch, every tender kiss to her skin. 

 

Him. Jung Hoseok, of all people. 

 

And the more Jina thinks about it, the more she finds the fact that she wanted to please him unavoidable. She wanted to do more, much much more, and she wouldn’t have stopped him if her mother wasn’t a few rooms over. 

 

Thing is, he wanted it too. She could feel it, could fucking see it in his eyes. He wanted her just as much as she wanted him, and Jina has no fucking idea what to do with such information.

 

But someone like Jung Hoseok could easily be pulling shit up to his advantage, maybe he was just trying to get the tattoo she found on Changmin, but thinking about that was too late, as she has already given it to him.

 

A part of her wishes that this isn't the case, but what good would that do her?

 

This shouldn’t even have happened in the first place. They’re supposed to be each other’s nemesis, right? Fuck, she shouldn’t have even agreed to this sick godforsaken deal.

 

Jina shouldn’t let herself feel safe in his presence, should’ve never been fooled by the way he holds her. Jung Hoseok leads a mafia, she is a police officer. 

 

This is wrong. This is wrong. 

 

It’s so wrong, how he runs his hands in her hair like that.

 

What was she thinking?

 

Jina’s breathing quickens, her eyes start to sting. She moves quickly down the few stairs at the entrance, pulling her car keys with shaky hands as she looks around for her car. This can’t happen. Not out in the public, not when she is easily recognizable by the people around her.

 

He hasn’t even contacted her all day long. She didn’t wanna be affected by it, she wants to brush it off so fucking bad.

 

But it feels like shit. Like she was used, and there comes the intrusive thoughts again.

 

He can’t be really playing her, can he? He wouldn't stoop that low. He wouldn’t.

 

How is she so sure, though?

 

Jina has done so many wrong things in so little time, no wonder Namjoon doesn’t even wanna look her way.

 

Jina spots her car. She sucks in a deep breath, closing her eyes for a few seconds. They’re watery and she can’t help the way her chest tightens. It’s a bit difficult to breathe like this, given her healing rib, but she can’t show that whatsoever.

 

She needs to get out of here soon. She’ll just pull out of here and park her car somewhere dark. Maybe she’ll be comfortable enough to let anything out, then.

 

Her mind is speeding up, nevertheless. The train of thoughts keeps accelerating, and it seems that she is unable to find any brakes to stoop on. 

 

Opening her eyes, the detective finds herself closer to her car. She pushes herself on her feet further, hands in tight fists in the pockets of her jacket. She keeps tightening then loosening them, trying to find any sense of relief in her current situation, but she only feels her head start to heat up.

 

Like a match tossed in gasoline, it only keeps getting hotter.

 

Jina feels as if she is about to explode. 

 

The car next to hers is bigger, so she only sees the hood of her car. So, naturally, if someone were to stand between the two cars, from Jina’s position, she wouldn’t notice them until she arrives in front of the car.

 

But when she finally does, Jina just freezes.

 

It’s quiet for a few seconds, both parties surprised, except that one is showing more emotions than the other.

 

“Chungha…”

 

Chungha, yet another wrong thing written in her very own book of regrets.

 

But does she really regret it?

 

Any of it?

 

“I couldn’t get a hold of you,” Chungha steps closer. Her eyes are a bit wide with desperation. “You’re not answering my calls or texts. I need to talk to you.”

 

“This isn’t really…” Jina trails off, inhaling past the lump in her throat. She feels the familiar, now improving pain from her ribs expanding. “A good time, Chungha. I need to—“

 

“I can’t let you go,” Chungha moves even closer, and Jina is dangerously close to her breaking point. “We need to talk, Jina. I can’t let you slip past my fingers like that.”

 

That only pushes the detective even more over the edge.

 

“I’m tired. It’s been a long day.”

 

Chungha stays quiet for a few seconds. Jina sees the disbelief morph on her face. “You know you’re being too harsh on me, don’t you?”

 

Jina tilts her head to the side. “I am?”

 

“You haven’t spoken a full sentence my way since that night but you’re getting along with everyone else just fine. That’s fucking unfair, Jina.”

 

It is, isn’t it?

 

“Everyone keeps saying Park Jina this, Park Jina that, and I know nothing of you. Nothing.” Chungha sounds angry, But Jina can hear the subtle shake in her voice. “You’re my friend. You always knew I'm not working in a very legal line of work yet you still stayed, what’s the difference now?”

 

“Difference is your boss threatened me with my mother,” Jina tells her. She still shows no emotion, for her mind is sucking every ounce of energy out of her to be able to do so. “He told me he’ll take us both out if I don't comply. I’m pretty sure you already knew that.”

 

“I didn’t know it was you!” Chungha exclaims. “I would’ve never let him do something like that if I knew it was you!”

 

Jina can’t come up with a reply. She just stays quiet, looking at her... friend, hoping a hole would just open in the ground and swallow her whole.

 

“Do you have any fucking idea how worried have I been?” Chungha grits her teeth. She’s trying not to let go of her emotions almost as much as Jina is. “When you and Hoseok were attacked… both of you at once, do you know how that felt?”

 

They must be… close.

 

“It felt like you betrayed me,” Jina manages to let out. Her voice is quiet and empty. “Do you know how that felt?”

 

“I’m so sorry,” Chungha closes the distance between them, just enough for Jina not to feel suffocated. She can still read her signs well, and a part of Jina is glad that she can. 

 

She looks sorry. Chungha is sincere, Jina can trust this much. 

 

And she’s right, what Jina is doing is unfair. Treating everyone else the way she does yet continues to ignore Chungha’s entire existence like her life depended on it. 

 

Hell, Jina even almost slept with her oh-so-evil boss only the night before. 

 

The thought of him makes her stomach turn.

 

Jina grabs her keys out of her pocket, abruptly throwing them in Chungha’s direction. “I’m tired. I’ll crash if I drive like this.”

 

Jina turns around and walks to the passenger door instead, while Chungha fully comprehends what the other just told her. 

Not a word was spoken throughout the ride to the penthouse, nor when they arrived. 

 

It’s quiet inside, dimly lit. Looks like Daeun isn’t home yet. The illumination of the city below makes the view look somewhat magical, it makes Jina want to sit down and count the twinkling lights until she falls asleep there on the big sofa.

 

Jina tells Chungha to wait until she changes out of her clothes, and the detective is once again faced with the clothes she took off this morning laid out on the bed in the room she’s supposed to be staying in.

 

Even behind a closed door, Jina is yet to allow herself to let out her pent up emotions. Her face remains stoic as she stares down at the folded clothes. 

 

Perhaps she shouldn’t have given him the tattoo. That was too irrational of her to do, too emotionally driven. Where did all of this blind trust come from?

 

Jina looks away from the clothes, eyes searching for the suitcases she is yet to unpack. She throws her phone, gun, wallet, and the pair of handcuffs she has on the bed and strides to the suitcases to start looking for something else to sleep in with heavy shoulders.

 

And with heavy shoulders, heavy feet, and a heavy head, Jina drags herself back out to the living area. 

 

Chungha doesn’t turn to her when she hears her footsteps. She just stays there with what seems to be a warm drink in her hand, and another one is still steaming on the coffee table in front of her. It’s the mug Hoseok made her tea in just yesterday.

 

Chungha is sitting where Jina wanted to sit, on the sofa facing the big glass walls, overlooking the veranda and the city below with all its colors blinking silently.

 

Going down a couple of steps, Jina walks between the big sofa in the middle and the smaller one to her right, before she lets herself fall to the soft cushions next to her friend with a weary sigh. She doesn’t try to put distance between them, which had Chungha subtly surprised for a couple of seconds there before she relaxes again. 

 

Jina pulls her legs to her chest after she bent down to grab her mug, then she holds it to her chest, letting its warmth overtake her for a few seconds until she is brought back to the freezing reality. 

 

“You know Namjoon found out about all of this, right?”

 

Chungha turns to her like she grew two more heads.

 

“Yeah, I told Hoseok a couple of days ago,” Jina nods, keeping her head straight. “Namjoon hasn’t been talking to me since. That was like… that’s almost a week ago. He hasn’t done anything about it either, Hoseok told me he’ll deal with him but I don't know what could happen.”

 

“I don’t think he’ll hurt him,” Chungha mumbles, some sort of sympathy in her voice. “Technically, Namjoon hasn’t done anything threatening. Hoseok can’t hurt him until he does something.”

 

“He said so,” Jina takes a sip of her, now that she focuses, hot choco. “But it’s been weird, not having either of you for a while. I mean, I'm used to being alone. I wouldn’t have either of you even if I wanted unless I had a death wish.”

 

“What makes you say that?”

 

“Your boss...well, bosses, made it very clear to show me just how capable they are. I can’t have a bullseye on Namjoon like that.” Jina says. A couple of seconds pass in silence, then she laughs lightly, looking at her friend. “But I couldn't even prevent that.” She laughs, throwing her head back on the sofa’s back. “And you, how was I supposed to face you like that? God, I never felt so betrayed. I can barely even look at you. Can’t even fully blame you either. I knew something big was behind you from the very first day. I was just waiting for it to come back and bite me in the ass.”

 

Chungha stays quiet, watching as her friend’s laughter dies down, but her smile remains intact.

 

They hold each other’s gazes like that for a while, and it finally feels like Jina’s rain is about to pour. 

 

“Hoseok’s a fucking asshole,” Jina tells her friend with a dangerously wide grin and glossy eyes. “Yoongi and Seokjin too.” Jina looks forward, bringing her drink to her lips with shaky hands. “Taehyung and Jeongguk make it so hard to hate them, though. I tried to villainize them too but it just didn’t work.” Jina giggles, looking down briefly at the thick drink before she raises her head to meet Chungha’s gaze again. “You’re an asshole too, you know? Namjoon too. Everyone’s just forcing me into scenarios I don’t want and I literally have nothing to do but to sit and watch them just move me like a fucking puppet.”

 

“Jina—”

 

“No, because not even Namjoon wants to hear me out. I don’t blame him, I wouldn't hear me out either. I don’t think I deserve such a luxury, but I had this hope, you know?” The detective’s voice weavers. She frowns, pushing past the thick knot tangling in her throat to push her unshed tears back down by all means necessary. “Because it’s Namjoon, I thought he’d hear me out, at least. He acts so fucking righteous even though we both fucking know how filthy the system is. I already knew this way before Taehyung talked to me about it.”

 

She throws her head back again, staring at the ceiling aimlessly. Dizziness swallows her for a split second, her head is getting hotter again. Her ears are heating up too. She doesn’t wanna explode, but it feels like she sprinted way past the stopping point.

 

“Why am I even telling you this?” Jina asks, voice empty again.

 

“Keep talking,” Chungha tells her softly. She abandons her mug on the coffee table, a hand settling on Jina’s thigh with a comforting squeeze. She sits on her knees, turning her body towards her friend. “I’ll listen. Keep talking. Swear at me more if you want to.”

 

“Why didn’t you tell Hoseok to let me go?” Jina questions with a choked voice that is barely audible.

 

“I knew he wouldn’t hurt you as long as you help us,” Chungha tells her sincerely. “We really need you, Jina. We really fucking do. Hoseok’s doing what he’s doing to protect his family and anyone would’ve done the same thing if they were in his place.”

 

So, basically, Chungha’s only cards were to either betray Jina, or her family. And she speaks with so much persistence that Jina realizes that betraying her family was never a card she could sacrifice.

 

It hurts, but Jina would’ve done the same thing too. 

 

They’re not just business partners like Jina first thought. Mafia families are much more loyal than mere colleges or filthy gang members; much, much more like an actual family. 

 

Jina would’ve done everything she could if it means her family remains untouched, too. 

 

“Hoseok’s twisted,” Chungha speaks again, looking down at where their skin is connected. “What he’s using against you is sick, but he’s a fucking mafia leader, Jina. What exactly do you expect from him?”

 

“That’s not an excuse.”

 

“I’m not saying it is,” Chungha shoots right away. “I’m saying he’s not a damn angel. Not even close. None of us are, not even you.”

 

Jina sits there, blank eyes staring at Chungha’s as she drinks in the words that just left her mouth. 

 

She’s not wrong. It stings, but she’s not wrong.

 

“I’m so fucking sorry you have to go through all of this, Jina. I truly am, but I never had anything to do about it except to trust Hoseok and Yoongi when they said you and Daeun will be kept safe until all of this is over, maybe even afterwards too. I would never let anything happen to you both, and by the way things are looking, I doubt Hoseok would too.”

 

Jina’s body runs cold, her warm drink long forgotten. “What?”

 

“He fucking ran to you when he as much as thought your life was threatened.” Chungha elaborates, and Jina just listens. Quiet, deep in thought, pathetically hanging onto her words. “Hoseok is a man of his word. He would never let anything happen to you or your mom.”

 

He told her so so many times before, but somehow, hearing the syllables with Chungha’s voice happens to lock it in and throw the key away, so that she has no other choice but to believe it. It’s naive, really, how much she still allows herself to be comforted by such words.

 

Although, Jina feels like the key has already been lost long ago.

 

She fucking hates him, Jung Hoseok. She hates him for making her feel so safe around him in so little time that she barely even noticed it until now.

 

Chungha moves a strand of hair gently out of Jina’s face as she continues to stare at her unblinkingly, pained eyes pouring into the detective’s. 

 

“You need to cry, Jina,” Chungha cups her cheek, and Jina sees her own eyes tear up at the words. “You can’t just keep holding everything in like this.”

 

“You know I don't like to.”

 

Chungha shakes her head a little. “I can’t leave you like this.” 

 

“Then don’t,” Jina says a bit too thoughtlessly, her pride failing to catch up and stop her. “Stay the night with me.”

 

Chungha nods, a little smile breaking her tearful expression. “I’ll stay.”

 

Maybe tomorrow's Jina will have other thoughts about the decision she took just now. But for now, Jina just wants to be held. To let her tears go, ones she’s been getting used to lately. 

 

And as Chungha holds her there on the couch, wrapping them both up in the throw blanket left on the armrest, Jina realizes that she, on top of all the other things, should have never allowed Hoseok to hold her tight and let her cry in his chest, whispering solace into her ears.

 

Because she’s been trying not to go back to being this person again, and the comfort she found in Hoseok’s arms opened up doors she wanted gone.

Notes:

:] ehehe

floof next chapter be ready✋🏻 amongst other things *rubs hands evilly*

id say this was a filler chapter but it had some important stuff here and there so that should do it! i honestly dont know when the next chapter will be, but since i already noted it down, hopefully it wont take too long<3

for those who are still here from the start, yall are the best i swear.

your comments and kudos always make my day:]<3

see you next update!

Chapter 15: quindici

Summary:

“Wait, what?” Jina cuts her off in disbelief. She leans forwards again, lowering her voice. “Kim Namjoon? You’re talking about Kim Namjoon?”

“Yes,” Jeongyeon nods. “We happen to be friends, him and i. He was the first choice I had besides contacting you.”

Notes:

exactly a month from last update who’s doing it like me
HELLO PEOPLE! I MADE A PLAYLIST 8 FOR OMERTA!! i constantly add songs to it that i think fits the story’s vibe, so go check it out<3

this chapter is FULL TO THE BRIM with action i was so excited about it AAANND im so excited for the next couple of chapter as well ehehehe

i reaaally really hope im not too late this month too, and i hope you enjoy this one to the max!! i start uni next week as well, so wish me luck!! ^~^

I’ll try my beat to update sooner this time for reasons that you’ll understand at the end of the chapter but i think im getting burned out, so i’ll push as much as i can!!

and as always, thank you so much for reading and giving this little writer a chance<3
your comments and kudos are always appreciated!!

Namjoon’s heart beats loudly in his tightening chest, the sound resonating through the entirety of his body. His palms are wet with the sweat of nerves. The blood rushes to his head at the satisfying click of the stubborn door opening, an invisible force pushing him to enter the dark apartment. 

 

And he lets it move him, his body buzzing with what he could call adrenaline, but is actually just a mixture of nerve-wracking anxiety with sprinkling anger falling all over it like glitter. The betrayal feels fresh again after Seokjin’s visit as if time has stopped since then, and it’s only resuming now. His gun feels heavy in his hands, just like it did the night he heard the false bullet pierce through the air. 

 

Namjoon pulls the safety off, even though he knows deep down that he can never really hurt him. 

 

Any of them.

 

The door closes quietly as Namjoon strolls inside, feet silently thumping against the tiled floor. It’s dark, the only source of light being a dim ray from a nearby hallway that Namjoon presumes leads to the rooms. And since the area in front of him looks too quiet for someone to be awake, he picks that hallway as his destination. 

 

His noisy heart gets quieter and quieter the more he approaches the first door. His thoughts narrow down to one name, all the spotlights falling on it, but before he can even place his hand on the doorknob, he feels something heavy and cold press to the back of his head.

 

“I think you’re trespassing.”

 

If that’s possible, his voice has gotten even deeper.

 

Namjoon relaxes his body, slowly raising his arms up in mock defeat. “Ah, my bad.’ He turns around just as slowly, letting the firearm drag across his skull like a nail snagging on fabric until it finally rests on his forehead instead.

 

His old partner looks so confused for a split second. He blinks once, twice, thrice, and the look soon turns into disbelief, into utter shock. His asymmetric eyes widen, the curly dark hair covering what really lies behind them of emotions.

 

“Hyung…?” Taehyung finally lets out, breathless and ragged.

 

“Let’s see if you’ll shoot or miss this time.”

------

Jina has been hating her tears for years and years, that the suppression became a normal function of her body. The feeling would come, still sweep her up and carry her to places she wishes not to visit, but Jina learned how to master her way of showcasing the sadness that engulfs her.

 

When it gets too heavy, which is more often than not, she just locks herself up somewhere inaccessible and weeps silently into whatever object she has. Whether it’s a pillow, a towel, or just the palms of her hands, they soak in salty tears that leave her body drained and her eyes hurting.

 

Although she misses the comfort of gentle traces attending to her wounds and bruises, wiping her tears so softly as if to compensate her for all the malicious things she had faced in her way of growing up, Jina can’t go back to this. 

 

Showing, dare she say ‘weakness’, is something she should get punished for, as written in her dictionary with letters of crimson and pain, written by a filthy tongue and cruel hands of the man so unmerciful.

 

The only time she had lost control in front of him after years of suppression, was the day Jina grabbed her mother and whatever they could gather of their belongings and just fled. She was 18, freshly graduated thanks to the miracle that is her and her mother’s hard work, moving from one part-time job to another. She was Jimin’s age when he left.

 

There wasn’t anything special about that night. Jina was in her’s and Jimin’s previously shared room, counting sheep until she either falls asleep or hears the jingle of her father’s keys being thrown on the dining table. 

 

And as she feared, it was the latter.

 

Her stomach turned when she heard it, the slam of the door and his keys hitting the glass of the table.  Her breath hitches and she curls herself into the comforter, and she prays to anyone that’s listening not to hear the door of her room creaking open.

 

Even when he doesn’t feel like putting much effort, he always just comes in, turns off the lights Jina keeps open, and locks the door on her until the next morning when her mother sneaks out to unlock it.

 

But he didn’t do that. Instead, Jina recognizes the sound of his footsteps stumbling in the opposite direction of her room, towards the one he shares with her mother.

 

Jina let out a sigh of relief, thinking that this night would pass quietly, but her relief was very short-lived.

 

Daeun’s voice comes muffled from the other side of their small apartment. Jina hears them talking, and her mother’s voice doesn’t sound very friendly. She couldn’t hear what their argument was about, but the volume eventually kept getting higher until she could.

 

“And I said I don’t feel like it.”

 

“Who the fuck told I was asking?” His voice was dripping with venom.

 

“You don’t just run around fucking every available hole and spend my hard-owned money on the shit you do then come back to me begging to get your dick wet. I’ve had it with your fucking bullshit, Kyungho.”

 

“Maybe if you didn’t ruin yourself the way you did I wouldn’t have looked outside.”

 

“You know what? It’s my fucking fault for ever believing someone as rotten as you are can actually be a decent human being.”

 

“Decent?” Kyungho laughed, and Jina heard her mother let out a noise of protest. “Looks like you forgot where you came from, you fucking whore.”

 

Jina heard it, then. The loud thump.

 

Her mind went into override. She grabbed the baseball bat she kept under Jimin’s old bed and opened the door, nothing on her mind but the thought of someone as filthy as Park Kyungho laying a finger on her mother.

 

Her legs leap in long, determined strides, seeing the light creeping from the bedroom door that stills slightly ajar. Jina kicked it right open. 

 

The already wide eyes widen even more. Her mother is down on the floor by the wall, clutching her cheek with a grim expression that eventually turns into obvious worry as Jina steps in. Kyungho barely has a chance to turn around before Jina slams the bat across his back, making him topple over to the floor on top of her mother.

 

“Jina, no!”

 

Jina couldn’t hear her mother’s voice over the sound of her blood rushing to her head. She drops the bat and grabs him by the back of his shirt to pull him off of Daeun and on his back, leaving her enough space to stand between them.

 

“What the fuck…” The man moaned out, his eyes squeezed shut as he arched his stinging back off of the floor. 

 

He opened his eyes back up too soon, eyebrows furrowing in visible fury. He said something that is apparently offending by the way his lips pull back in a hiss, started getting back up, quickly reaching a hand beside him to find something to hurt her with.

 

Jina doesn’t know how she ended up on top of him with her fists continuously meeting the bones of his face, but she remembers that every punch made her sobs become harsher. All she remembers was the way she kept screaming in his face, spilling out everything she’s ever wanted to say to him since the very first day he laid hands on her like her life depended on it, and maybe it did.

 

She didn’t know how to stop. There was blood everywhere and his face wasn’t recognizable anymore. He managed to get a blow on her once or twice, but Jina didn’t feel anything.

 

She didn’t stop until she was physically pulled back into a familiar embrace, knuckles bloody and bruised.

 

Daeun was crying too, Jina remembers well. Seeing her cry made Jina’s pain multiply, but that didn’t stop her from pulling her mother out of the room, shaky hands picking the baseball bat back up. The pair gather what they need, leaving Kyungho’s unconscious body spiraled out on the bedroom floor and ran out into the night with nowhere else to go.

The obnoxious buzz coming from the coffee table pulls her out of a dreamless sleep unwillingly. Waking up with heavy eyes and a drained body was one of the consequences Jina had left unattended the night before. The decision hunts her now, fatigue clinging on her back as a possessing ghost would. 

 

Her arms are wrapped around someone, and it takes her a few seconds to remember the events of the night before. Jina and Chungha are still in the living area, wrapped like burritos in a couple of blankets that she doesn’t remember having last night. 

 

The sofa is thankfully big enough for both of them to be too comfortable to want to get up, but the sun is irritatingly bright for Jina’s already hurting eyes. The whole penthouse is torched with blinding light rays of the freshly risen sun since Hoseok decided that having glass for walls was a good idea, even though this part of the penthouse is facing west and the sun is currently on the other side of the place.

 

Jina moans out the moment she flutters her eyes open, bringing her available hand to her eyes. Chungha is still fast asleep, breathing deeply with the littlest of frowns wrinkling between her eyebrows. Jina is thankfully the one on the outside, giving her the opportunity to slip her arms swiftly away from her friend and topple down on the floor. 

 

Chungha whines out sleepily at the loss of contact, stretching out a hand to where Jina was laying only seconds ago. Jina feels her fingertips brushing against her back, but Chungha begins to breathe deeply again, drifting back to her dreamland.

 

Jina blindly reaches for her phone as it begins to buzz again. Unable to open her eyes enough to see who’s calling, she just presses on where she knows the green button would be and pulls the phone up to her ears with wobbly fingers.

 

“Hello?” Sleep is clear in her voice.

 

“Sunbae,” A familiar voice that is equally as sleepy as hers replies, and it takes her a few moments to realize that it’s Jongho. “We have an emergency briefing for the case today. Boss just called and said we have to make it there early.”

 

She’s still struggling to open her eyes. “What time is it?”

 

“It’s…” He pauses, probably checking the time. “Six fifty. We gotta be there by… I think he said eight.”

 

Jina leans on the sofa for support as she gets up to her feet. She turns away from the light with a groan, putting her hands on her eyes as she attempts to move from the area. She makes it past the sofa just fine, only to tumble down at the first step of three that she forgot existed. 

 

The phone is obnoxiously loud as it crashes onto the ceramic. Jina lets out a yelp that quickly transitions into a loud groan of pain as her face meets the smooth floor, ribs directly struck with the sharp edge of the step. She puts a hand to the ground and pushes her upper body up, a hand flying to the rib she’s apparently so keen on cracking again.

 

Jongho’s speaking loudly from the phone, Jina can hear it clearly, while Chungha sits up, still half asleep, eyes immediately falling on her friend.

 

“What happened?” Chungha mumbles with one eye open. 

 

Jina waves a dismissive hand as she pulls herself up to her feet again, this time with a bit more of a struggle. She picks up her phone, throwing her head back with eyes squeezed shut as she tries to ignore the pain coming from her rib. “I just fell. Go back to sleep, it’s still early.”

 

“Huh?” Chungha looks like she had a good sleep, because, despite Jina’s pain, she still sighs out a pained chuckle at the way her friend’s hair is dramatically flying in different directions. She looks puzzled at the scene, one of her eyes still refusing to open. “Where are you going?”

 

“I got called in,” Jina tells her, this time looking down at where her feet are going as she takes the three steps. “Go back to sleep. It’s not even seven yet.”

 

“Okay, okay,” Chungha nods sleepily, her own eyes also puffy since she couldn’t let Jina cry on her own. “Okay, yeah. Too early.” She leans her hands down on the sofa, giving Jina a little wave before she disappears into the cushions. Her voice comes out muffled, then. “Good luck. Be safe, huuh?”

 

Jina rolls her eyes and nods, even though her friend can’t see her. She pulls the phone back to her ear. 

 

“I fell, don’t ask,” Jina tells her colleague, now more awake as she navigates her way through the vast penthouse to make her way to her room. “What were we saying?”

 

“Eight,” Jongho also sounds more awake now. And maybe he sounds like he’s trying not to laugh. “We need to be gathered at eight.”

 

“Alright, I’ll be there at eight.”

 

It takes Jina around twenty minutes to freshen up and get dressed, giving her a little time to spare. She makes sure she has everything she needs and is ready to go, but her feet end up taking her to her mother’s room instead.

 

She knocks, and Daeun’s sweet voice calls back almost immediately. “Come in, darling.”

 

Jina opens the door, letting her head peak first, and she can’t stop the smile that paints itself on her lips. 

 

“Woah, someone’s having a good morning.” 

 

Daeun giggles girlishly, the sun painting her skin with a glow Jina barely ever saw on her. She’s sitting in the fancy little area by the big window with two chairs and a table, a steaming cup of tea in her hand. Some soft, old music that Jina recognizes is coming from her phone as it sits on the table. Daeun is smiling brightly up at her daughter.

 

Jina steps in, closing the door behind her. “You’re already dressed too. Is it Christmas already? Someone’s birthday?” She teases, approaching her mother to sit down on the chair across from her. “Yours isn’t for a few months and Jimin’s just passed, though.”

 

“Oh, shut it, you big mouth.” Daeun makes a threat of throwing her phone at Jina. “Don’t ruin my mood. The sun hasn’t been out in a while and I haven’t taken some time to myself in so long.” She brings her cup to her mouth, looking out of the window for a few seconds, eyes glazing over the view in front of her. “It’s kinda nice,” She looks at Jina, a little smile returning to her lips. “It’s been a while since I last felt completely safe. I can sleep better at night.”

 

It is kinda nice. Jina had felt it too; the night she spent with he-who-shall-not-be-named until she is ready to face reality again.

 

“I came back and found you two already fast asleep,” Daeun says, lowering the cup down as she rests her wrist on her crossed knee. That explains the blankets Jina found on her and Chungha. “You didn’t eat dinner, did you?”

 

Jina shakes her head.

 

“You better get some actual breakfast that isn’t coffee because I’ll bring food and shove it down your throat if I hear that you didn’t.” 

 

“Woh,” Jina lets out, leaning back in her seat with disbelief written on her face. “So violent and for what?”

 

“You haven’t been eating well lately. I have to take matters into my own hands,” Daeun says casually, shrugging her shoulders as she takes a sip of her drink again. It looks like it was the last sip because daeun leans forwards and puts her cup in its respective tea plate with a clink. “Why are you up early, anyway?”

 

“I got called in for a briefing,” Jina sighs. “I came to ask if you’d want me to drive you to work today since it’s on the way.”

 

Daeun smiles softly, giving Jina a nod. “That would be nice, yes.”

 

Jina smiles back, and there is some unspoken feeling lingering in the air between them. Something calm, something they haven’t been able to experience lately, and among the current quietness of her brain, she realizes that maybe, despite everything, she’s a little grateful for Hoseok for allowing them such a luxury that they could barely ever afford.

 

Daeun gathers her stuff and puts them in her purse before they move from the room. She takes the empty cup with her and tells Jina to come with her to the kitchen first so she can put it in the dishwasher. And since Jina decided to complain about being dragged with her on the way, daeun gives it to her so she could do it herself instead.

 

Jina hears her mother push the refrigerator door behind her closed as she bends down to place the little cup in the dishwasher. She dries her hands and turns around grumpily, only to find Daeun putting a hand out with something in it.

 

“That’s for some energy until you eat,” It’s an apple. Jina grabs it from her, a bit taken aback, but Daeun pulls her other hand from behind her back, presenting it to Jina like the other, and there lies an ice pack wrapped in a towel. “And that’s for your eyes.”

 

It takes Jina a couple of seconds of confusion, then it clicks just how nastily puffy her eyes have looked in the mirror a few minutes ago.

 

When Jina hastily tries to grab it, too, from her hand, Daeun doesn’t let go. She takes a step closer, a hand reaching up to cup her daughter’s cheek lovingly.

 

“As much as it pains me to see you like this, and as worrying as it is to see you reach this limit,” Daeun softly speaks, her thumb gently tracing underneath Jina’s eye. “I’m glad you’re finally letting it out.”

 

Jina doesn’t know how to react to the sudden change of atmosphere, but she doesn’t like it when she feels her eyes sting with newly found tears

 

“I know you’re doing your best to be strong, you always were, always will be. But I always wished you would just… let yourself feel the things you feel,” Daeun goes on, and there are tears in her own eyes too. She averts her eyes to her daughter’s hair, and she raises a hand to smother a rogue strand down. She brings her gaze to hers again, and Jina seems to be too weak to resist the tears now. “But he’s not here anymore. He’s locked away somewhere he deserves. It’s just me, baby, hmm?”

 

A little tear escapes past Jina’s waterline. She nods repeatedly, trying her best to plant her mother’s words in her fuzzy head.

 

“You’re doing so well,” Daeun tells her daughter, who looks away out of habit so her mother won’t see her cry. But Daeun pulls her head back towards her, letting Jina look down and let her tears fall silently. “You’re always making me the proudest mother I could be. You grew so well, sweetheart. So well, despite everything you saw. You should always keep this in mind, hmm?”

 

Jina nods again as a quiet sob rocks her body, unable to look up, but Daeun soon pulls her in for a much-needed embrace. 

 

“You never deserved any of it, Jina. I’m so, so sorry I couldn’t give you the life you deserve.”

Jina felt somewhat lighter after her little conversation with her mother. It’s not unusual between them, affirmation and care, but Daeun just managed to pick the right time as always. They kept talking through the whole ride, giggles filling the usual dullness of Jina’s car with big smiles thrown here and there. 

 

Daeun was right. The sun feels nice today, it’s kinda warm despite the early morning. It makes her feel a little better about the events today will deliver to her, maybe something good could come out of it. 

 

The mention of Jimin’s name was frequent on daeun’s tongue through the ride, and Jina could see that it’s one of the days where his loss feels a little too real to her, which forces Jina’s otherwise avoidant mind to think about him too. They weren’t talking about anything bad, but the reminiscence of the days that felt too warm to let go of made their hearts break just a little .

 

Because it’s not fair. None of it is. Sometimes Jina feels a little betrayed that Jimin never tried to reach them again after Kyungho had threatened to seriously injure one of them if he tried to interfere again, but as she grew up, she realized that her brother must be hurting just as much as she and her mother are. Wherever he is.

 

Jina just hopes he’s alive. 

 

With one last giggle, Jina drops her mother off in front of the cafe with a wave. She waits until she unlocks the door and enters. After making sure that the dark car that has been tailing them since they exited the parking lot had safely parked some distance away, Jina steps on the gas pedal to take her own route.

 

The detective munches on her apple as she scans her id through the electronic gates to let her in. Since it’s early, it’s not as crowded as it usually is. A couple of people are waiting by the elevator she’s approaching. She settles behind them, and the elevator thankfully arrives right away. There is someone else coming their way, trying to catch the elevator, and as Jina steps inside, a whiff of a familiar cologne makes her stomach twist.

 

When she turns around to face the front of the now closing doors, Jina is met with a pair of dragon eyes that manage to just stare right into her soul.

 

For some reason, Namjoon doesn’t immediately look away as he usually does. They hold each other’s gaze for a few seconds, leaving too many words unsaid in the quietness of the ascending elevator until they both decide to simultaneously look away from each other.

 

Once the doors are opened enough for Jina’s smaller body to fit through, she exits it with an exhale that feels too shaky for her liking.

 

What was it again that she said about this being a good day?

 

It wasn’t long after that the division was gathered in Jeongsu’s office, reporting everything they have hands on to each other and their boss. Which wasn’t a lot, really.

 

Ahn Changmin is still refusing to talk. They keep trying with him, but Jeongsu said that the bastard even tried to commit suicide instead of having to utter a word out. Jina tells them that she has found nothing on the tattoo she found on the back of his ear so far, and Jeongsu suggests that maybe it isn’t related to anything, but Jina can only confirm that when Hoseok comes back to her about it.

 

Jeongsu asks about the autopsy report, one that they are yet to receive, and Jina takes a mental note to pay forensics a visit today.

 

There is a constant twist in Jina’s gut at Namjoon’s continuous silence, only interrupted to hum out in agreement or just muttering already known facts. It distracts her a couple of times, her thoughts involuntarily dragging her to the person sitting to her side, and maybe the fact that he still chose to sit by her side like he always did, made Jina’s mind pathetically hopeful again. 

 

But his quietness is still making Jina feel uneasy. Something must be off, but she can never be sure of what goes on in his mind anymore.

 

Her hope dies again when Namjoon switches with Jongho to go patrol with Yunho, staying anywhere else that Jina isn’t.

 

Damn her for ever thinking this could be a good day. It’s no different than any other day from the past few weeks, ones where she just sits on her desk with whatever paperwork there is since she’s assigned to stay put until her injury is healed while everyone does the work she’s supposed to be doing.

 

Jina was never one for lazing around. She’s always running on her feet from one place to another, and after taking a break from that to actually sit on her ass, she realizes that it really never was for her.

 

At least it’s loud enough in the station to deny her mind any intrusive thoughts, ey?

 

Two neighbors came at mid-day, both a bit bloody and disheveled. Something about one keeping the television too high for the other to be able to work at home, neither of them wanted to settle. They just kept barking at each other while Jina watched her lunch break pass by. The day literally couldn’t get any worse.

 

She ended up locking both of them up when they decided to jump at each other again. Jongho was kind enough to get her something to eat while Siwon took another report that eventually came in. 

 

Halfway through her meal, Jina’s phone buzzes on the table in front of her. Lightening up, she sees that it’s a number she doesn’t have saved, and her head clashes when she tries to see if this is a good thing or a bad thing.

 

Because you see, there is a name she hopes to see on the caller Id that is yet to call, and her pathetic little brain fucks her over with emotional nausea once more when she thinks about it.

 

Jina shakes her head as if to physically shake away the thoughts while she picks her phone up and pushes it to her ear. “Hello?”

 

“Uh, you’re Lieutenant Park Jina, right?”

 

Jina leans back in her seat, a slight frown wrinkling between her eyebrows. “This is her.”

 

“Hello, I’m Dr. Yoo Jeongyeon from the National Forensics Services. I’ve been working on Baek Jonwoo’s corpse.”

 

Jina almost chokes. She covers her messy mouth with a hand, eyes a bit wider than they were just seconds ago. “Oh, I’ve been waiting for your call.”

 

“I know, I’m sorry it took this long” The doctor sounds like she’s in a hurry. “I’m sorry, but can we meet somewhere? I don’t think I should be giving you this information on a phone call.”

 

“Sure! I’ll be right there—”

 

“No, not the lab,” Jeongyeon cuts Jina off, who lets out a sound of confusion. “We can’t talk there, nor at the station. I’ll send you a location for a cafe nearby, please come alone and make sure you aren’t followed.”

 

“Dr. Yoo, is everything okay?”

 

“I’m on my way right now. Please don’t be late.”

 

The call ends, and Jina slowly lets her hand slide down from her ear. This is definitely not the call she was expecting. If anything, instead of the relief she thought she would get from this call, her stomach twists in distress.

 

Not even a minute later, The detective’s phone buzzes again. Dr. Yoo sent her an address that Jina finds awfully familiar before her eyes hover over the name of the cafe.

 

J’s .

 

She doesn’t bother moving her unfinished meal somewhere else. It takes less than two minutes to gather her stuff and exit the building, and she’s glad it doesn’t hurt as much as it used to when she walks, so she just pushes herself to move in a slight jog. It still hurts, still makes her wanna stab a knife through her rib and just end it altogether, but her mind is too concerned about everything else to pay any mind to her physical state.

