BTS ~ 𝘚𝘦𝘰𝘬 𝘚𝘰𝘯𝘺𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘢𝘯 || Seven Deadly Sins || Mafia AU

nine.

Minji's pov.

After Namjoon had left me to get acclimated to the room, I sat on the bed, wondering what the fuck was happening. I thought I felt something towards Hoseok, and as much as I hated that factor, I was happy that it was him I felt the affection towards. But, after Namjoon's sudden confession occurred, I wasn't sure how to feel. Namjoon was the one who made the ultimate decision to capture me and make my life hell. He was my main captor, the thing stopping me from living my life. I couldn't feel like that towards him. But he was a tempter, that was true. I never wanted to fall into a case of Stockholm Syndrome, and if you'd given me a gun with one bullet when I first got captured, it would've gone through Namjoon's head for sure. Now, as much as I still wanted to get out of the place, It wasn't terrible. The boys were't treating me as a victim, and to be completely honest, at most times, I would feel more uncomfortable in my own home. My father wasn't compassionate and always treated me as another worker. Everything at home seemed too in-line and work heavy. But it was my home, it was where I was brought up. It was where I belonged.

Right?

I made my way to the closet in the room, only to find it completely full of jumpers, shirts, jeans, leggings, dresses and anything else I could want. I picked out a top and joggers and rolled my eyes to myself, smiling. I was seriously debating if this was a bad thing. Of course, there were people trying to kill my dad, but... new clothes? I laughed, knowing I was kidding, but I raised my eyebrows at the thought. The fact that new clothes made me so happy really made me wonder about my life. I had everything I had ever wanted when I was with my father as well... so why was getting it here so different? It felt so much... better? I brushed the thoughts aside as I went to the bathroom, locking the door after me and turning on the shower. I opened the cabinets to find them full of essentials too. I removed the clothes I was in and put them aside. I reminded myself to thank Hoseok for the clothes, since I didn't even ask him before. It was when I was getting into the shower that I realized I hadn't heard any music in days. A day short of a week, in fact. It then hit me. It had been six days since I was in my own home. I let the hot water run down my body for a few moments before attending to my black stomach-length locks. Almost a week.

When I was dressed and my hair was up, I made my way downstairs. I knew that there was a piano around somewhere; I remembered seeing it when I was exploring the building. After half an hour of entering room after room, I discovered the music room, which was across from the ward. I entered and closed the door gently behind me. There were a few guitars in cases on the right of the room, leaning on a sofa. At the end of the room there was a piano, and I smiled as I rushed towards it, sitting at the instrument with my back to the door. I put my hands onto the piano. The feeling of the keys felt foreign, even though it had been only two weeks maximum since I'd played. I pressed down on one, the sound echoing beautifully throughout the room. The piano was obviously played quite often - the worn out look of the piano told me that - but I hadn't heard anyone play the whole time I was in the house. I began to play one of the tunes I had taught myself as a child, the tune simple but the sound beautiful. When I finished, I proceeded to play my favorite piece, Moonlight Sonata by Beethoven. The piece almost played itself. I smiled while playing, remembering the notes from muscle memory and the hours of practice I had done when first learning the piece. My smile stayed on my face as I finished the song, and I closed my eyes, listening to the echo of the tune bounce around the room.

"I didn't know you played," I heard a voice from behind me, and I turned around, startled by the presence. Yoongi walked towards me, pulling a chair over. "My Grandfather taught me," I said softly, as he looked at the piano. "You're good," He said, his deep voice mingling and harmonizing with the tune I could still hear the echo of. "Do you mind?" He asked, and I shook my head, switching positions so he was sitting at the piano. He began to play something I hadn't ever heard before, and as he played, his whole aura became one with the music. He seemed like a different person playing the piano, like he wasn't worried about anything, like he didn't have a room full of weapons in his home. Like he was just... Yoongi. I smiled as he closed his eyes, continuing to play. He still played amazingly. It was just him and the music. As he finished, he opened his eyes, almost forgetting I was there. "That was beautiful, what was it?" I asked after a moment. He smiled slightly. "Something I wrote. I called it 'I Need You'. I even wrote lyrics, but they aren't good," He said. I smiled at the Underboss.

He was a big softie with a hard exterior.

"Can I hear them?" I asked, and he shook his head rapidly. "I- I can't sing," He stuttered quietly, and I laughed a little. "I don't care what you sound like. I just want to hear the words." He pressed his lips together for a moment in thought before he got up from the piano and walked around to a table beside the sofa. "Here," He said, handing me a sheet, with scrawly writing on it. "I'll play, you sing," He said, getting ready at the piano again. "Oh, no, it-" "I don't care what you sound like," He cut me off, mimicking my words. I smiled as he began to play. "I'll tell you when to come in," He said softly. I nodded nervously. I saw him smile a little. "Don't be nervous. It's just you and me," He reassured, and I smiled at him again. He nodded at me and I began to sing the words. I had somewhat memorized the catchy tune, so the words flew out of my mouth like I had known them my whole life. I sang along quietly, reading the words from the sheet, and I felt Yoongi's eyes shift from the piano to me a few times. I smiled as I got to the final part of the song, feeling confident enough in myself by then.

'I need you girl, why am I in love alone, why am I hurting alone?
I need you girl, why do I keep needing you when I know I'll get hurt?
I need you girl, you're beautiful
I need you girl, you're so cold
I need you girl. I need you girl.
I need you girl. I need you girl.'

Yoongi looked at me with a large smile on his face. He was bursting with emotion. He genuinely looked so happy. It made me smile in reaction. He was the scary mafia underboss I knew. But he wasn't. That was Yoongi. That was Yoongs. I laughed at the nickname I had given him in my head. "That's exactly how I pictured it to sound," He said smiling, and I looked away shyly. "Oh, shut up," I replied.

"You must've really been feeling when you wrote this," I mentioned, looking back down at the words. He shrugged. "Not all songs have to be about personal emotions," He replied, his eyes shining with a passion for music. "Do you like it?" He asked, and I was taken aback. "Do I LIKE it?! Yoongs, it's amazing," I said, looking back up at him. He laughed at the nickname too. "Yoongs. I hate it. It makes me seem soft," He laughed, and I smiled back. "You don't have to have a hard exterior all the time. It's bad for you. You need to let people see both sides of you. You can't just be Namjoon's Underboss, or one seventh of Bangtan Sonyeondan. You have to be Yoongi sometimes too," I said to him. "I don't know if I can be just me, Minji. It's hard. It's so much easier when you have a place, when you know what you are and what you're doing all the time," He admitted quietly, as if he was scared I was going to judge him. I put my arm around the boy and rested my head on his shoulder. "How do you think I feel, huh? I'm one to say I know exactly where you're coming from. Let's just be ourselves together, okay? No hiding behind alter egos. I'm Minji. I'm twenty two years old, and I sleep with my favorite stuffed bear," I laughed, and he chuckled softly also. He continued. "I'm Yoongi. I'm twenty seven years old, and I write songs about love, even though I've never experienced it before." I came away from his shoulder and looked up at him. "I haven't either, not properly. And you know what? That's okay," I admitted. "The best form of love is self love," I continued. "And you should learn to do that before you can love others."

Yoongi smiled at me, tilting his head slightly. "I sure do have a lot to learn about you, Minji."