"You monster!" she yelled, her voice trembling with rage and desperation. "What did you do to my father?"
Taehyung gripped her shoulders and pressed her against the couch, hovering above her. Y/N struggled, cursing him for her father's condition.
"A...
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It was a crisp evening in St. Petersburg, Russia. The air held a delicate chill, the kind that hinted at the onset of winter. Y/N strode purposefully through the cobblestone streets, her breath forming soft clouds in the evening air. Her hand was tucked snugly into the deep folds of her black wool coat, the fabric swirling lightly around her ankles as she walked.
Y/N's attire was both practical and elegant, a reflection of her understated style. She wore a charcoal-colored scarf wrapped snugly around her neck, complementing her sleek black coat. Her dark hair cascaded in loose waves around her shoulders, catching the ambient light from the street lamps and creating a halo of mahogany hues. Her features were delicate yet striking-high cheekbones, a slender nose, and lips that held a subtle hint of a smile, framed by a touch of crimson lipstick.
Her eyes, the color of stormy seas, scanned the familiar streets with a mix of curiosity and anticipation. They were framed by long lashes that fluttered occasionally against her porcelain skin, giving her an air of quiet contemplation. Despite the chill, a faint flush adorned her cheeks, a testament to the brisk walk and perhaps the thrill of being in this enchanting city.
In her hand, she cradled a steaming cup of Russian Winter Blend coffee, its rich aroma mingling with the scent of frost and distant fireplaces. The cup was adorned with intricate patterns, a souvenir from a local artisan that she had grown fond of during her time in this city.
As Y/N continued her evening stroll, the lights of St. Petersburg began to flicker to life, casting a warm glow over the cobblestones and ornate facades of the buildings. The city seemed to come alive with a mystical allure, its history and secrets woven into the very fabric of its streets.
A smile tugged at Y/N's lips as she turned into a quaint corner and pushed open the door of a little restaurant tucked away from the bustling streets. The cozy interior welcomed her with warm hues of amber and crimson, wooden beams adorned with twinkling fairy lights that cast a soft, romantic glow. Tables were draped with checkered cloths, each adorned with a single candle that flickered gently against the window panes.
The aroma of hearty Russian cuisine mingled with the faint scent of spices and freshly baked bread, creating an inviting atmosphere that enveloped her senses. Soft chatter in a mix of Russian and English filled the air, accompanied by the comforting hum of soft jazz playing in the background.
