What caught Namjoon's attention first was Jimin's eyes; soft brown eyes that held a story. This story was of a past filled with hate, loathing and torture.

Next, Jimin's smirk; that little trademark seductive smirk that made all the men and woman in the room drool over him.

Next came Jimin's skin; smooth, pale and plump skin that Namjoon wanted to just reach out and touch.

Jimin's body was the last thing that really drew Namjoon in; the way Jimin's movements were sensual and slow, teasing almost, when he danced. The way his hips would move to the beat of the music, the way he would simply glide across the pole and slide down it with such ease and grace...Namjoon was sure Jimin was a descendant of a goddamn angel.

Namjoon felt a surge of possessiveness overtake him when he saw the hungry looks the other men and woman in the bar were giving Jimin, almost as if they were wolves and Jimin was the sheep.

Namjoon would show them who the real Alpha was...

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