 

It’s a rush hour, nearing sunset, so Jina speeds a bit more than she should when she can. Her eyes keep diverting to the time on her dashboard every five seconds to make sure she’s not too late. The fact that Dr. Yoo specifically chose J’s makes her paranoid brain jump from one conclusion to another, considering the tone she spoke in, soo hushed and hurried, it only makes Jina’s foot press more on the pedal so she can make sure her mother is safe before anything.

 

When she arrives, Jina dashes through the door, doing her best not to look too hurried. Her eyes scan through the area, and right before she starts panicking, her mother makes an appearance from behind the staff room’s door.

 

Daeun makes a move to greet her, but Jina subtly shakes her head no. Her mother’s hand lowers down and her smile falters a bit before she turns to one of her employees as if Jina was never truly there.

 

Dr. Yoo wouldn’t sit somewhere of high exposure; Near the exit or the windows, so Jina doesn’t waste time looking at the people sitting there. She walks deeper into the cafe, looking for a face that could be even remotely familiar.

 

But instead, Jina finds a lonely customer sitting in a booth at the far end of the area, wearing a baseball hat that covers dyed blonde hair that’s similar in height to her own. It’s covering the top half of her face, and she must’ve sensed that somebody is watching her because she hugs herself tighter in her coat and pushes herself further to the wall.

 

Jina takes one more look around, making sure that nobody’s looking their way before she starts approaching the doctor.

 

“Dr. Yoo?” Jina calls once she is close enough. The doctor looks up at her, eyes a bit wide, before she lets out a not-very-discreet sigh of relief. “I’m—“ 

 

“I know… I know who you are.” Jeongyeon nods, standing up with an extended hand. Jina puts her hand in hers for a shake, and she can’t help but notice how shaky the doctor’s hand is. “Pleasure to finally meet you.”

 

Jina frowns a bit, sliding in the seat opposite to her. “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting for long.”

 

Jeongyeon shakes her head, forcing a little assuring smile. She’s bouncing her knees under the table. “I arrived a few minutes ago. You don’t have to worry about it.”

 

“So,” Jina looks around again. She tries to return her smile when she looks back at her, hoping to manage to calm her obvious nerves down a bit. “What’s so important that you couldn’t tell me about it on the phone?”

 

The doctor swallows, looking up at Jina from the table. “Someone’s trying to cover up the evidence I found.” 

 

“What?”

 

“Beak Jonwoo’s cause of death was suffocation,” Jeongyeon is speaking quickly, stumbling over the words. “His trachea is broken and I found a rope mark around his neck. Whoever did it probably just choked him to death then crashed the car with him inside to cover it up. I found nothing on him. No handprints on him nor on whatever’s left of the car, only bruises and wounds that are caused by the car crash.”

 

Jina leans back in her seat, puzzlement clear in her eyes. “Why would anyone wanna hide something like this?”

 

“Because I found Jonwoo’s phone on him.” 

 

Jina feels tingles in her head, and her expression falls.

 

“I was told not to give it in as evidence the moment I found it. I found it weird and tried asking why not, the only answer I got was because it’s smashed anyways, I’m no tech, but this phone could definitely be fixed.”

 

“Who told you not to give it in?”

 

“My supervisor,” Jeongyeon nervously takes a look around, seeming to be just as paranoid as Jina is, if not even more. Like some little prey looking out for eagles in the sky. “I was told not to reach out to you specifically, but detective Kim was with me on the line since I received the body. I told—”

 

“Wait, what?” Jina cuts her off in disbelief. She leans forwards again, lowering her voice. “Kim Namjoon? You’re talking about Kim Namjoon?”

 

“Yes,” Jeongyeon nods. “We happen to be friends, him and i. He was the first choice I had besides contacting you.” 

 

She digs in her pockets with both hands, and she pulls out an old phone, and another one of a much higher model, and Jina can clearly tell which is which. She doesn’t put them on the table, doesn’t expose them to the eagle's awaiting eyes that could be watching, only showing them both in front of her chest before hiding them under the table again. “I told him everything and he got me this burner to contact you right away. He said you’ll know what to do.”  

 

He said you’ll know what to do.

 

The patheticness of hope clings to her tighter now. To her brain, like some sort of disease that does nothing but suffocate her, yet makes her heart beat with the igniting fire of rising hope. 

 

‘Well, he fucking lied.’ Jina wants to say. ‘I have no idea what to do.’

 

“This is dangerous, Dr. Yoo,” Jina tells her. She licks her lips, the newly-added information scattering everything out of place. “They’ll find out you took the phone, that is if they already haven’t.”

 

“They haven’t, I have eyes inside,” Jeongyeon reassures Jina, even though she’s probably the one that needs reassurance. “I took a leave already. I have a plane to catch in an hour. I’m not coming back until all of this is over.”

 

“You need to stay somewhere safe,” Jina tells her. “I’m pretty sure this is the same person that tried to take me out.”

 

“I’ll try my best,” Jeongyeon lets out a nervous chuckle, and Jina feels bad. 

 

The doctor looks down, probably at the phones, then she bends down towards the wall. Jina hears a little click, and Jeongyeon subtly kicks something towards Jina, before she gets up to her feet, raising the hood of her coat over her head. 

 

“Good luck, Detective Park.”

 

Yoo Jeongyeon’s parting steps are eager. She looks left and right, hooded eyes scanning the cafe like she’s becoming an eagle herself. An eagle with a broken wing, frail and terrified of being caught by the stronger ones.

 

Jina waits until the doctor is out of sight, until she hears the chimes of the bells on the door, then she bends down and wraps her hands around the foreign object her fingertips meet.

 

Something stings the tip of her index finger, and Jina withdraws her hand back up from beneath the table quickly to inspect the patch of skin that has now broken open, a tiny piece of glass stuck inside. 

 

She picks it out of her skin, grumpily throwing it away before raising her finger to her lips and bending down with the other hand. This time, she spreads her fingers carefully, bending her head down beneath the table to see where she’s going. 

 

And the phone is smashed alright. The screen has a crack in every available patch, and some places even show what lies beyond. It’s dark, a few models too old, but Jeongyeon guessed right when she said it can be fixed just fine. 

 

But who would fix it? She can’t give it to anyone in the station, nor anyone that has any relation with anyone inside. She needs someone she trusts to carry out such a job, and at the moment, that someone doesn’t exist.

 

She can give it to Namjoon, let’s say he even actually agrees to meet up with her somewhere, which she thinks he would, but the little nagging voice of anxiety pulls her back. 

 

Besides, he told Jeongyeon to give it to Jina. He must’ve done this for a reason, and Jina decides that, despite everything, she will trust his judgment.

 

Hoseok? She could give it to him. He can definitely deal with this just fine. But would he get back to her with what's hidden inside the dead cellphone? 

 

The constant state of paranoia she’s in tells her no, but everything else says yes. 

 

The sun has set outside, Jina realizes that as she hurries between fully seated tables. On her way out of J’s, Jina finds her mother with a tight expression before the counter, and she gives her a hurried nod of reassurance as she steps back towards the glass door. 

 

The chimes ring in her ear once more as she lets the door close on its own, giving her mom one last look. 

 

The detective accidentally bumps into someone’s shoulder, making her stumble back a couple of steps. With no time to waste on pleasantries, Jina throws a quick apology to the shadow she bumped into, a person covered in darkness from head to toe, with no face visible to look at.

 

She brings out her phone with her free hand, looking for a certain contact before pulling it to her ear as she jogs to where she parked her car. 

 

When the automated voice message meets her ear, telling her that the phone is turned off, Jina curses Hoseok under her breath as she gets into her car. 

 

It’s past six. He must’ve left work already, so she takes off to go home instead. 

————————

It’s so bright inside. So bright and cozy and warm, the exact opposite of the atmosphere Jimin keeps himself stuck in.

 

He’s been doing this for a few days. Goes there at sunset, dark clothes with the hood of his jacket shadowing his face, and he just loses track of time until his feet beg him for mercy.

 

He stays outside the big, glass windows of the cozy cafe that has his initials for a name, hoping that the more he watches his mother’s eyes light up, the more courage he will build to finally hold her in his arms again.

 

But it’s been days. It’s been days and he only gets more terrified.

 

She’s always behind the counter, disappearing behind the wall to her right every now and then, only to reappear minutes afterward. She’s still bright, still treats her baked goods with care as she gives them to her customers with a big smile on her face. 

 

It warms Jimin’s heart, seeing her like this. The mere thought that she finally got to do what she ached for after years and years of endless suffering, it all brings tears to Jimin’s eyes.

 

So he stands there, hands in pockets with tears in his very tired eyes, and he watches his mother from afar. He watches, and he tries to convince himself that this is enough for now. That he will finally stand before her when he’s ready.

 

For now, he just wants to have enough of her like this. To watch her eyes light up when she sees her favorite customer and pat her employees on the back for doing such a good job.

 

Fuck, he can almost hear her voice in his head.

 

Today, though, fate had other plans for him.

 

Because amidst his failed attempt to get out of her way, his sister still bumps into him, like a string has pulled them closer. He brings a hand up to keep his hood on top of his head, an arm involuntarily reaching out to grab her.

 

What are the odds of both of them being just an arm’s reach away from him at the same time after so, so long? 

 

Yet, he can’t move. He stays frozen, eyes widening with what he can only address as agony.

 

Jina stumbles back, eyes in a daze, never making an effort to look into his. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

 

And that's it. That’s all he gets before she hurries away.

 

And maybe that’s just what he deserves. An accidental encounter without as much as eye contact.

 

Jimin doesn’t know when it started raining, but the sound of his subtle sobs started getting muffled by the harsh rain. He stumbles back from the window, a hand covering his eyes and he wails, uncaring for the curious eyes that he feels on him with every fleeting bypasser. 

 

“W-wuh…Why?” He asks no one in particular, looking up to the grey, suffocating skies. 

 

The harsh raindrops force his face down at once, mixing with the heavy tears on his reddening cheeks. He turns around, giving his back to the brightness of the cafe, and he flops down on the sidewalk.

 

How will he allow himself to be wrapped in his mother’s embrace, now that he is what he is? How will he face her, look her in the eye when he’s become just like him ?

 

After everything she did for him, how can he be such a disappointment?

 

It hurts. It hurts in his chest, in his head, all the way down to his fingertips. He feels it in his whole body; the aching need to storm in and throw himself in her arms. 

 

Jimin raises his knees, forcing his head up again. He closes his eyes, feeling the raindrops like bullets against his skin, while he remains exposed, no bulletproof vest in sight. 

 

He isn’t sobbing anymore. The tears continue to flow past his waterline in silence, a pained expression painted on his face with the brushes of the agony he feels inside his bones.

 

Fate, what a twisted thing. 

 

He hates it. Hates every part of it.

 

Maybe he shouldn’t reveal himself. Maybe she’s happy like this, maybe his appearance will only bring her and Jina pain.

 

Does he even deserve the salvation of having both of them again? 

 

Yoongi told him that he deserves the whole world to bend at his will. Yoongi always tells him that he deserves everything good, it started clearing the shame and guilt he felt after leaving his family behind. But does he really deserve his family back?

 

Yoongi tells him he does, too. But Jimin can’t believe him just yet.

 

He’s afraid that by the time Yoongi repeats those words in his ears enough times for him to believe, it would be too late.

 

Yoongi. Yoongi .

 

Jimin needs to call him to get him out of here. He can’t stay here any longer, and if left for too long he will just do something that he will regret.

 

Jimin fumbles to find his phone in the pocket of his soaked hoodie, covering it with his body to aid it from the harsh rain. He presses on the most recent contact and pushes it to his ear. 

 

It’s cold, his hands are turning red, and he can almost feel them start to get numb. He should’ve worn something to keep him warm.

 

It rings, and Jimin turns his free hand into a shaking fist as he rubs it up and down on his raised knee in a failed attempt to make himself warmer.

 

But the moment he hears a click coming from the other side of the phone, the rain stops hitting him.

 

“Yoongi…” He lets out wearily. 

 

His eyes snap forwards, thinking that it just suddenly stopped raining, but he can still see the falling drops soak his shoes.

 

Jimin feels a hand settle on his shoulder, firm. There’s an umbrella casting its shadows upon him from above, and Jimin holds his breath.

 

“Jimin?” He hears Yoongi call from the phone as he slides it down from his ear.

 

“When were you going to come in?” A very familiar voice says shakily, and Jimin’s whole world feels like it’s about to tumble down. “Hmm?”

 

The hand on his shoulder slides down to his chest, and he feels the person behind him kneel down. Jimin bites down on his lower lip, maybe harder than he should, trying too hard not to break right then and there. He can still hear Yoongi’s voice coming from the phone that’s now in his lap, but he can’t focus on anything else but his mother’s voice.

 

She pulls him closer, wrapping her other hand around him, still careful to keep the umbrella covering them.

 

 “Did you think I wouldn’t notice you coming here every day?” Her voice is still shaky, but gentle. She’s holding her tears back. “Did you think I wouldn’t recognize my own son?”

 

One of Jimin’s hands raises, trembling as he finds hers across his chest, and he holds it tight. Like she’s still made of smoke and painful dreams, would disappear if he ever loosens his grip.

 

“Were you going to leave me again, you punk?” Daeun, too, tightens her hold on her son. She pulls him close, close, close, and even closer once she feels his body rock against hers in a broken sob. 

 

“Muh-Mom,” Jimin manages to mumble, barely able to form any other words. He feels Daeun plant a gentle kiss on his temple, breathing in deeply. “I’m s—so sorry.”

 

“Shh,” She hushes softly, and Jimin is moving in her arms to face her instead. Her free hand immediately finds its rightful place on his cheek. He holds her by the sleeves of her coat, eyes red and so, so, so sad as they pour endlessly into hers. “My sweet, sweet boy.”

“Jimin?”

 

They’re all in now. Hoseok does a headcount just to be sure. Seokjin is naturally leading them in, looking the sharpest as he strides confidently in his fitted suit. Jeongguk and Taehyung are close by his side, while San and Wooyoung fall a few steps behind, and their trail ends with Hongjoong who seems to be watching over them like a hawk.

 

Momo and Mingi stop by the metal door the rest just passed through, and a little chuckle erupts from Hoseok when Momo had to make a show of the other guard standing by the door as she shoves him away from his position with a harsh shoulder to stand in his place.

 

“I’m in position,” Dahye’s voice booms in Hoseok’s ear. “I have eyes on the entrance.”

 

“Jimin??” Yoongi repeats, finally gaining Hoseok’s attention. The younger turns away from the screens displayed in front of him to look at his friend, and the other’s expression makes his stomach twist with worry.

 

Yoongi listens for a few more seconds, gaining their third companion’s attention too, and he looks like he isn’t really enjoying what he’s hearing, which is, by the looks of it, silence.

 

“Shit,” The older removes the phone from his ear to look at the screen, showing that the call has ended.

 

“What?” Hoseok asks. Yoongi looks up at him.

 

He presses on the green button and pulls the phone up to his ear again, leaving Hoseok’s single-worded question unanswered. Hoseok and Chaeyoung share a look for some brief seconds while Yoongi waits, waits, waits, until a frustrated frown takes over his face. “He’s not answering.”

 

“Butt-dial?” Hoseok suggests, but the other shakes his head.

 

“He called my name,” Yoongi says, staring down at the darkening phone for a few more seconds. He looks up at Hoseok, and the younger knows that he heard more than just silence. “He was talking to someone.”

 

“Someone?”

 

“Guys, they’re gonna go in.” Chaeyoung taps Hoseok on the shoulder, and they both turn their attention to the screens again. “I have access to the doors.” She turns her eyes to the laptop on her lap, before looking up at the rest again.

 

She’s looking smart, Chaeyoung. A pair of spectacles are too low on her nose with her bleached hair short on her shoulders, she has a purple hair clip keeping it out of her face as she taps away on her laptop. Hoseok teased her about wearing too many layers when they first arrived, and the rascal just had to have the last word, speaking too much and talking back to often. 

 

While something like this should’ve made Hoseok fume, he still teases her more with a little grin on his face when he realized that Chaeyoung and Jina would get along well, having a runny mouth and unbelievable stubbornness.

 

Chaeyoung is filling in for the job Jeongguk usually attends to as he has another role for the day, but there is nothing to worry about in terms of efficiency since the pair are carbon copies of each other.

 

At least he has one less person to worry about since Jihyo clearly threatened to rain hellfire on Yoongi and Hoseok if one of her girls goes back to her with as much as a scratch since Chaeyoung will be staying in the van the whole night.

 

But they had to have more backup. It was a bit risky, having to ask for more reinforcement only a few hours before moving, but Jihyo was kind enough to allow them help as long as there are bills on the table.

 

Jeongsu had told them that everything is arranged already. That they just need to go in, get the drugs, and come out, but after hearing the news that Taehyung very anxiously delivered in the wee hours of dawn, they weren’t very sure about Jeongsu’s statement anymore. They needed to have all hands on deck, no trust whatsoever into whoever they are about to deal with.

 

So, Chaeyoung stays with Yoongi and Hoseok, Momo goes in, and the rest remain outside, hidden between the folds of the darkness of the night until called upon.

 

“Give a sign when you’re inside,” Yoongi speaks, his hand naturally going to the little earpiece in his ear out of habit. And on one of the screens, Jeongguk subtly looks into the camera, giving his silent okay.

 

They stop before a metal door, and the person leading them scans his hand on the screen beside it before it flashes green, granting them access. It opens, and the room seems to be dark from outside, shadows pouring out of it. The man enters first, followed by Seokjin, Taehyung, and Jeongguk respectively, and Hongjoong turns his back to the open door, guarding from outside.

 

It’s still dark inside. Jeongguk gives a little cough in com, signaling their entry. Everyone is on standby, waiting for the confirmation to allow themselves to breathe.

But it doesn’t come just yet. The room remains dark for a few more seconds. Hoseok sees Hongjoong turn to check out the silence that seemed to have swallowed the three, before the light finally beams on.

 

“What the fuck…” Jeongguk lets out.

 

A series of rattling guns echo in their earpieces, and Hoseok’s heart sinks. Hongjoong suddenly draws his gun too, hurries inside, and disappears out of view.

 

“What the hell is going on?” Hoseok leans towards the screen as if this would give him a better view.

 

“Now, isn’t this just unfortunate?” Seokjin speaks, voice dripping with clear venom. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

 

“Stalling?” an unfamiliar voice speaks, mocking. “Wouldn’t hurt to shoot a bullet or two. You’re clearly outnumbered.”

 

“Can somebody fucking explain what’s going on?!” Yoongi booms.

 

“It’s empty,” Taehyung grumbles out.

 

Hoseok knew this would happen.

 

“What?” Chaeyoung yelps out.

Every screen in front of them suddenly goes out, and a big, red warning sign flashes rapidly on her laptop. She taps furiously and hurriedly on the keyboard, and Hoseok waits, waits for anything else, any sound to allow him to get out of the van they’re hidden in.

 

It is unfortunate, though, that the sound just happened to be a gunshot.

 

Notes:

so…yeah i’ll try to update asap lmao
cant let you guys have peace for too long can i
does anyone have any suspicion about who could be doing all of this and why?? i’d love to hear your thoughts!!
also tell me what do you think of this chapter!! your feedback always makes my day<3
thank you so much for reading!! i’ll see you soon<3

Chapter 16: sedici

Summary:

“It was an ambush,” The man says, followed by the sound of a chair being forced away.

“What?!”

“They’re trapped in there.”

Notes:

looks around
i hope yall are still there lmao
HELLO YES THIS CHAPTER IS DIVIDED INTO TWO PARTS! one for Jina and one for Hoseok ehehe
this is a double update as well, i’ll probably update part 2 by tonight so you wont have to wait much!!

TRIGGER WARNING!!

there is a rape attempt in this chapter, so if you wanna skip that part you can go ahead<3

these two parts are full of action and angst, but get ready for some teeth-rotting fluff(and mayhaps something else wink wink) in the next chapter or two. i’m a woman of balance😏

uni is up my ass and i’m very very very VERY burnt out, but i started picking up books again! i just finished The Invisible Life Of Addie LaRue and i can’t describe how much that book amazed and inspired me. I’m starting The Love Hypothesis now, so lets hope my brain is fueled enough to keep me going!!

Don’t forget to give le your feedback! your sweet little words always push my burnt out brain to continue with my passion<3

now, i wish you all the best of luck getting through those two parts, and on top of that as always i hope you enjoy reading!!

I LOVE YOU GUYS!! See you in the next part!<3

The music is still pouring out of the damn place.

 

Even outside, looking up at the building that seems to be way too expensive in comparison with the rest of the bars and restaurants filling Itaewon, Jina’s heart beats along with the bass. She remembers complaining about it with Chungha last time, but all worries were swallowed down with the liquor two shots later. 

 

The bright pink neon of the sign paints her skin as she stands back and just perceives the exterior. This is her last resort. If Hoseok isn’t in there-- hell, if any of them aren’t in there, she’s in trouble. He isn’t home, nor at work, and those are just about the places Jina knows that have his traces.

 

Not even Chungha is picking up, for fuck’s sake, and it only hit Jina that something must be going on when her anger subsides, but she’s already here. Maybe they’re here too, like last time, so might as well just go with it.

 

Jina pushes the tinted glass door open, and the music gets louder. There’s a hallway, similar to the one that leads to the… room she accidentally stumbled upon, pinkish light leading the way to another door, one that has a security guard standing tall before it, dressed in all black with an iPad in hand, and an earpiece in one of his ears.

 

With Chungha, the guard had wordlessly let them pass with a little bow in Chungha’s way, but it isn’t the case this time around. Now, the guard raises a hand to stop her from reaching for the door, a grim expression looking down at her.

 

The guard brings up his iPad and asks. “What’s your name?”

 

“What do you need my name for?” Jina squints her eyes a little, tilting her head up to look at him.

 

“Don’t you have a reservation?”

 

“No,” Jina makes a move to push past him one more time. “I’m just looking for someone and I’ll be on my way.”

 

He stops her, grabbing her by the elbow to push her away, and Jina stumbles a few steps involuntarily.

 

What is it with the guards of this damn place?

 

“I’m gonna have to ask you to leave.”

 

Jina stands still for a few seconds, contemplating whether or not what she’s about to do would do her any good, but it doesn’t matter. The broken phone is heavy in her pocket, its weight overwhelming since the moment she thought of the possibility of it being tracked somehow on her way here, because if it’s tracked, Jina doesn’t think there’s any time to be wasted, and if it’s not, she just needs whatever’s inside as soon as fucking possible.

 

So, Jina digs in her pocket and grasps her Id, purposeful steps carrying her back to her spot in front of the guard while she raises her hand to shove it in his face.

 

“Jung Hoseok, is he inside?”

 

It takes the guard a couple of seconds, but he eventually snaps out of his trance and his eyes widen. “Park Jina-ssi,” He mumbles, looking back and forth between the woman in the police uniform in the picture and the woman in front of him. He steps away, bowing down dramatically, and Jina frowns at his reaction. “Detective Park, forgive my ignorance. I didn’t know it was you.”

 

Jina lowers her id, a wrinkle forming between her eyebrows.

 

“You may enter, but haven’t been informed of the president’s presence.” The guard clears Jina’s way, and the woman is still confused. He steps aside, putting his hands together at his abdomen. “My sincerest apologiez.”

 

“It’s… It’s fine,” Jina puts her Id back in her pocket and makes a move to open the door, but the guard is faster to grasp the handle and push it open instead.

 

And the music, along with the screams and shouts of drunken voices flowing in the air all around hit her on full blast, she has to tilt her head slighting to the side for a few seconds before pushing herself to move.

 

There are a few steps before she reaches the tiled, busy floor, and through the crowd, Jina navigates past the VIP area, and to the direction of their little dungeon hideout, which she managed to remember from that night. The beat starts to rock her body less and less the deeper she dives into the hallway before she is met with the flight of stairs.

 

And just like the guard she didn’t recognize at the door, she was hoping that this guard would be different too, but a somewhat familiar face suddenly turns to her when she starts to descend the flight of stairs she meets. His face turns grim at the sight of her, and Jina remembers the way Hoseok scolded him in front of her the last time they encountered each other. 

 

Feeling a little victorious, Jina cooly takes the last step and turns to the guard.

 

“How’s the head?”

 

He clenches his jaw. “It’s all healed up, thank you.”

 

Jina smiles but keeps her chuckle to herself as she looks at the closed elevator, unlike the way it was before. There’s a keypad beside it, lit up with red LEDs that Jina guesses say that it’s locked. She must’ve missed it before, it’s her first time spotting it.

 

“Are you gonna let me pass peacefully this time?” Jina turns back to the guard and purses her lips together.

 

“No one’s in, Ma’am.” He says formally. Jina can see how hard he’s trying not to look like he wants to smash her head in a wall, and she appreciates it, really. 

 

“You see, I don’t have any time to mess around,” Jina takes a step closer, her face, too, turning grim. “So if somebody’s here, you better let me in or I’ll do it myself just like I did last time.”

 

He stays quiet for a few seconds, looking away, and Jina worries for the teeth he’s biting down on so hard. “No one came in today. The only one present would be Kang Seulgi-ssi, but she’s on the higher floor. You can find her in her office.”

 

“There’s a higher floor?” Jina bluntly inquires. The ring of the name sounds familiar, but she is yet to put a face to it, and she doesn’t show that whatsoever.

 

“The stairs are to your left, just outside the hallway.” The guard informs, and Jina looks in the direction he mentioned. 

 

“Alright,” Jina pats his shoulder firmly a couple of times, already on her way to ascend the flight of stairs she just took again. “Thanks, big guy.”

 

The guard muffles what is probably an insult as a reply, but Jina is too determined to find whoever Kang Seulgi is to pay any mind to it. She takes two stairs a step, and true to his words, Jina finds another tinted glass door to push open before she finds the promised flight of stairs.

 

There’s another guard by yet another fucking door, but this one doesn’t stop her when she pushes it open. 

 

When it falls closed behind her, the loud music is reduced to a quiet lull, subtle thumping of the ground beneath her feet, but it seems that the same track is played here too although the volume and bass are much, much lower.

 

The red, pink, blue, and purple lights are replaced with warm, yellow, dim lights, keeping the theme golden and expensive. The layout of the area is pretty much the same, but instead of a dance floor, there is what seems to be a waiting area, and Jina can guess right away what kinda place she just stepped into by the sight of half-nude men and women entertaining each other out in the open.

 

Jina watches as a woman, dressed down in what seems to be only a robe, leads a disheveled, breathless guy that might be in his mid-thirties to one of the rooms lined up to circle around the area perfectly. 

 

A fucking brothel.

 

Jina’s stomach twists at the surprise of a sudden buzz coming from her phone, but she presses a button to ignore it through the back pocket of her jeans. She takes a hesitant step forwards, involuntarily distracted by her newest discovery, as if a grey cloud has overtaken the space of her brain.

 

She should call this in, shouldn’t she?

 

The grey cloud is shaken out of her head when someone slams into her from behind, throwing both of them a few feet apart. It takes her a couple of seconds to steady herself on her feet, and she can already feel a few pairs of eyes on her as she turns to scold whoever just ran into her, but the man is already rushing up yet another flight of stairs to her left, leading to what seems to be a glass office overlooking the whole space.

 

That should be her office.

 

Jina climbs up the stairs behind the man, and it is to her luck that he had left the door ajar because the voices easily pour out of it and right into her awaiting ears. Jina stops at the hurried, panicked tone, and decides to keep her appearance hidden for now.

 

“It was an ambush,” The man says, followed by the sound of a chair being forced away.

 

“What?!”

 

“They’re trapped in there.”

 

“Hoseok,” Jina recognizes the voice now, finally putting the face of Hoseok’s PA to the familiar name. “Did he go in?”

 

“I-I don’t know, it happened just now.” The man stutters, out of breath. “I don’t think he’d sit around and watch.”

 

“Fuck!” Seulgi yells out, and Jina feels her body go cold. 

 

Footsteps get louder by the moment, and Jina progresses almost too late that she needs to move. She almost misses a step, feeling her phone start to buzz again as she turns around and leaps down the stairs, pulling the hood of her jacket on top of her head and halfway down her face. 

 

She was right, something did happen.

 

Seulgi’s steps halt, and Jina hears the woman call out for her to stop as she opens the door and heads back downstairs, and by the sound of it, Seulgi’s acquaintance is running after Jina, but Jina easily blends with the crowd before he can even spot her.

 

She pushes her way to the exit, head-turning frequently to see just how much the man is on her tail. She pulls the door open and accidentally bumps into the guard she met earlier before she throws a quick apology as she makes a run for the final door.

 

The wild breeze outside knocks her hood off of her head and hits her face mercilessly. She almost stumbles back again, but she looks around briefly and pushes her feet to move away from the building that seems to only cause her trouble.

 

She is hurrying back to her car in wide steps when her phone buzzes one last time. Jina finally grabs it, briefly looking at the caller Id, then she pushes it to her ear. “It better be important, Jeong Yunho.”

 

“Noona,” He’s heaving, and Jina should’ve known when her stomach twisted the first time he called. “The drugs you found, someone’s trying to break them out.”

 

Jina slows down until she comes to a halt, and damn her mind for connecting the dots all too quickly because it feels like the world is silenced for a few seconds, only brought back to life by Yunho’s voice to her ear. 

 

“A team from narcotics just moved right now, something isn’t right.” Yunho continues, and Jina runs a hand through her hair, turning her head up to the sky. “Me and Jongho are on the way to the warehouse. We—”

 

“No, no,” Jina cuts him off, her panic absentmindedly making an appearance. The world is suddenly too loud, and her hammering heartbeat is even louder. “Stay away. I’m nearby, I’ll go check it out.”

 

“Noona—”

 

“Stay put, Yunho. I’m hanging up.”

 

Jina’s been expecting this, but the distractions she faced are unmerciful, and she fell right into the arms of its traps. She stays where she is, passersby giving her a look of worry, confusion, and even of wariness, but she doesn’t care. She wants to scream her frustration away right then and there, but as always, the detective keeps quiet. 

 

Her chest heaves and she looks around. Lost. Helpless. Disappointed.

 

But now that there’s a new card on the table, Jina is pushed to have a motive she shouldn’t have, one she swore against some years ago. 

 

But she’s already broken it, hasn’t she? The moment her eyes started to soften when she looked at him , when her stomach started filling with even the smallest of butterflies at the faintest of touches.

 

She doesn’t know which direction of the fork should she leap into just yet, but she starts moving again. She looks around for a shortcut, too frustrated at the long run to her car before she finds a darker alleyway she chased someone through in the early years of her work. 

 

It’s dark and shady, but it’s not something she can’t handle. Jina pulls the hood further down her face and takes a sharp left to the small alley, diverting away from the noisy, lively streets and into the folds of the night, only lit up by a single streetlamp every few yards.

 

It’s pretty much empty, except for the occasional passerby that reeks of alcohol amongst other things, but Jina soon starts to pick up the sound of trailing footsteps the quieter it gets around her, and she is reminded of the heaviness of the phone in her pocket once more. 

 

She counts one, two… too many footsteps, and if they’re anything like Changmin, the gods better be working in her favor.

 

She has her gun, but using it is too risky as she is held accountable for every bullet inside. That leaves her with a tactical stick that’s stuck in the inner pocket of her jacket and her fists to get rid of god knows how many people tailing her with purpose so loud that she can hear it in their footsteps. 

 

Once she’s put in unavoidable danger, then, Jina can use her gun.

 

She puts her hand on the stick at her ribs, picking up her pace, and is not surprised when they, too, make a run for it. 

 

Thunder rumbles and Jina runs. Like rolling down a hill, the lowering ground gives her more speed, but the people running after her are also speeding up. She pushes her feet harder, gets further away, but the sight of a silhouette of a man rushing in her direction from the front makes her steps falter. She gets slower. Not slow enough for them to catch up, but to be at an arm's reach distance.

 

The man at the front gets closer, and she isn’t given much time to think about what she should do, so she just picks up her speed again and wraps her fist around the handle of her stick, letting it unfold in the air.

 

When the first drop of rain hits her face, Jina leaps on a nearby bench and pushes the wall with one of her feet to gain more momentum to launch at the man at the front, with her stick held out at full length in the air.

 

With a swing of metal across his face, the man falls to the ground and Jina gains herself a chance to turn around and face the others. She ducks a fist to slam one of her own to his ribs, grab a flailing arm and push his heavy weight on one of his companions with another punch to the same spot to send them tumbling to the side. 

 

She turns to the remaining one, seeing the one that came from the front dizzily rising to his feet from the corner of her eye. The other swings at her with something shiny and sharp, and Jina barely misses it when she leans away from it. She grabs the arm he swung at her with and locks it with one of her own, pushes upwards until he yells out in pain, but the yell is cut short with a loud grunt when Jina pulls him closer and slams a knee to his groin.

 

Someone grabs her by the hair, yanking her away and onto the ground. She rolls and springs up to her feet quickly,  stick still held tightly under her reddening knuckles as she heaves, only spotting three men on their feet while her latest victim rolls and squirms on the ground. The least-injured one steps out first, a pocket knife in hand, and a curled fist in the other.

 

He swings once, and Jina steps back. Twice, Jina steps back, but her back meets a wall. At this point, she’s soaked from her head to toe, and everything is way more slippery than it should be. The man swings faster this time, catching her cornered, and Jina notices that no one is trying to hit her somewhere vital. 

 

He’s aiming for her shoulder, so Jina easily ducks away and slams a foot to his stomach, successfully putting enough distance between them for her to move freely when he involuntarily stumbles back. 

 

Her stick lands across his chest once, and Jina quickly bows down to land the other hit on the side of his knee, and on her way back up, with her left hand, she delivers a harsh uppercut where his liver lies. Then she waits.

 

It takes a few seconds of physical shock, but the man’s body soon hits the ground, too still to be conscious. 

 

Around three more seconds pass by in complete silence, the other three staring back and forth between Jina and their fallen friend before they move too quickly for Jina to react and corner her to the wall again.

 

One grabs a hand, another grabs the other, and lightning strikes, allowing Jina to make out some features. Her stick falls to the ground at the force of her arms pinned to the wall beside her head, but her legs are still free. She tries to kick the pair of them away, but she feels sharp pain flash across her face, and Jina’s face is thrown to the side from the force of the punch when thunder rumbles again.

 

Something sharp is pressed to her abdomen, and Jina freezes. 

 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” The third chuckles, voice still laced with pain. Jina tries to keep her face to the side, but her protest is rendered useless when he forces her to face him, fingers tight around her jaw. “You’re a tough one, huh?” 

 

She tries to shake them off again, but their grips tighten, and Jina feels like she can’t breathe. 

 

“Jung Hoseok really knows how to pick his whores,” The man in front of her says, and the others snicker at his remark.

 

The name makes her stomach drop, but it never lands. It manages to push her anxiety off of a hill, the softest of pushes to an already tilting world. 

 

Jung Hoseok this, Jung Hoseok that… Jung Hoseok seems to only bring her trouble. 

 

“I’m nobody’s whore,” Jina sneers through gritted teeth.

 

“C’mon, baby. How much for an hour?” He mumbles, way too close for comfort. “Even though… I don’t think you’ll live enough to spend any money. You see, we were planning to just have some fun with you, yeah? But then…” He steps back, gesturing to himself, his two companions, and their unconscious friend. “You did that.”

 

When he looks back at her, Jina spits, the fluids soon getting lost between the rapid raindrops falling on his face, but it has already delivered its purpose of pissing him off. He keeps his eyes closed for a couple of seconds then wipes his face with his sleeve, and steps closer.

 

“Why don’t we take her back to the other boys too, guys?” He smiles at his friends, pressing his knife closer to her skin, and his other hand lets go of her jaw to unzip her inner hoodie. She tries to flail away, but the sharp tip almost pierces through her, and she falls frozen again. “Dying doesn’t seem to be enough.”

 

“Get off of me.”

 

“Why?” The man says, and she feels the tip of the knife move away, only to realize seconds later that it’s slicing the middle of her sweater, violently so, from down to up. He speaks through gritted teeth when he opens his mouth again. 

 

 “Isn’t this what you do for a living in that damned place?” He says, and Jina looks away, breath too short and mind too panicked to think of anything but the filthy hands on her. “Don’t lie. I’ve seen you before. He carried you out like a doll out of there. You looked so out of it, it was so cute.”

 

Her sweater falls open, but she’s a woman of many layers in more aspects than one, and she’s thankful for her undershirt for keeping her from exposure. He runs the knife up her throat and to her chin, tilting her head backward, and she can see the hunger in their eyes as they stare at her. 

 

He runs a hand up her waist below the undershirt, his knife trailing back down to her neck, her chest,  and it soon finds the hem of her last hope of coverage. Jina squirms, arms of no use with little to no space for her legs to give her any strength, and the knife manages to split her skin open in a small, surface cut, and the man doesn’t stop.

 

His hand gets higher and higher with filthy purpose, exposing half of her stomach already, while he splits the top of her undershirt open. 

 

But that was it. That’s where Jina finally snaps, finally gets a way out.

 

One wrong move and the knife would pierce her heart, but Jina still pulls her knee up, meeting his groin with a yell. Her foot goes down forcefully to the toes of the man on her right while the other stumbles away, and he loosens his grip in pain enough for her to shake his hand off and elbow him right in the face.

 

The one to the left attempts to deliver a hit to the side of her ribs, where the bruises from her last attack are fading. Although, Jina’s stomp to his toes weakens his blow to only a little push that hurts nevertheless, but not enough to make her falter. 

 

She turns towards him with a fist to his throat before she’s yanked away by her hair again, except that it’s short-lived and too weak to make her fall, then the man is suddenly falling to the side. Jina stumbles back, noticing a new addition, and raises her fists up to brace herself. 

