If You Love Me

Chapter 4 - Uninvited Guest

You had felt helpless — almost at a loss for words even, as his dark, hooded orbs stared into yours, forcing a shiver to dance down your spine much like the breeze on a bone-chilling autumn night.

Returning the gesture, you stared at him, dumbfounded — as to how he hadn't spilled a single word on your previous encounter.

The same encounter you have yet to apologize for.

Perched against the counter, hand propping his chin consideratly, a glint of amusement glimmers in his eyes; because he knew...

He knew that this was way to good to pass up.

"This is going to be much more fun than I thought." His tongue washes over his bottom lip, as he continued observing you sift through the large stack of papers piled on the desk faster than he could say your name.

"Lee Y/N...?"

"Here are your keys sir. Just sign these wavers here," You squeak, finger pointing to the dotted line without realizing you were now in his personal space. "And... Here?" You trail off, gulping hard as he smirks knowingly, taking the oppertunity to wrap his hand around your wrist tightly.

"Wouldn't cross this line if I were you." He points to the inked line suggestively, allowing a dry chuckle, "Didn't your mother ever warn you about men?"

Your blood runs still.

Beads of cold sweat sliding down your back, and face loosing colour with each passing second, you took a step back, scared.

What the fuck did you get yourself into Y/N?

The ebony haired man grins cynically, rising from his seat after having enough of toying with you — for now.

And without a word — not even a 'thank you' or a bow — he walks off, figure dissapearing as he traveled up the stairs to his room-to-be; which was directly above yours.

❈

Night.

Yoongi had always hated this time of day. The darkness, the mystery — it was a constant reminder of those pieces of his horrible past; his sister sobbing in the comfort of his arms as objects slammed against the walls, yelling sounding from the adults mouths, cussing each other.

Every time the moon casted its icy lighting on his features, he had felt as if it was mocking him — mocking his pitiful existence.

He shuddered as a the cool breeze washed over him, the unwanted memories becoming set on haunting him — lips craving to take a sip of the mauve liquid.

And so he did, the zesty acid burning his throat. No, he wasn't an addict — more like he drank the bitter liquor occasionally; to soothe the pain no person could.

A temporary distraction.

Besides, who could he turn to anyways? He was alone — a runaway from the luxurious life he had possessed before.

He sighs, a tap coming from the front door — disrupting him from his thoughts. Groaning, he sets down the wine glass between his ringed fingers, placing it delicately on the small coffee table by his side.

And all he wanted was some time alone...

He rolls his eyes in annoyance, "Yes?" He drags indolently, grabbing his laptop only to rest it on his thighs comfortably — not even bothering to check who the culprit was.