Hoseok: That's why they call me Master, sweetheart. Now it's your turn. Say it.
Yoongi: If you want my help that badly, you need to give me something in return. Something I can't get anywhere else...
Namjoon: If they want to take you back, they have...
You climbed the cliff, pressing yourself against the small ridge. Heights didn't bother you. The view of the world below gave you a sense of peace. For once, it felt like you owned the world, and not the other way around.
In the midnight, there was nothing to see but shadows, but that was all you needed.
Everyone knew that the Rebellion lived just beyond the forest. You could hide on the cliffside and wait. The moonlight gave enough glow to show you who was passing through.
Sooner or later, they would come.
Nevermind how many stories there were of men and women cut down by the hand of the Rebellion. Even the stories on top of those stories - slaughtered guards, poisoned food, destroyed buildings, and burned carriages.
Many opposed the emperor. The Rebellion was the only group to go up against him and live.
They might not listen to you, but you'd take your chances. It was the only way to get Jungkook back.
If the Rebellion was as against the emperor's harsh rule as they said, then there was a chance they would help.
And besides... you had something they could use.
Suddenly, there were six shadows riding across the hills on horseback. You could barely make out the sound of the hooves, as if even the horses knew they needed to be silent.
You watched until there was neither a sound nor a rustle. There was no way to tell where they had gone, but their tracks were still fresh.
It was a quick drop down the cliffside and a steady run across the lavender fields into the forests. The cicadas were loud as always, but better a summer cicada to block the sound of your steps than the autumn leaves to give yourself away.
The horses' hooves were silent, but not invisible. You tracked them through the forest, going deeper and deeper into the trees until everything was nearly black. The tree silhouettes stood strong in the moonlight, but the tracks faded as you went in further.
Townsfolk always said that the Rebellion was cloaked in the devil's darkness. Maybe they were right.
Suddenly, the world turned upside down and you were looking up at the stars.
And also, to a man with a sword at your throat.
His eyes were as dark as the sky behind him. He smirked down at you.
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"This is a very dangerous place for you, sweetheart," his gravelly voice hummed, dark as the shadows around his face. "Haven't you heard the rumors? I went through an awful lot of trouble to spread them."
You looked at the sword pointed at your throat, then back up at your attacker.
"Are you part of the Rebellion?" you asked.
A single dimple showed as he brightly smiled. "What makes you ask that? Shouldn't you be asking me to spare your life instead?"
"If you're the Rebellion, I have something for you. If you're not, then you should plea for your life instead."
He cocked his head to the side. "Bold words, darling. But even in the darkness, I can see your fingers tremble."
You gripped hard into the ground.
"Why would you risk getting slaughtered for an audience with the Rebellion?" he asked.
"If you're not the Rebellion, I have no reason to tell you."
He chuckled, not removing his sword from your throat. "Then I have no reason to tell you whether or not I'm part of the Rebellion."
You looked up into his eyes. "If that's that case, I suppose I'll have to go find someone else."
"Who said I'd let you live?"
You blinked and smiled. "Who said I was asking for your permission?"
You hooked one foot behind his ankle and kicked his hip with the other. He fell to the ground, just long enough for you to spring to your feet and dash through the trees.
You heard the rustle of his feet behind you. Then they were to the side. Then the front. He stood before you, his arms wide in a taunt.
"Don't start a fight you can't finish, my dear."
You brought your hands up to your face in fists. "Same to you."
His eyebrow twitched as he smiled. He leapt for you, but you dodged the attack. You scraped the tree beside you, hissing as the bark tore your skin. He advanced again, throwing a kick towards your face. You blocked, then hooked your arm under, pushing him back. You wanted him to fall, but he maneuvered out of it before it worked.
"You know a few take downs," he commented, "but that won't help you against me."
He threw a double kick this time, landing the second kick in your shoulder. You yelped, but jumped in with a palm strike to the chest. He absorbed it, barely wincing, then locked your arm behind your back. He spun you so that your back faced him, his breath against your ear.
"Good try," he whispered, "but you might as well surrender. I'm the best there is."
You elbowed him to the gut, then spun around and grabbed him by the neck. Bending him over, you kneed him in the stomach and ran. You heard him grunt, then laugh, his footsteps following.
The world turned upside down again.
He straddled you, peering down into your face. He pinned your arms to the sides. You tried to buck him off, but he stayed on top of you, his knees firm in the earth on both sides of your hips.
"You fight well," he said. "Not as good as me, but well enough. Where did you learn?"
You glared at him, not answering. Regardless of the fact that he had just stuck a sword at your throat, his eyes were playful and keen, like a cat playing with its supper.
He raised an eyebrow at you, then laughed again. "Alright. You've convinced me."
"Convinced you of what?" you replied. "I didn't say anything."
He rolled off you and pulled you up by your wrist. "Come with me."
He lead you to a horse, and jerked his chin to tell you to get on. You hesitated.
"You wanted to be taken to the Rebellion," he said. "Don't tell me you've changed your mind."
His eyes glittered at you again. There was something playful and seductive about them. Something daring you to follow him.
What other choices were there?
You got on the horse. He jumped up, nestling himself right behind you. The fabric of his robes brushed against your arms, his chest pressing up against your back. You shifted forward, but his hand snaked around your waist, pulling you back into him.
"Don't try escaping from me now, sweetheart," he whispered in your ear. "I guarantee it won't go well for you."
"My name is Y/N," you replied. "Not sweetheart."
"Your name doesn't make any difference to me, darling." He grinned. "You're the property of Jung Hoseok now."
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SOUNDTRACK: 403 by Drug Restaurant
Let's be honest - Hoseok is one of the sexiest men alive. Once he gets on stage, he owns you. We're all his property.
