It doesn't take Jimin long to decide that sitting in one of the Black Rabbit's lavish suites twiddling his thumbs isn't how he's going to be able to spend the rest of his night. A part of him doesn't want to leave the comfortable safety of the hotel room, but it should be alright to go down to the casino for a while. Maybe he can turn the five dollars in his pocket into something more substantial to buy himself a drink.
Or maybe he should just stay away from the roulette wheel tonight.
The casino is exactly as it was the last time he visited—too bright, too loud, too crowded. It's an eerie comfort that no matter what sorts of violent changes Jimin's life experiences, the Black Rabbit will remain the same. A ceaseless, sleepless snake eating its own tail.
Jimin roams the casino aimlessly, and he finds it much easier to blend in. At school, it's always a game of chicken to avoid eye-contact with the oncoming person in the hallways. It's much easier to navigate traffic without being noticed when casino patrons are much more focused on themselves and their games.
He spies an open spot at a table nearby and cautiously steps up to spectate. As soon as he realizes he isn't the only one watching, he relaxes. A few people appear to be engaged in some kind of dice game. One of them rolls a pair of dice onto the table, but seems disappointed by his roll. The dealer, a woman in a glittery gold vest over a white dress shirt, uses a stick to collect a few stacks of chips from the board. Jimin tries to puzzle out the rules, but it's a lot more complicated than roulette.
He's so utterly focused on the game, he isn't paying any attention to the other patrons at the table until a hand presses against the small of his back. At the first quick glance Jimin makes to his left, all he catches is dark hair and a powerful build. But it isn't—It isn't Zodiac. It's someone else.
Before Jimin can excuse himself or ask what the guy wants, the hand slides up his back, and then the whole arm hooks around his neck, tugging him closer to the strange alpha. He is alpha, his scent gives off as much. But it's odd and muddled, and Jimin can't tell what exactly he smells like.
"Zoey told me to keep an eye on you," the guy stage-whispers far too loudly into Jimin's ear.
"Zoey," Jimin says slowly. "You mean Zodiac." The arm around his neck tightens enough to choke him when the guy bursts into giggles.
"So you've met him?"
Jimin tries to nod, but the chokehold won't allow him to. "Tonight."
"Even if you've met him, you haven't really met him," the guy whispers. "I think the only people who've met him are fucking dead."
As much as Jimin would like to skirt around this tidbit of information, the implications are clear as an unmuddied sky.
Zodiac has killed people.
"And you work for him?" Jimin asks, astounded by the steadiness of his own voice.
The alpha snickers again, still too close to Jimin's ear. "What a smart little cookie you are," he coos. "Should I give you a treat for being such a good boy?"
A low growl builds in Jimin's throat. He's had just about enough of this guy. "Get your fucking hands off me before I cause a scene."
While he isn't released, the alpha does slide his arm down to Jimin's waist, as opposed to keeping him in a headlock. He pushes his nose into Jimin's neck, inhaling a few times. "You should come get a drink with me, kitty," he says. "So I can keep an eye on you easier."
Jimin freezes, not knowing how to respond. This alpha isn't an enemy, per se—he works for Zodiac, so he knows Jeongguk—but Jimin can't ignore the alarm bells ringing in his head. His instincts warn him to be cautious. This isn't a man at the restaurant making a poorly attempted pass at him. This most likely isn't a pass at him at all; just a display because they're in public.
