reef knot

three

December 2, 2016, 6 p.m.

I hear footsteps behind me just as I round the corner into Third Avenue.

Dad must have sent Yoongi to come after me.

Sighing internally, I decide to ignore the mint-haired boy, continuing to walk forward without once looking back.

I need to be alone.

Speeding up my footsteps, I round another corner into an alleyway, before turning left and then right again as I approach an intersection.

Hoping that I've lost Yoongi, I slow down my pace so I can hear what's behind me.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Oh gosh he's still here.

This time, I sigh out loud, stopping in my footsteps and turning to face my follower. "Yoongi, please-"

I start to say, but cut myself off when the face and figure in front of me doesn't belong to my green-haired bodyguard.

My heart almost stops.

The pink-haired boy - Kim Namjoon, as Dad called him - starts to advance towards me, with a smirk on his face. Gulping, I start to backtrack, silently cursing myself for walking into such a desolated street.

The boy continues to walk towards me, his forehead and the corner of his mouth bruised and already starting to swell.

Seeing my fearful expression, his smirk only widens, and his pace quickens.

Just as I turn on my heels, preparing to make a run for it, I bump into a block of muscle, and look up to see a raven-haired stranger. The smirk on his long face mirrors Namjoon's, and his tanned arms grab mine before I can react, muscles flexing as he tightens his grip.

Shit.

"Park Jiyoung," the raven-haired stranger calls my name, smirk extending into a small grin as his black eyes rake my body. "For a guy with a heart as black as coal, his daughter sure is pretty," the boy leans forward, taking a whiff of my hair.

I flinch, struggling in his grip as he buries his face in my brown locks.

"Strawberry," the stranger's tone is gentle as he identifies the scent of my shampoo.

"Let me go!" I shriek, ignoring his assuring whispers.

"What are you going to do with her, Hoseok?" I hear Namjoon ask his partner from behind my shoulder, ready to catch me in case I actually managed to escape Hoseok's grasp.

"What do you want from me?!" I yell, continuing my attempts to pry his arms off me.

"Shh," Hoseok whispers into my ear, "We won't hurt you as long as you follow our instructions."

Even the four-year-old children from the kindergarten wouldn't believe that crap.

Lifting my leg, I bring it down hard onto his right foot, grinding the sole of my shoe into his bare skin. He should have known better than to wear slippers - holy hell, who would even wear slippers out onto the streets on a cold winter night?

As expected, Hoseok exclaims in pain, letting go of me and hopping onto his left foot as he soothes the pain on his right.

I push him away and make a run for it, praying to God that Namjoon cares more about his friend than me.

However, it appears God is taking a nap and is unable to fulfill my wish.

The pink-haired boy quickly catches up with me, grabbing my shoulders and turning me around to face him. Before I can react, he raises his left hand and brings it down hard onto my right cheek. "You bitch!" he swears.