His hostage || Yoonseok ||

Chapter 22 - Hoseok

It's been a couple days since the thought has popped into my head, it's all I think about. 'Has someone hurt him?' Jin told me I should not ask about it but Yoongi has been very quiet and kept away. It's quite depressing honestly. It's hard to get anything done when he is moping around constantly.

I look up and watch as he looks out the window, he looks... Scared? Have I finally made him terrified, I hope so. Things are much easier if they fear you. He turns and catches me looking. I turn away immediately and focus on my papers.

"Hoseok? Can you hold me?" he asks. I sigh, I guess he doesn't fear me after all. "Fine" I grumble. He waddles over and climbs into my lap. I wrap my arms around his torso and lean back into the chair. "You have been silent recently." I say with no emotion. "I guess..." he mumbles.

"Want to tell me why." he hesitates before speaking. "I keep thinking about home." that's normal. But why now, maybe it's just hit him that he was taken hostage. "I don't want to go back." what. I stare down at him in confusion. "What?" I ask. "I don't want to go home." I blink a couple of times with a dead expression. Why not. Why does he not want to leave? This is not good.

"Shouldn't you want to leave? You realize you've been kidnapped right?" I ask. He nods his head. "I know but..." he sits for a few more second before getting up. 'What is he doing?'

He bends over and wiggles off his big sweater. Once he is up correctly, revealing to me many many marks. Once he turns around I stand up. Now I understand why Jin is furious. I walk up to him slowly. I Pat his head and close my eyes.

Crouching down to meet eyes I ask, "who?" sternly. He bites his bottom lip and avoids eye contact. Removing his lip before it bleeds I ask him who once more. "I'm sorry sir." he drops to his knees and pleads repeatedly. I buzz for Namjoon as I pick him up. Namjoon rushes in and has me lay yoongi down. "He's having a traumatic breakdown." he tells me.

He gives him a shot to help him relax. "What the hell was that about?" I ask. "I don't know, but I'm guessing it has to do with all those scars." I agree. Whoever caused this will have a slow and painful death.

But who?