 

She can’t make out many features, the lights too dim and scary while the rain pours, but the new person grabs her fists and slowly pushes them down, stepping closer for a clearer view.

 

And she’s never been so relieved to see the familiar pair of dragon eyes staring down at her, with a look that isn’t hatred and disappointment lingering within them. 

 

“Namjoon?” Jina heaves, tears of relief clouding her vision all too quickly.

 

He doesn’t reply, doesn’t ask if she’s okay because her appearance, even in this lighting, says it all. He just nods, pulls her closer, an eye out for the still squirming men around them. “You should go.”

 

“No!” Jina yells out, trying to pull her fists out of his bigger hands. “No! They... They wanted to…” She hiccups, shaking her head hysterically. “I can… I can take them on my own. Let me! Let me—“

 

“I know!” He shouts over her voice. He pulls her closer, glues her fisted hands to his chest and shakes her enough to have her attention on him instead of the struggling men around them. “I know you can take them on your own. I can take it from here, yeah?” He nods, reassuring, although his eyes are wide and wild. “You need to be somewhere else, Jina.”

 

Jina is puzzled for a few seconds, staring at him like he’d grown another head before blood started rushing back to her head. 

 

She looks around her again, spotting one of them moving in their direction on his knees to keep himself low, but Jina meets his face with her heel, sending him backward with the sound of what seems to be a bone breaking. 

 

The one behind her rises to his feet, the one that split her clothes open, but Namjoon is fast to push her away and handle him himself. The one remaining tries to grab a hold of her from the back, but Jina’s small size is always an advantage in situations like this. She easily slips away, switching their places to jump on his back and wrap her arms around his head in a headlock.

 

It gives her deja vu.

 

He stumbles back until Jina’s back harshly meets the wall, and he keeps repeating the process in an attempt to pull her off, but his lack of air supply makes his movements weak and sloppy, thankfully not hurting Jina as much as he thought he was hurting her. She tightens her arms, and he stops slamming her back in the wall before going limp in her arms only seconds later. 

 

She kicks him forward, letting him fall face first next to his friends, the fourth joining them on the ground as soon as Namjoon is done with him.

 

Jina leans back against the wall, hand in her hair while she leans the other on her knee for support. The unshed tears long forgotten, the mission in mind acting as the sole distraction from the events that just took place until god knows when. 

 

Her body still trembles, she still feels like she wants to scrub where the man touched until her skin glows red, but her mind is set on one thing and one thing only.

 

Although the sight of Namjoon with eyes so full of concern as he walks towards her again makes it tricky for her mind to stay focused, she tries her hardest not to let go.

 

And it's hard. It’s hard, and it’s been the longest fucking day in a while, and the girl just wants to be held so tightly that her shattered pieces are forced back together, but it seems like fate always has second plans for her, ones that are always stubborn and violent, always leaving her with a broken wing.

 

Although now, Jina feels like her remaining wing, too, is starting to crack. 

 

Namjoon bends down, grabs her abandoned stick, and closes the distance between them. She looks up at him, chest still heaving with difficulty and untwistable knots, and pushes her hair out of her face. 

 

“You did well,” Namjoon tells her, and the way Jina flinches when he reaches to zip up her hoodie breaks what is remaining of his heart. She lets him zip it up, return her tactical stick to its original size to put back in its place, then he pats the old phone in the other pocket for both of their reassurance. “I’m sorry I was late.”

 

“What are you doing here?” Jina asks. “How d—How did you know where I was?”

 

“I followed you,” Namjoon tells her truthfully, and Jina is a bit offended before he gets to explain himself. “Just in case the phone was tracked, in case someone tried something funny. I’ve been following you since you and Dr. Yoon parted ways.” He pulls her hood on her head, finally, after way too many days of leaving her clumsiness unattended. 

 

Then, Namjoon speaks again, and Jina has trouble believing what she hears. “Are you sure you can go? I can go instead.” 

 

Jina stays quiet, rendered speechless by too many things at once. The questions seem to display themselves on her face because Namjoon answers before she gets to open her mouth.

 

“Jongho called,” He explains, but Jina remains confused. “It’s obvious who’s trying to do that.”

 

“Why are you okay with me going there?” Jina stands up straight, leaning away from the wall. “Do you even know which side I’m taking?”

 

Because I don’t even know. She wants to tell him, but she bites her tongue. 

 

“Yes,” Namjoon answers, and Jina is left dumbfounded. “We have a common enemy, now that someone from the inside is trying to hide evidence. That’s the only way things should go.”

 

But that’s not the only reason why Jina was doubting her choices.

 

“I’ll take care of this mess,” Namjoon gives a brief look around them before his eyes fall back on her, and she can tell there is something he wants to say. “I won’t call them in, no one can be trusted.”

 

“What are you going to--”

 

“I’ll take care of it, don’t worry.” Namjoon gives her a reassuring nod.

 

There are still so many questions unanswered but Jina really doesn’t have much time to waste. She hopes she even makes it on time if she moves right now with the downpour hailing. 

 

Jina nods back, stumbling away as she attempts to hide her trembling fists in her pockets just until she is out of sight, but Namjoon holds her back before she gets further.

 

“I can go,” Namjoon tells her, and Jina doesn’t understand how genuine he sounds. It wasn’t so long that he screamed at her for siding with them , the night is painfully tattooed in her memory with the darkest ink. “You don’t look too well.”

 

And it’s true, Namjoon can go, he knows the escape route as well as she does, but there are so many things that can go wrong if he goes and she stays back.

 

I don’t trust you enough to get him out of there. Jina finds herself thinking, oblivious of Namjoon’s own motive for wanting to get them out of the warehouse by all means necessary. 

 

Because at the end of the day, the pair remain as similar as they can possibly get even through disappointment and betrayal.

 

“I’m fine, just take care of those.” Jina decides to say at the end. She yanks herself free from his grasp and starts moving, eyes avoiding the four bodies scattered on the floor. “But we need to talk when I get back.”

 

Namjoon keeps his eyes on her back as she starts to speed up, eventually breaking into a sprint before she disappears from his sight, and he hopes there’s enough light to guide her out of the dim alley. 

Notes:

If i hadn’t uploaded part two by the time you’re reading this, check tomorrow and you’ll find it ehe.

Do you think Jina is gonna get there on time? and if she does, after what happened this chapter, do you think she’ll manage to offer them any help?

and most importantly, how do you think Hoseok would react to seeing here there?

one last question… do any of you have any idea who’s doing all of this by now?

Tell me what do you think in the comments!! i’ll be waiting<3

See you tonight!!

Chapter 17: diciassette

Summary:

“A couple of vans pulled up, a dozen heads, maybe more. They’re approaching the warehouse, should I have the pleasure?”

“No.” Yoongi and Hoseok grumble simultaneously.

Notes:

IM HERE HUHU

looks like next chapter will be uploaded sooner than i though at fucking last lmao
BUT YEAH HERE IS PART TWO!! i totally wasnt pressured by my friends that are reading this fic to upload it asap or anything no
totally didnt get thrown with a slipper either as well

now onto the second part!!

Hoseok only ran away from danger once in his life. 

 

He was young, clutching to his mother’s dress, and could only do as she asked no matter how much he disagreed. So he ran, ran, ran past the tree line, head wiping to the side to catch a glimpse of a floral dress and wind-swept hair, but it all stopped too quickly.

 

Suddenly, he is no longer running. Suddenly, a quick, swift sound pierces through the air, and his mom is no longer running. Suddenly, her hair falls down her shoulders, and something dark starts to spread across her abdomen. 

 

Hoseok couldn’t move. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t blink, frozen like the forest trapped his feet to its soil. She tries to move again, he sees that. She moves towards him, an arm stretched out, and she manages to get a few good steps before something rocks her again, and mom’s body goes stiffer.

 

She’s reaching for little Hoseok, but not for the reason he wants. 

 

“Go,” She says, but the sound doesn’t reach his ears. 

 

His ears ring, too loud, too overwhelming.

 

She falls to her knees, and he wants to go to her, wants to pull her away, but she looks like she’s screaming now, begging him to go. To get to his father, to save himself. 

 

Now, Hoseok wishes he’d gone back to her. He wishes he’d held her one last time, to take his last breaths with her.  But back then, there was a chance to save her, right? surely she wouldn’t go out so easily. If he just runs fast as she told him, get to his father and tell them where they were, he would come to save her.

 

But life has never been this easy, has it?

 

So Hoseok steps backward, teary eyes planted on the warm eyes that start to smile with profound pride, and maybe the slightest threads of hope as he gets further away. 

 

“잘했어, 내새끼.” She whispers at last, laying on her back as she stares at the night sky. The littlest of smiles remain on her lips while a single tear escapes past her heavy waterline.

 

Her heart mourns for the pain her baby will have to go through, oblivious of just how dreadful things will get, although the smile can’t be swept off of her face.

 

Because her boy is so, so strong. It is unfair, for a child, but the pride overtaking her fading soul is priceless. 

 

People are rushing towards her now, black boots and big guns, but Hoseok has always been fast. He was already swallowed by the trees and the night, leaving no trace behind.

 

She keeps her head towards the treeline, and a chuckle escapes past her lips, quickly morphing in a wet cough that has crimson splashing on the green she lays on, because she knows that once Hoseok is home, it’s gonna rain hellfire.

 

Although she didn’t know just how literate that would be.

Hoseok never ran away again. He welcomes the fight with open arms, like an old friend. He bares his teeth at death just because he never wants his mother’s lost life to be wasted for nothing.

 

It can get hard, keeping himself alive, and he loses his purpose sometimes, especially when the one trying to take his life away is him most of the time, but he is still here.

 

Wounded and tired, but he’s here.

 

On their resisted entry to the warehouse, Hoseok and Yoongi got separated. The group waiting for them wasn’t little yet not too much to handle on their own, but they were pulled into two different directions. Hoseok thinks it’s on purpose because having to deal with one is better than two, but he eventually happened to knock the bunch out with heaving breaths and throbbing knuckles.

 

No murders, not on governmental grounds. They gotta keep it clean.

 

The lights had gone out the moment the two men entered the scarily enormous warehouse, with only one lamp dangling between each row, casting a dim, creepy illumination of light over the large space. It’s like a maze, really, full of rows and columns of all kinds of drugs existing, sealed tight and stored safely in boxes. 

 

But not his. Not his drugs. They were kept in a special place, a safe-like room with high-tech security underground because he was told that they would be kept safe this way, and maybe he shouldn’t have trusted a word coming from someone that betrayed their own oath when they first agreed to work for him.

 

“A couple of vans pulled up, a dozen heads, maybe more. They’re approaching the warehouse, should I have the pleasure?”

 

“No.” Yoongi and Hoseok grumble simultaneously, and a rush of relief echoes in Hoseok’s body at the voice in his ear, announcing his survival. 

 

Hoseok is trying to navigate through the dark maze to reach the barred door that leads to the stairway leading down, which, he’s sure, is locked, when he hears shuffling coming from the direction of the entrance, true to Dahye’s report.

 

There is a single voice, and many, many footsteps spreading through the area like viruses through blood upon the voice’s orders.

 

He had acquired a metal pole that one of the men he’d taken down had, along with a knuckleduster that another one had, and decided to keep his gun away for now. 

 

Upon the sound of spreading footsteps, Hoseok spots one of his latest victims and grabs a face mask that keeps his features in the dark, thankful for his choice of clothes as he looks almost identical to the minions with the bounty on his head.

 

And they are definitely not government officials. Hoseok realizes that with a sinking heart, eyes miraculously spotting a dark shade at the junction between the man’s jaw and neck, which he soon discovers to be the same tattoo Jina told him Changmin has.

 

Three dots, formed in a perfect triangular shape.

 

Fire ignites, and he has trouble clearing out the smoke that spreads in his brain. They should’ve canceled this, should’ve turned the tables once Taehyung warned them, although Hoseok doesn’t know what kind of outcome they would have gotten out of being the predator in this scenario, and not the prey.

 

Which Hoseok despises with every fiber in his being.

 

He rises up from his squat, not resisting kicking the man for satisfaction, one he knew he would never feel with kicking a mere minion.

 

With a dark blazer and a grey button-down, while they wore dark suits, Hoseok blends in perfectly and only hopes that his best friend is doing the same. He tries to look for him for a couple of minutes, but the quietness in the comm only says that he’s doing just fine. Chaeyoung chimes in every now and then, panicked breaths mixed with updates from her side, and so far, she cannot regain her access.

 

Seokjin, Jungkook, Taehyung, and Hongjoong have gone radio-silent some time ago, their connection has been cut off on purpose. Momo and Mingi are still trying to break through the mechanically locked door on the lower level, while Wooyoung and San are still on their not-so-merry way of figuring out the underground tunnels connecting the warehouses together. 

 

And so far, as it seems, no one knows that they have discovered them in the first place, so Hoseok signals for Jihyo’s girls (minus Chaeyoung) to start their raid on the other warehouses, leaving their respective places among the dark folds of the night.

 

He keeps his head down, the cap on his head shadowing his eyes from the hurried passerby as he tries to find the doors in such shitty lighting, although now, he mentally adds a little new mission of having to drag one of those bastards out with him alive, maybe two if he’s lucky.

 

He puts as much distance between him and the entrance, knowing that the door leading downwards is on the opposite side.

 

“Chaeyoung,” He calls, tone low. “The door on the upper level is locked, isn’t it?”

 

“It is, both of them are,” She replies right away, and Hoseok can hear the stress in her voice. “Just give me a few minutes. I almost got it.”

 

“San,” Hoseok calls, taking a sharp right when he sees someone at his front. He looks around, hurrying a bit as he fake-looks for himself so he wouldn’t look too suspicious. “San. Wooyoung? Does anyone copy?” He calls again when he gets no reply, worry and fury bubbling up in his system like boiling water, ready to flood and overtake him. “Somebody better answer before I set this damn place on fire.”

 

“No one has made it out of anywhere, Hyung-nim.” Yeosang finally makes an appearance, their single undercover mole within the grounds. Hoseok started worrying some time ago that he got caught since he’s been so quiet. “I believe they’re still in the tunnels. The signal must be weak.”

 

“I got it!” Chaeyoung suddenly yelps, and true to her words, Hoseok hears a subtle buzz coming from the door nearby. “It’s open. I’ll be working on the rest of them now.”

 

So, Hoseok looks around, on a look out for someone to drag with him with as little noise as possible. The unconscious are useless, he needs someone wide awake, so he keeps his eyes up instead of the ground.

 

He tries to stay near the door. Going between one row and another, he finally spots a possible prey. 

 

They are short and small, unlike the rest of the patrolling minions, who are either Hoseok’s height or taller, so it’d be easier to take control of them. They’re holding what seems to be a tactical stick, unfolded and tall, almost similar in height to the pole he keeps in his own hand. 

 

Hoseok shoves the pole in his belt, picking up a fallen dagger from the floor, and he starts to approach the… man (?) from behind with subtle, almost inaudible steps. 

 

The closer he gets, the more it seems like the man isn’t wearing what seems to be their uniform, supporting a leather bomber jacket and a pair of dark wash jeans instead, with a hood covering his head.

 

Hoseok hesitates, but he’s too close to back out of it now.

 

Before he could grab a hold of the leather jacket, an arm swung his way. Hoseok ducks reflexively, grabs the exposed arm and raises the dagger to his neck.

 

And now that he’s close enough, he realizes that this is no man.

 

A dark hood conceals every feature, but he sees neck-length hair hiding within. The person tries to yank their arm away, and they almost actually do, until Hoseok twists them around by their arm and pulls their back to his front, the dagger quick to find the same spot on their neck again. 

 

Yeah, this body isn't anywhere near masculine. 

 

The woman is soaked from head to toe, it makes him shiver when the droplets on the leather seep through the material of his shirt.

 

She tilts her head up, putting as much distance between her skin and the sharp edge of the dagger, leaning her head on his shoulder.

 

“Stay quiet and come with me,” Hoseok mumbles in a whisper, forcing them to walk backward. She tenses and relaxes too quickly for Hoseok to grasp what is going on. A trembling hand finds his jacket, dangerously close to his healing wound, and for a second there he has to support her body weight to actually move.

 

She tries to make a sound, to say something, but Hoseok is quick to place a gloved palm to her mouth, arms tightening around her. She keeps trying to lean back the more he draws the knife nearer to her skin while he forces her to move forwards, further into the shadows between one lamp and another. 

 

The woman squirms in his arms, making him involuntarily pull his hand away from her neck because damn it, he needs one of them alive and someone with a slit across their neck won’t make his situation any better. 

 

But he soon realizes that slitting her neck would’ve been the better solution because she bites the hand across her mouth, elbows him in the stomach only enough to hurt, thankfully on the side furthest from his wound, but he has no other choice but to stumble back and set her free.

 

She turns around and reaches out a hand immediately, but Hoseok doesn’t wait for her to strike before he pushes her back against one of the storage shelves, armed hand going for her throat again. 

 

“It’s me,” The woman heaves, and Hoseok’s stomach drops to his feet. “It’s me. It’s Jina.”

 

The name falls on him like a bucket of ice, and he freezes. He leans closer to take a better look, and she pushes her hood away from her face with a free hand, revealing all-too-familiar features that he has been longing to see for days now.

 

He realizes then just how familiar her body feels in his arms. The short hair, the small frame, the trembling hand.

 

But wait, her hand is trembling. Why is her hand trembling? Jina isn’t the type to get swayed by a threat so little, he knows this much.

 

Or is she?

 

He pushes her out of his arms like she was made of lava, eyes wide with the bad kind of surprise. The worried kind, but her hand is tight around the fabric of his blazer as she pulls him back, closer to her, with eyes almost as wide as his own. 

 

There is a cut on her cheekbone, and another on the corner of her mouth. His hand absentmindedly reaches for her face, tilting her head to the side so he takes a better look, and when a nearby lamp flickers, he sees a red mark, angry and inflamed.

 

Her eyes twitch at the touch when he tries to trace her skin there, and that’s what it takes for Hoseok’s worry to finally kick in, but she doesn’t pull away. If anything, Jina leans more into his touch, eyebrows furrowing ever so slightly.

 

“What happened?” He finally asks.“Who did this?”

 

“I’m fine, this isn’t important.” She replies, eyes as wide as his when she wraps a hand around his to pull it down, and Hoseok spots the bruised, bloody knuckles even in lighting like this. “We need to leave. Yoongi told me to get you out of here.”

 

“Wait, wait, what? Yoongi?” He lets out in a low whisper, eyebrows furrowing as he takes a look around, making sure they’re alone in this part of the warehouse. “You saw him?” Hoseok pushes, and Jina nods hurriedly, about to say something when he interrupts her again. His eyes narrow. “What are you even doing here?”

 

“There’s literally no time for chit-chat right now,” She pulls the hood back forwards, covering her face again. a freezing hand finds his, and suddenly, he is the one being dragged to the door. “I’ll explain everything once we’re out of here. Is the door unlocked?”

 

Hoseok stops walking, the skin between his eyebrows furrowing further at the rapid words coming out of her mouth. 

 

Jina looks back, hand still grasping his. “Hoseok, please,” She pleads, wary eyes looking left and right in a hurry. “We gotta go.”

 

She… She can’t be the one behind all of this, right?

 

No, no way. She wouldn’t do this to him. She wouldn’t.

 

“What do you mean you can’t find them?” A voice yells, angry, laced with venom. “They’re in here! Keep looking!”

 

“Hoseok,” Jina tugs at his arm. She grabs his forearm with her other hand, and her eyes never looked so desperate. “I can’t be seen here. Please. We need to go.”

 

And he lets her lead him instead. Her hand is tight around his, head wiping left and right to make sure no one was around when she pulls the barred door open just enough for them to pass. 

 

It falls closed just as silently as it opened, and Jina is already dragging Hoseok down the two flights of stairs it leads them to. Her steps are fast, taking two steps at once, and Hoseok finally matches her speed when he starts to gradually break out of his little trance.

 

There is no time for this. They just need to get out safely for now. 

 

Now, Hoseok leads, hand still in hers, and he holds it just as tightly. There is a mandatory sharp right at the end of the stairs that leads to a long hallway, and there awaits a couple of very anxious-looking people that just happen to be his people.

 

Jina tenses, stops walking, and tries to pull him behind her back before he gives her hand a squeeze of reassurance.

 

“It’s okay,” He tells her with a nod, but she still hesitates when she starts moving. 

 

Mingi and Momo are already on their way to them, and they, too, are hesitant when they look at the newcomer, not knowing whether she’s a friend or a foe.

 

Momo draws a dagger from her boots, and Mingi reaches back for his gun.

 

Hoseok puts a hand out, shaking his head as he pulls her behind him. “Stand back. She’s with me.”

 

The pair do as ordered, And the other pair start to approach them again. 

 

The large metal door separating them from the rest of the hallway still stands closed, but the two guards that were previously on guard here now lay on the ground, seeming to be in deep sleep that wasn't so nicely inflicted. 

 

“I got back the second door and the CCTVs.” Chaeyoung reports, voice sounding much more relaxed than it was minutes ago. “Be careful, six are armed and waiting outside the room’s door. I’m still trying to get past the firewall, it won’t take much… hopefully.”

 

“The door opens inwards,” Mingi states, moving closer to the door. “I guess that could be an advantage.”

 

“Is it unlocked?” Jina asks. The other three look at her, silent for a couple of seconds, and she shakes her head in question for them to respond.

 

It clicks a little too late that Jina doesn’t have an earpiece in like the rest of them do, rendering her clueless of the information being thrown at them left and right. 

 

“It’s unlocked.” Hoseok nods, pulling them near the wall furthest from the handle of the door. He looks at her and decides to give her a little briefing. “Seokjin, Jeongguk, and Taehyung and Hongjoong are trapped inside one of those damn rooms. It’s been around twenty minutes since they’ve gone radio-silent.” Hoseok points to the earpiece in his ear and goes on. “We have people raiding the other warehouses to find a safe passage out of the tunnels. Our access was interrupted once things went wrong but we’re taking it back, this door and the one upstairs, as well as the CCTVs.”

 

Jina looks up abruptly, eyes zooming from one corner to another until she spots the camera, and Hoseok sees the way her body stiffens.

 

“They will be erased once we’re out of here,” Hoseok reassures her with a nod, then continues with the briefing. “We know there are at least five of them in the room, and there are six waiting outside this door.” Hoseok points at the closed metal door. “We already have a clear passage beyond that until the parts we still don’t have access to until we get the green light to move freely.”

 

“But you need to stay away from the main warehouses,” Jina tells him. “Those will be the first places that the police raid when they arrive, I don't think we have that much time left.”

 

“Yeah, we really don’t,” Yeosang says in their ears. “I can hear the sirens.”

 

“We need to move,” Momo draws a gun from the back of her pants. She seems to still be wary of Jina because she looks her up and down with a sour look on her face, and Hoseok can’t really blame her. “If you’re gonna hold us back, go wait by the stairs until we’re done.”

 

Jina looks offended by Momo’s words because she tilts her head to the side with one eyebrow raised, but she quickly diverts her attention back to Hoseok instead. 

 

“Tell everyone to move to the very back,” She says, eyes confident and determined. “To the last warehouse. I know the way out.”

Notes:

YOU WONT HAVE TO WAIT LONG I PINKY PROMISE!! i hope you enjoyed this one!! i’ll see you guys in the next chapter<3

THANK YOU FOR READING!

Chapter 18: diciotto

Summary:

“I’ll… I’ll keep you safe. Just stick by me, I’ll get us out of here.”

“I…I’m supposed to do that.”

Notes:

saw some fellow authors recapping what happened in previous chapters to keep yall up to date so i’ll be doing this from now on!!

ALSO HI!! god this chapter was written under the oressure of my two best friends breathing doen my fucking neck to finidb it so they can read. 0/10 wouldn’t recommend.

but hey they liked it! (one of them hugged me and the other smacked me… idk what the fuck does that mean but i guess i’ll let yall decide that.)

also silly little me started working so alongside uni so! haha! fun experience! fucking hating it!

im guessing the next chapter will be uploaded on omertà’s first birthday (i literally just realized this now what the fuck) but!! god those of you who have been here from the start YALL FUCKING ROCK!!!

HERES THE SUMMARY OF THE PREVIOUS CHAPTER:

Jina goes to find hoseok to give him the Beak Jonwoo’s phone and bumps into Jimin but she doesn’t see him (im so sorry) and he stays for a while until Daeun sees him and its all sad and warm and fuzzy when they meet. Jina doesnt find Hoseok home, at work, or at the club, but she stumbles upon Seulgi and eavesdrops on a convo where she is told it was an ambush, jina runs, gets a call from jongho that a team of narcs are on the move to the governamental warehouses, and she is soon followed by a fee gangsters that attempted to…well touch her inappropriately AFTER she so badass-ly beats them up but lil old joonie comes fo save the day and *gasp* he tells her that she needs to go and get them out of there.

hoseok and yoongi get separated on their entry, hoseok doesnt know where yoongi is, and seokjin, taehyung, jungkook and hongjoong are still trapped. hoseok stumbles upon jina, she tells him that yoongi told her to get him out of there, but oh no she looks beaten up. they move down stairs and meet mingi and momo, and jina tells them that she knows the way out.

:) ehehe

your feedback is always appreciated!! thank you for reading this far.<3

NOW ONTO THE CHAPTER!!

They had cracked the door open, a pair standing on each of its sides. Soon enough one of the men on their side makes a move to push it open and go through, but ready hands grab him, disarming him swiftly before turning him around, and Mingi uses him as a human shield for the awaiting bullets that go off.

 

Jina isn’t wearing a bulletproof vest, they realize this all too late, when the first bullet pierces through the air, but Jina doesn’t abort her movements. She goes in as planned right after Mingi throws the man in his arms at his companions, taking down three others like bowling pins, and runs to her first target. 

 

He’s on the taller side, so it’s easier for her to duck his swings. She goes in with a kick to his stomach, seizing the opportunity of him bending down to knee him in the face with a sudden rush of adrenaline, then once again, before he is sent tumbling backward. 

 

Jina races to grab the gun that just fell out of his hand, but a tight grip is suddenly on her ankle and she is falling to the ground. 

 

Pain flashes throughout her whole body like a strike of lightning, but she has no time to react before she’s being pulled by her ankle. She kicks with her other leg, turning around on her back and hoping to hit somewhere critical before she hears a loud screech from the front, and the grip is no longer there. 

 

She looks up, and Hoseok is there with the heel of his shoes on the man’s wrist. He bends down to force the man to his feet while Jina uses the opportunity to acquire the fallen gun. The guy she first attacked is regaining his energy on the ground beside her, and Jina doesn’t hesitate to slam the butt of the gun to his head. 

 

Turning her head back to the front, Jina’s heart sinks.

 

She doesn’t think, then. Her hand moves, cocking the gun in her hand, and she shoots at the man sneaking up on Hoseok.

 

The hallway falls quiet for solid five seconds, stunned expressions and breathes held until everyone sees who was just shot. The man is blown backward, mouth falling open in a silent scream as he leans his back against a wall, a hand flying to where the bullet cracked his skin open.

 

At first, Jina thought he was groping at his heart. She thought that, after years spent of fear of the moment she finally gets her first kill, that was it, and her train of thoughts suddenly flatlines.

 

But the man screams, and blood seeps out of his shoulder.

 

Jina looks at Hoseok, breathless and shocked, only to find him staring right back at her, and he has been for the past few seconds, wide eyes scanning her whole body for any blood, heart heavy in his chest. 

 

The man he has cornered, though, seizes Hoseok’s moment of distraction and head head-butts him harshly, and lands an even harsher blow to his cheek, and Hoseok is involuntarily stumbling backward dizzily. 

 

Jina is on her feet by the time the man brings a hand to the back of his pants, and she is in front of him by the time he aims a gun at Hoseok. But so is Momo, and Jina is one for a challenge, but there is a mutual goal here.

 

Hoseok remains unscathed by all means possible.

 

The man pulls the trigger, but Momo is quick to kick the gun away, and instead of the bullet hitting Hoseok, it grazes Jina’s bicep and hits the wall beside his head. 

 

And it is safe to say that Hoseok’s heart stopped beating until Jina showed a reaction. 

 

Jina lets out a surprised shrike at the burn, bringing a hand up to cover the open skin, but it only manages to piss her off even more. Momo twists his previously armed arm behind his back in what seems to be a painful position by the look on his face, and Jina delivers a fury-loaded roundhouse kick to his damn face that sends him tumbling out of Momo’s hands and onto the floor.

 

By the time she stands back, heaving for air while holding Momo’s challenging gaze that now begins to fill with something else, something of impression, Hoseok is throwing the now unconscious body of the man she just shot next to his friends, and Jina gets a deja vu of a scene she wants to avoid for now as she looks at the fallen men.

 

Hoseok shakes his stinging knuckles, looking over at Mingi. He nods at him, stepping over a body to get closer, and Hoseok shifts his gaze to Momo, who keeps staring at their newest companion before he does so himself too.

 

He should’ve known that it was a bad idea to put those two within a 10-meter radius of each other.

 

Although he would’ve laughed at a scene like this in any other setting, Hoseok’s brain is fogged up to the brim with pure worry, and he doesn’t try to stop himself when he reaches out for Jina’s arm, pulling her closer to examine the cut she earned herself while she lets out short, repetitive sounds of protest.

 

“I’m fine,” She whines, but Hoseok pulls her closer by her face with the other hand. He spots a new little cut near her eyebrow.

 

Momo and Mingi watch in silence, stunned at the foreign scene that unfolds in front of them.

 

“Don’t start acting dumb, now,” He grumbles out rather grumpily. He shifts his gaze to meet her awaiting one, that quite frankly, makes him worry even more.

 

Park Jina still looks as fierce as ever, stubbornly confident, and her presence here worries Hoseok for all the wrong and right reasons, but Hoseok can’t help the many other emotions that rapidly push at his brain for attention the more he keeps his eyes on her.

 

She’s pale, and wet, and bloody, and Hoseok just really needs to get her out of here.

 

But it seems like her objective is to also get him out of there, and that can, and definitely will keep them stuck in a loop where they’re just fighting for the other to be safe. 

 

And that can be distracting. It already is.

 

“You’re not wearing a bulletproof vest. You stay behind until it’s safe to enter when the door opens—“

 

“I most definitely will not be doing that,” Jina tells him nonchalantly, eyebrows almost reaching her hairline in disbelief. “You’re the one that needs to stay back. I can get by just fine.”

 

He inspects the patch of broken skin that lays beyond three ruined layers of clothing one last time, noting to drag her ass to a hospital once they’re out of here.

 

If… If they get out of here. 

 

“I don’t like repeating myself. Pretty sure you know this well by now,” Hoseok says, and the detective yanks her arm out of his grasp, which earns her a little yell of pain at the motion. “Don’t be reckless, Jina. It’s like you have a fucking death wish.”

 

“Jina??”

 

 Multiple voices boom in his earpiece, and when Hoseok looks at Mingi and Momo, it looks like recognition finally has fallen on their previously stunned gazes.

 

“Did you just say Jina?” Chungha, who has been awfully quiet suddenly questions, and Hoseok doesn’t think he’ll get out of this damn place with his sanity intact. 

 

“If she’s the one behind this I’m gonna fucking skin her alive.” Dahye growls, panting and gritting on her teeth. 

 

Hoseok’s first instinct was to defend her right away. To tell Dahye that it is not Jina, never would’ve been, but he isn’t even so sure of the fact himself. 

 

He just looks at her, and she looks at him, and maybe it’s not her. He’d like to think that it’s not her, because she still stands close despite being out of his grasp, eyeing the locked door as she presses a hand to her open wound, a wound she received so he remains unscathed.

 

There isn’t anything to be done right now, so he waits for when they’re outside, far, far away from this damn maze, when she fills all the holes in his story.

 

“I got the door!!” Chaeyoung suddenly shrieks.

 

“Good, because they just arrived,” Dahye warns, and she sounds like she’s running. “We’re almost in position. You better hurry up.”

 

“I’m ready with the lights, boss. Waiting on your signal.”

 

And on cue, Hoseok turns his head towards Jina so fast that it hurts, and Jina’s presence suddenly feels even heavier. 

 

It was a brief plan, a hurried one that they decided on while literally fighting for their lives, but it’s the only solid ground they currently have. 

 

“Shit,” he lets out breathily, and Jina gives him a weird look.

 

“We need to move,” Mingi steps closer, and Hoseok is lost, unable to decide what to do with the woman in front of him.

 

He looks to the side, past the open door, and there is no way back now. Soon enough the place will be flooded with people that want his fucking head, they are quite literally stuck, and he can’t afford Jina leaving his sight in this damn place at the moment.

 

“Cut it off.” Hoseok reaches out for Jina. 

 

It takes one, two, three seconds, and when Jina is in his arms, the lights around them go out. 

 

“I’m here,” Hoseok whispers. 

 

One hand is firm on her elbow, the other is wrapped around her waist, and he keeps her flush against him by the small of her back. She tenses up so bad. Her hands immediately reach out for him, fingers latching on the material of his thick blazer.

 

“N-no…”

 

It’s quiet, deafeningly quiet, and Hoseok only hears Jina’s shaky breaths. He lets go of her elbow, replacing it soon with a soaked cheek, wishing he didn’t have gloves on to feel her again while he tilts her head up in a position where she would be looking at him if they could see one another. 

 

“I’m right here. You can trust me, can’t you?” Hoseok’s tone is affirmative, and the detective shakes. Her breaths are ragged, often interrupted with small, almost inaudible gasps. Something in his chest bursts when he feels her nod in his hand. “I’ll… I’ll keep you safe. Just stick by me, I’ll get us out of here.”

 

The backup lights click on, dimming the silent hallway with red, angry, alerting lights.

 

And there they are, bizarrely standing amongst 6 unconscious men in each other’s arms, eyes meeting the moment they are visible again. Their other two companions stare at them in complete shock.

 

Jina’s eyes are teary, but the tears never make it out. 

 

“I…I’m supposed to do that.” 

 

The heavy door unlocks with a hiss, and Hoseok raises his gaze to see the padlock turn green, finally granting them access. Jina turns too, flinching at the subtle sound. Hoseok gestures for his two companions to get in position, while he loosens his grip on Jina just enough to allow them to move away from the door, enough for him to speak without being heard.

 

“Stay here, we’ll be right out.”

 

Jina shakes her head almost hysterically, and the way her eyes widen has him even more worried, if that is even possible.

 

And he really should be, because she feels like there is only a hair between her and absolute insanity. In the span of a few hours, the woman has gone through way too much shit for her brain not to scramble, and right here in his arms, Jina is triggered to let loose, let herself be held, but with one look at her surroundings, she is smacked back to reality.

 

God only knows how she is still standing on her feet right now.

 

“No,” Jina lets out, fist tightening on the material of Hoseok’s clothes. “No. Yoongi told me to get you out of here. I-I came to get you out of here.”

 

Yoongi. Hoseok’s heart sinks at the name, and he begins to feel himself panic over the lack of his presence by his side, but there is no time for this for now. If he lets his mind wander, all that everyone just went through would go in vain.

 

He gives a brief look back at the door, at the two awaiting figures, and he turns to Jina again. “We’ll open the door and take them out one by one when they peak. I’m begging you, stay behind me and don’t act reckless, you hear me?”

 

Jina nods, eyes wide and almost desperate, and Hoseok decides to trust her.

 

It’s a big fucking word, trust, and he hopes he doesn’t have it wrapped around his neck when… if they get out of here.

 

But they have to get out of here. Every life Hoseok would give his own to is at risk, a big, raging storm threatening to overtake them all. Damn him if he ever lets something like this happen.

 

So Hoseok lets Jina go, and true to her words, she stays at his back when each pair stays at their respective side of the door. 

 

Mingi cracks the door open, Hoseok pushes it just a bit, and they wait.

 

Hushed whispers pour out of the crack of darkness, and they all hold their breaths in anticipation. Hoseok tightens his grip on the silenced gun in his hand and Jina only does the same, and they wait for the approaching, careful footsteps to finally make an appearance.

 

A body steps out, steps to the side, and Mingi’s awaiting hands welcome him immediately. Another follows, and he falls limp in Hoseok’s arms seconds later. He carefully lowers him by their feet, giving Jina a brief look before he focuses on the widening gap of the door being opened further.

 

Surely by now, the god-knows-how-many inside have recognized a pattern, therefore it takes longer for anyone else to make an appearance. Hoseok holds his breath, praying for one more to be dumb enough to come out.

 

He hears it then. They arrived.

 

He hears the sirens.

 

He almost impulsively starts moving before he sees a barrel of a gun, then a hand, then a whole arm past the door, and he hopes there aren’t many others inside because he pulls him out with all the force he could master, making him slam face-first in the wall opposite to the door, and Jina is quick to kick his gun away from his hand before she pushes the barrel of her own harshly to the back of his skull.

 

“Lights!” Hoseok grumbles out, pulling the door all the way open.

 

It lights up again when Hoseok, Momo, and Mingi are inside, and sounds of struggle echo in the empty room, sending mild, brief panic into Hoseok’s system before he realizes which party of the two is struggling.

 

Jina hears rattles from the level above them, rapid voices and feet spreading, and she doesn’t think twice when she pulls her hand back and claps the butt of the gun on the back of the man’s head,  hurriedly moving to the room before he even meets the ground.

 

She stops for a few moments, taking in the scene unfolding in front of her before she starts moving. She is briefly confused about who is who, but she starts to make out faces, uniforms that indicate who is who.

 

Seokjin and Taehyung are on their knees, trying to crack out of their zip ties, and Jina runs to them first. She picks up a randomly fallen dagger from the white-tiled floor and slides on her knees to where the Seokjin is, being the closest. The look on the man’s face could’ve had Jina cracking up if they weren’t about to fucking die.

