Cursed Fate

Chapter 24- the start of something

(Y/N) POV:

I sighed, seeing the inevitable argument that would happen no matter how much I tried to avoid it, I seemed to have rotten luck sometimes.

Yuna was standing there glaring at me, ire and hatred in her eyes and a poisonous twist on her scarlet lips. I shuddered looking at the thick coat of red paint on her lips, I'd always hated red lipstick. The moment her eyes lit up with a vicious intent, I knew that she was there for me and soon my words proved to be true as I tried walking past but she and her lackeys intervened, blocking my path.

I sighed deeply, trying to remain calm even though Yuna had a way of riling up even saints and I knew from the look on her face, I knew innately that she was up to no good. I'd seen that expression many times; it was a cruel reminder of a figure from my past, but I did try, try to see the human in Yuna.

"Yes Yuna. What is it that you want?" trying and failing to keep the exasperation out of my tone.

"What I want is my boys back." She spat, eyes narrowing in hatred.

I tilted my head to the side, unfazed by her towering over me.

"Your...boys?" I asked, words drawn out.

"Yes. MINE! The ones you've put your filthy hands on. Bangtan was mine, they are mine. They belong to me. Who are you to come in our way?!" she said voice rising with a manic hysteria.

"They're not yours. They're not anyone's. They're not belongings Yuna." I retorted feeling anger spark in me at her addressing them as possessions, new shiny toys to play with.

"You whor—" she spat but I cut her off.

"Listen Yuna, you're not their soulmate. Everyone knows your soulmate is gone and I truly feel sorry for you, but this isn't healthy..." I said, truly feeling pity for how derailed she'd become.

My words were cut off with a large force jerking my head violently to the side, her hand furiously colliding with my face.

My face felt like it was on fire, a burning sensation that stung my cheek as it throbbed violently. I lifted my own hand to cup my cheek, in disbelief that Yuna had resorted to violence rather than talking like a civilised being. I could hear murmurs from the few onlookers who'd stopped in shock at the sound and sudden action.

I clenched my jaw, struggling to keep a lid on my anger that was threatening to bubble and boil over.

Yuna looked pleased, anger not yet gone from her eyes, but I was pissed.

"I tried to treat you like you were civilised, but you just had to go and do that." I said, voice dropping lower as I stepped closer to her.

I saw a flicker of doubt in her eyes, but she remained haughty and cruel.

"You're calling me civilised, me when you're the reason you're an orphan and alone." She spat, reopening all the wounds that had slowly begun to heal, tearing them open and rubbing salt viciously into them.

I faltered; how did she know so much about me? Who was she?

She smirked, triumphant.

"Poor orphan (Y/N). No-one will love you; you don't deserve love." She crooned, the words stirring up ghosts from my past, red lips twisted viciously, so hauntingly similar to words that plagued my sleep.

I tried to will away how broken I felt, I tried to tell myself Yuna was just twisted and horrible because of having suffered. But it was getting harder and harder to believe the lie I knew I was feeding myself.

"Yuna you don't have to be the person you are." I said, but my voice sounded weak even to my own ears, fight having left me.

She stepped closer, bringing herself closer and closer to me, long fingers coming to tightly grip my face, fingers digging into the throbbing skin of my cheek.