" 'Stalking' is such a strong word. I prefer 'intense research on a certain individual'.~"
"Y-you... Hyung, it was y-you all along."
"Yes, it was me. But there's no need to be afraid Yoongi, you're with me now.~"
"Y-You're fucken insane!"
"Shhhhh..I...
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"Jin Hyung wouldn't do that. He wouldn't. Right?" ...
[A DAY BEFORE THE CALL, 3RD POV]
Yoongi woke up with a sore throat and a sore bum this morning.
The pale male had been screaming for help after Seokjin whipped him and locked him up in a room that was very uncomfortable.
The walls where baby blue and everything was either girly colors or pastels. Yoongi wasn't the type to like or even more wear such colors.
Not to mention the clothes he found in the dressers. They were full of skirts, shorts, underwear, high-socks, baggy pastel sweaters, and much more.
Yoongi couldn't even search the closet besides the bed because he was too disgusted. Seokjin couldn't possibly force him in those clothes. Right?
Yoongi got up from the floor, groaning; the pain on his lower back and bum ached.
His stomach grumbled from hunger, but Yoongi just ignored it. Jin had brought him food yesterday, but Yoongi rejected it.
He couldn't trust the male. What if he put some sort of drug in it? He'll drug him again, Yoongi wasn't taking any chances.
The mint head brought his hand up to touch his sore throat.
"S-Shit." He voice came out raspy, dry and almost voiceless.
He swallowed some saliva to wet his dry throat as he slowly pressed his back against the wall in the corner. His brown orbs stared blankly at the locked door.
How the hell am I going to get out of here? Yoongi thought to himself. His eyes trailed their way towards the small clock on the wall. It read 6:53 am.
[YOONGI POV]
How did things even come to this? What is going to happen to me? More importantly,
What the fuck am I suppose to do now?
I can't scream for help. It never worked yesterday, maybe the walls are sound proof.
And I can't call anyone for help either. Who knows where the sick bastard has my phone.
I can't run away, or escape. He'll whip me again.
The only thing that I can think of is to call the police, but... if I'm gonna do that I'll have to play along with whatever this is.
I have to play along. That why I can make him trust me and let me out of this damn room.
I hate this. All of it. I never thought he would hurt me like that—no like this. He's ruining me. He'll slowly break me apart, I'm sure of it.
He won't be satisfied until I break completely and lose my sanity. And he'll be there to watch.
He's watching me. He's was always watching me from the very start. What more does he want?