 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Seokjin questions loudly over the rapid sounds of struggle and fist meeting bone, and Jina ignores him. 

 

She cuts his zip tie, pulling them both closer to the ground to dodge a flying bullet, and hurries to her next target, the place getting more filled with tired heaves of breaths than bullets and pained yells. And unlike Seokjin, Taehyung stays quiet, pulling his hands away from his back so Jina has better access, and is out of his own restrainers right away.

 

“We need to go,” Jina announces, panicked, earning a few shocked stares while she looks at the ground, counting two, three… seven men and women laying on the ground, some bloody and… dead, and Jina has to physically will herself to look away. “They’re here.”

 

And she doesn’t think, then. She just grabs Taehyungs arm, locking her eyes with Hoseok, before they all just make a fucking run for it.

They’re a mess of running, heaving, pained bodies running in a maze, led by a panicked corrupt detective that is grasping a hand for dear life.

 

Everyone is retreating to the back like Jina instructed, and halfway through the tunnels to the last warehouse, they find a bleeding Wooyoung with San tying a thick cloth to his thigh, careful not to leave any traces of blood behind. 

 

With every step he takes, Hoseok’s mind drags him back to Yoongi, and Jina’s unbelievably tight grip around his hand is the only thing pulling him through the tunnels.

 

They all report their positions, ready to flee, and thanks to Jina’s shaky instructions, Jeongguk is soon kicking down one final door before they are welcomed by the night skies and fresh air, bringing hope a step closer.

 

Somewhere between the final warehouse and the cars, Jina trips on something, and her knees meet the dirty ground helplessly, but a pair of hands, steady yet hurried, are pulling her back up to her feet soon enough, and they start running again regardless. 

 

Hoseok pulls Jina in front of him when he notices that she keeps falling behind, almost afraid to feel her grasp loosen one more time. She spots her car nearby, as well as multiple vans and cars just waiting, ready, and someone is pushing the trunk of her car closed.

 

They all separate, then, and Jina notices a few additions to their silly little group, women that happen to just appear out of the darkness as if they were made out of it, all headed in the same direction they are. 

 

The figure by her car climbs in the driver’s seat, and Jina pulls out the last bit of energy to pull Hoseok to her target.  The sirens are loud, Hoseok’s ears begin to ring. Jina pulls the back door open and pushes him inside, climbing right after him. Before she even gets to close the door, the car speeds right off.

For a few seconds, Hoseok is confused, panicked, just feeling way too many emotions simultaneously. Jina still has a firm grip on him, tight and almost painful as she looks back, eyes waiting, hurriedly scanning the highway they’re leaving in their wake.

 

“Is anyone hurt?”

 

And then Yoongi turns his head briefly, meeting Hoseok’s eyes, a certain emotion radiating through the darkened color of his eyes, and Hoseok thinks he might’ve cried if he wasn’t so focused on the ringing in his ears. It muffles the sirens, muffles the sound of Jina’s harsh intakes of breath, and muffles Yoongi’s repeated, panicked question when he receives no answer.

 

“Are you hurt?” Hoseok questions instead.

 

“You need to hurry,” Jina mumbles, looking back at Yoongi, who only obliges, and Hoseok has so many questions. 

 

But Jina looks out of it, probably pouring whatever’s left of her energy into the tightness of her grip around Hoseok’s fingers. They’ve gotten pretty far by now, thanks to her car’s engine and Yoongi’s angry speed, but Jina isn’t snapping out of it.

 

The car calms down, they get further, and Jina sits in her seat properly. Her mouth stays slightly agape, lips just a bit apart as her breaths get calmer, although she never lets go of Hoseok’s hand. He leans towards her to take a good look at her face, and when she doesn’t give any reaction, keeps staring ahead, leaning her head back against the seat, Hoseok has to move her himself.

 

He takes off the annoying gloves in a beat and slides his hand across her cheek in the other, letting his fingers sink through her soaked hair and brings her face to face with him.

 

She’s there, eyes opened and conscious, but the color inside is glassy, and they hold no emotion whatsoever. Hoseok pushes her hood off of her hair with the same hand, not finding it in him to try to get out of Jina’s tight grasp, and if he was worried one bit before, he’s now worried a hundred because the woman doesn’t react, doesn’t push away nor lean closer, she just stays like that, loose limbs and a bloody face staring back at him.

 

Hoseok frowns. “Are you okay?”

 

No, she’s obviously fucking not you dimwit. He thinks to himself and waits for a reply that never comes. 

 

“What’s wrong?” Yoongi asks, trying to take a quick glance but fails. 

 

“She’s…” Hoseok doesn’t know what to say. “She’s out of it.”

 

Yoongi looks at the rearview mirror, and there he sees it all. Jina’s empty expression, Hoseok’s hand on her face as he draws closer, maybe to get a clearer look, he hopes it's just to get a clearer look, but his friend’s distress is radiating off of him in waves. 

 

It’s not an expression of worry for a colleague, or in their case, a nemesis. Hoseok is anxious. He shakes Jina, calls her name maybe once or twice, and Yoongi sees Hoseok’s worry escalate when she just stays there, empty eyes open, only seeing him.

 

Hoseok brings their joint hands up, trying to pry her off, to do something, anything, and Yoongi sees it. He sees it all.

 

And it’s all spelling out trouble.

 

But Jina seals her lips, something snapping in her when Hoseok removes his hand from her face and tries to check for injuries himself, and she flinches when he tries to touch the area between her abdomen and stomach. 

 

Although she shoves his hand away, Hoseok is glad she is doing something. She holds his other wrist, keeping his hand away from her for a few seconds, both of them just staring at each other, before her grip starts to loosen on both of his hands. 

 

“Hoseok… I--” Jina cuts herself off, looking away for a few seconds. 

 

She puts her hand where he just touched, feeling a solid object in her inner pocket that manages to pull her out of her head just enough to fumble with the zipper of her leather jacket and slip a hand in her inner pocket to shakily pull out the phone Jeongyeon had given her.

 

“This… this is Beak Jonwoo’s phone. A doctor from forensics gave it to me today and i--i was looking for you… or for anyone, and--and someone’s trying to cover it all up from inside--”

 

Hoseok straightens up, brings her closer again and gently spells out. “Hey. Slow down, hm?”

 

She breathes through her nose, swallowing, eyes a daze as she tries to keep going. His hand is on her cheek again, and Hoseok sighs a little in relief when she leans into his hand just a little.

 

Just enough.

 

“Someone’s trying to hide evidence,” She tells him, slower, but the syllables still blend together. “They found his phone on him, and they ordered to keep it… hidden. Not to give it in as evidence because it’s…” She breathes when Hoseok brings his other hand to gently push away the stubborn strands of hair that are stuck to her forehead. 

 

His eyes have softened, no longer as anxious as they used to be, patient. He leisurely runs a hand in her hair and Jina closes her eyes for just a second before she wills herself to go on. 

 

“It’s already broken, it won’t be fixed, but luh-look,” Jina looks down, bringing the phone up between them to prove a point, and Hoseok grabs it from her. “It’s just the screen. It cah-can be fixed, I’m sure it can. And even if not we can ju--just get the call log and…” She shakes her head, squeezing her eyes shut for a brief moment before continuing. “Someone from the inside is pulling all of this up. And now… with all of this… I just... I don’t know who’s duh-doing this. It’s someone from the inside and I--”

 

He feels selfish from the relief that washes over him at her explanation, rendering her innocent of all the things that made his brain all fuzzy because he doesn’t think the woman in his arms is capable of something so complex as lying in her current state. She’s pouring it all out, keeps mumbling even more things when Hoseok hushes her, both hands cupping her cheeks ever so gently.

 

“What Taehyung said was true,” Yoongi suddenly grumbles out in the quietness of the car, and Hoseok meets his gaze in the rearview mirror. “If this is really Beak’s phone--”

 

“It is,” Jina blurts out. “It is, I swear!”

 

Yoongi stays quiet for five solid seconds after her voice had died down. “Then we’re royally fucked up.”

The car falls silent again, and Hoseok brings his gaze back to Jina, whose face remains empty and tired as she looks at him.

 

He studies her face, a habit he found himself enjoying. To trace her features with his eyes, drawing the prettiest of pictures in his head of her, to memorize every curve and every wrinkle to store in his mind for the future, for a time that may come where he has to let go of her.

 

But he doesn’t think of this now. Along with her now-familiar features, Hoseok’s eyes meet blood, cuts, and inflamed skin that has his stomach curling.

 

“What happened to your face?” He inquiries tenderly, voice low and gentle.

 

But Jina shakes her head repeatedly, making a move to pull herself away, but Hoseok brings her nearer until her face is buried in the crook of his neck. She keeps shaking it, faintly so, until Hoseok brings a hand to the back of her head, running his fingertips on her scalp, and she sighs.

 

Jina stills in his arms, and Hoseok checks if she had fallen asleep in the rearview mirror, but he can see her eyes still open, as empty as they were just seconds ago, and this isn’t right. Something nasty is coiling in his gut as he thinks of all the things that Jina might be keeping to herself, but he doesn’t dare try to ask her one more time.

 

He leans his back against the seat, pulls Jina on his lap, and lets her legs rest between his. She stays like that for the longest time, head resting on his shoulder with glassy eyes staring out of the window aimlessly. 

 

Hoseok and Yoongi’s eyes keep meeting in the rearview mirror, unspoken words and promises lingering in the air between them, and Hoseok knows he will have to explain their intimacy later because he sure as hell won’t let the woman wither away by his side and do nothing.

 

Until the car stops, Hoseok runs his fingers through her hair, traces the skin of her palm, anything to provide her any kind of comfort, one that she cannot physically ask for but he knows she needs. 

 

She just stays like that, limp and unbearably awake in his arms while her brain flatlines against her will.

 

But then the car stops, and Yoongi is getting out, but they’re not home. They’re somewhere dark and windy, and Hoseok soon recognizes the familiar, tall walls of one of their own warehouses, and he realizes that he, too, should be getting out.

 

“I’ll be back, okay?” He whispers, his lips grazing the skin of her forehead.

 

She nods once, allows herself to be moved, even makes an effort to help herself out even though she craves the warmth Hoseok radiates but has no energy to protest his parting. Hoseok makes sure to push the door closed gently, giving Jina one last glance before he walks after his Hyung to the trunk of the car.

 

Neither of them speaks a word to each other, leaving everything to hang in the air that is soon filled with the sound of nearing footsteps. Hoseok looks at Yoongi, who silently pulls the trunk open to reveal a man, one of the mob, with his hands and legs tied and a gag in his mouth.

 

He’s awake, Hoseok sees, but not awake enough to struggle. 

 

“Are you two okay?” Hoseok turns at the sound of Jeongguk’s voice. He’s a bit disheveled and bloody, but he’s fine. The pair of them nod when he settles between them, and he eyes the dazed man in Jina’s trunk. “How the hell did she end up here?”

 

Hoseok hasn’t uncovered this far, so he settles for a shrug. “She’s pretty shaken up. She wouldn’t answer if i asked.” He digs in his pocket and fished out the phone she gave him earlier, pushing it in the youngest’s chest. “This is Baek Jonwoo’s phone. We need it cracked ASAP.”

 

Jeongguk frowns, and Yoongi is still silent. “How did you find it?”

 

Hoseok briefly summarizes what Jina told him, to which Jeongguk nods, eyes weirded out and showing maybe a hint of worry for the woman alone in the car. 

 

Yoongi steps back from the car, putting some distance between them halfway through Hoseok’s little speech, leaving Jeongguk to carry the man into the warehouse by himself, throwing a promise for Hoseok to call once he has something on the phone he pocketed only minutes ago.

 

When the large doors fall closed after Jeongguk’s entry, Hoseok turns to Yoongi who almost blends in with the darkness if it wasn’t for a pair of pale hands and a visible nape. 

 

There’s a cigarette in his hand. The tip lights a furious orange when he inhales.

 

Hoseok approaches him from the back, quiet, awkward, but not embarrassed. Never embarrased.  He doesn’t know just how much his friend has seen, but if there’s even the slimmest of chances that he may have not seen much, and whatever’s going on between him and Jina can stay hidden between them, he’ll take it.

 

Not for anything, not because he knows that it is wrong (which he does) but more because he knows that once there is attention on the pair of them, some of the progress he has his hands on just might slip right out of his hands.

 

And he wants to hold onto it for as long as possible. Standing there by the railing with gravity pulling him mercilessly to his doom, he’ll keep holding on because at least he has this.

 

Stolen touches and tender looks amongst pain and guilt.

 

Hoseok and Yoongi stand there in silence, looking out into nothingness, each of their minds a direction of its own.

 

“Jimin isn’t answering his phone.” Yoongi is the first to break the silence. He doesn’t look at Hoseok as he raises his cigarette to his lips. “Sent me a text, though. Says he met Park Daeun.”

 

Hoseok’s heart sinks, and he almost cracks his neck when he swings his head towards Yoongi.

 

This should be a good thing. Jimin is family, he found his long lost mother, this should be good. Heck, the best thing that happened all fucking day. But an unusual feeling of distress overtakes his already exhausted body. It hitchs his breath.

 

And Yoongi notices. He notices everything.

 

“The thought of meeting them had him on a choke hold ever since he realized who Jina is.” Yoongi mumbles around the cigarette in his mouth. He inhales a large breath, holds it in his lungs long enough for Hoseok to look away, then the older turns to him instead. “Especially Jina.”

 

“He told me so.”

 

“I can take anything, Hoseok.” Yoongi says, and Hoseok turns to him again. They hold each other’s gazes, the air falling silent around them for a few seconds. “I can take her being a pain in my ass, and everyone’s ass for the matter. But Jimin is where I draw the line. If something happens—“

 

“She’s his sister, Yoongi.”

 

“She’s unpredictable,” Yoongi shoots right away. “She could easily be the one behind whatever the fuck just happened and came to push the suspicion away from her.”

 

“Why did you trust her to get me out of there, then?” Hoseok says, and Yoongi subtly raises an eyebrow, Hoseok sees it under the dark hair falling on his forehead. “If she isn’t to be trusted. Surly you wouldn’t have let her go if you think so.” He pauses, briefly glancing at the lonely dark car a few feet away before he turns to his best friend again. “Have you fucking seen her? The woman can’t form a damn sentence.”

 

“That doesn’t mean anything—“

 

“No, Yoongi. It means plenty. She almost got shot trying to get me out of there. It means a-fucking-lot.”

 

“Are you seriously this naive?”

 

Hoseok almost steps back in shock, eyebrows furrowing with an expression of disbelief clinging to his face so quickly that he doesn’t have time to hide it. 

 

“What?”

 

Yoongi throws the filter to the ground steps on it, shoving his hands in the pockets of his pants. He takes a deep breath, looking up to the blacked-out skies, and Hoseok still stares at him like he kicked his puppy.

 

“Don’t get too attached, Hoseok.” Yoongi says. A warning, an advice, a threat, all of them sound bitter coming with that tone. 

 

Yoongi starts walking away without another word.

 

And Hoseok has nothing else to do except to try to put an end to his hyung’s repeated voice in his head as he pushes his legs to move to the driver’s door of Jina’s car. Once he’s in, he looks at her in the rearview mirror. She’s still staring out of the window, eyes droopy and hooded.

 

“You should call your mom. I’ll take you to the hospital first.”

 

“No,” Jina breathes out, her voice barely meeting Hoseok’s ears. “I don’t wanna go to a hospital.”

 

“Jina--”

 

“I don’t want her to see me like this either.” She goes on, moving her head to look at the back of his own from her position. “Please, Hoseok.”

 

He turns the engine back on, a sigh leaving his lips as he takes off.

The sound of a shower running keeps Hoseok’s rapid thoughts at bay, distracting him as he gathers the things he knows Jina would need after her shower. 

 

Once they arrived she told him that she wants to shower, that being the only thing she uttered since they left Yoongi at the warehouse. He had pulled the first thing he saw from his closet, plaid pajama pants, and a plain dark sweater, and a white undershirt along with a couple of towels, and even went as far as checking the water pressure and temperature before she goes in.

 

As he waits for her to finish, Hoseok takes a five-minute shower of his own, swallows down his meds, and changes into something more comfortable. He tries to slow down his thoughts, to put out the flames eating away at his brain as he brings out a first-aid’s kit and dims the light in the guest bedroom, an attempt to accommodate Jina’s unspoken needs.

 

When he holds his phone to send Daeun a text, it all hits him right in the face once again.

 

It’s late, he doesn’t know where she is, if Jimin is still with her, but maybe it was a good move to keep Jina with him for the night. In a state like hers, Jina could’ve easily gone nuts if she met her brother in a context she probably wouldn’t like.

 

He sends a quick text to Daeun, informing her that Jina is staying the night with him, that she shouldn’t worry if her daughter doesn’t answer her phone. 

 

Although he wishes not to let her out of his sight for tonight, to keep her as close as he possibly can, he is unsure if she would want something like this. So, he puts his wishes and wants aside and puts a glass of water on the bedside table, opens the curtains, and waits a couple more minutes before he hears the water cut off.

 

On his way out of the guest room, he sees the door at the end of the hallway crack open, and a cleaner version of Jina comes out.

 

Her cheeks are redder than usual, probably from the pleasant heat of the shower. Brown strands fall freely on her face, dripping on the hem of the sweater that reaches just above the mid of her thighs, and Hoseok wants to pull them away and dry her hair properly, but he gives her her space, waits until she makes the first move.

 

Hoseok always liked to see her in his clothes, for some reason. The way they fit loosely around her smaller figure, hiding her fingertips behind cotton and wool, it’s like he’s leaving a print on her. Like she’s a normal puzzle piece in the complexion of his life, fitting perfectly beyond the four walls he’s been alone and withering within for so, so long.

 

“Feeling better?” Hoseok asks.

 

It takes Jina a couple of seconds before she shakes her head no, and starts moving towards him. She’s holding the items she’s retrieved from the clothes she wore earlier. A gun, a tactical stick, her phone, and a wallet, two in each, and it looked like she was struggling to keep them all in her hands.

 

Once she is close enough, Hoseok pulls them out of her hands and silently ushers her to the guest bedroom. He follows her in, leaving the door ajar after him as he puts her belongings on an armchair near the open curtains before he turns to her.

 

She’s seated on the edge of the bed, arms dangling between her thighs as she watches him blankly. He picks up the first-aid’s kit from where he left it and sits beside her, moving her so she faces him. 

 

“Take your sweater off, I should disinfect the cut on your shoulder.” He tells her, all so gentle as he gets to work, and Jina has trouble comprehending what he said for a few seconds, her brain refusing to, but Hoseok’s light touch on her thigh to pull her nearer allows a breath to flow in her airless lungs, letting her brain know that it’s okay.

 

He wouldn’t hurt her. Not again. Not him.

 

The silence is broken by the rustling sound of Jina pulling her arm out of the sleeve, leaving the sweater around her neck. Hoseok grabs a hold of warm skin with a cold hand and Jina shivers under his touch, but she doesn’t pull away when he runs his thumb under the flushed wound on her bicep.

 

She flinches when the disinfectant grazes the infected area, and Hoseok finds himself mumbling a little “Sorry,” as he goes on. She watches as he gently taps an ointment, rips a band-aid open with his mouth, and neatly spreads it horizontally along the wound. He pulls the sweater back down from her neck and helps her arm into the sleeve, then he directs his gaze to her face.

 

They look at each other for a considerable amount of seconds, and Hoseok has to physically hold himself back from kissing every crack in her skin, wishing the pain away. 

 

He almost gives in when he slides a hand across her less-hurt cheek, pulling her closer, close enough to see how dead the usual brightness in her eyes is. And it kills him to see her like this, it drowns him in oceans of guilt, knowing he is the reason behind it all.

 

So he disinfects the larger cut on the corner of her mouth, the one on her cheek, below her eyebrow, and on her hairline, puts band-aids on most of them, and lets her face go to avert eye contact. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”

 

He sees her shake her head from the corner of his eye as he stores everything away, pushing the box on the floor for now. He gets up, walking to the bedside table to acquire a couple of pills and the glass of water he left there earlier, and unlike last time,  Jina doesn’t hesitate to swallow down the pills he gave her. 

 

“I’m gonna be in my room if you need me,” Hoseok tells her, grabbing the now-empty glass she gives him. He steps back, and he doesn’t know what to make of the suddenly changed pattern of Jina’s breathing. “No crying alone in my hallway this time. If something is wrong just barge in.”

 

His weak attempt at humor makes a little ghost of a smile linger on her lips for a split second before it returns back to how it was only a second before, but Hoseok takes it. He takes it all.

 

It takes everything in him not to tuck her in like he did the last time she was here, to give her the space she might be needing as he walks out of the dimly lit room and closes the door behind him with a quiet click.

 

He walks to his own room with heavy feet and a racing brain. Something is constantly tugging at his chest, getting more and more violent the further he gets away from the closed door.

 

He leaves the lights dim, just in case, and stumbles to his bed, letting his almost-dead phone charge on the bedside table. His back cracks melodically as he stretches beneath the covers, settling on the side that doesn’t sting, and he faces the glass walls overlooking the sleeping city.

 

It’s late, nearing sunrise but not quite there yet, and he realizes just how long the day was. Time seemed to stretch, seconds bleeding through minutes and hours that just seem to last forever, driving him closer to insanity with each fucking push.

 

He tries to fall asleep, he really does, but there are way too many damn things flying like arrows in his brain. They fly and bounce, never hitting a single target, just poking around every available surface that soon floods with crimson, drowning his whole brain altogether.

 

And it's too early to have a panic attack, so he springs himself up in a sitting position and puts his head in his hands. He had it in mind that he could lose the silly little fight with his brain in his waking moments in a few hours, even feeling bad that Jina might have to see him like this one more time, but he realizes that he’s not awake because of his own fear.

 

He’s awake because a woman so fierce looked so empty, the woman that makes his chest clench and his heart stutter like a kid asking the teacher to call his mom, and it’s gonna haunt him all the way down to his last breath.

 

And he can’t have that. He isn’t used to her being so fucking quiet and scarily blank. Nothing about this is healthy, he knows this much, and he just won’t have it. 

 

Hoseok is back on his feet, wide steps pushing him closer to the door. He puts a hand on the cold knob, pulls it open, and there she is.

 

Jina stands there with a hand raised in a little fist, ready to knock.

 

Hoseok holds his breath in, freezing in place for some seconds where he thinks that this isn’t real, that she is just a fragment of his imagination that proves just how desperate he became to have her by his side, but her next words manage to do the trick of showing him that this is real.

 

“Can I sleep next to you tonight?”

 

“What?”

 

“I…I don’t wanna stay alone.” She mumbles. 

 

If he is startled, he doesn’t show so. He stands there for a couple of seconds like his brain is translating the sentence into a simpler complexion of words, then he is nodding and stepping aside, pulling the door open just enough for her to enter.

 

Her beeline to the less-messy side of the bed is slow. She drags her feet and even almost trips on them, but steady hands are close by, just like they were earlier today, pulling her up straight again. Jina mumbles a quiet thank you, to which Hoseok just nods, and he doesn’t leave her side until she climbs under the covers with a little sigh.

 

He is a bit unsure at first, but really, Jina wouldn’t be here if she didn’t want to.

 

She inhales. “You don’t have to keep the lights on.”

 

“It’s fine.”

 

The room falls silent after she nods. Hoseok doesn’t know what to do with his hands, finding it difficult to keep them to himself unlike the times they stayed under the same covers before, and Jina just slides down the bed and covers the lower part of her face with the dauvet.

 

Then it is silent for a while, until a breathy voice whispers from Hoseok’s side.

 

“My mom used to… let me hold her pinkie when I didn't feel well.”

 

“Why the pinkie?”

 

“Because I often feel bad when I ask for help…or comfort… or anything in particular. So she’d just… let me hold her pinkie instead of her whole hand to minimize the feeling for me.”

 

She fidgets, finds a comfortable position on her side to face him, and flutters her eyes closed. All while Hoseok stares, mind stuck in place, repeating her sentence over and over again in his brain like a mantra until it actually sinks in.

 

Because, hell, he knows all too well how that feels like.

 

“Well,” Hoseok begins softly, sliding down the bed, closing some distance between them. He pulls up his pinky from under the dauvet until it settles between them, in Jina’s line of sight. “You can hold mine.”

 

She opens her eyes, keeps them hooded and low, but she looks at his hand and stays frozen for a few seconds.

 

And Hoseok will be patient. He realizes that whatever the context is, he will let Jina set her rhythm first.

 

He waits until she sucks in a little breath, and she is moving her hand from beneath the thick material until her fingers make an appearance, then Hoseok feels warm fingers wrap around his pinky.

 

Jina looks at their connected skin, and Hoseok just looks at her . He watches, waits, thinking to himself that he started to uncover some sort of pattern, finally able to read a page in her book.

 

Because Jina pulls his hand closer until it is in her embrace, and she curls herself upon it, wrapping her other arm around his whole forearm. She puts her forehead to his now curled knuckles and hides her face away, and Hoseok already knows what’s coming.

 

He was…yeah, he was afraid of seeing it unfold.

 

He didn’t know just how much somebody else’s tears could break him until he first saw her eyes glint that night in the park.

 

She tries to be quiet at first. Like she did in the park, like the first time she cried in his arms. Her body rocks silently once, and Hoseok feels warm puffs of air on the skin of his wrist, but it gets worse when the second sob rolls in.

 

The distance between them seized to exist after Hoseok pulled her into him with firm hands and hushed words whispered in her ear.  

 

She lowers her head to the crook of his neck, already leaving damp traces on Hoseok’s skin, but he only pulls her closer.

 

He doesn’t shush her, doesn’t try to lul her to sleep.

 

“You can cry,” He says instead, voice so soft that Jina couldn’t help but melt right into his arms. “You can cry all you want.”

 

Jina gets louder, wrapped her arms around his neck, keeping him close, close, and closer with shaking limbs,  knees curled between them. 

 

Emotions overflow right out, and Jina is far too damn tired to even try to stop them. She cries, sobs, whimpers where she feels the safest she has felt in a while, and damn Hoseok for holding her the way he always does.

 

But he doesn’t hold her like she could break in his arms this time. He holds her tight, like he’s trying to mold both their bodies into one, and he shows no intentions of letting go anytime soon.

 

And Jina never felt this. Never felt the tight hold, the hand in her hair as it brushes through oh, oh so gently, not the way Hoseok does, and Jina wants to cry even more.

 

“I’m so—so tired.”

 

“I know. I’m sorry.”

 

“Today was tuh-too fu-cking hard, H-Hoseok.”

 

It stings. His chest, his eyes, they both sting, and he places a gentle kiss to the crown of her head while she shakes in his arms. 

 

“You still don’t wanna tell me what happened?” He whispers in her hair, moving his hand up and down her back comfortingly. 

 

Jina sobs again, and the sound breaks his heart even more. Her grip tightens around him, moving her legs to tangle them between his and feel him against her as much as it is humanly possible. 

 

The thought of all the things she wants to say makes fear surge through her body, as if she is reliving it all. The hands on her skin, the hungry looks, the filthy words, she feels and hears it all too loud.

 

She tried to scrape the skin where the man touched in the shower, to wipe it away until her skin is set aflame, leaving behind an inflamed and scraped patch of skin trailing from her abdomen until just below her sternum.

 

But nothing works. She still sees their faces, still hears and feels it all.

 

She isn’t breathing properly, doesn’t hear Hoseok well either when he points it out, but she is brought out of her mind when he pulls away from her.

 

He holds her face and leans his forehead against hers.

 

“It’s all over,” He says. Jina hears him this time. “We’re here now. You’re safe, yeah?” Jina leans away to take a proper look at him, and she sees the subtle gloss of his eyes beyond her own tears. “I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry—“

 

Jina leant forwards all too quickly, capturing Hoseok’s lips in a kiss that leaves them both frozen and stiff for a couple of seconds. 

 

She has her eyes squeezed shut, tears still flowing helplessly, but Hoseok’s are still open wide, filled with too many emotions at once. 

 

But he is soon pulling her closer, a hand trailing down to her waist, and he lets his lips move against hers.

 

Jina sighs. This kiss isn’t like the one they shared before, it was hungry and hurried and messy. They move slowly this time, slow breaths and slow touches, and Jina lets herself feel this instead.

 

She lets herself feel his hands on her body, his lips rhythmically moving along with hers, spreading something so warm, so intimate between them. 

 

Hoseok’s thumb moves across her soaked cheek, wiping away the upcoming tears as they slow down. Jina’s hand shakily moves to his nape, pulling him closer, unintentionally growing a dependency on his body against hers. 

 

He is the first to break the kiss, but he doesn’t pull away. His lips soon find the scraped skin on the corner of her mouth, then the one on her cheek, below her eyebrow, and by her hairline, and Jina doesn’t fight the tears that continue to flow.

God, he looks so fucking sad when he kisses her again. 

 

Notes:

:( honestly i teared up while writing the last part. idk if thats me being an over emotional piece of shit but yeah.

and…shout out to my two best friends that i honestly wouldn’t have had enough motivation to write this chapter without their nagging.

PTD ON STAGE IS TOMORROW!! will you be watching? because i sure as hell will be ehehe

its almost the end of this dang year so…i hope that next year treats you better than this year did.

always, thank you so much for reading.

see you next chapter!!

Chapter 19: diciannove

Summary:

“Let’s play a little game then.” Hoseok aims his firearm. “You’ll talk when I point my gun at you,” He moves to the next person, demonstrating. “If you say something that pisses me off, or if you stay quiet, you’ll get shot. And if you know anything about me, you’ll know I like taking my time, so I won't be shooting to kill for a long, long time.”

Notes:

*crickets sound*
cough cough
been a while huh🤪
listen listen adult life isnt really treating me well as you can clearly tell. BUT I HAVE A DOUBLE UPDATE TO MAKE UP FOR IT!! HELLOO!!
i originally wrote around 16k for chapter 18 but i decided to split it in two since two different events happen.
(if youre atill here im so sorry for being so late. i got a job and eventually quit and uni is beating my ass and im struggling mentally and lISTEN BOI IM GON FUCKING CRY OKAY)
HERES A SUMMERY OF THE PREVIOUS CHAPTER!

Jina gets them out of the tunnels, they’re all lovely dove and scared for each other nd shit yeah. turns out yoongi and jina had a plan and yoongi was fine and abducted one of the attackers into jina’s car and he drove them all to the warehouse to interrogate their hostage but jina seemed really out of it and got everyone concerned nd shit. Yoongi gets mad at hoseok because oh no why is he getting so close to jina? he also tells him that jimin and daeun met and warns hoseok that if jina does anything to his jimin she gon catch these hands bro.

jina tells hoseok that she doesnt want her mom to see her like this so she stays with him instead. he gives her his clothes and cleans her wounds like the good boyfie he is then he leaves her in the guest room to get some sleep. both their asses keep tossing and turning and jina goes finally goes to him because she cant sleep alone and they lay together in hoseok’s bed. Jina holds his pinky and tries to fall asleep but she goes through a tttiiiiinnyy liddol breakdown that hoseok holds her through and BOOM!! they kiss kiss.

heh yeah. its been long huh?
ANYWAYS IM GONNA GO UPLOAD THE NEXT CHAPTER RIGHT AWAY!! SEE YOU!!
!!!!’SMUT WARNING IN THE NEXT CHAPTER!!!!!!!

It was foolish, falling for someone you’ve accidentally fallen upon in a random coffee shop on some autumn day, yet it felt so easy. Too easy. Namjoon should’ve been suspicious of it from the very start. 

 

But he wasn’t. He was the opposite of that. He took everything Seokjin gave him and buried it so deep in him that he still has trouble digging some up to this day. 

 

Who can blame him, really? Namjoon tried his fair share of dating before, and to be frank, no one had him feeling whatever the fuck Kim Seokjin had intoxicated him with. 

 

Maybe that was it, though. Maybe he was meant to do that to get him to lay down his guard, he never really got the chance to ask if any of it was real.

 

It felt real, though. Everything. Every touch that lingered, every kiss that lasted almost too long, it all felt too real. Building memories upon memories that just seem to never fade, always, always fresh like they just happened yesterday.

 

But it all ended way too quickly for him to even have time to comprehend anything. One day he had a pair of idiots to look after and a lover that made his heart ram through his chest upon every encounter, and the next he just… didn’t.

 

He never found them since the day Taehyung shot that false shot. 

 

He’d been lost on that train track, with nowhere to look that he already hasn’t. It was a freezing cold night and Namjoon couldn’t feel his limbs, alone and stranded, and Seokjin had his phone turned off.

 

He had collapsed that night. He remembers seeing a silhouette hovering over him when he blinked awake with a dazed head and blurry eyes, he felt warm fingers trace his face and a warmer kiss on his forehead, but it all must’ve been a dream. It must’ve been his mind pulling shit up to torment him further.

 

Because it wasn’t the last time he thinks that he has just seen Seokjin. Across the street, in a random bar, in the car behind him, hell, even in the back of the mirror in his foggy bathroom after a shower. Like a ghost of his past, lingering, clinging, clawing at his brain.

 

He was never sure what was real and what wasn’t anymore. Because sometimes he’d turn and nothing is there, other times he’d see a stranger’s weirded-out gaze, and others he’d be met with a back fading through a crowd of people.

 

Sometimes he thought he should just run away and disappear, just like they did. That if those silhouettes were real, he wouldn’t want them to get any nearer to him, but he soon realized that he is just filling himself up with more lies.

 

Because he wants it to be real. He wants to find him. To find them. He wants them to find him, so at the very least he gets an explanation of why, how all of this had happened, therefore he just leaves himself in plain sight. 

 

His pain was multiplied into 3, each one a struggle of their own. A pain that burns, a pain that lingers, and one that has him putting the barrel of his gun to his head in the middle of the night.

 

He was cautious of his colleagues when he transferred to Seoul from the violent crime unit to narcotics upon his own request, a weak attempt to try and chase a painful thread that just seized to exist the moment Taehyung was out of his sight.  

 

He realized so too late, however, because he was already here, in a new department in the capital, where his old colleague had little to no traces he could follow. 

 

It drove him close to insanity, and he found himself bringing his gun to his head again before a tiny feisty woman that looked in incredible need of someone to take care of her showed up in his department. 

 

Namjoon’s first impression of Jina was that she would be a pain in his ass. And she was, she is , but unlike his expectations, it is the kind of pain he receives with a smile, with welcoming arms.

 

So much anger in such a little body, he always told her.

 

She, too, was cautious of others when she first joined the division, but Namjoon soon understood that it was because she was never really given the chance to trust someone, let alone befriend them.

 

Her first few months were spent secretly tracing her father, collecting subtle information, and going on lonely stakeouts, but she didn’t know that Namjoon knew, and she didn’t know that she reminded Namjoon of himself a little too much. 

 

Except she’s smaller. And grumpier. Clumsier, too.

 

She was about to get herself killed one time when Namjoon had to butt in and confront her about what she was doing, and Jina being herself, tried fighting him back because “You don’t know shit about me. I can do this on my own.”

 

And it’s true, after finally accepting the help Namjoon had offered, he barely had to interfere or give her any additional knowledge before she was able to finally capture her father and put him in shackles. 

 

However, it took Jina years to finally admit that if Namjoon wasn’t there for emotional support, she would have never been able to actually look her father in the eye and call him out for all the shit he caused her and her family.

 

And just like that, she grew on him. She started feeling safer around him after helping her with the arrest, and she started leaving little trails of herself in his daily life, a reminder that she exists with him in the same space after a prolonged period of loneliness.

 

Although she never really let him, nor anyone put any effort in taking care of her, or even pushing her to attempt to take care of herself, the pair of them managed to find a common ground, where Namjoon nags and she listens if she’s not being too stubborn, and where Jina offers the comfort she can when Namjoon feels under the weather.

 

But within their developing attachment, grew fear. What’s so different about Jina, that makes him so sure that she would never do what they did? He was never sure, was always afraid, always taken back to the fresh memories, to the betrayal, to the pain everything caused, and the fact that he never wants to feel like this again.

 

But he does, now. And it hurts way more this time around.

 

His hand shook as he inspected their faces, over and over and over again just to make sure, just to make himself stop denying it, because within the picture in his hands lies so much more pain than he expected.

 

And yes, maybe he reacted too irrationally, never giving her a chance to explain herself, but what is expected of him, seeing Taehyung and Jeongguk looking down at her like that, familiarity lingering within the three? 

 

Betreyal. Betreyal. Betreyal. 

 

He isn’t certain about the reason why he never spoke a word, never told anyone about what he saw, how Park Jina is betraying her oath and friends, but he thinks that it is simply because it is Jina.

 

His Jina. Tiny, angry, clumsy Jina that hates the darkness and still calls choco milk her comfort drink. He realizes that she can kill him, stab him over and over again, and he would still hold her all the way through it because she must be doing so for a reason.

 

He knows she is getting associated with Jung Hoseok for a reason, and he knows Jina isn’t materialistic enough to be manipulated with money like many others were, but his pain is too torturous to let him see anything but the fact that Jina is just like them .

 

Just like what Taehyung once had been to him. 

 

What Seokjin said is true. He just manages to pick them, doesn’t he?

 

Seokjin’s brief visit, however, put him in a much bigger slump, where he can’t even do something about it if he wants to. Because, unlike Jina, the trust he once had in Seokjin is long, long gone, yet he is selfish enough to hang on to the fact that he really wouldn’t do anything to hurt him, even though he was never really sure of the nature of their past relationship.

 

So what other choices does he have, really?

