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── ❝ 𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑷𝑻𝑬𝑹 𝑺𝑬𝑽𝑬𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑬𝑵」
❝ 何も恐れない; .(NO) FEAR ❞
KARMA NEEDED TO GO OUT. She was getting more than enough money from her contract with Taehyung for her to sit her pretty little ass down and not lift a single finger to work. Depending on how long this went on, she'd never have to pickpocket a day in her life again. She could be living in luxury off the bloodied money Taehyung deposited into the account he had made for her every week.
And for a little bit, that's exactly what she did, lounged around lazily while The King paid his visits to his kingdom. But she found that it was boring within the confines of this castle. For one, she wasn't used to all the space, to waking up on silk sheets alone, without the warmth of Yoongi wrapped around her. She wasn't used to having nothing to do. She needed to work, she needed the adrenaline.
Karma was a nightcrawler heart. She thrived in that environment.
So one day, while Taehyung was away and she was left on her lonesome, Karma decided that she'd go out and run her game. Not at The Playground, but along the streets where it swarmed with drunken people who were more focused on having a good time than keeping their possessions safe.
She kept her clothes plain, with the intent not to draw attention to herself unlike in clubs where she needed that attention to bait the hook. Her eyes kept being drawn to the large shirt she had tucked away in her shirt drawer. One of Yoongi's shirts. In all honesty, Karma didn't know why she took it with her even after their argument. Maybe it was to comfort her in a way, to know that a part of him was here with her. The first few nights she had curled up with said shirt, a reminder of home.
And then she tucked it away, never to see the light of day. Fuck you, Yoongi. That's all she could think. His words were a harsh, but much-needed reminder that he was still a man and that men will say whatever they need to to make women feel like shit for doing that they have to. Even if he didn't mean it, the fact that he even thought of it. That he let those words come from his lips.
He deserved that slap. He deserved it a thousand times over.
Her skills had become a little rusty over the week and a half she had spent within the confines of the penthouse, but the moment she was placed in her natural element, it all seemed to rush back to her. Karma missed the blending neon lights that illuminate the night. She missed the pungent smell of alcohol and sick. She missed the sense of euphoria she had running down the crowded streets with her partner in crime.
But she was alone and that was perfectly okay. All she truly needed was herself but that didn't mean it didn't hurt.
By the end of the night, Karma went home with her pockets stuffed full of rings, bracelets, and watches, all gained by a simple bump, a charming smile, and some skillful sleight of hand.
