Invisible Strings of the Hearts || MYG FF

Chapter 42🔞

(18+ chapter, a long one, detailed. So if you feel uncomfortable then please skip and if Not then what else? Enjoy my dirty gurls!
Take Hobi water and namjesus, bless you)

LEENA'S POV 💍

The cool Parisian air whipped against my face as I squirmed on my husband's shoulder, the bustling streets blurring into a sea of blurred lights and murmured French. I felt like a disobedient child, though my irritation was not entirely genuine. i always pisssed him of on purpose but i don't know what changed today?

"Yoongi, put me down!" I hissed, trying to wriggle free. My voice was muffled, but the frustration was clear in every twitch of my body. The more I squirmed, the tighter his grip seemed to become. He walked with a determined stride, his shoulders stiff with a mix of anger and something else that I couldn't quite place. His possessiveness was almost palpable, like a storm that hung heavy in the air.

His silence only fueled my confusion. He had always insisted that he felt nothing for me, that our relationship was merely convenient, yet here he was, parading me through the streets of Paris like some prized possession. The glances from passersby were unrelenting. I could feel their eyes boring into us, their whispers a backdrop to our tense drama.

As we approached our hotel, the grand facade looming ahead, I felt my cheeks flush with embarrassment. The stares from onlookers were like hot needles poking at my skin. I dug my fingers into his shoulder, trying to find some leverage as I continued to struggle. The crowd around us only seemed to amplify the tension, making it feel like the whole city was watching our private showdown.

When we reached the elevator, I made one last desperate attempt to escape. I bit him sharply on the shoulder, hoping the pain would make him relent. "Yoongi, let me go!" I pleaded, my voice cracking with frustration. The elevator doors slid open, and I could see the shocked faces of the hotel staff as we entered.

He didn't flinch. Instead, his grip tightened even more, and he looked at me with a mix of anger and something else that I could only describe as fierce protectiveness. His eyes, usually so indifferent, were burning with an intensity that I hadn't seen before.

"Stop biting me," he growled, his voice low and edged with frustration. "You're not making this any easier."

I stopped struggling for a moment, my breath coming in short, ragged bursts. I was both frightened and exhilarated by the rawness of the emotion radiating off him. "Why are you doing this?" I asked, genuinely puzzled. "You've always said you feel nothing for me."

"didn't i already tell you, you're mine elysium?"

The air between us was thick with unspoken words. I could feel his heart pounding beneath me, his emotions a tangled mess that I couldn't quite decipher.

When the elevator dinged and the doors opened to our floor, he finally set me down, but his hands lingered on my arms, his grip firm. "Because I don't like sharing," he said, his voice rough.

I stared up at him, my confusion mingling with a new understanding. The battle had shifted from one of defiance to one of raw, unfiltered emotion. The hotel's quiet opulence seemed to pale in comparison to the intensity of the moment. His gaze softened just slightly, and I could see the vulnerability behind his fierce exterior.

We stood there, the tension between us hanging thick in the air. For once, words felt inadequate to describe the complex mix of feelings swirling around us. All I knew was that in this moment, despite the embarrassment and confusion, something fundamental had shifted.