Namjoon presses on the number he recently collected under gunpoint from his old partner, even though they both knew that Taehyung would’ve easily gotten out of it if didn’t want to. He sounds tired on the phone, Namjoon knows he must have been through some things in the past few hours, but the fact that he picked up the call altogether means that Jina succeeded in her little mission.

 

Namjoon asks to meet urgently, telling him he has some important things to drop by, and that he can’t do so somewhere public or in an apartment complex. Taehyung, as confused as ever but intrigued when Namjoon pushes, gives him the location of the warehouse they held their hostage, knowing well that Namjoon wouldn’t be dumb enough to bust them there after Seokjin’s blatant threat.

 

And maybe Taehyung should have warned the pair of each other’s presence. Just maybe. Because by the time he is by the door, Seokjin is already a few good feet outside, with Namjoon leaning on the hood of his car a few more feet away.

 

They seem to stare at each other for the longest time, one more collected than the other, although he doesn’t show so.

 

Seokjin stands with the blankest expression glued to his face and asks. “What are you doing here?”

 

“Delivery.” Replies Namjoon, and Taehyung reaches the oldest.

 

“What do you mean?” Taehyung lets his confusion show.

 

Seeing them stand side by side like that…

 

Namjoon gestures to his car with his head. “Look inside.”

 

And Taehyung does, fatigued body suddenly alert and careful as he opens the back seat, but out of all the things he thought would be in there, he didn’t think he’d find three bodies, gagged and tied, all cooped in the back seat. Taehyung snaps his head up to look at his old partner with wide eyes.

 

“There’s one more in the trunk.” He tells him, finally leaning off the car, giving Seokjin his back. And for a split second there, Taehyung swears he saw Seokjin’s face falter. “They all share some weird-ass tattoo. I haven’t seen it before.”

 

At the sentence, Seokjin joins Taehyung at the car, going for the trunk instead. It’s easily pulled open in his hand and the oldest barely waits for it to open the whole way before he leans in to check behind the man’s ears for a certain something, and he doesn’t let relief surge through him until Taehyung, too, finishes checking the other three to meet his gaze with a shake of his head.

 

“What are you doing?” It was Namjoon’s turn for confusion.

 

“What are you doing here, hyung?” Taehyung asks with an exhausted sigh, leaning a hand on the open car door. “Who are those people?”

 

Namjoon crosses his arms over his chest, and Seokjin notes just how muscular he has become, but the words leaving his lips leave the dawn air thin around them.

 

“They tried to rape Jina.” Namjoon begins, and he watches Taehyung’s eyes widen, while Seokjin remains as motionless as ever. “Before she comes to save your fucking asses, she was looking for Hoseok at some club and they followed her from there. I barely got there on time.” He avoids Seokjin’s gaze as much as possible. “I can’t trust anyone on the inside, and I don’t want them getting out of it so easily. This is the only thing I could think of. I want them to pay.”

 

Seokjin remains frozen, but the youngest of the trio is fumbling with his pocket. He shifts his gaze to him. “What are you doing?”

 

“Jimin,” Taehyung mumbles, already raising his phone to his ear and stepping away.

 

And he leaves the pair alone like that, bathing in the purple light of the silent dawn. The distance between them is long enough to hurt, both physical and emotional, even after all those years of hatred and blame, but Namjoon never lets it show. Instead, the detective finds the worry for his friend resurfacing, and he doesn’t really understand himself when he starts talking.

 

“Was she okay?” He asks, breaking the thick silence. “After she got you out?’

 

Seokjin observes him in silence for a few seconds. “No.”

 

He sees his ex-lover tense up, eyes sharpening. 

 

“Why didn’t you come instead, if she was in such a state?”

 

“You don’t trust me as much as you trust her. It would’ve been a mess if it was me that showed up.”

 

“Who the fuck said I trust her?”

 

“Maybe not you,” Namjoon shrugs. “But she’s more trusted to your boss than I’ll ever be.”

Hoseok feels like he has been asleep for ages. Everything is silent and still, and it feels incredibly warm.

 

Every time he accidentally wakes as he turns in his sleep, there are arms tossed messily around him. There’s a moan of protest as he moves out of them, and warmth spreads through his entire being when he sees Jina’s messy hair through the sleepy crack of his eyes. He moves in a more comfortable position, pulls her in once more, and the pair falls right back into a sweet slumber.

 

He can get used to this. They both can. It would be one of the few little blessings in a life full of cruel curses.

 

The next time he is pulled out of sleep it’s by a buzzing phone, and it gives him a slight Deja Vu even through his sleepiness. He moves out of Jina’s grasp who, thankfully, doesn’t wake up or moan in protest this time around, and he pulls his buzzing phone out of the charger. He puts it to his ears, never bothering to check the caller ID.

 

“‘Ello?”

 

“Hoseokie-Hyung,” It’s Taehyung.

 

“Mmm?” The older hums sleepily, sitting up from the bed as carefully as he can. “Can you wait for a second?” He mumbles, and he takes the other’s silence as an answer as he buys himself enough time to move out of the room so he can speak freely. Once he pulls the door behind him closed with an almost silent click, he speaks. “Go ahead. What time is it, anyways?”

 

“It’s ten.”

 

“Damn, did you get any sleep?”

 

“No. I sent Jeongguk home instead, we’ll be taking shifts.”

 

“It’s just one guy, don’t make him a big deal.” Hoseok pushes down the knob of the bathroom in his hallway. “You were pretty beaten up too. You gotta–”

 

“Hyung, is Jina okay?” Taehyung interrupts him, and almost on cue, Hoseok is faced with a pile of the clothes the woman wore the day before pushed up to a corner. 

 

Hoseok’s eyebrows furrow. He answers hesitantly. “I wouldn’t say so. Why?”

 

The closer he gets to the clothes the clearer he sees what lies within, and he doesn’t exactly like what he’s seeing. He crouches down, one hand reaching for a piece of torn material.

 

“Namjoon… Kim Namjoon contacted me around dawn and brought us four beaten-up men to the warehouse and… fuck, how does someone say this?”

 

Hoseok’s whole body stills, unblinking as he stares at the torn clothes in his hand. A thousand different scenarios chase each other in his brain, and they all make him feel like he’s gonna be sick. 

 

“Cut the chase, Kim Taehyung.”

 

“Jina… She was looking for you at the club and some gangsters recognized her and… she was on her way to us–”

 

“Taehyung.”

 

“They tried to rape her, hyung.”

 

And it all suddenly makes sense. 

 

“Namjoon said she fought them herself, she barely needed any help on his arrival but the damage was already done.”

 

She kept flinching when he tried to touch her last night in the car. Suddenly, every look, every tear, every choked sob, they all make so much sense.

 

Hell, he doesn’t even know how to react to this.

 

Hoseok’s stomach turns in a split second upon Taehyung’s affirmation of his undesired predictions, and his eyes stay plastered to Jina’s clothes. Her creme-colored wool sweater is torn roughly right at the middle, the undershirt beside it only torn halfway. They’re dirty and somehow still damp from all the rain, and Hoseok truly feels like he’s gonna be sick.

 

He stays quiet for some time, the other end of the call falling just as silent in anticipation of the reaction that Taehyung knows he will be getting soon. “They recognized her?”

 

“One of them said they thought she worked in the brothel.” Taehyung elaborates. It only adds more fuel to the fire slowly but surely surging through his veins and all the way to his head, flames and smoke blinding his vision, and cackles rendering him almost deaf. “You two were seen together when you took her home that time. They thought she was… your new… you know.”

 

“Whore? They thought she was a whore because she was seen leaving with me from a nightclub?” Hoseok scoffs, face almost breaking in a laugh of disbelief. He lets go of the clothes and stands to his feet, unable to look at the pile any longer. 

 

It looks like it’s taunting him, blaming him.

 

He runs a hand down his face and bites down on his lower lip. Hard. “Did they… did something actually happen?”

 

“They aren’t speaking.” Taehyung answers cautiously. “They keep blaming one another, but from what I gathered, only one of them was actively trying to… do something. Two others were holding her down, and the fourth was passed out.”

 

The words leaving Taehyung’s mouth only managed to paint the ugliest of pictures in his head. Something in him

bubbles and raises, but he is soon tilting his head to the side as if in physical pain when his brain brings him to her. 

 

Jina is a tough cookie, but shit like that, this can get to everyone. The fear, the disgust, the list of the things the woman must have been through in a span of a few minutes let alone the rest of the day is too crippling for him to even think about. 

 

Oh, how he wishes he would’ve known earlier. He would’ve held her a little tighter, repeating an apology after the other because damn it, it’s his fault. It’s all because of him. Every crack of skin, every flinch, every tear she spilled the night before, he was the base of it all.

 

He suddenly felt undeserving of her little touches, of the privilege of feeling her lips against his, and wondered if he should have kept more distance between them the night before, if she felt uncomfortable because of him, but it was all her yesterday.

 

She came to him , she kissed him . As overwhelming the content he felt from it all only minutes before, it took a sharp turn in the opposite direction.

 

Taehyung calls his name after a few beats too much of silence, and Hoseok only replies with one sentence.

 

“I’ll be right there.”

 

The man splashes his face with cold water in an attempt to cool down the flames,  but as he closes his eyes when he does so, the forged image climbs back up in the empty canvas of his eyelids, and it ignites it all back up again.

 

Filthy hands touching and groping. God, he feels bile threaten to actually raise up his throat.

 

His breath is a little messy as he exits the bathroom and hurries back to his room, and seeing her now, it just drowns him in oceans of guilt and flames.

 

The primal instinct is to stay right there and hold her in his arms where he knows she will meet no harm. To stay and take care of every unspoken need, to read through her and understand her ticks and triggers, to allow her to cry, to wail, to even scream at him if she wills. He will take it all. 

 

Because Jina looks so delicate like this, sleeping soundly in his bed with covers tousled around her, her hair a mess on her face. She looks calm, breaths steady and silent, and Hoseok makes a mental note to finish what he has to do quickly so he can fulfill every instinct that nudges at him to the point of ache.

 

Hoseok doesn’t go near the bed. He turns to the closet and pulls out whatever he finds, keeping the noise to a minimum so Jina isn’t pulled out of her slumber. Makes sure he has his wallet and car key, but now as he moves towards the door, he can’t help but be pulled back. 

 

He can wake her this way, he warns himself. He should keep his distance for now. He should. 

 

She stirs in her sleep, hand stretching out to where Hoseok previously laid, and he can pinpoint the exact moment panic surges through her when she finds the mattress empty.

 

Her eyes are wide when she slightly raises her head from the pillow and looks around the room, easily spotting him mere moments later as he stands by the foot of the bed. 

 

Jina regards him in silence for a few seconds. “You’re heading out?” Her voice is just above a whisper, meant just for him.

 

Hoseok nods, all attempts of trying to keep his distance damned to hell. He moves to her side of the bed, watches as she turns under the covers to face him, soon pulling herself up in a groggy sitting position as he sits himself down by her side. 

 

“I have some work to do,” Hoseok tells her, watching hopeful eyes stare back at him. He hesitates when he pulls a hand up to place it on her shoulder, attempting to massage away the newly found tension in there. He almost chuckles at her reaction, eyes finding sleepiness again. “I’ll do my best to be quick. Don’t go to work today.”

 

“It’s my day off,” She tells him and looks down to where he planted a hand on the other side of her thighs, caging her legs. She reaches out a hand and wraps her fingers around his longer digits, looking back up at him with a look that almost breaks him. “Do you really have to go?”

 

He feels so undeserving.

 

“I’m sorry.” He means it in all ways possible. “You can go back to sleep. I didn’t mean to wake you.” He moves his hand to the side of her neck, thumb grazing her jawline. “Would that be okay? To stay alone for some time?”

 

His genuine concern made something glitch in Jina’s chest. Their newly found habit of touchiness is sending her stance to doom, and she just wants to reach out and kiss him again, but she doesn’t wanna seem too needy. She settles for her fingers tangled with his. 

 

“I’ll sleep it off,” She nods, eyes already weighing a ton.

 

Hoseok nods back, stealing a few more seconds to drink in her features while she only does the same. He begins to raise, and he surprises them both when he bends down to plant a lingering kiss to her forehead.

 

“I’ll be right back.”

The drive to the familiar location was a haze, a blur of cars and headlights and bystanders. He tried to stay within the safe speed range but his fists shake with rage, knuckles turning a pale white on the leather material of the steering wheel. He doesn’t bother turning on the radio, his brain already preoccupied. 

 

When he pulls up outside the open gates of the warehouse, he does it with a screech. He counts one, two, three, four, five cars on his exit of his own. There is an additional, unfamiliar car parked outside than the ones he knows, and he already knows who it belongs to.

 

The sound of fist meeting bone reaches his ears before he sees it. He feels eyes on him when he enters through the open doors, but a couple of gazes stay planted to the figure pulling his fist back.

 

 Said figure immediately grasps Hoseok’s attention. Recognition is triggered, and his heart sinks. His steps slow down to a halt. His head turns, looking for a specific pair of eyes, but they weren’t looking back at him.

 

Yoongi’s eyes are frozen, dark, emotionless as Jimin’s heaved pants echo within the empty walls. Fist meets bone again, followed by the sound of blood dripping to the dusty ground.

 

When Hoseok looks back, Jimin is sniffling, dropping the body in his hands to the floor with a thud, then their gazes meet.  Jimin looks at Hoseok, lips apart as he inhales, raising a bloody fist to push his hair out of his eyes. 

 

“We need to kill them, hyung.” Says the younger, tone dead.

 

Hoseok’s eyes start to wander, first traveling down to the man at Jimin’s feet, coughing out blood helplessly. His swollen eyes meet Hoseok’s as if to ask for help, but Hoseok can pinpoint the exact moment recognition falls upon him, and all hope is lost from his body.

 

There are three other men, all gagged and tied to wooden chairs, and then Hoseok only notices the broken chair behind the man on the ground. 

 

And he feels so many emotions all at once, overwhelming him to the brim, rendering him completely motionless. 

 

Now that Jimin has spoken to him, all eyes fall on him. He looks back to Yoongi once more, looking for something specific in his eyes.

 

And he sees it. Yoongi doesn’t move, doesn’t blink, he simply waits.

 

It’s Hoseok’s call. 

 

“We will,” Hoseok finally speaks, his throat on fire. His fist trembles as he shakes his coat off his shoulders, eyeing the men that start to whimper in pure fear. And he likes it. He holds the coat to the side, and someone soon enough is grabbing it from him. “Lemme do something, though.”

 

Hoseok gestures for Jimin to step back, and the younger man surely obeys. He does so with one last kick to the body at his feet, but is soon by Hoseok’s side before Hoseok himself starts to advance forwards. 

 

“Jeongguk,” He calls, briefly looking to his left. “Take off their gags.”

 

Sharp footsteps echo before the youngest comes in view, obeying with harshness in his tugs and a look of pure disgust on his face. Hoseok watches Jeongguk’s back, and instead of the constant movement of his fingers, his hand reaches behind his back, fingers latching on cold metal.

 

Their eyes seem to widen at the sight of a gun in his hand as Jeongguk finally steps back, leaving the playground for Hoseok to play. Some nonsense is babbled, a choked whimper, a wet cough, everything mixes together, and Hoseok can only hear the rush of blood in his ears. 

 

He closes his eyes and pulls the safety off. Something surges through him, like a shiver, like electricity, and his head twitches to the side involuntary. 

 

With a deep inhale, Hoseok tries his best to keep his index finger away from the trigger. 

 

He steps towards them, eyes opened, finding his first target. “Which one of you boys will be telling me what went down?”

 

His target shakes his head. It seems that his nose is crooked and swollen, and Hoseok wonders if this is Jina’s doing. He shakes his head again when Hoseok approaches him more, eyes wide, full of fear. Full of panic.

 

And he deserves every. Fucking. Ounce of it.

 

They all fucking do.

 

When Hoseok presses the barrel of his gun to his dirty forehead, the man starts sobbing.

 

“Please, sir! I didn’t do anything!” He cries.

 

With a firm hand, Hoseok seizes his jaw. “Lying right to my face now, you fucking coward, aren’t you?” He pushes the barrel harder, and the other tries to lean away, sobs getting louder. Hoseok covers his mouth, the volume irritating, and he hushes him. 

 

The man tries to thrash against him at first, thinking he might choke him, but he begins to wind down when he hears Hoseok’s shushes. Eyes widening further, Hoseok stares right into his soul when he speaks again.

 

“I know you already spilled everything.” Hoseok is smiling. He nods at him, and the look in the man’s eyes seems to worsen. Hoseok firmly tightens his grip on the man’s face. “Now I need the four of you to sing it back to me. Is that so hard?”

 

The man sobs beneath him.

 

So he screams. “IS THAT SO HARD?”

 

The man shakes his head hysterically, squeezing his eyes shut, and Hoseok hears the others whine and whimper along with their friend, unable to verbalize anything.

 

“Good,” He gives his face a little slap as he nods and steps back, putting enough distance between them so he can see them all at the same time. He cocks his gun when he settles for a good spot, tilting his head to the side as his eyes go over the four of them once more. 

 

“Let’s play a little game then.”

 

He feels all eyes on him, but his mind is only set on the filth spiraled out in front of him amongst blood and dust. He moves his gun to the next man, then the next, and begins to speak again.

 

“You’ll talk when I point my gun at you,” Hoseok moves to the next person, demonstrating. “If you say something that pisses me off, or if you stay quiet, you’ll get shot. And if you know anything about me, you’ll know I like taking my time, so I won't be shooting to kill for a long, long time.”

 

“We didn’t mean for—“

 

With a flick of his wrist, Hoseok fires the first shot between the feet of the man to the far right. Shrikes of surprise erupt, and the now silent man stares at him with eyes so wide, they could fall out of their sockets. 

 

“No talking without permission,” Hoseok says.

 

The man nods, scarcely so, and it falls quiet again.

 

He aims at the one on the far left. “Go ahead.”

 

“Wuh-we were p-passing by and…and” He looks down to their friend that lies on the ground. “He recognized her —“

 

“Recognized her as what, exactly?”

 

The man winces, tilting his head to the side as if in pain. “We saw her leaving with you once s-uh we just…we thought she—“

 

“She was a whore,” Hoseok steps closer. There’s a ringing in his ear. The words taste like poison on his lips. “You thought she was a whore.”

 

The man squeezes his eyes shut, bracing himself, except that he realizes soon enough how useless his effort has been when nothing happens for some seconds. It’s quiet if not  for the ragged breathing of his companions, so he peeks an eye open to find the barrel of Hoseok’s gun still staring down at him.

 

“And…And she’s pretty, sir. And we’re… Men. We thought we could—“

 

BAM!

 

The shot makes Hoseok’s ear ring even more, but he hears the splatter of blood on the floor as the bullet escapes the other side of the man’s bicep. He screams out, thrashing against his restraints, and Hoseok moves to his next target. 

 

The man on the floor coughs again, and his eyes widen. He tries to sit up and fails, tries to move out of Hoseok’s sight, but his effort is miserably rendered useless. 

 

“Chop chop.” Hoseok pushes.

 

Then, the slightly younger man stutters and stammers, going over and over again over the fact that it wasn’t his idea, to begin with. He blamed the man sitting next to him, all wide eyes and blood drooling down his cheek in his lying position.  Hoseok spares the other a glance, and it is safe to say that he looks seconds away from wetting himself. Between heaves and coughs and muttered curses, he goes on, spilling as many words as he was blood.  

 

About how he pulled them with him, about how he said it was going to be quick. That Jina is small, what’s the worst she can do?

 

The other cuts him off with a laugh and a mumbled curse, to which Hoseok replies with a bullet to the thigh. A scream echoes and Hoseok sees the shock of the shot surge through his body. He watches as the bastard chokes and cries and fidgets helplessly, trying to claw at his fresh wound for any sort of comfort that Hoseok keeps very, very far away.

 

A minute passes, and Hoseok remains stoic, sharp eyes watching closely. He drinks in the pain, satisfaction filling his being every time a drop of their blood meets the ground beneath them, every time a scream sounds. His eyes are surely blind to anything but the painted picture behind his lids that just leaves him craving more bloodshed.

 

“I didn’t give you permission to speak.” Hoseok finally says, when his cries of pain have died down.

 

“Fuck you,” The man spits, face red, so red, it might burst. “You think yourself to be high and mighty when you’re just as cheap as the dolls you fuck.”

 

Hoseok remains stoic, remains silent with his gun pointed at the panting man. He wants to hear more.

 

“You wanna know what happened? Huh?” He leans forwards, a challenging gaze lingering in his eyes, hiding something behind it. “We chased her. She ran like a little kitty and tried to hide in the dark and we still fucking got her even after she put up a fight.” A little smirk grazes his lips. “She’s a feisty one, isn’t she?”

 

Hoseok hears footsteps from behind him.

 

“Kept spitting and cussing. We were going to fuck her dead, y’know?”

 

Jimin restrains himself to only settle by his boss, eyes fixated on the bloody fucker. He, too heaves, Hoseok sees so through the corner of his vision, but he pays his presence next to him no other mind as long as he stays where he is.

 

Because he isn’t going to touch this man for now. He’s gonna keep him like this, flailing and in pain from the throbbing ache in his thigh. For now.  

 

So, he turns his gun to the remaining one, and the previous one does exactly what Hoseok thought he would do. He goes on. He speaks, louder than before, and the one down Hoseok’s barrel is shaking shitless. His eyes are wide with a profound fear of what Hoseok can do to him at any given moment, while his companion keeps trying to get his attention.

 

He calls Jina names. He spits at Jimin, wondering aloud what the fuck is he so worked up for, that she’s just another bitch on the sidewalk waiting to be filled. Hoseok urges the one in front of him to speak, and he tries, but the other just keeps getting louder, voice coming out in desperate yells as he describes how she felt under his fingers, how she looked all soaked from the rain and exposed in front of him, what he and his boys would’ve done to her if her big strong savior didn’t come for her rescue.

 

And god only knows how much Hoseok is holding himself back from shutting him up. His hands tighten around the firearm, that’s as much as he can show, as much as he can let out for eyes to see so he doesn’t explode. 

 

He tries to keep Jina’s image out of his mind, but doing so only pushes it upfront even more. Something twists and turns in his stomach, his chest tightens, and he is so fucking ready to pull the trigger.

 

But not yet. Not now.

 

“No!” The one in front of him screams out, shaking his head at Hoseok. He tries to get on his good side, selling out his friend, unbeknownst to Hoseok’s future intentions. “She got out on her own, sir! She was strong! She beat us all, sir! All four of us!”

 

“Fucking pussy,” His friend spits.

 

“Do you want another hole in you?!” Jimin yells, taking a threatening step forwards with an angry index pointing out. 

 

When he is met with silence, the man’s face twitching for mere moments, Jimin gets his answer. 

 

He does. He’s trying to make Hoseok kill him. Jimin looks at Hoseok, finally understanding why he was letting him babble. 

 

“Go on,” Hoseok encourages the man in front of him, but the other doesn’t shut up. He keeps mumbling. Hoseok tunes both of them out, having heard enough, finally finding some peace in the ruthless ringing in his ear. 

 

He doesn’t hear the sound of his gun going off, cutting the man off mid-talk. He doesn’t give himself time to regard the fresh hole on his forehead before he turns, seeing the men’s faces scrunched up with dread and desperation before a bullet is fired, one of the voices die down, and another, the warehouse falls silent, but Hoseok still doesn’t hear any of it. 

 

When Hoseok eventually turns to the remaining man, he is greeted with closed eyes and a welcoming expression, waiting for his turn to finally come.

 

Instead of a killing bullet, he receives a fist to the face that sends him tumbling back to the ground. The wooden chair breaks at the impact and Hoseok is quick to climb on top of him, finally unleashing himself, giving himself the permission to let go, only to an extent. 

 

So he punches, punches, punches until his face is even more unrecognizable than it already was, thanks to Jina,  and he stands up when his knuckles sting a little too much. An ear-piercing scream echoes when Hoseok slams a foot down to the fresh wound on his thigh, Hoseok gets to hear that. He also hears it cut off when he kicks him, ruthless, merciless feet breaking a bone after the other, and no one dares to stop him.

 

He almost gets a little too carried away, but someone finally holds him back by the waist when he bends down to punch him again, and he is being pulled away by strong arms moments later. It’s Jimin, he faintly hears him calling his name. He fights against him, red-hot anger blinding his vision the more his fists meet bone, and he finds more arms pulling him back until he was no longer able to fight back, outnumbered

 

He is pushed against a metal table, its edge digs in his skin. Multiple hands stay on him, not trusting enough to let go just yet, especially since he refuses to look anywhere but the bloodied figure spiraled on the ground only feet away from them. He is heaving, his chest is closing up, and more cursed images fuel up the fire eating away at his body. 

 

Her, pinned against a wall. Scared, cold, alone, but pushing nonetheless. Clothes ripped apart, hands, filthy hands touching her skin, then the look she had on her face all the way home. 

 

Blank eyes pour into his soul. It’s driving him insane.

 

It’s because of him. It’s all because of him.

 

Someone goes to check the man’s pulse, it’s Seokjin. He crouches down, blocking Hoseok’s view from his face, finally breaking him out of his trance. Hoseok’s gaze trails up to the back of Seokjin’s head instead, watching as he turns around, opening his mouth to speak.

 

“He’s alive.” He affirms.

 

Yoongi’s slightly worried gaze comes to view when he comes to stand in front of him, but Hoseok knows well that more lies behind. He loosens his grip on the different arms he was trying to push away and his body visibly relaxes, encouraging the others to gradually step back from him.

 

Hoseok turns to Jimin. “Keep him alive for as long as possible. Do whatever the fuck you want to do with him then throw him in some ditch. Tell him to tell his fucking boss that I'm coming for his head too if he survives, you hear? I want him in pain. I want him to feel every fucking thing, and if he survives, I’m gonna make him go through it all over again.”

 

Jimin nods firmly, and Hoseok shakes away the remaining hands on him. He fixes the uncomfortable position of his gun in the back of his pants and turns around, greeted by yet another sight that manages to keep his blood boiling, only at a lesser intensity.

 

Namjoon is leaning back on a wall with his arms crossed over his chest. He slightly arches an eyebrow when their gazes meet. Hoseok fixes his overcoat on his shoulders and walks towards the door that is a couple of feet to Namjoon’s left, but unlike any other time, there is a common belief between the two. 

 

After all, he’s the one that brought them right at Hoseok’s feet. He doesn’t know what this is, doesn’t know how to name it, a pledge of loyalty, or maybe a test, just to see how he was going to react, though he appreciates it nonetheless.

 

But he needs to understand where Namjoon stands. Mixed signals will only complicate things.

 

“Arrange a meeting. Tomorrow, 6 pm.” He turns around at the door. Shit, his knuckles are busted badly. He looks at Namjoon. “I want you there.”

 

A few beats of silence follow before Seokjin speaks. “This isn’t a very good idea.”

 

Hoseok meets the oldest’s gaze. “I said what I said. I want him there.” He turns to Namjoon again. “If I don’t find you there, I’m gonna find you wherever you will be, except I won’t be so friendly then.”

 

“That’s not gonna be the reason I come,” Namjoon fires back, calm as ever as he stays in his position. “You won’t find me if I don’t wanna be found.”

 

Hoseok bites down on his tongue so he doesn’t lose it once again. He turns around, taking a few steps out of the walls of the warehouse before Yoongi calls out for him with a heavy sigh. 

 

“Where are you going, Hoseok?”

 

“Back to Jina.”

Chapter 20: venti

Summary:

Jina recognizes a pained gaze in his eyes.

And he still tries. “Are you sure?”

She was never so sure about something in her entire life. “Yes.”

Notes:

HELLOOOO!!!
this chapter is basically just smut with very little plot but it is definitely well earned.
oooo im so excited for the reviews on this one
you can skip the smut if u want to and just read the first few pages!!

i am so so very sorry again for my late updates:( feels like ive always been sorry for this huh
i changed my username to ackermoon!! this one feels nice🥰

i have no idea when the next chapter will be, but it hopefully wont take me three months this time disowokfowf i guess we’ll see!!
Hopefully i update again within the next 20 days or sumn

your comments and kudos genuinely make my day wven tho im a piece of shit that barely keeps up with the replies, but you always make my little heart a little brighter with eveey comment!! tysm if you do<3 your feedback is always welcome!

SEE YOU GUYS SSOOOONNN<3

She thought it was a stupid idea at first, but with the view spiraled out in front of her, maybe Hoseok was right to have glass for walls in almost half of the penthouse. 

 

It’s cold, but it feels nice against Jina’s skin. She lost count of just how long she had been standing there, leaning on the railing of the balcony with a cup of coffee abandoned on the table behind her, the colors of the sky too pretty for any other thought to try to creep in her mind.

 

Pinks and oranges and purples, they all tangle together like a meteor shower. It was sunny all day too, maybe that’s the universe’s way of giving her a break, and she gladly takes it. She allows herself to breathe a little easier, everything that is wrong in life temporarily locked in a box to the corner of her mind.

 

She will have to face them again like she did the night before on Hoseok’s bed, but the sunset remains too pretty. The breeze is gentle, and the feeling of waiting for someone to come back home to her is more comforting than she thought.

 

There are still little reminders of it all, her bruised knuckles, the irritation in the skin across her stomach from all her efforts of trying to wash away the feeling of hands on her, the fatigue haunting her muscles, but she has to allow herself just a little bit of peace. She has to.

 

Namjoon used to tell her she will only drive herself insane like this. Taking on one battle after the other, not letting her brain, nor heart rest, aching to solve one problem then fight the other, she is only accelerating herself to her utmost doom.

 

Maybe it’s time to take his advice, she thinks. She doesn’t know whether it is by force or will, that her body cannot physically deal with any burdening thought in her miserable state, cannot allow her to feel anything, good or bad.

 

She is calm now, staring out at the warmly painted skies, but does she really feel anything at all, or is it that she is feeling it all at once, that her brain just decided to shut off?

 

Or maybe it’s the lack of goodness, lack of positive emotions in her bones that is making her so dull?

 

She wishes she could understand. She was never given the capacity to understand.

 

A distant series of beeps echo in the apartment, traveling all the way to meet her ears in a hushed tone that still managed to catch her attention. Jina stays still, eyes blankly scanning the view in front of her, somehow knowing well that he will find her wherever she is.

 

The click of the closing door, the shuffling of Hoseok kicking off his shoes, the nearing footsteps, she hears them all, and she waits.

 

And the moment he spots her, Hoseok has to take a few seconds to take in the view in front of him. 

 

He half expected to find the apartment empty, void of any traces that Jina was present, but there she is. Standing in the balcony with the setting sun making her hair look a warmer shade of brown, her smaller body wrapped perfectly in his clothes, waiting for his return.

 

And Hoseok had almost forgotten how it feels to have someone waiting for him to come back home, to have someone to go back home to. 

 

With calculated steps, he advances to his only destination. He knows that she is aware of his presence, but Jina never turns back to greet him, to scowl at him, to taunt him. She waits, head facing forwards as she leans her elbows on the railing, body tilted forwards.

 

God, he doesn’t know what to do. Does he go to stand by her side? Would she not like it if he touches her? Would she sigh the way she does if he holds her in his arms again? Would he be able to take even just a little bit of her overwhelming pain away?

 

When his hands gently wrap around her middle from behind, Jina straightens her posture, immediately leaning back into him, and she sighs so faintly, but it reaches Hoseok’s heart nevertheless. Hoseok leans his forehead against the back of her head, eyes fluttering closed as the scent of his shampoo lingering in her soft strands travel through his nose, igniting something else in him. 

 

Jina looks down at his hands at her abdomen, and she is met with bloody, busted, bruised knuckles of subtly trembling hands that pull her in a tighter hold, like she would fade out if he loosens it even a bit. Her fingertips, leaving the railing, trail his fingers in a feather light touch, and she feels the shuddered breath meet her nape when she touches the severed skin.

 

And she knows that he knows. The way he is holding her speaks volumes, and she is helpless to it all.

 

“What happened?” She whispers, one hand seizing one of his, thumb caressing just below the sensitive skin.

 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” His voice is deep and low, yet gentle, careful. His chest and hers fall in a perfect rhythm.

 

She knows how he bruised his knuckles. She can almost see it. 

 

“Did you kill them?” Jina asks.

 

If Hoseok is stunned by her sudden inquiry, he doesn’t show. He only holds her tighter. His head dips just a bit, and he lets his temple lean on hers.

 

“I only left one.” He tells her, and the woman still shows no reaction. “Threw him somewhere far. Told him to warn his boss if he makes it out alive.”

 

She stays quiet, staring out at the setting sun, the sky turning purple. Hoseok thinks that this is it, but after a few seconds of silence, Jina lets out. “Good.”

 

Something in her response somehow worries Hoseok. Maybe it was the way she said it, so quiet and emotionless, or the fact that this is her reaction. He doesn’t know. He can’t concentrate enough to analyze anything, all that is in him only focusing on her.

 

He looks at her, finally, and catches the look on her face as she looks out onto the world. It is similar to the one he saw on her only the night before, but with the setting sun shadowing her face, her eyes seem calmer. They are a bit droopy, relaxed, streaks of warmth painting the color in her irises, and it looks magical from where he is looking at her.

 

“I couldn’t tell you.” Jina says. “There was no time for me to even process anything.” She pauses, looking down at his hands again, and he feels her fingers trace his knuckles again. “How do you even tell someone about something like this?”

 

Hoseok holds his breath, choked again with guilt and shame. A lump makes its way to his throat, and he is rendered speechless because she is right. 

 

And it’s his fault. It’s all his fault. 

 

“It’s not your fault.”

 

One of Jina’s hands climbs up to hold his cheek, and she finally faces him.

 

The look on his face breaks her heart. She never saw him looking at her like this before, like a vile dropping, revealing everything he feels with no filters for the first time. He is breathless, frozen, taut as a bowstring, with eyes filled to the brim with the guilt he has always felt, but is finally showing.

 

He swallows, his adam’s apple makes a sharp appearance against his slender throat. He tries to look away, but Jina’s hand is firm to bring his gaze back to her.

 

“It’s not your fault. It’s not like you were the one that told them to do what they did.”

 

None of this would’ve happened if you didn’t drag her into this.

 

“I’m so sorry.” Just above a whisper, but it reached Jina in full volume. He leans his forehead against hers and closes his eyes, unable to look into them any longer. “God, Jina. I’m so fucking sorry. None of this would’ve happened—“

 

The hand on his cheek pulls him closer, and before he knows it, sweet lips overtake his. They’re incredibly soft, moving so perfectly against his, and he can taste the faint coffee remaining on them when he kisses her back.

 

Jina turns in his arms to face him, slowly so, her other hand abandoning his hand to replace itself flat on his chest, and Hoseok is gentle. He processes slowly, involuntarily pulling her closer, and Jina sighs in the kiss.

 

It feels nice. It has always felt nice with Hoseok. Every lingering touch, every kiss, it almost never failed to make her stomach flutter. Never failed to make her feel something.

 

So she lets her tongue dance with his, and they slowly but surely devour one another, unmissable hunger growing by the second, being unleashed from the back of their minds.  

 

She starts to heave, barely pulling back for air, and Hoseok has to force their lips apart in a painfully short distance, that if one of them moves even an inch forwards, their lips will brush against one another. The thumb previously caressing her cheek travels to her bottom lip, and they’re leaning their foreheads against each other again.

 

“Jina—“

 

“Please,” She trembles, and the hazy cloud that cast itself upon Hoseok’s vision clears just enough to see the tears brimming in Jina’s eyes. He pulls away to take a good look at her, and she looks up at him with a look so vulnerable that he feels his heart shatter. 

 

But this isn’t right. They shouldn’t. Not now.

 

Hoseok brushes his thumb across her lip, and Jina leans in his hand. “We shouldn’t—“

 

“Please,” Her grip on his wrist tightens, and so does the one on his chest. She tilts her head up, trying to close the distance between them again, and the words just spill out uncontrollably. “Please. I need you.”

 

And if he had any strength a moment ago, it all fades right out of him at the three simple words. 

 

I need you.

 

Jina recognizes a pained gaze in his eyes.

 

And he still tries. “Are you sure?”

 

She was never so sure about something in her entire life. “Yes.”

 

He still eyes her carefully, because this is wrong, she is in no state. Her eyes are glossy and sad, so incredibly sad, but her grip on him doesn’t have an ounce of hesitation. It’s firm and desperate, and he can no longer resist the pull.

 

It’s obvious that they both want this. They wanted this for a while now, and if Hoseok can take the pain away, if he has the ability to make the woman in his arms feel good, he isn’t going to miss the chance.

 

“Please.”

 

Hoseok nods, gaze falling lustfully to her lips, and he almost swoons. With the hand on her cheek, he tilts her head further up, pulling himself closer. “Okay.”

 

Jina is fast to try to reunite their lips again, but Hoseok moves his lips away, He kisses the scar on the corner of her mouth, and brushes his lips against severed skin as he speaks.

 

“We’ll take it slow.”

 

Jina whimpers in protest.

 

“We’ll take it slow,” He kisses her jaw, then where her jaw and neck connect. “I’ll make you feel good, okay? Just relax.”

 

She obeys almost immediately, tilting her head to the side to give him more skin to devour. The grip on his wrist loosens, and Jina feels nice like this. Warm with the setting sun and Hoseok’s lips on her, whispering sweet nothing against her skin, words only meant for her. 

 

“I’ll take care of you,” Hoseok kisses up to her mouth again, and he stops there to affirm the words again as he stares into her gaze. “I’ll take care of you.”

 

Jina nods, allowing this in a haze, no defensiveness, oblivious of what a simple nod can bring her in the near future. 

