hostage; bts [old]

4

If you see any mistakes, don't be afraid to point them out.

☆

Two weeks. It's been almost the same, only they have stopped torturing me as often as they used to. Maybe to let my body heal, but I don't know. It's odd just being able to roam freely around their place without being told I'll get punished.

I think it's getting to me too. I miss seeing Taehyungs irritated face when I don't answer him and Jungkooks confused glare when I take a punch and smile. Their expressions helped me push through, but it did something to me. 

From the fridge, I take a protein bar, knowing none of the boys really eat them. As I unwrap the bar and close the fridge, I turn to see Jungkook opening a water bottle.

He takes a sip and gulps it down, his lips forming into a twisted smirk.

"I really miss seeing you suffer," he says, walking towards me at a slow pace, before placing a finger on my jaw, tracing it delicately.

I smirk, "Really? Because I miss being tortured by you."

The statement catches him off guard, but he regains his composure with the same twisted smirk, running his thumb over my lips.

"Don't say things like that darling."

He wraps a hand gently around my neck, pushing me softly against a wall.

"You don't know what I'm capable of doing."

His voice is low and raspy, making goosebumps rise on my skin. I love it.

"I really want to find out," I whisper, tugging at his shirt to pull him against my body.

Our faces are centimeters apart, and I can feel his warm breath hitting my lips, making my heart race.

"What's going on here?"

We both tense up and turn to the owner of the voice: Yoongi, the second oldest of the boys. His cold stare bore into Jungkook, making the maknae move away from me slowly, fearful of his hyung.

"We were just messing around," Jungkook responds to the question asked by the man standing before us.

Yoongis eyes turn to me, and I immediately look at the floor below me, scared shitless.

"Come with me," he simply says, and I obey, afraid of making him even angrier.

I silently follow him to my bedroom, where I walk in with him following behind and locking the door. I sit on the mattress and cross my legs, taking a bite of the protein bar still in my hand.

"I don't know what you two were up to," the man says, his voice low and tired-like. "I just know Namjoon won't be happy with it."

A shiver runs down my spine at the mention of the tall man and leader of the group. Sometimes, he'd act strangely gentle to me, other times, he'd join Taehyung and Jungkook with their torture. He's a mystery and very unpredictable.

"You don't seem to like that idea," Yoongi whispers, crouching down in front of me and lifting my head from my chin to look at him.

His lips twitch into a smirk before it returns to his signature frown.

"Don't worry, I won't tell him." He pulls out a pocket knife from his back pocket, "just tell me a little something of who you work for."

He points the tip of the metal blade at my chin, the smirk appearing on his face again, making him look more sinister.

"No," I mumble, mirroring his smirk.

With a scoff, he grabs the hair on the back of my head, placing the blade against my neck.

With a soft chuckle, I lean my head back into his hand.

"Will you really kill your only source of information?"

His grip on my hair tightens and he puts more pressure on my neck.

I purposely gulp, causing the sharp blade to cut my skin. Yoongi notices and quickly removes the blade, letting me go as well.

"Namjoon won't be happy with this," I mimic his threat, placing a hand over the cut to slow the bleeding. 

The man gives me a sharp glare before grabbing my arm and pulling me out of my room, leading me to Jin's room.

He opens the door to the room and pushes me inside.

"What happened-"

Jin gets cut off by the slamming of his door as Yoongi leaves. The older man sighs and turns to me, his eyes widening at my bloodied hand that lays over the cut in my neck.

"Jesus Christ," he hisses, pulling me onto his bed to sit and runs to his bathroom for his med-kit, which he had to replace almost daily. He rushes back with the white box and a wet towel.

"Remove your hand," he demands in a whisper, and I obey, letting him examine the injury.

"Aish, that kid needs help," he mumbles as he wipes the dried blood from my skin.

"We all do," I say, but only to earn a hard pinch from Jin.

"Don't speak," he snaps, "I can't tell how deep it is with all the blood."

I give a small nod and close my eyes to feel his fingers glide around my neck carefully as he cares for the cut, a small smile forming on my lips.

What the hell are you doing to me Jin?

☆

There might be a double upload on Wednesday (;

Love you ♡