방탄 소년단
"That... gash," I muttered, my nose rumpled in disdain - and sympathy for the man - as I studied the newly developing scar on his right eye.
It was fresh, the skin that surrounded the vermilion wound was puffy and distended, as if it just hap...
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I struggled trying to find a hiding spot for the phone. I couldn't leave it beneath my pillows as Maude would often tidy up the bed, organizing the rows of pillows and plushies. It was therapeutic to her, even when I made my own bed, she would redecorate it and make it to her liking, which, was somehow always better than how I had it before.
I couldn't leave it in my drawers— especially not with the weekly deep cleanings my room receives from the two women.
I wanted to roll my eyes in pure disdain. This probably made me seem like a complete spoiled brat, complaining about the work the maids of the house were obligated to do. And so, as I paced my room, thinking of where I could hide this phone in my bra, I stopped by the books on my nightstand.
Books that were already in my room for pure decoration. It would take some tedious work, but there was no other place I could think to hide this phone.
With painstaking and meticulous work that nearly left my fingers aching, I cut open a square hole in the middle of the pages, carving out a hole that would allow the phone to fit snugly between the pages without causing an obvious bump or protuberance.
I gave the book a quick shake— making sure the phone would stay in place before putting it right back in its place between the other sets of books that remained tidy on my nightstand. I would sleep with the phone right beneath my ear in any case. On the nights I was to receive calls from Yoongi, I had planned to stay awake.
This was one of the days I would need to stay awake. It was Wednesday— one of the days he vowed he would call, and I was to answer as quickly as I could. I will admit I was rather paranoid.
For a few things.
For one, I was horrible at staying awake so late. Once it was past midnight, it was like my eyelids instantly became too heavy for me to carry, and I'd give in to that desire for sleep like a siren's song— leading me to my inevitable demise.
Luckily, I was a very light sleeper.
However, after midnight, the house typically went silent. The walls weren't particularly thin, but the guard who was to stand at my door all night would undoubtedly hear my muffled conversations on the phone. I would need to speak in a thorough whisper.
I went over all the possible outcomes if I was caught owning a phone and speaking to someone in the dead of night. I went over what I'd tell Yoongi, how I would keep myself awake in time for his call, and all the little things that set my mind aflame like an inferno— hot with all these casualties I may face if my behavior was ever detected.
My mind would not rest, these incessant thoughts pelting my brain with more possible consequences. Especially now that Mikhail was gone, and I was locked away in my bedroom, only exiting for the food that was prepared by Sonia. Jeongguk wasn't around, so I had nobody I could speak to who would make the time pass.