 

She’s warm, content like this, with the dying sun on her, engulfed in strong arms with nothing but the little sparks from lips meeting skin spiking up her nerves. He reaches somewhere that tickles, Jina tries to lean away reflexively but Hoseok doesn’t let her. He kisses, bites, licks until her body stops the involuntary protest and she moans, and it’s like music to his ears.

 

Her moan is low and shaky, but this is probably the first time he hears her openly moan, and he needs a few seconds to realize that he would do anything to hear her little whiny noises again. 

 

With each heavy breath, each noise coming from the back of her throat, Hoseok remembers that he had never had enough of her. All the little touches were never enough, and he is becoming a greedy man when it comes to her.

 

He wants to feel all of her. Wants to leave open-mouthed kisses and marks on every available patch of skin.

 

Wants to devour her whole.

 

When he slips a hand under her sweater, Jina gasps at the opposition of freezing hands and burning skin as he runs his hand gently over the area she tried to scrub clean only hours before. Hoseok’s eyebrows furrow at the feeling of rough skin under his fingers. He lets her neck have some peace as he stands up to full height again, looking down at a dazed Jina that, by now, looks too lustful for her own good.

 

“I’d gladly bend you over here, but we don’t have enough space to do the things I want us to do,” He licks his lips, his other hand trailing up her body to finally settle at the base of her neck. Jina’s eyes are no longer glossy with tears, they hold a purpose. A goal. Hooded yet sharp, like those of a siren, Jina’s eyes stare right into his soul. “Bed or couch?”

 

“What do you want us to do?” Jina purrs. He never heard her talk in this tone before.

 

“Bed or couch?” He repeats.

 

“Bed,” There’s a pull at the corner of her lip.

 

However, it doesn’t last very long since Hoseok sweeps her off her feet and into his arms. He walks them inside, carelessly leaving the balcony door open while Jina tries to make herself lighter in his arms because: “Stop acting like your wound is fully healed you fucking moron.”

 

He rolls his eyes at the sentence, and he has to fight the urge to smother the wrinkles between her eyebrows as she looks up at him with a pout that he kisses away. He smoothly moves through the apartment until he passes through the doorframe to his bedroom, then Jina jumps out of his arms and pulls them both towards the bed. 

 

She walks backward, keeping Hoseok’s mouth close enough to kiss but never closing the distance until she feels the frame of the bed hit the back of her knees. Pulling him down by his jacket, they fall in a similar position from their previous silly little makeout sesh, except that they are much, much needier this time.

 

Jina is still trying to move fast, lips capturing his hungrily, hands traveling to his belt in a failed attempt to unbuckle it, but a simple grip on her wrists halt her movement. She bites his lip and Hoseok frowns, trailing her arms up to pin them above her head.

 

“Don’t make me tie them,” Hoseok growls, embarrassingly losing his stance too quickly when he gives into the glossy, swollen lips waiting to be devoured.

 

He pulls them to the middle of the bed with one hand around her back, the other keeping her hands above her head. He kisses her slowly, forcing her to slow down, and she doesn’t exactly hate the pace. Makes her senses intensify, makes her wanna grind down on the thigh between her own, but she wants it fast.

 

She wants it hard. She wants it to hurt and burn, but Hoseok is making this very, very difficult.

 

Jina moans when he returns to the sensitive patches of skin on her neck, and she wonders how pretty the red and purple bruises will look on her skin, making a mental note to take a good look at them in the mirror later. 

 

The way he is touching her drives her closer and closer to insanity. She knows it’s because she hasn’t been touched in this way in so long, but something about the firm grip on her wrists above her head and the way he starts to explore the skin under her– his – sweater makes her moan. It’s all painfully slow, forcing her to grow needier, how he rides the sweater up to her abdomen, and Jina shivers at the loss of the layer of clothing.

 

Hoseok gently moves his hand to the patch of rough skin. “Keep your hands up,” He orders, pulling his hands away, surprised by the obedience when she really keeps her hands in the exact position he left them. He keeps his eyes on the limp fingers, the pretty wrists for a couple of seconds before his eyes move to drink her features in, and he already feels his pants tighten before neither of them even loses one clothing item. 

 

“Such a good girl today,” He praises, and Jina’s cheeks heat up way too quickly for her to attempt to wipe her reaction away. He leans in, fingers wrapping around her jaw softly as she burns redder underneath him. He smirks, hell, he almost even giggles at the reaction. Their lips brush against one another when he whispers. “Do you like it?”

 

“W-what?”

 

“When I call you a good girl?”

 

“Pfft.” She looks away, trying to lean out of Hoseok’s hand, but he is firm to make her look back at him.

 

“Keep your eyes on me,” He orders again, and Jina blinks, subtly pulling her lower lips between her teeth. Her cheeks burn impossibly redder, and boy doesn’t Hoseok love the reactions he’s getting out of her. 

 

He always loved it. From that very first day under the yellow light of the interrogation room, the faint ghost of a brush of red across her cheeks, god, it only keeps getting better.

 

Hoseok starts to move down, smirking when Jina obeys as he trails the hand on her jaw down the curves of her body all the way to her waist. 

 

Jina waits for her discomfort to kick in when Hoseok plants open-mouthed kisses all over the sensitive skin, she has been waiting for it since the moment he started giving extra attention to this specific patch of skin, but it never comes. If anything, it feels comforting, the way he gently handles her. The noises of lips meeting skin fill the room, and Jina finds her eyes fluttering closed. She breathes deeply, memories of the previous day trying to viciously eat her away, almost triggering her into pushing Hoseok away, but a little mumble wipes away the fog.

 

“I’m so sorry,” Hoseok mumbles against her skin, leaning his forehead against her belly. His thumbs draw gentle, slow circles on her sides. Jina finds herself moving her hands, aching to bury her fingers in the dark, soft mess at her belly. She feels his breath break in shudders against her stomach when she feels the soft locks wrap around her fingers, and she runs them all the way through to the back of his head rather comfortingly. “I’ll never… never let anything like this happen to you again.”

 

“Okay,” Jina whispers, something warm spilling in her chest.

 

Hoseok looks up at her, and she continues to slowly run her fingers through his hair, finally settling for the pace he set. There is some unspoken thing here, tying them together. Some common belief, newly found trust in each other that just seems too overwhelming to comprehend. 

 

And just like that, Hoseok loses it. He climbs back up to her and crashes his lips against hers, just this kiss, just this once he’ll let the pace accelerate. The fingers in his hair are pulled out and firmly pressed to the mattress like they were only seconds ago. 

 

He grinds down, desperate for any friction by now, and Jina whimpers in his mouth. Her kiss stutters, her tongue halts and Hoseok feels her hands stiffen under his. 

 

God, is this even real? Could he be making this up in his head from how much he craves it? Her soft lips captured by his, light whimpers meeting his ears, hips thrusting up towards him in raw need, is this all real?

 

Hoseok groans, loud enough to make Jina open up her previous closed eyes, and with a strong will to hear him again, Jina pushes her hands up and out of Hoseok’s grasp to push him on his back, head falling on his pillow, and she doesn’t waste a second to climb on top of him.

 

And he is hard against her. She grinds down, hands flat on his chest while he holds her down by her waist, and he moans at the friction. 

 

“What happened to being good?” Hoseok asks, a challenging gaze shared between them.

 

Jina’s hair falls around her face as she looks down at him, eyes a daze and oh so seductive. Hoseok pulls his hands up, raising them under the sweater to touch more skin, and Jina raises her arms up. He pulls the sweater and undershirt together up, above, and off, and he needs a second to take her in before he moves again.

 

“I don’t like being ordered around,” She says, heaving a little, and Hoseok is eating her up with his gaze. 

 

She feels self-conscious for a few seconds as Hoseok moves his hands slowly up and down her bare sides, eyes trailing from her eyes, to her lips, her neck, collarbones, breasts, stomach, then all the way back up again, but the moment he opened his mouth, she loses the flash of dominance that filled the air only seconds ago.

 

“And I thought you couldn’t be more perfect.”

 

A hand trails from her abdomen, brushing up between her breasts until he reaches her neck, and Jina’s reaction almost makes him burst when she flutters her eyes closed, rolling her head back, one hand coming up to wrap around his wrist. 

 

She fits perfectly in his hands. Like a puzzle piece, molded perfectly only for his hold. 

 

This can’t be real.

 

He sits up, hand wrapping properly around her perfectly arched neck, and he pulls her flush against him. She grinds down once again, features crunching up in pleasure as she keeps her lower lip between her teeth. Her eyes stay closed even when she feels Hoseok’s breath fan her face.

 

“What am I going to do with you, huh?” 

 

“Whatever you want,” She replies right away.

 

Hoseok tightens his grip, but not today. He’s gonna have this, gonna have everything he’s thought of before, but not today. Today he’s gonna give, and he’s gonna give good. He’s gonna give until his name is the only thing on her tongue.

 

“No, it’s not about me today,” Hoseok tells her, and she opens her eyes, a small hand trailing to his nape. His grip on her neck loosens, but he keeps his hand there. He massages the area. “Tell me what you want.”

 

Her breath gets sharper, she grits her teeth together just a bit. Their gazes meet. “I want you.”

 

“You want me?” Hoseok tilts his head to the side. A little smirk threatens to break. She tries to grind down again, but his other arm firmly stops her from moving. “Why aren’t you doing what I told you, then?”

 

He looks down, at the nonexistent space between their chests, and trails his gaze back up to her eyes when she stays silent. He brings her face closer with a firm-ish tug, and her mouth parts, looking at him down her nose. 

 

“Want me to fuck you good?”

 

She stiffens in his arms, goes red again, and swallows, he feels it under his palm. Hoseok raises an eyebrow and waits for an answer, until Jina nods, lowering her chin to look at him through her lashes. 

 

“Words, baby.”

 

“Yes.” Jina nods again, a bit hurriedly but firm.

 

“Yeah?” He pushes her on the mattress again, hand still around her neck while the other cages her. Jina arches her back and feels him against her. He leans to whisper in her ear. “Then, sit back, be a good girl, and let me take care of you, okay?”

 

Her cheek brushes against his jaw when she nods.

 

“Hands up,” He orders, leaning away and down. As she pulls her hands up above her head and crosses them at the wrists oh so delicately, Hoseok pulls her further down the bed. 

 

With his chest against the mattress, he feels one of Jina’s legs wrap around his back as he comes face to face with her heat. He leans up to kiss the protruding bone of her hips on one side, hooking a finger on the fabric of her pants on the other side, and he begins to pull them down. 

 

Jina tries to manage her breaths, closing her eyes, letting herself just feel him. His fingers on the warm skin as he pushes the pants further down, his other hand on her still covered thigh that squeezes and kneads the skin every now and then, she allows herself to feel it all.

 

As he pulls the pants fully off of her body, he makes sure to feel her too. She opens her eyes as he undresses her, looking right at him as he trails milky skin with his eyes, unrevealing it more and more for his eyes only. His digits gently drag along her thighs, and he has to sit up a bit to pull them completely off, giving Jina enough space to let her knees fall closed before him.

 

The intimidation of having him fully closed while she lays bare at his mercy is faint, but it’s surely there, and Hoseok seems to see right through it because he soon pushes his jacket off his shoulders and pulls his hoodie and undershirt above his head, pants hanging low on his torso with a  poorly buckled belt.

 

Hoseok tries to keep his reaction to her bare body to a minimum, but all the blush, all the purple and red marks he influenced, the look in her eyes, could all make him cum untouched. 

 

His eyes graze over the fading bruise on her ribs. He fights the urge to graze his fingers over the multi-colored skin, but it is soon rendered useless when he places a hand flat on her stomach and trails it up, brushing against the patch of skin and across to one of her breasts. 

 

Her knees remain closed, he is unsure whether it is intentional as he leans down, pushing them gently flat against the mattress to get to her chest. 

 

Hoseok hooks an arm under her and kisses the tender skin in his other grasp before his lips find their way to the perked nipple. 

 

And Jina shudders at the warmth of his mouth against her. She closes her eyes again, frowning in surprise at the sparks that fire through her entire being while Hoseok gets to work.

 

He kisses, he bites, he licks, he sucks, and Jina is soon melted to a puddle under him as he alternates between a breast and the other, massaging the unoccupied one with a skilled hand. 

 

“Hoseok…” Jina moans, and it goes straight to his dick.

 

She arches her back, and when Hoseok leans back up with one last bite to the sensitive skin, she has one knee pulled up while the other remains against the mattress. He puts a hand to the raised knee, watching how her hands grip on nothing above her head.

 

It’s adorable. 

 

He trails his hand from her knee to her shin, gently moving it aside, finding absolutely no resistance whatsoever. Jina watches him, watches his eyes as they trail from her hips and down, down, down after he spreads her legs apart just enough to place himself between them. 

 

He licks his lips, and Jina finds herself whining. “Please.” He’s taking too long. She feels near insanity. 

 

“Please what?”

 

“Fuck me,” She spills, desperate and heaving, and Hoseok takes another look at her exposed heat with a growing smirk. She whimpers. “Please. I need you.” She arches her back, squeezing her eyes shut. “Fuck, Hoseok. I c-can’t—“

 

He doesn’t think his name ever sounded so good.

 

“I can’t… I can’t wait any longer.”

 

He shakes his head. If he can stretch time, he definitely will. “I need to loosen you up a bit,” He massages one of her sides, the less-injured one. His other hand trails from her knee and down to her inner thigh. “Wouldn’t want you to be in pain now, would we?”

 

I do . Jina thinks to herself, but she only lets out a mewl instead. I want the pain. I want it all.

 

But Hoseok has one objective in mind, and he made it clear long ago. He leans down, leaving a trail of purple/red marks in his wake as he took his time painting the soft skin with bites and open-mouthed kisses. Jina looks at him, anticipation filling her whole being the closer he gets, and just at her pelvis, Hoseok switches to the other thigh, and Jina groans out in frustration.

 

She feels the smirk against her skin when he speaks. “We’ll get there, tiger. Just relax.”

 

She tries to obey, she really does, but it’s so hard when she’s in this position, looking at him devouring her whole, painting her skin a pleasant palette that only drenches her more. He takes his time, as he does, and it truly looks like he is enjoying it. He gazes at her every now and then, making sure she has her eyes on him, listening to her moans and whimpers at the pleasant, little pain he inflicts.

 

Jina’s eyes flutter closed, trying to let loose and just trust him and see what’s gonna happen. Teeth drag on her lower lip until it is set free, and Hoseok can feel her physically relax under his touch.

 

Breathe in, one, two, three, and out, one, two, three.

 

Hoseok hooks his elbows at the back of her knees, hands slipping and settling on each side of her hips, moving slow.

 

Breathe in, one, two, three, and out, one, two–

 

“Arrghhhhh…”

 

Now this, this is where he was trying to get to. This mewl, the sluttery, desperate, satisfied tone, when he finally places his lips on her, when he finally lets his tongue go to work. He lets out a groan himself at the pleasant taste that greets him, and he mentally notes to make sure to praise her for keeping her hands to herself all that time.

 

For now, he gives extra care to the bundle of nerves at his tongue, his grip on her hips tightening in hunger. Her breath shudders, she squirms just a bit under him. When he looks up at her, lips apart, eyebrows furrowed, eyes rolling back with a deepening red on her cheeks, he is only pushed to pleasure her more, to eat those pretty moans out of her.

 

“You taste so good, baby.” The pet name managed to stick, and something twists in Jina’s stomach at his tone.

 

He watches as she opens up her eyes dazedly to look at him. He flattens his tongue on her entire middle, taking a long, thorough lick with a moan of his own. Looking up at her with a little smirk, he asks the puddle at his hands. “Do you wanna move your hands?”

 

Jina’s eyes open further, no longer droopy and lost in pleasure. Something ignites in the brown of her eyes, and the woman nods firmly. Hoseok lowers to her folds again, letting go of one of her thighs for a reason she is about to discover soon with his smirk still intact. Her body tightens again, waiting for the possible permission to slip out of his lips against her.

 

“You’ve earned it well,” He says, separating her folds with a V of his index and middle finger, exposing her whole for him. He mumbles against her. “You can go ahead.”

 

A shrike is pulled out of her at the new depth, and one of her hands fly to her hair while the other travels to his, and she yanks harshly on both. The woman can barely breathe, and Hoseok doesn’t seem to want to stop this anytime soon, so Jina tries to hold herself back. It’d be too embarrassing, wouldn’t it?

 

She hasn’t been touched in so, so long. Her high is nearing rather quickly and she has absolutely no idea how to climb back down. Every groan, every breath she feels against her, every time he looks up into her eyes, watching her crumble, it all makes her voice a pitch higher, makes her body tense up a notch.

 

While she stays distracted by his tongue sending her to heaven, Hoseok begins to sneak in a digit, and–

 

“Fuck, Hoseok I’m…” He pushes it further, curling the knuckle to find a certain angle while Jina stammers away. He slowly pumps it in and out, each time at a different angle, and with a gentle bite on her clit and a certain angle, Jina almost screams out. “Oh my god, Hoseok, no! I’m gonna cum!” The words are barely comprehendible. She pulls on his hair, nails scraping his scalp in a way that sends shivers down Hoseok’s back. Another finger gently joins the other, stretching out the tightness into relaxation. “It’s…f-fuck! It’s too soon!”

 

Hoseok can only chuckle, forcing his mouth and fingers in a rhythm just right that Jina arches her back, her thighs tightening gradually around his head as he abuses that certain spot beyond her walls. He lets Jina take control of his head at some point, letting her move his mouth where she wants, pushing him down, rendering him gladly breathless as he subtly adds another finger to make sure she is loose enough not to be in pain, but that just manages to push her right over the edge.

 

Because her thighs became impossibly tight around his head, and her climax was released on his fingers with one last tug of his hair that carves a growl out of him, although it was barely heard from the volume of Jina’s mewls.

 

A few pumps later, Hoseok licks her clean, making sure to capture her face to store it in his head for later. Jina trembles, electricity surging through her with every brush against her abused clitoris. Her thighs involuntarily loosen, feet settling on his back as she lets out little ah ahs when Hoseok mildly overstimulates her before raising his head.

 

And Jina makes sure to watch it all. She shamelessly stares through half-closed eyes, face scrunching up when he pulls his fingers out of her only to swallow the digits beyond shiny lips hungrily. Her hands move on their own at this scene, lust overcoming her whole being. Fingers let go of his locks to wrap around his wrist, and she pulls him up to her. Hoseok lets her move him, but he doesn’t think he was ever ready to see what she does next.

 

With her tongue slipping just a bit out of her lips, Jina shoves his fingers in her mouth, making sure to maintain eye contact until she tastes herself around the digits. She sucks them clean, gently bopping her head to swallow down every drop of her remaining climax, and Hoseok can’t do anything else but watch. 

 

With one last stripe from his knuckles and up, Jina purrs, siren eyes pulling him in. “I do taste good.” Hoseok, too captivated by the gravitational pull of her eyes, doesn’t realize that her other hand was trailing down his body until he feels it on his clothed cock. He’s hard, god, rock hard in her hand, it must be painful. “Can’t I taste you too?”

 

“You already have,” Hoseok tells her, voice low, husky, keeping Jina’s arousal high. “Today isn’t about me, sweetheart. All you have to do today is take.”

 

He pulls himself up to his knees, moving a bit to the side to reach the drawer of his bedside table, and Jina lets her eyes wander. He is lean, no rock-hard abs but they’re surely outlined perfectly, and the V line at his abdomen is subtle but god, It’s not very easy keeping her hands to herself. She realizes that this is the first time she sees him completely topless as she traces his protruding, sculpted collarbones and down to his chest, and she curses herself for not allowing herself such luxury before.

 

His pants are dangerously low, the pink scar is clearly visible, and she fights the urge to push him to the mattress and kiss all over it. 

 

He reaches inside the drawer with one hand and unbuckles the belt with the other. With the drawer left open, Hoseok places a condom packet between his teeth and looks back at her, placing himself between her knees again as he unbuttons his pants. 

 

Jina shamelessly eats him whole with her eyes, letting her eyes capture every vein and every muscle deep in her memory. Hoseok chuckles, making her attention finally go back to his face and the smirking lips around the golden packet, it all makes her bite down on her tongue so she doesn’t let out any more unholy sounds.

 

“Like what you’re seeing?” He asks through his teeth, pushing down his boxers along with his pants, both their gazes trailing down to his cock when he finally grabs a hold of it. 

 

Jina giggles absentmindedly, raising herself up on her elbows to have a clearer look at him. He keeps his dark pants around his thighs, pumping his length slowly with one hand while the other slides up to her sternum.

 

“You look like a wet dream,” Jina smirks, now leaning on one elbow while the other hand trails up his arm, feeling every vein, every muscle, and the flex under her touch.

 

“Do I, now?” Hoseok chuckles, ripping the package open. He rolls the condom down his length with a breathy, almost inaudible moan. “Well, so do you.” He leans down, forcing her down flat against the mattress as he cages her underneath him with one hand, the other too busy with an entirely different task. Snaking one arm around his neck, while the other hand grips his shoulder, Jina shudders and flutters her eyes closed when she feels his tip at her entrance, and it is safe to say that they are both equally aching for each other. “Open your eyes, baby.”

 

Jina obeys almost immediately, and she has no time to react before both their jaws fall open, and the room is filled with the sound of satisfied moans. They keep their eyes locked while Hoseok slowly slides in, careful of hurting her, and god, isn’t she warm. 

 

Even on the inside as she engulfs him perfectly, her walls gladly welcome him with no resistance like he was made just for her, she’s warm.

 

The hand on his shoulder slides to his jaw, nails digging into his cheeks as he bottoms out. 

 

“Does it hurt?” He has to ask.

 

“N-no,” She stammers, eyes filled with uncontainable pleasure.

 

Hoseok licks his lips, leaning his forehead on hers. Legs wrap around him while Jina’s grip on him tightens, and she pulls him down by his jaw so their lips can meet again. With a swipe of her tongue, Hoseok’s mouth is more than accessible, his mind too lost in pleasure to focus on anything else.

 

 Jina is tight, so perfectly tight and warm, but staying still isn't enough for either of them. Hoseok pulls out when she whimpers, and he pushes back in when she bites his lip, making her whimper once more. 

 

He starts with slow, sensual thrusts that reach deep and far, having Jina’s voice dragging loud notes. She arches into him, lips freezing between his at some point, and Hoseok is more than satisfied with the look on her face when he starts to pick up his speed.

 

With a kiss to her jaw, Hoseok sits up again, placing a hand to her lower abdomen. He applies a gentle pressure, his thrust getting more confident and rapid, and he eventually feels himself under his hand. 

 

Jina feels the roll of his hips reach spots in her that she hasn’t been able to reach on her own, on lonely nights in the dim light of her room with her hands between her thighs, but seeing his hips rolling against her pelvis, seeing the smooth, gentle, pleasurable movement as he moves in and out of her in an increasing pace, it just manages to pull her closer to her second climax.

 

He looks up at her for a few seconds, and he already feels close. Her hair is tousled on the mattress. The cupid’s bow lips are hanging open, glossy, red, swollen, perfect. Brown eyes are shades darker, appearing almost black in the dim lights of the room, matching his own, and they roll back in pleasure. 

 

Her neck is painted red and purple, breasts bouncing rythmaticlly with every deep thrust, and she looks fucking beautiful. She looks -and  sounds - like everything he dreamt of, everything he thought he would never have. 

 

A hand grips on the sheets, and Hoseok notices the other one reach out to him. He immediately intertwined their fingers as if it was a reflex, even though he barely remembers any intercourse as intimate as this is. As if their bodies are constantly calling for each other, obeying to unspoken needs.

 

Jina’s breath is uneven and heavy, and something stings in her eyes; something uncontrollable. The pleasant pressure he’s putting on her abdomen makes her rut against him, needing more of him. She watches as he keeps his eyes on her for a few seconds before throwing his head back, letting out a guttural groan that radiates right from his core.

 

“Don’t—don’t slow down,” Jina tries to pull Hoseok back down to her, voice needier and needier by the second, and Hoseok finally notices the gloss in her eyes. “Please, please!” She begs, arching her back when he slows down to a stop. “God, you f-feel so good…I need you to…” A mewl, when she grinds down to him. Her eyelashes flatter, and he sees a single tear start to escape past her eyelid and to the corner of her eye. “Can’t you go harder, Hoseok? huh?”

 

Hoseok pants, the hold he has on himself is wavering, loosening. Captivated by the sluttery tone, Hoseok’s grip on her hips tightens.

 

Should he? it wouldn’t be too much, would it? He wants to keep looking at her face, but the more Jina lures him, the more he lets the instinct of doing as she wishes control him, and he is nearing the point of no going back.

 

But there has to be a best of both worlds, right? Something that can give her what she wants and let him care for her the way he wants to simultaneously.

 

Yeah, yeah he thinks this might work.

 

“Can you turn around for me?” Hoseok tells her, and the way a new strike of emotion appears in her eyes is too adorable to go unnoticed. She scatters to her elbows, and pushes herself on her stomach, and he slips out of her in the process. 

 

“Ass…” He grunts, pulling her ass up from the mattress with a firm tug. “Up.”

 

She pushes it back, still hungry for him. He has to fight back a laugh when she wiggles it in the air, trying to get close to him again, and only stops when he slides his hands from her waist to knead the milky skin presented like a wrapped gift for him to explore. 

 

He doesn’t fight the urge to run a hand down her spine until it reaches her nape. He pulls her towards him, eyes cast down to watch as he buries his cock between her folds, disappearing beyond the cheeks he wishes to paint red with the marks of his hands. 

 

They both moan loudly at the feeling, Hoseok feels Jina more relaxed around him this time around. The room is soon filled with the sound of skin slapping skin as Hoseok keeps himself deep and slightly harsher than he was only a minute ago. 

 

Both of Jina’s fists turn red with the harshness of her grip on the now wrinkled sheets. She tries to support herself up, face buried in the mattress with muffled whimpers easily dripping past her lips so deliciously, but her attempts are rendered useless with each thrust forwards from Hoseok’s consistent hips. 

 

“Oh god,” The detective calls out, head raising slightly, and her profile is visible when she tries to look at him. 

 

Hoseok leans down, pressing his front to her back. She leans her head on his shoulder, hissing at the yet new depth he reaches from this angel. One of her hands reach to find his nape, and she pulls him in for a kiss. Although sloppy and unfocused at first, it gains momentum with each stroke of Hoseok’s dick beyond her tightness.

 

Hoseok groans when her nails dig in his skin, delivering a harsh bite to her lip. His free hand trails up her forearm until it reaches the back of the hand still gripping the sheets. “Are you this desperate?”

 

Jina smiles in his lips, loosening her fingers on the sheets to welcome his own when he intertwines them again. The look in her eyes is mischievous, cunning, waiting for his reaction, although her mouth falls open in surprise when his other hand finds her sensitive clit.

 

Her fingers yank on the hair on the back of his head, and he bites down on her shoulder just enough for it to be felt. She tries to swallow down her moans, the added pleasure too much for her to control the volume if she decides to let go, but Hoseok doesn’t seem to like that.

 

Because instead of laying down, he yanks her up with him when he sits up on his knees. the hand that oh so lovingly held hers flies to her neck instead, fingers tightening on her jaw to keep her mouth forced open.

 

“I wanna hear you,” He grumbles huskily, hand and hips picking up speed, getting harsher. Merciless circles on her most sensitive bundle of  nerves fall in a messy rhythm with the quick snap of his hips. “Come on, pretty. I know you can do it.”

 

“Hoseok…” A low moan tumbles out of the back of her throat, but it’s not enough. 

 

He tightens his fingers on her jaw, slightly shaking her head as if to spill it out of her. “Yeah?” He places a kiss behind her ear. “Do I make you feel good, baby?” She twitches in his arms, a whimper making its way past her perfect lips. “Don’t you wanna cum?”

 

“I do, i do, i fucking do,” She chokes out, and Hoseok kisses the tear that managed to escape past her eyelids. She looks at him, eyes barely open. “You feel so good, Hoseok…” She holds him close, Hoseok pulls her even closer. “Fuck, i’m so close…”

 

“So am i, baby,” He moans uncontrollably, already feeling his body being pulled taut as a string of an instrument. 

 

She shudders, her voice pitching higher with every mewl, and Hoseok’s hand doesn’t know the meaning of slowing down. He keeps her straight against him when she tries to lean down, his own vocals betraying him when he attempts to drop in volume. 

 

“So perfect,” He mumbles through gritted teeth. “Perfect little hole,” Jina’s free hand goes to the wrist of the tight grip on her neck. Something is coiling tightly in her abdomen, Hoseok knows so when she starts to tighten around him, milking him into a nearing orgasam. “Open your fucking eyes and look at me.”

 

He tugs her head, tilting it so she looks at him again, and her eyes, if he didn’t know better, he would say that she’s in pain.  But there’s always a thin hair between pain and pleasure. 

 

“You gon’ cum?” He asks, and his other wrist starts to sting from the relentless movement. “Gonna cum all over my cock?”

 

She nods repeatedly, choking out a near-scream when he directs his hips in a certain angle. He notices more tears that have spilled out of her eyes, and he would’ve stopped everything if she wasn’t holding him so tightly. 

 

He keeps hitting that certain spot, and Jina starts shaking, growing incredibly tight around him. He waits, trying to push her over the edge first before he lets himself go, but doesn’t have to wait so long until Jina chokes out another scream of what seems to be his name, and she releaes her second orgasam of the night all over him.

 

Although her grip loosens on him as he starts to chase his own release, she doesn’t let go. He lowers them to the mattress again, a soaked hand moving away from her core to cage her underneath him, while the other releases her neck to find her hand again.

 

She is still a whimpering mess under him, fucked over and over into overstimulation that keeps her shaking, uncontrollable drool escaping past her parted lips to soak the sheets under her head. 

 

His head spins, feeling the pulse of her core against his twitching length, and he doesn’t think he can breathe properly anymore. His thrusts turn sloppy as they chase and chase and chase, guttural groans turning into moans of her name.

 

And just like a string snapping, he is pushed over the edge, releasing his long awaited orgasam in the condom tight around him. 

 

Chapter 21: ventuno

Notes:

ayo!!! no idea if anyone’s still here but i’m gonna keep updating anyways tbh bc i really really wanna finish this. we have around seven more chapters to go so im pushing myself to finish it tbh.

been really busy with uni and adult life lately hence the very very very late update, but im gonna finish this story sooner or later!!

if you’re still here from the beginning, i deeply thank u for the support and consistency even if i dont hold my end of the bargain but hehehe

i’ll hopefully update again soon!!(i say this every time but bare with me pls)

i hope u enjoy!!

The room is painted in a deep purple that seems to swallow them whole, muffling every single external sound that isn’t their slowing breaths. The sun finally disappeared from the horizon, and it gets darker by the second, and Hoseok worries for the woman in his arms.

It is still baffling him, all the intimacy. Experiencing something so foreign, something he never thought he could have is actively leaving him stranded and confused as he didn’t even have to make any effort to produce such behavior. It came naturally, like a call from the universe, how he craved her fingers around his, how he finds it difficult to be separated from her even after such messy intercourse.

Her eyes have fallen closed, and Hoseok sees her features twitch just a little as he gently pulls out of her. He sits back on his knees, tying the condom to aim it at the garbage can by the bed, and for what seems like forever, the sound it produces is the only thing that breaks the silence in the room.

And it’s not the awkward type of silence. It’s a silence of common understanding, of something unspoken, not yet grasped by either of their minds.

Jina is still as he pulls his pants back up to button them, body involuntarily moving on his own to settle by her side instead of on top of her. A hand falls to the back of her head, fingers sinking through a chestnut mess, and he speaks so gently that Jina barely even recognizes his voice.

“You okay?”

A shiver runs through her. Her eyes flutter open just enough to see his concerned gaze staring down at her, and she has to hold on with everything she has not to kiss him again. She doesn’t know how such a reflex has developed, wanting him, needing him, but she barely has the will to fight it anymore.

So, she nods, and another round of shivers washes over her as she lets her eyes fall closed again. It carries a thought, this time.

“I’ll go run you a bath, okay?” Jina hears him whisper, and this time she has to restrain herself from something else entirely.

Although feeling as if she would tumble if he lets go, Jina nods.

The bed dips with his movement as he gets off. Something warm gets draped over her naked body, it smells like him, just like everything else around her does. She finally moves, clutching the blanket up to her chest to bury her face in, filling all her senses with him.

And for the first time in so, so long, Jina realizes that she is safe.

 

Hoseok bends down to test the water temperature, sending an occasional glance to the doorway where Jina lies beyond. He makes sure to keep the lights dim to maintain a relaxing atmosphere, something in him just tells him that things such as a bright light or a loud voice wouldn’t really function well with Jina’s state.

The vanilla scent of the shower gel he accidentally over-poured in the tub starts to spread through the bathroom, and that gives Hoseok a silent cue to go get Jina. He shakes away a few paralyzing thoughts for her sake, but they manage to stick nevertheless as he genuinely has no idea if he is overdoing anything or not.

He knows well how far he can go, knows that even when he restrains himself it can still be harsh from the pent-up, overflowing emotions that come up during such vulnerable states, so even through random hook-ups, aftercare is always a must, but this is still new to him. Emotions, feeling the raw need to take care of her, to hold her in his arms skin to skin, it’s leaving his head in a mess.

However, it all fades in melli-seconds when he catches a glimpse of a shaking sob that Jina tries to suppress, and he swears he never moved so fast.

“What happened?” He panics. Is it because of me?

 

His hand is in her hair again, and unlike any other time, Jina lets go of the blanket to expose her face as she cries, but Hoseok only manages to catch a glimpse before she wraps her arms around him, pulling herself up in a half-sitting position.

Hoseok’s arms move on their own when he holds onto her, pulling her up into a more comfortable position against him. Her limbs aren’t very strong at the moment, she isn’t squeezing him, not pulling him any closer, but he holds her tight enough for the both of them. She’s mostly silent if it isn’t for the little sad whimpers and the sobs that rock her body whole, but she cries.

She cries freely, and Hoseok leans his back against the headboard as she stays on top of him. Her head is buried in the crook of his neck, both arms thrown around it limply while he holds her in silence, one hand gently caressing the skin of her back, the other buried in her hair as a habit.

They stay like that for a handful of minutes. Hoseok closed his eyes some time ago, careless of the tub that would be overflowing by now if it weren’t for the extra drains. Jina gets quieter by the second, but the skin of his neck is still wet with freshly-shed tears, and he has a feeling that this won’t be ending anytime soon.

So he speaks for the first time to tell her to hang on to him, and he moves from the bed, supporting her body against him more than she does. She simply wills her legs to wrap around his torso and tightens her arms around his neck just a bit, and lets Hoseok carry her to the dim bathroom.

He places her on the edge of the tub and leans to turn the tab off. Jina holds on to his free hand, little sniffles sounding in the echoey bathroom before she comes face to face with his toned middle. A hand creeps up to cup her cheek and tilt her face up, and Hoseok’s heart breaks at the sight.

Jina’s face is impossibly red, shiny with tears around the eyes and down to her cheeks, with a gaze so agonized looking up at him.

Hoseok’s head tilts, he looks sad. He only lets his emotions scratch the surface, but Jina sees the slight change in the look of his eyes, and it makes her want to cry even more. A thumb grazes under her eye.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” He tells her. “You can cry as much as you want, I’ll take care of you.”

The sentence pulls a string, and Jina forces her face down, a little sob bubbling over.

“I’ll take care of you.”

It is so, so hard to give in, to put away a moral code she lives by, but she is tired. Hell, she’s fucking exhausted. She can’t will herself to push him away anymore, to tell him she can take care of herself, she can be just fine on her own, but such a task became a heavyweight, one that holds her down with shackles and chains, because she can’t.

She is in no state to, and she can’t think of anyone else better than Hoseok to take over.

So, Jina lets go.

“Okay,” She nods, eyes blurry from the tears. “Okay.”

He pulls her up by their connected hands, the other sneaking around her waist for support as he helps her in the tub. Her body relaxes just a bit when she comes in contact with the warm water, and a small sigh escapes her when she is finally seated, engulfed by warmth.

Hoseok attempts to step away so he can grab the shampoo from the counter, but a weak hand tug at his. Jina is looking up at him desperately when he looks back at her.

“Aren’t you gonna join me?” Her tone is subtly pleading.

Hoseok blinks. “Do you want me to?”

Jina nods.

“Alright,” He assures. “Let me just grab the shampoo, yeah?”

Jina’s eyes follow the gesture of Hoseok’s head to fall on the bottle of shampoo before it trails back to him, and she finally gives a little nod of her head as she lets go of his hand.

Although Hoseok isn’t slow with his movement, it feels like it takes ages for Hoseoek to take off his pants and step in the warm tub with a shampoo bottle in hand. Jina sniffles as she scatters towards him again, making the bubbles ripple around them as she takes her previous position on his lap, wrapped around him like a koala.

And really, who would’ve thought that this is how they were going to end up?

This time, her arms snake around his waist, and it takes Hoseok nothing to wrap his arms around her again.

The tears never seem to want to stop, unleashing oceans of bottled waterfalls that seem to make their exit only upon Hoseok’s presence. Everything that happened yesterday, everything that has been happening for some time now, it all seems to bubble over at once, and Jina becomes shakier and shakier with each sob at the scenes that force themselves upon her exhausted brain.

Somehow, Hoseok knows this. Knows what kind of darkness must be swarming her head as she holds him close, and the only thing he can do is shush the little whimpers and pat away the harsher sobs.

