𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐅𝐈𝐀 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏-𝐒𝐈𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 || 𝗕𝗔𝗡𝗚𝗣𝗜𝗡𝗞 |

𝗫𝗜𝗜

Your body clung to the bed, as if sinking deeper, melting into it like a lifeline. Darkness enveloped the room, but two pairs of devilish eyes pierced through it, watching you intently. The winter night stretched on, heavy with shadows, as rain pattered against the window-a reflection of your heart, each drop like a torrent of emotion pouring from within.

The nightmare gripped you tightly, your eyes shut, body tense, desperately fighting against the chains of trauma. But the agony wrapped around you like a cage, the key tossed away, trapping you in a helpless state.

"Gosh, she's pathetic," a low, mocking voice echoed in the darkness, laced with cold amusement. Another voice sneered, "Look at her, she's a mess-nothing like that tough act she tries to pull."

"She acts all invincible, but it's so easy to break her down," the first voice chuckled darkly. "True, hyung, she's even easier than we thought." The third voice joined in, his handsome face twisted into a devilish smirk, eyes glinting with malice.

"E-eomma... pl-please... ah-ah, please," you whimpered, the sound raw with pain, like a wound laid bare. The small, broken cry only seemed to fuel the three figures, darkening their smiles as their eyes sparkled with something sinister.

"Let's show her what happens when she messes with devils," one of them murmured with a vicious thrill in his tone.

"Jungkook, don't let your guard down," the older one warned, his voice laced with a hint of something deeper. "She's a devil in her own right when she's awake."

Jungkook's smirk grew. "Don't worry, Jimin. We wouldn't waltz into a lion's den without a master plan." Taehyung spoke, backing him up, "We've got this. No chance for backfire."

But beneath his dark facade, Jimin felt a flicker of hesitation-one that he buried quickly, fearing even a whisper of weakness. He knew better than anyone that this was a necessary step, a punishment for someone who'd dared to cross them. And yet, something in him felt a tug, a faint echo of the protector he used to be. The brother who looked out for those he cared about.

No. He couldn't let himself go soft, not now, not after all they'd endured to be here. Any tenderness would be a betrayal of his own purpose, his strength.

But the conflict simmered quietly, like a whisper in the darkness, even as his resolve hardened. "No matter what, I'll show her what pain tastes like," he said, his voice steady but shadowed with an ache only he could understand.

__

You

Sunlight hit the windows softly as the afternoon sun climbed high in the sky, casting its light across the room. I sat at my desk, working on my computer, checking emails and tackling tasks that needed to be done before the busy days ahead. I took a painkiller to dull the throbbing in my head, hoping it would help me focus. As the computer screen loaded a new site, I waited patiently, staring at the blank white screen. But as I waited, my mind wandered into thoughts I wished I could avoid. I wasn’t the person I wished I could be.

I wasn’t the happy person everyone saw, but I wasn’t just a sad, broken woman either. I was strong, powerful, fearless yet I was hurt, fractured, and utterly alone. I felt pressured, like I was expected to grow up too fast, to be someone I wasn't ready to be. It was as if I was living a life that didn’t fit, wearing a mask of strength that weighed me down every day. Inside, I felt useless, a disappointment, just a second choice—a person no one really cared about.