Warning! Contains mentions of death/violence.
A part of you knew that whatever you were doing, was what you shouldn't start in the first place. You stared at the man sitting in the almost empty coffee shop, unable to tear your gaze away for a long while.
The page you opened on your phone showed something that should give you the biggest of concerns, and every time you glanced at it, your fingers itched to call the police, to let them know that a criminal they're looking for is literally in front of them, sitting unarmed in a coffee shop like any other young person could do.
But in fact, it wasn't the first time you were itching to do that, and you definitely should do that with how many times you've come to see him in the past weeks.
Yet, the attraction you felt prevented you every single time.
You would always look up at him, and your wish to do anything about it would suddenly dissolve, exchanged with some sort of lethal curiosity, and you'd feel a strong need to act on it, to stand up and sit next to the man, ask him something as silly as weather, and deeply memorize every word of answer he'd grace you with.
What a wanted mafia member would say if asked about weather?
You forced yourself to glance outside. In fact, the weather was really nice. It was early evening, with the sky slowly covering in red hues, with the shadows getting longer and longer, with the warm light barging into the small space of the shop without a sign of remorse, through the inviting glass that covered its whole wall.
Orange shades fell upon the man's face, and only then, have you noticed that he finally reciprocated your stare, silently observing your movements, which had your breath stuck in your throat for a moment, before you forced an awkward smile onto your face, but at which he didn't even flinch, his eyes swallowing your whole composure, ripping you apart and open to his own curiosity.
You slowly reached for your phone, but a small head tilt you noticed made you quickly resign from the idea. Had he figured you out? After years in this field, he should have. Such ability was probably what saved his life all along, and without such perfect instincts he wouldn't survive for so long, unnoticed by the police even though the coffee shop was literally on the opposite side of the road as the police office.
You forced air into your lungs and then held it there, slowly reaching for your phone. Without sparing it a glance, you put it in your bag, quickly zipping it closed in a clear statement. I mean no harm.
The man only kept staring though, not letting you know that he acknowledged it in any way, obviously distrustful, which you couldn't really blame him for. The gaze grew heavy, and you felt yourself trapped in it, as if it put some kind of weight on your already strained shoulders. Lack of comfort was disturbing, and it pushed your curiosity aside, giving you a new wish: to just get out of there as soon as possible.
You drank the last bits of your coffee, and then stood up, hanging the bag over your shoulder and holding onto it as if you were holding onto your sanity. You stared down at the tips of your shoes as you threw the empty cup to the nearby trash can, quickly stepping in the door's direction.
As soon as the door closed behind you, you heard it open again, soft, almost inaudible steps following your nervous ones. The presence stopped right behind you, making your fingers clench around the bag's strap.
"I-I won't tell anyone" you quickly announced, not daring to look behind, yet clearly aware of who it was behind you.
"Ah, so."
You felt an urge to shrink, to curl up into a ball that would be considered harmless enough to just leave alone.
"I-I'm sorry..."
"For what? Watching me for all these days? You don't know a sorry is not enough to make up for stalking. It's a crime, haven't you been told that before?"
He knew.
"As an office worker, you should know that much, [F/n]."
He knew... more than you'd ever expect him to know.
It was a fact, you've noticed him sometime ago, and you always felt tempted to follow him wherever he went, your curiosity peaking every time he appeared, excitement rushing through your veins when you learned to predict his tracks, because he often used the same routes.
Yet, you'd never think that just as you watched him, he watched you, too, learning about you, figuring you out to find out whether you were a threat to him.
"P-please, don't kill me" you whimpered.
A short laugh echoed behind you, but this time, it sounded almost genuine.
"You're freaking out so much. Cute." His words mocked you, clearly not caring much about your state. "You're pretty... chaotic as for someone who's been playing with fire for so long. Did you really not think you may get burned if you keep doing it?" His breath hit the nape of your neck when he came even closer, and you flinched at that. "But I know your type" he added with contempt. "Have you heard that curiosity killed the cat?"
He emphasized the word "killed", surely not by accident.
"Meow" you answered blankly, almost slapping yourself right aftermath. He probably just thought you're making fun of him. Except for the noise was automatic, you didn't really think it through, your brain heard cat and the stress seemed to have completely messed up your brain cells.
To your utter surprise, the man burst out with laughter.
"Seriously?" Even though it should sound threatening, he seemed genuinely amused with you. "Chill out, you'll get a heart attack if you keep stressing this much." He leaned, hovering above your shaking frame. "I'm actually somewhat flattered. For once I'm being followed by someone who's not trying to get to my throat. Though, who knows. "His hand ghosted over your waist. "Maybe you're just trying to get to my pants instead?"
You flinched when his fingers brushed a small piece of your exposed skin there, where your shirt lifted up a bit. You turned around, backing away in panic.
"Oh, don't fret. My interest in you only reaches as far."
A small smirk graced the corner of his lips. He stepped towards you, and you automatically stepped back, trying to keep the safe distance.
"But I was honest when I said that curiosity killed the cat."
His words made you back away even more.
Straight onto the road. Straight into the way of a racing car. A loud bang echoed in the empty streets.
Yoongi stared for a short while at the blood splashed on the darkening pavement, the car driver's frantic attempts to save your life, and your wide eyes, fading so fast, as he'd seen many other people's do before in his life.
"Unfortunately for you...
...satisfaction won't bring it back this time."