His knuckles sting badly, cracked skin irritated by the soapy bubbles, but he can’t care less. The dried blood starts to get washed away by the warm water, painting the whiteness around it a faint pink. He has to constantly fight the urge to apologize so he can focus on her wholly, to throw away the guilt and shame, for now, to just hold her for as long as she wants, let her cry as much as she wants; because maybe that’s as much comfort as he can provide her.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” He attempts when she seems a bit calmer.

Jina stays quiet for a few seconds, then mumbles hoarsely. “About which of them, exactly?”

A ping of guilt flashes across his chest.

“Anything,” Hoseok pushes past the lump in his throat. “You can talk about anything.”

She nuzzles her cheek on his chest. “I wouldn’t know where to start.”

The ends of her hair are damp. He pushes the strands away from her neck and out of her face, attempting to get a glimpse of her once more. With two fingers, he tilts her head up so their gazes can meet. “You don’t have to. Just… if you have something on your mind, don’t hold it in for too long.”

Maybe she got too lost in the deep brown of his eyes this time. Or is it the way his lips slightly pout after he finishes talking? She doesn’t know, but there seems to be some sort of magnet that pulls her lips towards his in a chaste kiss that surprisingly leaves him stunned for a few moments before he kisses her back.

It’s slow, this time, purposeless if not to distract herself. They fall apart not too long after, Jina finds her hand on his cheek as they lean their foreheads against each other, deep breaths falling in a calming rhythm.

“I was so scared, Hoseok,” Jina whispers. She’s even more scared of saying it out loud. “God, I never wanna go through something like this again.”

Arms tighten around her protectively. “I’ll never let this happen again.”

Jina opens her previously closed eyes to look at him, and she just takes a few seconds to take him in. His eyebrows are slightly more furrowed than they were just a minute ago, a faded sour expression plastered to his features.

She wishes to tell him he shouldn’t make promises he isn’t sure of, that stuff like that can be out of his control. But Jina is the last person to talk about control.

She lets her head fall to his shoulder again, eyes falling closed, and it is quiet for five solid seconds before the water ripple, and the quick snap of a cap opening echoes in the big bathroom. Moments later, Jina feels a heavy liquid on the top of her head, but her eyes refuse to open. It doesn’t look like Hoseok minds, doesn’t even look like he expected her to move when he starts to run his fingers through her hair, nails gently scraping her scalp.

He massages the shampoo in, noting how Jina’s mouth parts, and how her body gradually falls limp on top of his. It was a good call to lower the portable showerhead within his reach before they hop in because he easily rinses off the shampoo from her hair, and he wonders if she has fallen asleep until she helps him with the rinsing, shielding away her face from the stream of warm water.

He also wonders when was the last time she got to relax like this, the last time she let someone take care of her the way he is. The possibility of the answer being never is very high. She stiffens when Hoseok mentions for her to sit at the other end of the tub so he can wash her body.

He tries to undo the tough knots that managed to build from a single sentence as he scrubs the smooth skin. Jina puts the focused look on his face to memory, and she almost feels bad for tensing up the way she did, only to tense up again when he comes to her core.

“I-I uh…” She holds his hand, sitting up straighter. “I can do this myself.”

“I was taught to clean up my mess,” Hoseok is a determined man.

Her core muscles sting when she awkwardly parts her legs so the man can get to work. Head thrown back against the tub, shudders surge through her being when he brushes somewhere sensitive. Jina tries to relax.

Maybe that’s how it’s supposed to be, aftercare. Her previous experiences were often quick, little emotion overpowered by lust, barely ever receiving anything more than a forehead kiss afterward, but there is a fat chance she took part in such negligence too as she continued to convince herself that this is fine. That she doesn’t need to be taken care of, that she would rather take care of the people around her instead, that she can’t find the time to pay herself any mind.

Nevertheless, she remains oblivious to the small gestures those around her manage to sneak in without her notice. Taking time to tidy her room for her in her absence, getting her breakfast when she fails to remember having to eat, fixing her hood on her head as it rains; maybe those little things were the secret of her persistence.

They stay on opposite sides of the tub when Hoseok is done. The silence is comfortable, what little tension Jina had in her fading along with the popping bubbles. The water soon turns cool, and Hoseok is pulling her away from the edge of a little slumber that her aching eyes have managed to give into. He helps her out of the tub, wraps each of them in a towel then ushers her out.

The room is dark, Jina’s hands tighten around him until he turns the lights on.

In a fresh change of clothes, she sits between his legs on the loveseat by the window as he dries her hair. She stares out at the lively city, and she begins to feel as if she has to give back. Being on the receiving end all day makes her mouth turn bitter, the unusualness of it all not giving her a chance to fully relax.

He orders food, and Jina becomes squirmy. Silence still prevails for the most part if not for Jina offering to change the bedsheets instead of him, or following him in the bathroom to help mend the little puddly mess they managed to make around the tub (which he refused.).

 

Her sleepy distress soon surfaces enough for Hoseok to take notice, and he lets her fetch plates from the kitchen when the food arrives. They eat in silence, and Jina is less squirmy as he lets her help him in cleaning up the table after their meal.

However, this isn't the only thing he picked up. Little muffled sneezes catch his attention from the moment they stepped out of the tub, but he only starts to pay any mind to them when she begins to clear her throat more than it is usual, slightly pained looks disappearing from her face as fast as they appear.

A text turns his stomach upside down while she’s in the bathroom, and he is suddenly reminded of everything he tried to let out of his hair just for the night. Jimin’s name is on display.

I did what you asked.

Then, another text.

Tell me she’s okay.

Because, at the end of the day, Jina isn’t his.

First and foremost, she’s Jimin’s sister.

She isn’t. Hoseok types back with a weary heart. I’m doing my best.

The bathroom door opens, and Hoseok locks the phone and shoves it in his pocket. He runs his hands down his face at the failed attempt of ignorance.

What is he doing, really? Bedding his best friend’s sister after such an experience, with blood still fresh on his hands. Not that he minds that, not like it was his first, nor last time, but something about touching Jina with blood-soaked hands, it messes something up in him.

Right before the thoughts can get too overwhelming, a figure towers over him.

He wouldn’t really say tower, but she stands right in front of him, fingers subtly twitching and fumbling with the oversized sleeve of Hoseok’s hoodie that almost swallows her whole.

She has something on her mind. He’s seen her like this before.

“Do you need something?” Hoseok leans back into the couch, a hand reaching out to pull her close.

She tries to swallow past the irritation in her throat, raising a hand to scratch her neck as she looks to the side. Would she seem too clingy? They only slept together, she doesn’t know if she’s pushing her luck to ask to stay the night again.

Daeun can’t see her like this.

She knows he is probably not going to object, might even feel too bad to, but that’s exactly what she doesn’t want. She doesn’t want the pity, it makes her feel utterly helpless.

“Are you getting sleepy?” Hoseok sits at the edge of the couch, pulling her between his legs. She shifts her gaze down to him, something unexplainable spreading in her chest. “Wanna go to bed? or should we nap here?”

Hoseok is looking on the couch, trying to conjure a comfortable position for the pair of them. He never really… cuddled with anyone here.

But Jina remains silent. He looks up at her with expectancy.

“Why don’t you skip work tomorrow? I can call Jeongsu—“

“I… I can’t skip,” Jina finally speaks. She shakes her head a little with a slight frown. “I need to start digging. It all just… looks too…”

“You need to rest,” Hoseok states when she trails off. “You overexploit yourself.”

“I rested today.”

“I don’t think this is enough, Jina.”

Jina pauses, her frown deepening. She doesn't realize where Hoseok’s hands have climbed, nor is she aware of where her own sweater paws have been placed. Hoseok pulls her closer by her waist, chin almost resting on her stomach as he looks up at her.

Her pause concludes with a raise of her eyebrow. “Look who’s talking.”

Hoseok stares at her for a few seconds, fighting the urge to smile while she looks down at him sarcastically, all flushed cheeks and swollen eyes and everything.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She rolls her eyes and manages to deliver a small, pawed hit to his shoulder where her hands have been settling for a while now.

“Are you suggesting we both take the day off and rot in bed all day, then?” Hoseok leans back, a slight smirk pulling at the corner of his lip as he pulls her on his lap in a position that only keeps getting more and more familiar. “Because this isn’t an offer that I should even consider.”

The rosiness of her cheeks deepens at the position. Pulling her bottom lip between her teeth, she closes her eyes and lets out a sigh.

“I’m suggesting that you should take your own advice sometimes.”

“I’m willing to take it if you do,” Hoseok says, and he may not sound serious, but if that’s what it would take for her to rest, he wouldn’t think twice even if she needs much more rest than he does. “Just say the word.”

She pouts, Hoseok finds it hard not to kiss it away as she contemplates what her next words should be.

Yes, his behavior may have managed to kick away an insecurity out of many (somehow, she really doesn't know how he does it.), however, she doesn’t know if skipping work would be so wise given the current situation.

Nevertheless, something—that is beginning to be quite irritating—keeps tugging her towards the man under her.

The thought of staying in for one more day, isolated from the outside world along with any possible threat that can come biting her in the ass under a thick blanket in Hoseok’s arms fills her mind with all sorts of wants and needs, and they can only be met if she stays.

“You’re getting sick, anyways,” Hoseok tries to push. “Bet you might even be running a fever. Take the day off.”

Jina was hoping to conceal it, hoping that if she just ignores it her body will push it away, but it is inevitable. The irritating clog in her throat only keeps getting more unhidable.

“You must’ve caught it too,” Jina is trying to look anywhere but Hoseok’s eyes. She keeps her gaze at his chin, her pout so fucking kissable.

“Ah, bugger.” He mock-sighs. “Guess we’re both obligated to stay home, now.”

Jina rolls her eyes, throwing her head back in an attempt to put some distance between them, which Hoseok just disagrees with. He pulls her back to him, and she lets herself be adjusted so she’s in the same position she was in back in the tub.

“I have some cold meds. I’ll make you chamomile tea or something for your throat and we can head to bed afterwards.”

“You too. You should take something just in case.”

Hoseok breathes out a little chuckle. “Mmm, I will.”

 

Like they’ve done this a million times before, the pair swallow a couple of pills— withHoseok forcing her to take the heavier, more efficient ones— and head back for Hoseok’s bed with a couple of herbal hot drinks even though it’s barely 8. With a pointless conversation going back and forth between them, they begin to drift in and out of sleep, leaving Hoseok in a hazy state, not knowing if this is real or a twisted dream.

It wasn’t so long ago that he ached for this. For someone to stay in his arms, to be held, to have this kind of dynamic flowing comfortably within the mess that is his life. It left him up too many nights, holding a little too pathetically on a pillow as silence screams all around him, rendering him painfully alone.

It wasn’t so long since that hole that just never wanted to be filled swallowed him, of having his sexual needs met yet constantly feeling like something is missing.

Like yeah, sure, he slept around plenty, had a lot of great sexual partners, but that gaping, empty, hollow hole in his chest of not having someone to hold, someone just for him, it always left him staring blankly at the ceiling of his bedroom.

It’s ironic, really, such a deep need for this considering the life he lives, knowing well that if such a person existed, he is in big trouble.

Because at the end of the day, being with Hoseok, being important to Hoseok, it’s really like writing their name inside a death note.

That’s what he has always thought, at least.

However, Hoseok didn’t even stop to consider the hole in him today. Never paid it any mind, like it never really existed.

And maybe it doesn’t anymore, not with Jina.

He doesn’t know what to call it. A crush? Simple attraction? He knows it might be even deeper than that. Maybe it’s because he’s been deprived of feeling like this for so long? Or is it the way Jina’s little snores fill the quietness of his forever-silent room?

Both. Could be both. Could be everything.

He does know, though, that however the case is, it is bad. Bad for him, bad for Jina, bad for Jimin, it’s just plain out fucking bad, yet so, incredibly nice. So fucking nice he could stay in bed with her forevermore, where he knows he can keep her safe, where she can remain just for him.

Outside of his apartment, Jina is Jimin’s little sister. She is someone Seokjin is incredibly wary of, a hard-working detective that fell in the wrong circle and it’s all his fucking fault. She is Daeun’s daughter, the one she keeps safe, the one that keeps her safe. She is a lot of things, just not his.

So he wants to savor this. Wants to wake her up and do anything, wants to feel her skin on his and hold her to his chest if she cries again. Wants to tend to her injuries, pour her a cup of water when he notices the tightness of her skin, and he really wants to wake up with her arms thrown around him, soft breaths echoing in his ears.

Her eyes crack open. Hoseok doesn’t know what time it is. They stare at each other for what seems to be an eternity.

His eyes are going over her features, the way they seem to always do. They are relaxed, though. Calm, plain, sleepy. Jina wants to reach out and smother his bed hair down, she wants to feel his skin under her fingertips to make sure he is real.

Her throat itches badly. Her eyes flutter closed again in an irritated frown as she buries the lower part of her face in the duvet. She tries to clear her throat, dull distress flowing up to her head.

“You okay?” Hoseok mumbles, reaching up to take a hold of the forearm that climbed up to her neck.

It’s his turn to frown, though, because her skin is way warmer than it should be.

He pulls her closer, grazing his knuckles against her forehead. The back of his hand slides down to her cheek, and Jina can see the concern in his eyes as she opens her own up again.

“You’re burning up,” He tells her. His hand turns so he can take a hold of her rosy cheek as dazed eyes pour in his own. “Did it get worse?”

“A bit,” Her voice is hoarse, eyebrows deepening at the unpleasant strain of her vocal cords. “I don’t know if my bones hurt from the cold or from…uh,” Her eyes drift from his. “You know.”

A smile tugs at the corner of his lips, and he pecks her nose softly. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have–”

“No,” Jina shakes her head, a hand falling flat on his sternum. Her gaze meets his again. “It’s fine. I’m fine. Not complaining.”

His body relaxes a bit under her touch at the reassurance, but he is pulling away from her too soon. Jina reaches out immediately, left cold at the sudden loss of touch, but she hides desperate hands under the covers before he turns around once more to look at her, now out of bed.

“I’ll get you an ice pack. Do you usually take any more meds when this happens?” Jina shakes her head no. “Do you want anything to drink?”

Fucker is making her burn redder than she already is. “No, thank you.”

He moves with a nod of his head, and only when he is no longer in her sight does she really register just how shitty her body feels.

Her eyes are burning, fighting against every force in her to fall closed again, but how could she just let them do so when he’s so close? Her bones, every fucking bone is heavy and achy, she might as well sink into the mattress from the weight. She pushes herself on her back only for her vision to swim, and she doesn’t want to know how it would feel to actually stand up on her feet.

It’s dry when a cough is forced out of her, leaving her chest hot and strained.

This is great. Just great. Hoseok just had to say that she’s gotta stay home.

When he comes back, Jina is coughing in her elbow again, trying to sit up with a hand on her chest. Hoseok sighs, walking to her side of the bed to hand her a cup of water that she scowls at.

Water is her worst enemy when she has a sore throat.

“C’mon.”

“I told you I didn’t want anything to drink.”

“It’s literally just water.”

“I can barely swallow my own saliva, Hoseok.”

“I got lozenges,” He shakes the item in his hand and sits up a bit to push the cup to her lips, from which she tries to back away rather dramatically. Pushing a knee to the mattress while the other foot is planted to the floor, he pushes his other hand to the back of her head to stop her from moving.“Don’t be stubborn. Just drink the damn thing.”

Jina whines, eyes squeezing shut as the cool liquid passes through her burning throat. The coolness makes the experience a bit less painful than feared, but damn her if she’s not equally dramatic as if it was. Her fidgeting resulted in water escaping her pale-ish lips to flow down her chin and onto the duvet, at which Hoseok sighs as he pulls the transparent cup away from her mouth.

“Tsk,” His thumb wipes away the liquid shining on her chin, fingertip accidentally grazing the bottom of Jina’s lower lip. After putting down the cup, he gives her the lozenges and waits for her to pop one in her mouth before he is gently pushing her to lay back down on the mattress.

She smacks her lips together at the taste. An easy smile makes its way to Hoseok’s lips.

“Try to go back to sleep.” His fingers brush away the bangs from her forehead to make way for the ice pack. The heat is flushing her face, but she feels her cheeks tingle with embarrassment as he places it on her forehead. The hiss she produces at the contact is loud, but Hoseok doesn’t move his hand away. Instead, his free hand climbs to her cheek again, and she can see him scowl in concentration as he feels her temperature. “If it doesn’t get better in an hour or something, we’re going to a hospital.”

Jina rolls her eyes. “Don’t be dramatic. It’s just a cold.”

“Just shut your pretty mouth and go to sleep, brat.”

He can’t just keep doing shit like that.

“What about you?” One of her eyes accidentally falls closed, the comfort of the pillows engulfing her.

“Please don’t fall asleep with that thing still in your mouth.”

Ah, right. The taste of honey and lemon in her mouth attacks her again. Her mind starts to get a bit hazy. “You say I should fall asleep, then I shouldn’t.” She gestures with her hands as he finally withdraws his hands back to himself. “What exactly am I supposed to do here?”

With a hand on her thigh and an absent-minded smile on his face, Hoseok instructs. “Just keep sucking on the tablet until it dissolves then fall asleep.”

Her other eye falls shut, but she’s still lousy. The heat must be getting to her head.“Kinda would rather suck on sumn’ else.”

“What?”

“Hmm?” She’s giggling now, raising the back of her hand to cover her mouth. Those pills she took earlier must’ve been mad strong. Hoseok is staring at her, probably in disbelief, she wouldn’t really blame him because she can’t believe what she said either.

Her fit of giggles goes on for a few more seconds, eyes softly shut, and Hoseok can’t really help the little chuckle that tumbles out of him as he stands up from the bed to get in from his side. Her eyes are cracked open when he climbs back in, looking up at him with a relaxed smile on her face before she flutters them closed once more.

“You know,” Her voice is airy, speech slurring. “I haven’t been as scared as I was yesterday in so long.”

He blinks once, twice, thrice, and her words are registered slowly.

“T’ brought back a lot of memories, being held back with no escape like that,” She sighs almost dreamily, and Hoseok remains frozen. “But I still managed to get myself out of it, eh?” She chuckles, eyes fluttering open just enough to see the way he looks down at her. Displeased with the pity and guilt that are now painted freely in his irises, she attempts to wave a heavy hand dismissively. “I’ve gotten myself out of much shittier situations. That one just… T’ was kinda new to me. Overwhelming. Didn’t even have time to progress what happened.”

He thinks that he must talk, must comfort her through words, but nothing comes out. She’s…She’s opening up to him, he should sit and listen. Maybe that’s what she needs, for someone to listen, to not try to give her any solutions.

“Hence my…uh… little breakdown earlier.” Jina decides to keep her eyes closed for this, cheeks tingling with embarrassment at what she is dizzily trying to get to. “With everything else happening, too. It was a long night.”

Just spit it out, Jina. You’re overexplaining, it’s pathetic.

“I guess what I'm tryna say is that I'm sorry if I was too much earlier. I must’ve looked insane, I can be a bit uh…bad when things get a little too tough. I usually don’t really…um, react? I guess? I guess I just—“

She yelps, eyes snapping open when a pair of warm lips engulf hers. Her hands move to push him away, but they end up falling flat to his chest, and she could almost sob at the harsh heartbeats meeting the palm of her right hand.

Hoseok kisses her deep, like he has something to prove, and maybe he does. A hand creeps to her cheek, he needs to feel her or else he might just go insane. His body trembles a bit, maybe with need, maybe from the strain of muscles from the events of the previous day, he doesn’t really care.

“Are you seriously trying to get yourself sick?” Jina scolds when they break apart. Hoseok rests his forehead against hers, eyes closed, a frown deep between his eyebrows.

His thumb caresses her cheekbone. “Don’t… Never apologize for that again.”

Jina sighs.

“You didn’t look insane.” Guilt is clawing at his chest. “This is the sanest thing I have seen in a while, Jina. A reaction to… to something like this, you deserve at least that.”

Words are too fast in his brain, he stumbles around them, trying to say the right things to give back all the warmth she gives him. He doesn’t know what to say, it overwhelms him, and as he looks at her, now with some distance between their faces, Jina sees the emotions in him.

She sees the disbelief, she sees the buried anger, she sees the sympathy, and it really, really isn’t helping the feelings she’s trying to lock in her heart.

It makes her eyes water again. She doesn’t like sympathy. She doesn’t like pity. But somehow, having those words said back from a mouth that isn't hers, it unscrews the lid she managed to put over her wounds, leaving them uncovered and bare to eyes that aren’t hers.

And… and it feels strange. It feels straight out fucking scary.

There is a palm on her cheek, thumb grazing her locked jaw, silently urging her to relax it.

“You… You shouldn’t be going through this alone.” Hoseok affirms. “You don’t have to go through anything alone. Not anymore.”

Is she looking too much into it, or is he really—

“You can cry to me however you want. You can scream, yell, hell, I'd even let you punch me if that means that you…” He trails off. If it means you will stay, he wants to say, but this is too much of a dangerous area. She sniffles under him, eyes wide open with something in them, but he doesn’t want to be too hopeful. He swallows, bites his tongue, and opens his mouth again. “If it means that you get all of this off your chest.”

The fiery hope in Jina’s chest dies down a bit, and she wonders when it was even ignited.

“I’ll be right here. From now on, I'll be right here.”

 

 

 

Fingers tremble on the steering wheel as the car comes to a halt, the closed windows blocking out the lively buzz of the outside world. There’s blood on the leather where his fingers loosen, his fingers painted red, brown, and grey.

Jimin stares ahead of him. A shaky exhale is huffed out from chapped lips as he turns the engine off, letting his head meet the headrest behind him.

He doesn’t know what he’s doing here. It’s not like he can go in like this, let her see him in all his bloodied glory, but he just found himself driving here out of habit. Maybe he can get a glimpse of her from here, maybe he can linger outside the busy windows, try to stay hidden from her sight, but knowing his mother, she would already be looking for him there.

She took him back to the penthouse yesterday. She held him all the way there, and all through the night in the bed she sleeps in. It smelled like her, despite not having stayed there for long, and Jimin, for the first time in so long, felt like he was finally home.

It wasn’t complete without Jina, nor without Yoongi, but it was enough to mend some of his shattered pieces together. He can’t be too greedy.

They cried, cried, cried for a long time with barely any explanations asked of him, and he was thankful. Daeun tells him of Jina, how well she grew up, how much she’s keeping her old woman as safe as can be.

She tells him of the things his little sister went through as she chased their revenge on their foul excuse of a father. She tells him how much she looked for him, how many nights she stayed out, searching for nothing but a name.

A name he cowardly fought to erase, only to let grow in a whole other environment.

Daeun almost called Jina. That was pretty much her first instinct, to tell her she found her long lost boy, to tell her that she’s holding him in her hands after so, so long, but Jimin doesn’t know where the strength to stop her came from.

Maybe it’s the crippling fear of seeing the look in her eyes then. Whatever it may be, the emotion in her eyes, be it disappoinment, pitty, hatred, he doesn’t think he can face her just yet, and that’s exactly what he told Daeun.

His mother asks why, that’s where his strength seizes.

Daeun pats his cheek, teary, soft, joyous eyes tracing his whole body as if to plant him back into her memories after years of separation. She looks exactly the same, save for the few wrinkles that are added to her otherwise rather youthful features for her age. Her hair started to whiten at the roots, and a few strands even turned completely grey and he curses himself again for missing all of this.

For missing Jina’s hard-earned graduation from the police academy. Missing the twinkle in Daeun’s eyes when she finally fulfilled the dream of opening her first little coffee shop, and their proud faces when she upgraded the place to a bigger one.

He curses himself for not being there for Jina as she carries the weight of the whole world on her shoulders, for not carrying it himself instead like how it was supposed to be.

But he knew their father was a dangerous man, he proved so every day, every night they both fought, every time he had to help Jina tend to her injuries.

It always seemed to be that she was his only target. Jimin only got his fair share when he tried to defend his little sister, and he always wondered why, until he overheard a little fight between their parents one night.

That night, he had to cover his little sister’s ears, tried to distract her from behind the closed door of their shared room, but she still heard, and her eyes kept watering silently.

“You know that none of this is true, right?” Jimin asks, loud enough for her to hear him through his hands that remain plastered to her ears.

That made her lips quiver, but by then, she had started to fear crying. Daddy never liked it when she cried.

He wanted to get up and kill him right then and there, but just how powerful can a 15-year-old be? He remained in their room, held her closely, and made her count the stars out of the window with him.

One, two, three, a crash, they flinch, six, seven, “Mini, look! it’s triangular shaped!” ten, a yell, eleven…

Their voices had died down some time later, and when the bastard had already gone to sleep, Daeun carefully opened the door to see her kids all huddled up on Jimin’s bed, both of them fast asleep with Jimin’s protective body shielding his little sister’s body to the wall.

That night, Daeun wiped her tears, closed the door after she entered, and held her kids all through the night.

Truth is, Jimin heard of the arrest when it happened—save for the fact that it was his damn sister doing the work—because, as Jimin already knew, the man was in some gang, one that the mafia had kept an eye on for a while given their problematic reputation.

He remained unsurprised that this is the gang his father had belonged to. At the end of the day, scums always seem to find each other.

It was a chance he can reach out, now that they are deemed safe from the filthy, bloody grasp of such a bastard, but everything around him started to remind him of who he is now, of what he does, and there started the trail of shame and guilt that accompanied his soul for more than he could likes.

By then, Jimin had already gone past the point of going back.

He decided to let go of them for good, then. That he has his life now, and now that they are safe, they can have theirs on their own, without Jimin suddenly reappearing to put everything Jina has went through in the dirt.

Jimin looks to the side through his tinted car window, trying to peek inside, to catch anything that can bring him even an ounce of comfort. His tired gaze doesn’t betray him after a few weak tries of tilting his head this way and that way, and he finally catches a glimpse of her hair, then her smile.

This smile. It’s so carefree now, her face glows.

Jimin wishes she never caught him. He wishes he could just carry all his filth on his own, without having to eventually come clean to the people closest to his heart.

Jimin’s gaze falls back down to his bloodied, dirtied hands.

Would they be able to accept him like this?

An incoming call sounds in the car, gaining Jimin’s hazy attention. His eyes read the caller ID, he reads the name over and over and over again until he feels like he is about to go insane. He thinks he should just ignore it, that he is in no space to even talk right now, but muscle memory reacts faster than anticipated.

Neither of them speaks for a few seconds.

“Hey, Min.”

Jimin doesn’t reply.

“Tell me where you are.”

Jimin looks out of his window again. His words are barely above a whisper. “I wanted to see mom.”

Yoongi’s sigh is audible. “Do you want me to come pick you up?”

“N-no. I’m driving.” He looks away.

“Let’s meet at home, then,” Yoongi says in the softest of voices. Jimin remembers just how much he’s been missing him. “Okay?”

“Okay.”

He is driving away a few minutes later, no matter just how much his soul screamed at him to dive right back into his mother’s arms. He settles for a text to the number she gave him the night before after a promise not to tell Jina of his reappearance, telling her that he will pass by tomorrow morning for coffee. It wasn’t long before she replied, and Jimin feels a bit of warmth ripple in his cold bones as he recklessly reads the text she sends back as he drives, that she will always be waiting for him.

His other home is silent when he steps inside. He wobbly kicks his shoes off and marches for the kitchen, confirming through his little voyage that his partner is not yet home. A dirty hand runs through his hair, staining bleached hair a deep red before he realizes what he is doing.

Once he does, he only sighs at himself, too exhausted for any other reaction.

Cool water relieves his throat. He finishes a whole bottle, only realizing then just how thirsty he’s been all day. Yoongi’s gonna be all pissy when he finds out that he hasn’t eaten anything either, but that would only gain him the view of his boyfriend in an apron over a fitted button-up and slacks, so Jimin won’t complain too much about the attitude he’s anticipating.

A little huff pairs with a threatening smile, and something soothing washes over him at the thought of him.

Jimin leaves the empty bottle on the counter and shuffles to the bathroom in their shared bedroom. He hears the beeps of the front door once he enters, a sigh of relief escaping his lips as he turns the cold tab on, finally letting his blood-soaked hands move under the open stream, and he watches as the clear water turns dirty at his touch.

The metaphor stings here.

The tap-taps of feet he hears isn’t hurried. They are slow, calm, comforting, getting louder and louder, but they don’t stop at the bathroom door. A figure shuffles closer as Jimin tries to pry the fucking blood off his hands, but it’s just not coming off.

Digits gently wrap around his own, and Yoongi gives the liquid soap a few pumps with the other hand before it joins the other. Jimin looks up at the mirror, seeing a little pinch of concentration between Yoongi’s eyebrows as he massages the filth away. His blazer still hugs his biceps.

When Yoongi’s done, he turns off the tab and grabs the nearest towel to dry the precious digits before raising a busted knuckle to his lips, then another.

Yoongi pulls him closer. “I missed you.”

Jimin raises a, now clean, hand to his partner’s cheek with a weak smile. “I missed you too.”

An hour later, fresh-out-of-the-shower Jimin tiredly stares at a toned back as it smoothly moves at the motion of hands chopping something on a cutting board.

Yoongi decided against asking Jimin anything, knowing well that it would only overwhelm him, but also knowing that he will eventually talk when he wants to.

He concentrates on the task of feeding him instead, trying to tie his brain down.

“You know she looked for me for two years after she became an officer?”

Yoongi’s hand slows to a halt. He slowly raises his head to stare at the cupboard in front of him, afraid that Jimin might stop at that if he turns around to face him.

“She went through a lot, Jina.” Jimin sighs. Yoongi turns around, as slow as can be, and his gaze rests unreciprocated as Jimin fumbles with a snack in front of him, picking around but never really eating anything. “All on her own, when I should've been there. Things wouldn’t have been so bad if I was there.”

As much as it angers him that that feisty midget is the reason for his partner’s obvious sorrow, something else moves in him. Sympathy, he can call it, and it pisses him off to have to admit, even to himself, that he was wrong.

“Who knows what would’ve happened?” Yoongi tries. He keeps his voice as soft as humanly possible. “It might’ve gone wrong some other way, we’ll never really know, Min. That’s just how life goes.”

Him and his fucking realism. It doesn't necessarily make Jimin feel bad, but it is true. Fate, as much as it is beautiful, it is twisted. It can wrap around you and suffocate you, and you would still fall helpless to its merciless hands.

After staying quiet for almost a minute, Jimin mumbles. “Do you think they can accept me like this?”

“I think,” Yoongi pushes away from the counter he’s been leaning on to lean on the bar Jimin sits across. “That the three of you have been through enough shit to accept each other just as you are. It may take some time, but given everything that’s happening, I don't think Jina could be heartless enough to let you slip through her fingers again.”

Jimin can’t suppress his chuckle. “Damn, I never heard you talk of her this way.”

Yoongi rolls his eyes, pushing away again to attend to his cooking. “I have to adjust when everyone else seems to like her so much.”

“Seokjin-hyung still doesn’t like her.”

“Because Seokjin-hyung has some common fucking sense.”

“She’s my sister, you know!” Jimin’s tone is lighter now, it stretches an almost-smile on Yoongi’s lips. “If she’s still the same person I know, then we’re exactly the same.”

“You two do look alike.” Yoongi shakes his head. “Short, too. It’s fucking weird.”

“You’re literally one centimeter taller than me.”

“Yeah, and she’s a fucking midget. I don’t know how Hoseok keeps up with her.”

Hoseok’s name seems to hang in the air, then. Yoongi hasn’t spoken to, or of him since yesterday, but Jimin knows that now, in the silence of their home, they happen to share the same thought.

Hoseok got attached, and none of them saw it coming to even try to stop it.

Yoongi still doesn’t trust Jina, not near Hoseok. Any sane person would only take advantage of such attachment, they would make him tumble and fall and then stab him right in the back, but if Jina is anything like Jimin, he knows that she is anything but sane.

This is where the conflict comes.

Because he knows they’ve been somewhat involved together. He knows something is reciprocated between them, and this just proves how insane the younger Park is. He saw it in the car, the way they held on to each other, how protective Hoseok was of her, and this isn’t a sight Yoongi usually sees with just anyone.

As much as it warms his heart to see his little brother feel something else that isn’t pain, it scares him. Because this could only bring more pain, and Yoongi doesn’t know just how much more of that can Hoseok handle before he slips through his fingers for good.

If only Yoongi had listened to him back then about that damned deal, none of this would be happening.

Yoongi knows that Jimin doesn’t know as much as he does when it comes to their little gamble, he hasn’t seen the way Hoseok looks at her, the way, now that he sees it, he has been protective over the smaller woman, and he can only wonder what such oblivion could lead to when reality strikes.

Still, Jimin doesn’t know as much as Yoongi knows. All what Jimin has are speculations, suspicions, but Yoongi has seen the evidence first hand. He hears it in Hosoek’s voice at every mention of her name, he’s seen it in his eyes when he looks at her, and he fears what such things could bring.

 

 

It was a tough battle between Hoseok and sleep.

Jina had fallen asleep rather quickly after their little discourse, only managing to keep him company with little whimpers and moans of discomfort every now and then. He swears he’s heard her start snoring at some point, but that only left his worry increasing.

Hoseok holds on consciousness with his teeth and nails to help the fever down. He begins to slip soon enough, head growing too hazy and eyes too heavy. Either the fever is too stubborn, or he managed to actually exhaust himself enough to give in.

His back is leaning on the headboard with a hand in her hair, fingers shifting to scratch her scalp comfortingly whenever he is briefly aware of his surroundings.

It remains a dreamless sleep, and he is thankful for the avoidance of seeing something he wouldn’t want to see when fatigue keeps haunting his bones, allowing him a few hours of silent sleep that surely refuels him despite the uncomfortable position he’s fallen asleep in.

When something manages to nag him out of his slumber, Hoseok tries to push it away. Upon realizing that there is a body in his arms, he pulls it into him, legs naturally tangling together blissfully.

It just keeps nagging. A sound, repetitive and annoying, and the body in his arms shifts. It pushes itself deeper in his arms, and he feels its vibrations against him when a voice slips through his ears.

It whispers. “Hoseok…”

It alerts him, eyes snapping open immediately.

Their noses are almost touching. A hand is on his chest, tapping and nudging gently to pull him out of his slumber.

“Your phone.” Her eyes are still closed.

Instinctively, Hoseok checks her fever, confirming that it had finally calmed down. There is a sigh echoing in his ears, but he doesn’t know whose is it as Jina leans into his touch.

“It’s been ringing for a while.” He doesn’t know how he can ever get used to her voice like this.

It stopped ringing now, but he reaches for it nonetheless. It starts buzzing right away as Hoseok squints his eyes at the brightness. Jungkook’s ID flashes on the screen, and Hoseok closes his eyes once more as he pulls the phone to his ear.

“What—“

“I fixed the phone.” Jungkook is a bit breathless, he sounds strained. Hoseok’s body tenses. “How fast can you get here?”

Chapter 22: venti-due

Summary:

PREVIOUSLY ON OMERTÀ: (lmao)

after their practice of the devil’s tango, hoseok leaves to prepare a bath for Jina and goes back to find the gaal quite literally breaking down. he holds her through it and they take a bath together u til jina is calm and hoseok is all lovey-dovey with her when she wears his clothes again bc apparently thats a fucking kink that he has or sumn idk. they order food and jina is a little awkward as she tries to hide away the cold symptoms she has but Hoseok eventually catches on and convinces her to stay home from work the next day. she takes meds and they sleep nd jina wakes up woozy from the meds and tries ti apologize for being a mess earlier but hoseok is like smooch smooch bbgorl dont say that, and she finally kinda opens up about how she feels considering the previous events, with Hoseok promising to not let anything like that happen to her again. they cuddle and sleep and they wake up later on the sound of hoseok’s phone. hoseok answers and it’s jeongguk telling him that he fixed the phone, and he needs to go there immediately
!!!!!

Notes:

IMPORTANT!!! I changed the name for Jimin’s club to Bacchanalia, which are the feasts and parties the roman god Bacchus threw for pleasure and enjoyment. Bacchus is the roman version of the greek god Dionysus, the god of wine and ecstasy.

life update: my dog fucking died bro lmao. when i say life isn’t giving me a break i literally mean it. senior uni year starts in like a fucking week and i havent caught a singke break over summer break, but we ball!! i’m doing my best with the updates i pinky promise, pls hang in there!!

The subtle buzz of the moving car fills the silence as Jina’s insides toss and turn. 

 

She could blame it on her cold, but she knows well that her anxiety is the one to blame.  Her knee bounces involuntarily, fingers fidgeting with the tissue in her hand before she brings it up to her nose once more.

 

Hoseok shakes his head after a brief look at Jina in the passenger seat. Her eyes are sharp but still swollen, bloodshot with both sickness and sorrow. He could say that he’s partially thankful for her strained vocal cords for keeping the usually stubborn woman quieter, but he has to admit, he can’t bring himself to think that any harm towards her is good anymore.

 

But damn, she gave him hell when he tried talking her into staying in bed.

 

“You can’t be serious right now.” She gave him a dismissive shake of her head, already moving out of bed. He stares at her raising form, halting mid-movement as he pulls a sweater down his upper body with a look of disbelief on his face. “I need to be there. I’ll fucking drive myself if I have to.”

 

“Maybe take a look in the mirror and you’ll see my point,” Hoseok points in the direction of the full-length mirror to their left, refusing to believe that someone alive can be this stubborn. He watches as she ‘subtly’ steadies her dizzy form. “You literally cannot even stand straight. it’s not like I’ll hide whatever we find from you.”

 

‘I don’t know that,’ Jina bites back, giving herself a brief do-over in the mirror as instructed. ‘ I can’t trust anyone enough with this.’

