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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As days went on, I mostly stayed in my bedroom, only being pestered when food was ready. It had only been two days since the debacle, and Mikhail still wasn't back from wherever he was. I still hadn't received word from Yoongi either to let me know that Mikhail had went through with his ambush.
I began to think that Mikhail truly was bluffing— in reality, he had no idea where I went, and was simply claiming he did so that I would have given him more intel on exactly who it was that I was meeting with.
One thing remained clear— Mikhail had suspicion that this person I had been meeting with was likely one of his most detrimental opponents, which only engendered him to act quickly on this, locking me away as if it were to ever stop me from sneaking out again to see Yoongi.
I hadn't yet learned my lesson, and the tattoo on my body wouldn't stand as a reminder of who I belonged to. I was tired of the despondency I invariably felt, I would deracinate the despair from my life, and attempt to hope for a change that Yoongi promised me with. A change that he claimed he would make happen soon. Sooner rather than later, according to Yoongi.
I wouldn't allow my imprisonment to dictate my mess of emotions any longer.
I paced my bedroom, waiting for the right time to sneak out of my bedroom, and meet up with Yoongi— as he promised he would wait outside to take me from my capture.
No curfew would matter to me this time around. Mikhail was no longer here, and Jeongguk...
Well, Jeongguk.
I couldn't trust Jeongguk any longer.
He attempted to talk with me throughout the two days that had gone by, but I refused to even spare a glance at him, even when he begged for my attention with ploring eyes, his hands pressed together in prayer, wanting me to give him the chance to speak, and explain himself.
I never allowed it.
I was still caught up in the complicated emotions of betrayal. So much, that I couldn't even fathom having another conversation with him. Who was to say he wasn't going to be recording our discussion for Mikhail to hear?
I wondered if all that I told him made it's way back to Mikhail.
I wondered if all the time we spent with one another wasn't to make me feel better, but to get closer to me all for intel that he could then feed to Mikhail.
It angered me the more I thought about it, sitting on the edge of my bed and checking on the time once more, waiting for Yoongi's message.
My foot tapped the ground impatiently, worrying my lower lip as I tried to distract myself with other things. With thoughts that would facilitate my frustration.
My mind went over to Yoongi.
The sudden bliss I would inevitably feel when I embraced him, and finally allow myself to pour my emotions to him. I hadn't yet told him about anything. About the betrayal caused by Jeongguk, about the tattoo— still wavering on that because I knew what he would say.
