Step Brother ®

🦋☆. gala .☆🦋

Y/N

                  
The previous night passed without incident. I returned home with my new dress, satisfied. However, I had to shower upon arrival to erase all the bloodstains. I even had to hide my chest from Danie to prevent him from seeing and asking questions.

Tracing the faint line of my scar nestled discretely between my breasts, I reflect on the eerily cold sensation of Taehyun's blade. It's a mark most would never notice, but its presence is a stark reminder of a past fraught with pain.

As I silently ponder over it, I realize Taehyung's eyes never caught the subtle indentation on my skin. Even when his eyes were burning my skin. The intimate proximity of his knife to my old scar had unexpectedly churned up a tide of long buried, harrowing recollections I thought I had forgotten. Flashback of myself as a toddler, a flashback that make me feel sad and terrified. But why? I don’t know.

The reflection that gazes back at me is framed in the soft illumination of the makeup vanity mirror's bulbs, a gentle embrace casting warmth upon my features. My fingers, skilled and sure, add a swipe of rouge to my cheeks, sharpening the pallor of my complexion into vivid relief.

A subtle smirk curls my lips, echoing the daring in my veins. I'll use Taehyung's hovering vigilance as a weapon, wielding it with a sly grace. The buzz of this decision sends a thrilling shiver down my spine.

Carrying this secret adds gravity to the act. I'm attracted by the thrill of danger like a moth to the flames. My reflection stares back at me, one last scrutinizing look, and I rise from the chair, the sound of the chair's legs scraping the floor merging with the quiet around me. In this secluded space, I have transformed, and tonight, I emerge anew. I want to play with him.

As I walk down the giant staircase, each step is filled with a mix of nervousness and excitement for the night ahead. Dressed in a gown that unveils my curves, I'm met by a young woman in a dress that shows she's working at tonight's event, her young face barely hiding her unease. Her smile, made to look nice for guests, can't fully cover up a fear that mirrors my own secret worries.

She leads me to the start of the main room. Before me, the space opens up, filled with elegant people and quiet talk, smelling of gourmet food. I look around at the important people there; even though I'm not an expert in powerful connections, I can tell that the some are important. The arrangement of the tables reveals hierarchies and associations, as prominent flower decorations oversee discreet yet significant conversations and clandestine scheming.

My mother and Hwan come up next to me, showing off their wealth and control. For a bit, I'm just another pretty thing on Hwan's arm, saying hello to those who smile with their lips but not their hearts. I act the part, speaking sweetly, looking around playfully, my face showing calm politeness. A lingering sensation creeps over me as if unseen eyes are fixated on my every move. It's an unsettling awareness that there are observers hidden in the shadows, their gaze leaving me with a palpable sense of scrutiny. Or maybe just one.

Something inside me tells me to look around the room, and there, in the corner of the room, is Taehyung. Grand in his silence, he's the mystery in all the fake happiness, watching me. The inked serpent on his skin, stretching expansively over his chest, commands attention, especially as it peeks out beneath the casually unbuttoned shirt, left intentionally open for an effortlessly laid-back effect.

As the grand hall swells with the murmurings of the elite, I try to fade into my chair. Hwan's booming voice cascades over the attendees, each word measured, each pause calculated to hang anticipation in the air.