 

But, for the record, she does look like shit. Red nose, hollow cheeks, pale lips—but she can’t let this slip through her fingers. She won’t… can’t trust Hoseok enough to tell her exactly what happened, not yet , nor can her anxiety wait until he comes back before it eats her alive.

 

When she doesn’t answer Hoseok, then, he kind of takes the hint, brushing the slap of it aside, deciding to not think about it for now. He sighs, leaving Jina to stumble in the bathroom while he continues getting dressed.

 

“Do you have something that would fit me better than this?” This is where Jina’s voice begins to become worse. She dries her face as she steps back out. “I look hideous.”

 

Hoseok doesn’t think so. He thinks she looks like what home could look like.

 

“I haven’t been your size since middle school.”

 

Jina deadpans.

 

“You look fine.” Hoseok reassures, biting back all it is that he wants to tell her. “No one’s seeing you except for Jeongguk anyways. We’ll come back right away.” He goes into the closet as he speaks, emerging back with two dark coats in grip.

 

He throws his in the crook of his elbow, pulling away the other from its rack to help Jina’s frame in the sleeves. “Just put this on.” 

 

Jina is thankful for the dim light because if Hoseok sees her blushing one more fucking time—

 

“This too,” He pulls a thick scarf from one of its pockets.

 

 Jina subtly bites down on her lower lip and hides the lower part of her face in the dark green-ish scarf as he wraps it around her neck, but unlucky her, Hoseok has already seen the crimson rushing up to her cheeks.

 

She no longer keeps it hidden. In the car, her features are sharper, more awake, Hoseok sees the grit of her jaw.

 

“Relax,” Hoseok mumbles, a hand leaving the wheel to settle on her knee, seizing its movement immediately. He gives her a brief look, only to find her gaze fixated on where they touch. “We’re almost there.”

 

Jina can’t relax. She lost count of just how many possibilities can occur, and only very few of them aren’t so bad. This phone can have either everything or nothing, and if everything, she doesn’t know if she’s ready to know who’s behind all of this. 

 

All her pain, all she had to endure in so little time, it could be someone sadistic that she never had the displeasure of knowing, only inflicting all of this just because she stands between them and their goal, or it could be someone she knows, or worse, someone she knows well.

 

It’s a bad habit of hers, thinking that every bad thing that happens trails back to him , but she genuinely cannot help it.

 

And she doesn’t know which case of those is worse. 

 

Hoseok’s hand squeezes her knee before he moves his hand more comfortably up to her thigh, keeping his gaze on the road in front of them. 

 

If Jina short-circuits, the only evidence is her widening eyes, and Hoseok doesn’t catch those. 

 

But she tries to relax, after. The tension under her skin begins to disperse, giving way to loose, squishy muscles that Hoseok once more gives a comforting squeeze to.

 

She focuses on the weight of his hand on her, suddenly reminded of the scent radiating off the clothes she is disappearing into, and she pulls herself more into them. The (not so) simple touch grounds her, halts her train of thoughts, and she can breathe again.

 

Well, as much as someone with a clogged nose can.

 

They arrive around seven minutes later, and the detective is ashamed to admit that she spent the past minutes contemplating whether or not she should grab a hold of his hand, imagining just how warm his hand must be in the harsh cold.

 

Seriously. She needs to figure out what the hell is going on between them.

 

Hoseok guides her into the elevator of a tall tower, one similar to the one he lives in, and it is silent once more as the doors close on them. 

 

Jina sniffles. She brings up another tissue to her nose and unsuccessfully attempts to unclog her nose once more, and Hoseok has to stifle a chuckle at the scene. 

 

“Stop staring, you imbecile.” She husks out. “It’s not polite to stare at someone when they are blowing their nose.” 

 

“Polite.”  Hoseok can’t hold back his chuckle this time.

 

She kicks his foot as the elevator dings, signaling their arrival before smoothly opening the doors. Despite not knowing which apartment is Jeongguk’s, she exists the elevator first. Being in such close proximity to Hoseok is keeping her thoughts somewhere they shouldn’t be.

 

Hoseok rings the bell to an apartment and holds Jina back by her elbow to stop her from moving further, resulting in a little ‘ ouuf’ escaping her when she hits his side. Hoseok looks down at her to catch the daggers she was glaring at him, the faintest of smiles on his usually scowling face, but the door opens way too quickly for him to have enough of her like this.

 

When he turns and meets a different pair of eyes than he was expecting, his body stiffens. He instinctively lets go of Jina, just as the gaze repositions to her, and he just has to sit back and watch the discourse.

 

But she notices the way he lets go of her. Like he’s a little boy caught with something he shouldn’t be holding.

 

Seokjin stares. Silently, openly, the man is either too confused by her presence, or just too… lost. They hold each other’s gaze for a few seconds too long until Jina has to look away to the solid figure by her side, who sighs just on cue.

 

“What is he doing here?” Jina tries to keep her voice low, but still loud enough to piss off the older man.

Seokjin rolls his eyes dramatically as he pushes the door further open, unusually quiet for the fact that he quite literally can’t stand the sound of her voice. Hoseok nudges her to enter first, following her right away while the oldest remains by the door to close it after their entry. He stops Hoseok, holding him back by his elbow, and he leans closer.

 

“What is she doing here?” Seokjin attempts to actually whisper, but the detective was still within ear-reach.

 

“My damn job,” Jina grumbles lowly, taking a step forward, her clogged nose making her sound funny. “I’m not gonna just sit back and watch some boy band deal with something that very obviously–” She gestures to her form as she kicks her shoes off. “Involves me.”

 

Jina turns around to continue her business while the two men share a look, to which Hoseok just shakes his head.

 

“I tried,” Hoseok mouths.

 

“Try harder,” Seokjin mouths back mockingly.

 

He pushes the door closed, accidentally putting too much effort so the slam echoes in the apartment.  Jina jumps, turning to stare back at him in shock. 

 

He’s running his hands in his hair, head thrown back, and he looks unusually disheveled. His tie is loose on his neck, the first few buttons of his white shirt are undone, hair messy enough for Jina to know that he’s been messing with it like this for a while.

 

“What’s going on?” Jina hears from afar as she waits for Hoseok to take his shoes off, diverting her gaze away from the oldest gangster. Turning her head, Jina catches Jeongguk’s shadow before he appears in front of them, a  confused frown immediately taking over his features the moment he spots Jina.

 

“Detective?” He mumbles, and a whole other expression overtakes him. His eyes widen, head turning to the side briefly before he looks back at them. “Oh.”

 

His gaze turns to Hoseok’s, to whom Jina turns her head, only to find a far worse expression on his face. His eyes are sharp, wide, the color in his face a bit too faded for Jina not to figure out what’s going on.

 

Or get an idea of what’s going on, to say the least, but there’s something in there she shouldn’t be seeing.

 

She frowns, and Seokjin sighs heavily in the background. Jina is shifting her gaze to Jeongguk once more as she begins to close the distance between them, and Jeongguk has no other option but to step aside when she pushes past them.

 

Hoseok calls her name, panicked and sharp, but she doesn’t stop until she’s in clear view of the living room.

 

More likely, she freezes once she sees what exactly she shouldn’t be seeing.

 

Or rather who.

 

“Oh…” She lets out.

 

Another sigh of relief sounds from behind her. It sounds like Hoseok, but she can’t seem to be able to look back and check. Her gaze is planted on the man standing in the middle of Jeongguk’s living room, features softening at the sight of her, and Jina swears she can’t take any more confrontation for the next few years.

 

“Namjoon,” Her voice comes out as soft as a whisper.

 

“What are you doing here?” Namjoon steps forwards, gazing back at whoever stands behind her. “Shouldn’t she be resting?” His face begins to twist unpleasantly. “You brought her out in the cold looking like that?!”

 

“No…” Jina puts a hand out. “What are you doing here?”

 

Seokjin scoffs loudly, Jina ignores him.

 

“Wasn’t it supposed to be ‘just jeongguk’?” She turns to Hoseok, air quoting, and she turns back to Namjoon once more before he can answer. “What is going—“

 

She cuts herself off. Her brain vaguely begins to connect dots together, and her heart sinks a little.

 

Namjoon moves to grab her forearm. “Come on, I'll take you back home.”

 

“I think Jina is grown enough to make her own decisions.” Hoseok steps up. A couple more steps and he is pushing Namjoon’s hand away before it touches Jina, settling between them. “She wanted to be here, so she came.”

 

Namjoon takes a step closer, tone dropping dangerously. “I think you should keep your mouth shut about shit that’s out of your damn business.”

 

“She’s my damn business.” The venom in Hoseok’s voice is loud and clear.

 

“No, she’s not.”

 

Seokjin sighs dramatically.

 

“Hyung…” Jeongguk whines quietly to the oldest.

 

“What am I, a kid?” Jina nudges Hoseok aside. She looks up at Namjoon , disbelief slowly forming on her face as she gains his attention once more. “I came because I’m supposed to be here. I’m the one that got that damn phone and I get to know whatever is inside as much as every-fucking-one in this damn room.” 

 

Her gaze jumps from one man to the other, strained voice getting harder and harder to let out. Her discomfort is very visible to every eye in the room when she brings a hand up to her throat. 

 

“I’m too fucking sick for school-girl banter with grown-ass men,” She shakes her head, voice lowering along with her gaze before she picks it back up to direct the next words at the trio to her left. “Which is your fault, by the way.”

 

And it is. Maybe one of them has taken the guilt a little too personally, but not a person in this room can deny just how much the woman has been doing for their sake lately. She holds Seokjin’s intimidating gaze, watching as it softens just a bit in realization, or maybe agreement before he rolls his eyes and crosses his arms over his wide chest.

 

But Jina realizes what she has said a little too late when she catches the changes in all their expressions. She sees pity, sympathy, and the woman is reminded of her piteous position between them.

 

They all know, don’t they? they have to, it’s all written in their eyes, in the way their shoulders slump, even the damn way Seokjin has been treating her since her arrival. The detective wishes she could burst in flames right this second.

 

The broken record is helplessly replayed in her fragile mind and she is reminded of it all over again. The darkness, the touches, the voices, Jina fights the urge to find a corner to curl up into and cry it out once more. 

 

Her eyes uncontrollably divert from every available gaze to stare at some painting Jeongguk has on his wall, fists curling as the room falls completely silent, drowning in fear, guilt, and shame from every party of the conversation.

 

“That’s… not what I meant,” She clears her throat, eyes fluttering closed while she firmly keeps her chin up. “I meant the cold. Because of the rain.” She opens her eyes, something invisible just pulling her to look at Hoseok as she utters the next words. “That’s what I meant. Nothing else.”

 

She’s almost forgotten. The little safe haven Hoseok has been keeping her in somehow has pushed her to avoid this, to push it to the very back of her mind, and it finally comes to bite her in the ass.

 

She turns to Jeongguk. Let’s just keep avoiding it. “Can we get to work? I can barely stand.”

 

“Yes, yes! Sure!” He realizes that his voice is a little too loud a little too late, and clears his throat awkwardly as he shuffles past his two older friends to hurriedly gesture for her towards the hallway to her right. “This way.”

 

Hoseok watches as the youngest leads the detective to a room. He hears Taehyung’s voice greeting her from inside as she enters, and he still can’t will himself to move when Namjoon throws him one last look before following his friend. 

 

Seokjin stays behind him, he can hear the man’s deep inhales. They stand there, the muffled chatter filling their ears, the silence stretching between them.

 

“Don’t feel too guilty.” The oldest finally breaks the silence. “You know it’s not your fault.”

 

“It is,” Hoseok mumbles, eyes planted where the group disappeared. “It is. All of it.”

 

“You’re getting too soft, Jung Hoseok.”

 

Hoseok tilts his head, letting his eyes fall closed for a few seconds. 

 

“We’re getting rid of her once all of this is done, anyways,” Seokjin tells him, and his eyes snap open. “Don’t let yourself get attached. It won’t feel nice.”

 

Hoseok turns. A humorless smile makes its way to his lips. “Getting rid of her?”

 

Seokjin nods casually like he’s affirming a well-known fact. “It’ll be like letting a fucking time bomb walk with the amount of info she has.”

 

Hoseok shoves his hands in his pockets. They curl into fists, tight enough to hurt. “I can’t seem to remember when exactly this was decided.”

 

Seokjin frowns, giving him a weird look. He lets his arms fall to his sides. “Because this isn’t a matter we need to be discussing.” 

 

“Who the fuck do you think you are?”

 

“What?”

 

“Because I see you throwing orders left and right, and i doubt Yoongi would order such thing when she’s literally his partner’s fucking sister ,” Hoseok whisper-yells the last part, leaning a bit closer. “Last time I checked you were a consigliere. Since when do you make decisions like this?”

 

“Have you gone mad?” Seokjin’s disbelief is clear on his face. “Don’t tell me you actually fucking like the woman.”

 

One second Hoseok’s hands were deep in his pockets, and the other, Seokjin was pushed to the nearest wall, fists wrinkling his dress shirt. “And if I do?” He growls lowly. “You’re gonna be one to talk, huh, hyung?” 

 

The oldest doesn’t reply. He keeps Hoseok’s gaze locked with his, silent as can be.

 

“It’s nothing you haven’t done before, is it?” Hoseok keeps his voice low, tilting his head to the side. “Liking a cop?” a sick smile makes its way to his lips. “You really thought you were slick, huh? What a fucking hypocrite.”

 

Hoseok is off Seokjin with one push from the other. The younger stumbles back, clear venom painting his face.

 

Seokjin fixes his shirt on his shoulders and leans away from the wall. “You never said anything about it.”

 

“Because it’s none of my damn business.”  Hoseok spits. “Just like whatever is between me and her is none of yours.”

 

“The family–”

 

“The family can suck my fucking dick.” Hoseok steps closer again. “After all of this, if someone touches a fucking hair on her head,” Hoseok points to himself. “They’ll be dealing with me.”

The room is engulfed with deafening silence. Jina can only hear the sound of her hammering heartbeats in her ears amongst the quiet chatter coming from afar. Jeongguk led her to a leather couch in the purple-lit room, and the moment Teahyung’s greetings and questions of concern were over, the air started seeming thick once Namjoon stepped a foot into the room. 

 

If Jina didn’t know better, she would’ve thought it was a gaming room. Maybe it is, Jeongguk looks like the type of person to let himself enjoy activities like that, but given that this is the room he led her to, she knows a lot more happens in this room than just gaming.

 

Taehyung stands up from the seat in front of the computer set up to let Jeongguk sit there instead. Jina watches as they share a lingering look, something silently said between them, before Jeongguk focuses on the screen in front of him. Unlike them, Taehyung and Namjoon look like they aren’t even acknowledging each other’s presence.

 

By the looks of it, it seems that everyone is waiting for Jina to break the ice. She has questions, everyone knows, and everyone owes her some sort of explanation that she just doesn’t have enough energy to ask for right now. She leans her head back on the couch while Taehyung pulls another chair to sit by Jeongguk, and Namjoon just keeps standing by the door.

 

When Hoseok enters, he goes straight to where Jeongguk is. He settles behind him, hands shoved in his pockets, and they begin talking about something Jina doesn’t catch, distracted by the darkness painting Seokjin’s features as he trails behind, feet lazy and slow.

 

Namjoon keeps his eyes on Seokjin as he settles far behind the other trio.

 

“I didn’t find anything much on here,” Jina finally picks up as Jeongguk tells Hoseok. “Nothing outstanding in the search history or gallery and only a handful of phone numbers.” Jeongguk goes on, and Jina moves closer. “I traced each of them.”She settles behind the youngest’s chair, looking down at the desk where the phone shines back at them. 

 

Beak Jonwoo only had 4 contacts saved. Mom. Hooker. Landlady. ‘Money.’

 

“The first three are accurate, but the fourth was a little tricky to get through to, meaning we found what we were looking for.” Jeongguk turns to the big screen in front of them, and a red dot pinpoints a certain location. “A burner. It’s still active, which is pretty dumb, to be honest. I don’t know if whoever has it would answer if I called or not, so I just thought I’d try once you’re here.”

 

Something turns in Jina’s stomach as she lets her eyes rest on the written address. She runs her eyes over it multiple times, her eyebrows pinching deeper and deeper in each attempt to convince herself that this isn’t where she thinks it is. 

 

Maybe she’s missing a number, or a letter. She has to be.

 

“Namjoon,” She didn’t like the panic evident in her tone. All attention is back on her as she pushes Hoseok to the side, getting closer to her source of anxiety. She looks back at her partner with wide but contained eyes, and he can tell that something isn’t the way it's supposed to be by the look on her face. He closes the distance between them as she returns her gaze back to the screen. “Does this look familiar to you?”

 

She feels Namjoon still behind her.

 

“You know this place?” Hoseok leans closer.

 

There’s a pinched expression on Jina’s face. Hoseok can’t tell if it’s panic, or rage, or both that he sees on the detective’s face as she looks at him. Namjoon steps back, a hand running down his face.

 

“That’s my team leader’s address,” Jina gestures with a hand to the screen. She looks down at Jeongguk, speaking hurriedly. “Are you sure this is it?!”

 

“100%,” Jeongguk affirms.

 

“That pretentious fucker,” Namjoon mumbles, turning his back to the rest of the group.

 

Jina’s shoulders slump, eyes getting lost somewhere beside Jeongguk’s head before she reaches out to grab the phone. Before anyone can stop her, she deflects every hand trying to grab her as she presses call, and everyone freezes when the ringing echoes in the now silent room.

 

A ring, Jina holds her breath and mutes the mic. “Please.”

 

Another, Namjoon and Taehyung finally look at one another.

 

One more, and–

 

“Who is this?”

 

“Fuck…” Jina can’t help but let out weakly. 

 

“Hello?” He keeps on talking, bitterness clear in his voice. “Answer me, dammit! Who the fuck are you?”

 

As Namjoon steps back, hands flying to his hair, Jina turns to Hoseok with an unreadable expression. 

 

“That’s him.” She confirms. “That’s Choi Siwon.”

 

None of them have the chance to react when Jina ends the call, and she just throws the piece of metal out of her hands somewhere to their left. Jungkook races to grab it off of the floor, hurrying to find out if Jina broke it again or not.

 

When they look back at Jina, she is sitting on the ground with her head in her hands. She rocks back and forth, scalp burning the more she yanks on her chestnut strands.

 

Seokjin and Taehyung rush to the computer again. 

 

“Jeongguk,” One of them call, and the youngest rushes back to his computer. 

 

“Jesus Christ…” Hoseok kneels down, hands too lost to know where to touch, halting Namjoon’s own movement to do the same. 

 

Namjoon bends back to full height, watching as Hoseok finally touches his best friend. 

 

“Hey,” He grabs her by the head to make her look up at him. “You’re not having a panic attack, are you?”

 

Her stare is…something. Now that’s a new look he gets to see on her. The wide, furious eyes. He can see the fire cracking behind their warmth, and the woman looks like she means every word she’s spitting out.

 

“I'm gonna fucking kill him,” Jina mumbles. 

 

“Hyung,” Hoseok looks up to where Jeongguk retorted. “It’s no longer active. What should we do?”

 

Hoseok opens his mouth, but the smaller detective beats him to it, looking right through his soul.

 

“Don’t do anything.” She shakes her head slightly, only enough for Hoseok to see the movement. “We can’t let him know we’re onto him.”

 

“He already–”

 

“He doesn’t know it's us,” She pushes.”Think of something else. We can’t let him know it’s us.”

 

Us, Jina says.

 

“We’ll go to work and dig. See if he’s working alone or not. We can’t just act impulsively on this.” Her voice gets firmer by the word. “Let him run like a rat in the dark that doesn’t know where the traps are.”

 

Hoseok and Jina keep looking at each other for a few seconds before he looks up at the rest of his friends. They are waiting for his order, stances ready to start moving upon Hoseok’s next words.

 

He makes sure to look at Seokjin.

 

“Do as she says.”

As Jina is driven to work, she is quiet. Despite the raging thunderstorms of rage and betrayal wreaking havoc in every available corner of her torn-apart brain, she remains as still as can be. Still features, still irises, steady breaths.

 

The driver drops her off in front of the tall building. She takes her usual route, dropping greetings here and there when she recognizes someone, but only little can tell the difference in her stride, if any at all. The detective walks a bit taller, back straight with something sharp in her steps.

 

She knows she looks as sick as she feels, so the questions of concerns that followed the greetings of her team members were brushed off with simple “it’s just a cold.”s and “don't worry.”s, but her attention remains on the empty seat where their team leader usually sits.

 

The possibility of him never showing up begins to infect her thoughts like a plague, spreading wildly, way too quick for her stomach not to twist with rage. Namjoon arrives not so long after her, and she knows he thinks of the same scenarios she is when he sits down in his seat, not a single word uttered between them.

 

Frankly speaking, Jina has no idea what to do even if he does show up. She can’t confront him, not before grasping solid strings of his involvement in the case, but she has to see him. She needs to look him in the eye as he resumes his mundane routines, she needs to dig deep and find the shit he surely has buried somewhere.

 

That can be done without seeing him, she thinks. But she needs to see him.

 

Once Choi Siwon hits the one-hour-late mark, Jeongsu is coming out of his office. Jina watches as he strides to their desks.

 

“Good morning,” He greets, and the four officers are on their feet to bow politely in greeting.  He gestures for them to sit back down as he leans on Siwon’s empty chair. “Your team leader is on sick leave starting today,” Jeongsu informs, and Jina’s breath hitches. “It's a bit serious, so it’s gonna be a few days before he comes back. Let’s have Namjoon fill his place in his absence, okay?”

 

Namjoon nods, and when no one voices any complaints, Jeongsu slaps the back of the chair lightly before pushing away from it. “Alright, get back to work.”

 

Namjoon and Jina share a brief look. Jina pulls out her phone.

 

J: he didn’t show up. Sick leave for a few days.

 

H: pussy.

J: gonna stake out by his house tonight.

 

H: don’t pull stunts on your own. we have a meeting at 6. let’s talk about this then.

 

J: don’t even try to talk me out of it.

 

H: who fucking said I was??

 

J: stfu

 

H: are you still feeling woozy

 

J: mhm

 

H: want me to pick you up?

 

J: wow right so everyone can know I'm acquainted with Jung Hoseok and blow everything up amazing

 

H: acquainted???

 

J: are we not???

Hoseok is dumbfounded, to say the least. He stares at the bright screen of his phone for a few seconds, somehow offended by the name she gives to whatever the fuck they have. 

 

Rivals? Might as well be. Friends? Friends don’t really sleep with each other that intimately, do they? Two-people-in-a-situationship? Sounds the most suitable, as long as he avoids that word, but they’re sure as hell not just acquaintances.

 

He leaves her on read and throws the phone on the desk grumpily, getting back to the overdue paperwork marinating on his desk. It hasn’t been long since he arrived, and the man is already on the verge of calling it quits. A knock sounds on his door, to which he mumbles a loud-enough guarantee of entry before he hears the familiar click-clacks of high heels against the tiles.

 

Seulgi places a large cup of coffee somewhere between the files flooding his desktop. “I arranged the meeting for tonight, and sent reminders to…” She trails off, and Hoseok looks up to find her gazing at her iPad. “Jang Dahye, Kim Chungha, Kim Taehyung, Jeon Jeongguk, Kim Seokjin, Min Yoongi, and Park Jimin.”

 

Hoseok stiffens. Fuck.

 

“Would anyone else be attending?” Seulgi looks up at him.

 

Yes, he wants to say, but the words seem to be stuck in his throat. He should have really thought it over before telling Jina about the meeting. Jimin is a mandatory attendee, he has to attend even if he doesn’t want to and knowing Jina, she would probably murder him to get to the meeting on her own if he tries to talk her out of it.

 

“Hoseok?”

 

“Hmm?” He snaps his attention back to Seulgi’s awaiting gaze. “Yes. Kim Namjoon. Ask Taehyung for his contact info and send him the location.”

 

Seulgi notes it down with a nod, before looking up at him once more. She holds his gaze silently for a few seconds as if contemplating what her next words should be. “Are you okay?”

 

Hoseok nods nonchalantly. “Why do you ask?”

 

Seulgi shrugs, carrying the gaze of a woman weighted down with thought. She steps closer to the desk. “After what happened and all… “

 

“We survived worse, Seulgi,” Hoseok chuckles humorlessly, leaning towards his desk once more to direct his focus on his paperwork. “Get back to work. Stop slacking off.”

 

Hoseok doesn’t catch this, but Seulgi’s shoulders slump. She stays where she is for a few more seconds, hands tightening around her iPad stressfully, waiting, hoping that Hoseok would look back up at her once more, but he doesn’t spare her a second glance.

 

Silently, she turns around and exits the office.

 

The rest of the day is a painful cycle of phone calls, meetings, and even more paperwork.  He stops looking at the clock after a few attempts, letting himself get consumed temporarily, only hoping that this would eventually make time flow faster.

 

Hoseok is soon turning off his computer, pushing a few items on his desk to their rightful place before he is pulling his coat out of the mini closet to the side. He slides into it eagerly as he hurries to the door, despite it only being 5:01.

 

There is a certain issue he’s been trying to go over all day, and all his efforts have fallen fruitless. He tried talking to Taehyung about it, but it only sends the younger one into a frenzy, ending the call with a promise to try to talk to Jimin about it before anything takes place.

 

Seulgi stands up from her desk to send him off, but Hoseok obliviously hurries past her.

 

He dials Jina and shoves his phone to his ear as he dashes to the elevator. It rings loud in his ear as the elevator dings at its arrival. The silver doors slide open, and almost cinematically, Yoongi is standing with his back leaning against the wall inside.

 

“Hello?”

 

Hoseok and Yoongi share eye contact for a couple of seconds before the younger one replaces his gaze elsewhere as he steps inside. 

 

“Hoseok?”

 

“Where are you?” Hoseok clears his throat, the elevator doors closing with a quiet hiss. Yoongi moves a bit to the side, putting enough distance between them so each of them stands in their respective corners. Jina says something from the other side of the phone, but the signal keeps cutting up until he can’t hear her at all. “Jina?”

 

“Elevators don’t have signals, dumb fuck.”

 

“I’m aware,” Hoseok grumbles, removing the phone from his ear to stare at Jina’s contact displayed on the screen. 

 

They stay quiet for a few seconds, each in a world of their own, letting the awkward silence stretch upon Hoseok’s wish to stay mad at the other, but Yoongi has other plans. 

 

“Are you sure they should meet in a context like this?” Yoongi wonders, crossing his arms over his chest as they finally share a look once more. “Don’t you think neither of them is ready for such a thing?”

 

“Jina won’t be taking no for an answer.” Hoseok tells him flatly. For some damn reason, he doesn’t tell Yoongi of his attempts to stop this encounter. “And Jimin is needed.”

 

Yoongi’s breathy chuckle rings in the descending elevator. It dings once more, announcing their arrival to the parking lot, and the older doesn’t spare Hoseok another word before he exits the elevator to find his car, leaving him slightly confused at the response, or lack thereof. He pushes away from the wall to exit and find his own car, glancing at Yoongi's usual parking spot, only to find him speeding away already.

 

Hoseok’s frown stays as he takes off, the ringing of the call returning as he connects his phone to the car speakers. Jina picks up almost immediately.

 

“Are you okay?”

 

“I am, why?”

 

“The call… cut off,” Jina mumbles. “What did you want?”

 

Hoseok’s frown is wiped away, replaced by the softest of expressions. “Are you done?”

 

“I’m done, yes, why? Where are you?”

 

“There’s stuff we need to talk about before the meeting. I’ll pick you up from the nearest bus stop.”

 

Hoseok readies himself for stubborn protest, maybe a no, i can get there on my own, and it is safe to say that he is a bit surprised when he only hears back a small “Okay.”

Jina lowers the phone from her ear, looking down at it as its light dies after Hoseok ends the call. She stares at it for a few seconds, something warm spreading in the gentlest of strokes upon her chest as she recalls shared moments of the previous day.

 

The detective finds her feet already taking her to the elevator, her body dragging her to where she wants to be most, before a call of her name sounds behind her.

 

She turns around at the familiar voice. 

 

“Where are you heading?” Namjoon asks, reaching behind her to press the call button for the elevator. “Need a ride?”

 

Jina gives him a brief weird look, a humorless chuckle falling off her lips. “We’re on speaking terms now?” Namjoon sends a deadpan her way, at which she rolls her eyes. “I’m meeting up with Hoseok. He’ll probably drive me.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“Mhm.”

 

Silence stretches as they awkwardly wait for the apparently slow elevator. Jina blows her nose, shoving the tissue in her pocket, catching the fidgety giant shift from one foot to the other. The elevator eventually dings and Jina is quick to jump in, thinking of childishly spamming the closing button so he doesn’t have time to come in before he strolls in and stands a couple of steps ahead of her.

 

“You know we’ll have to talk eventually, right?”

 

Jina scoffs softly. “About what, exactly?”

 

Namjoon doesn’t reply right away. Jina watches as his shoulders slump with an animated sigh, and he mumbles out. “Everything.”

 

“I wasn’t the one refusing to talk last time we tried.”

 

Namjoon turns around at that, eyebrows furrowed with disbelief. “Are you really gonna pin this on me?”

 

“Yes, Namjoon.” Jina snaps truthfully. Her voice slightly shows the emotions she feels as she speaks up one more time. “You kicked me out. I was literally begging you to hear me out and all you had in your head was reopened wounds that had nothing to do with me.” Namjoon falls silent at that. The gaze they share is of disappointment and understanding, they both know Jina is right. She huffs, shoving her hands in her pockets to look at the now-opening doors. “I’m not dumb, Namjoon.”

 

Namjoon only sighs as she pushes away from the elevator wall to walk out. 

 

As much as he has nothing to reply with, Namjoon is as concerned as can be. He knows Jina is a strong individual, he knows she can, and had been handling more than her fair share of whatever the universe continuously throws at her, but he is sure as hell that no one can go through everything she’s been going through the past few weeks and stays sane.

 

It’s partially his fault, not being there for her due to his clouded judgment, but he knows better than to dwell on spilled milk, so, he naturally finds himself picking up his feet to follow his smaller friend before she makes it out in the cold.

 

As he scans his Id to exit, Namjoon catches the sight of Jina standing a few feet away from the exit doors with her head bowed down, a shaky, white-knuckled hand wrapped tight around her phone as it blares right up at her.

 

He approaches her carefully, a call of her name falling on deaf ears. A touch on her shoulder is enough to feel just how taught her body is, and the woman stays frozen, void of any reaction as she keeps staring at the screen of her phone. Namjoon gets close enough to look at the screen over her shoulders, and as his eyes roam over the text bubbles, he realizes exactly why Jina is having such a reaction.

 

‘I know where your brother is.’ One says, sent from a private number. ‘Park Jimin, no?’ The second says, with a location attached to the third bubble.

 

Wide eyes turn to him in slow motion, and she doesn’t even have to say anything before Namjoon is pulling her out of the building.

The ride is quiet, deafening silence only filled by the occasional buzzes of Jina’s ringing phone, at which she doesn’t even look before she silences it. She can hear her heartbeats in her ears, too loud and too harsh in her chest for her to hear or feel anything else. 

 

She appreciates that Namjoon doesn’t try to make any conversation, only settling for quiet looks of concern over at her every now and then. She sees him from the corner of her vision, sees how his grip occasionally tightens on the steering wheel, but she can’t bring herself to look anywhere but the asphalt the car is speeding upon, getting them closer and closer to what could be a sick trap, a great disappointment, or the biggest relief of her lifetime.

 

She’s glad Namjoon was there. If it were to be a trap, she thinks she might’ve just given up and let whatever waits for her eat her alive willingly.

 

Jina’s brain roams over endless possible scenarios that are ready to take place in just a few more minutes. Would he even recognize her? Would she recognize him? It’s been so long after all, would he even be willing to see her? 

 

She calls herself greedy as she fantasizes about the possibility of them staying in touch again, he must have his own life now, right? There might not be any space left for her and their mother anymore. 

 

How would he react when he sees her all grown up? Would he pat her head and tell her how good of a job she’s done for getting rid of Youngjae and keeping their mom safe all those years? Would he even care ?

 

She subconsciously picks at the skin on the side of her thumbnail, eyes wide with hope and terror and panic as the navigation signals that they are almost at their destination. Namjoon silently reaches over to place his larger hand over both of hers, halting her movement when he notices the skin turning an unearthly red.

 

“I’ll be fine.” Namjoon mumbles, despite his silent concerns, and he begins to feel restless as they approach their destination from afar. 

 

He thought he recognized the location when Jina first punched it in, but now that they’re here, and seeing her reaction as he parks somewhere miraculously empty in the busy Itaewon, he knows something isn’t right.

 

They have to walk for a bit. Some sort of fear begins to creep up on her, walking the same street she did only a couple of days ago, but she only settles for shoving her hands in the pockets of her coat, secretly moving a bit closer to Namjoon, who takes notice of her movement, the realization downing on him like a bucket of ice.

 

Jina’s eyes are frantic as they jump from one face to another, silently praying not to recognize anyone, yet hoping to recognize similar features to hers before reaching the place her mind is telling her they’ll end up. 

 

No, she thinks. Hoseok got rid of them. Nothing is going to happen.

 

Namjoon moves to her right as they pass by the alley she got trapped in, blocking her sight with his bigger form as they pick up their pace. 

 

Her phone isn’t beeping yet, doesn’t say they arrived at the given coordinates, and panic upon panic, Jina starts running.

 

She avoids the crippling feeling of someone following her, as much as it threatens to eat her whole, and she helplessly paces around, following the pale arrow on her phone desperately with Namjoon in tow. 

 

The ground underneath her feet keeps getting more and more familiar, having taken this route more than once until the phone finally signals their arrival.

 

Namjoon halts behind her, both of their gazes up, following the length of the taller building, a neon pink sign proving all her fears right.

 

Bacchanalia. It reads.

 

“Fuck.” Namjoon lets out under his breath.

 

Jina doesn’t hear him. The only thing echoing in her head is the sound of her blood dizzily rushing up to her head and the overwhelming smashes of her heart against her rib cage, and the woman doesn’t even bother to focus on anything else as she marches forward. 

 

The guards upfront don’t stop them upon entry, barely even giving them a second glance. Music blares, still low and pleasant with only a countable amount of guests lurking around inside, given the hour. 

 

Jina feels her phone buzz in her hand. Bringing it up to look at it, her gaze only zeroes on the new text from the same private number, completely unaware of just how many times Hoseok tried to call her.

 

‘He’s the owner, but he sure knows how to hide . Look well.’

 

“They’re watching me,” Jina mumbles as Namjoon grabs the phone to read for himself. Jina’s eyes roam the area, up, down, left, right, and all around as she tries to pin where the texter might be, confirming that her brother, if he is here at all, he isn’t on this level.

 

Jina snatches her phone back from Namjoon. “There’s a brothel on the upper levels,” Jina says, wide eyes still looking around hurriedly, never meeting Namjoon’s. “I know he won’t be in the office, I was up there before. I don’t know what they do with the rest of the building. I don’t even think they’ll grant us access if we go up.” She finally looks up at him, shoving her phone in the back pocket of her pants. “But I know the rest of Ssangdue are where the meeting will be held. I can go ask for help–”

 

Jina halts mid-setnace. She stares up at Namjoon with wide eyes and parted lips, and Namjoon can almost see the lamp lightening up inside her brain.

 

“They know?” Her features morph in disbelief. Namjoon stays silent. “He… He owns the place?” It clicks, and Jina’s chest hollows, wide eyes big enough for terror to swim freely. “He owns the fucking place?”

 

This is where Ssangdue gathers, Jina knows for sure. She’s seen it before when she crashed their meeting before.

 

He owns this? Jimin owns it?

 

Jina isn’t aware that she started gravitating towards the route she remembers woozily from that night until Namjoon calls her name, trying to hold her back by her elbow. The determined woman doesn’t even budge, shaking the strong grip away like it was nothing, scarlet bleeding on her vision.

 

She practically jumps down the stairs and into the elevator, unaware of the familiar face waiting for them by the buttons until he climbs into the box after Namjoon, pressing the button for -4 before giving Jina a respectful bow.

 

Jina recognizes him beyond the vision of crimson as one of the men she had to break out of the warehouse only a couple of days ago. Does he know too?  Is this some kind of sick joke? Her mind starts to rumble and stutter around the now less pleasant scenarios in her head, barely containable in her wide, void eyes until she feels the elevator comes to a halt.

 

Mingi? Was it Mingi? He exists first, followed by Namjoon, and she watches as they take a sharp right. She leans back on the cold metal behind her, chest heaving with a weight she might as well have never had to bare before. The familiar tune of the inner glass door unlocking echoes around her, somehow way louder than she wants anything to be right now, and she realizes that Mingi must’ve come down here to unlock it with his handprint for them to enter when she sees him walking right back.

 

He gestures for her to follow her companion politely, and she wonders just what kind of sick joke this is once more.

 

She’s a bit dizzy as she exits the elevator.

 

“Isn’t it too early?” Seokjin’s voice booms. “What are you doing here now, Namjoon?”

 

However, Namjoon is rendered speechless. Not because of the look his old lover gives him, not because his two old friends stand up from their seats like they saw some sort of ghost, but because of the eerily familiar-looking fourth attendee, one he doesn’t have the chance to stop his partner from seeing when she suddenly pushes past him, eyes immediately falling on him like there was no one else in the room to look at.

 

“Jina…” Jimin whispers, shock paralyzing his body where he sits. Glass shatters, and he soon realizes that his glass has slipped helplessly from his hand. 

 

“Jimin?”

Notes:

i would say im sorry for the cliffhanger but im really not lol. please leave kudos and ur feedbacks!! if there’s any area of improving, i’m always eager to grow in it!! tysm for reading as always!

much love, j xx