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

twenty three.

Minji's pov.

It must've been about four in the morning when we arrived back. As soon as we got to the mansion, I emerged from the van. The boys weren't standing at their usual waiting place at the door. I assumed some of them were asleep. Instead of heading towards the main door to go into the building, I ran out onto the front lawn, lying down on the grass before looking up at the sky. I couldn't comprehend what had happened. I wanted to cry more, but no tears were forming. I was just staring blankly into the dark void.

"Minji, it's cold, you should come inside," I heard a voice say from behind me. "Go away Jungkook," I replied without looking at him. I heard a sigh and footsteps before I was in immersed in silence once more. After only a few moments, I was interrupted again by more footsteps. I rolled my eyes as I sensed someone sit down next to me, but still I didn't look away from the night sky.

"I yelled at him."

I turned to my side, lying with my face to the man.

"Tae, go away."

Instead of moving, he lay down the same way as I was, facing me.

"It wasn't right. He regrets it, Minji. I know he does."

I scoffed at his remark.

"Regret doesn't bring someone back from the dead, Taehyung."

He smiled sympathetically. I think it was the first time I had seen him do such an action in such a soft way. He said nothing, but he didn't avert his gaze from me. It was just us, lying under the sheet of stars, looking at each other as if we were in some sort of drama. I felt a droplet of water on my face. Then another. It started raining on us. Not heavily, just enough for us to recognize it. Despite the event, neither one of us moved.

"I didn't get to tell him I loved him back."

Taehyung furrowed his brows at my statement. "He told me he loved me. I love him, too, of course. I don't think I'll ever stop loving him. I'm sure he knew, but I wish I had told him, just once more."
I didn't know why I was telling this to him. I think I just needed to talk to somebody, and he was just there. As soon as I did it, I regretted it. I was afraid of what he would do next.

Perhaps he'll lash out, or just walk away, or ignore what I said.

But he didn't.

Instead, he pulled me towards him and engulfed me in his arms.

He rested his chin on my head and rubbed my back. I listened to his heartbeat. It was racing. I began to cry again.
"Hey, don't cry. Look, lets go inside. I'm not good at comforting people, but Hobi hyung is."
I shook my head. "No, please stay. Just us. This is comfort enough."

It was mid-day when I awoke, the bright afternoon sun peeking through my windows. I was about to get up when I felt it all come back to me. I felt the fear, and the terror, and the self-hatred. And then I felt the sickness.

I made it to the bathroom in time, and I ended up puking my guts out in the toilet. I groaned as I looked at myself in the mirror. It was true, I was pale as is, but right then I looked as white as the sheets that adorned my bed.

There was a knock on my door.

I made my way back to bed, resting my head on the pillow before letting out a croaky, "Come in." The door opened to reveal that all seven of the boys were stood at my door. Great. "Minji- you don't look so well, are you alright?" Namjoon asked while entering, noticing my pale complexion. I would've laughed if I had the energy to.

"Oh, I'm great, after being forced to murder my best friend. Thank you so much for asking, person who forced me to kill my best friend."

Namjoon looked down at the floor, and I was glad that he felt bad about his actions. "No, I don't feel well at all, thank you for asking. Like, at all." Namjoon nodded. "We'll have people cater for you, don't worry about it. We came to wake you, but never mind." I stared at him as he turned to leave my room. Before closing the door, he turned back to me. "I bet the cuddling in the rain didn't help."

As he closed the door I threw whispered curses at him. Who did he think he was? The boss of me?

...Don't answer that.

I wanted to go out to him, but I was physically unable to. I sighed as I lay back. I hated being sick. And being sick meant I had nothing to distract me from my thoughts. That was even worse.

The day went slowly, with maids and the sort checking in on me every half hour. In between, I slept for most of the day. I figured if I couldn't do anything else productive, catching up on my sleep would be the most beneficial for me. It also meant I wasn't bored. I was awoken at around seven pm to a knock on my door. I uttered the same chime of, "Come in," as I did every time, but this time it was Hoseok rather than a housekeeper standing in the doorway.

I was happy to see him again, and greeted him with the biggest smile I could produce. He smiled in return, but he seemed a little on edge. He didn't enter my room.

"If you're afraid of me getting you sick, don't worry. I think it's mostly guilt," I said as he fiddled with the handle on my door. He laughed before shaking his head. "I'd rather you get me sick. You get so much food if you're sick. That's what I came to say, by the way. Dinner's ready. You should eat something. I've heard you haven't eaten all day."

I sighed at the medic. "They're keeping tabs on when I eat? They'll be informing me when my period's due next, I swear. No, Hoseok, I'm fine," I concluded. He tilted his head. "Are you sure? You don't even want to get a drink? I think it'll be beneficial for you. I love a good sprite when I'm feeling down." It was hard not to chuckle at his persuasions. "Okay, fine. Let me clean myself up a bit, and then I'll go and try to eat something, how does that sound?" Hoseok smiled and nodded, closing the door. "I'll be waiting at the table with the others."

I returned to the bathroom to freshen myself up. It was odd, his behavior. Even if he was a little troubled, he never acted as nervous or worried as he had been acting just then. I tried to brush it off, throwing a fresh hoodie and shorts on and making my way down the stairs.

The room was already silent before I walked in, the only sound being the scratch of forks against plates. The smell of pasta making me hungry rather than making me feel sick again. "How are you feeling?" Namjoon asked. I just glared at him. He glared back. "I know I was a dickhead. That's my job. Answer me."

I stared at the man across the table from me. It was as if he was going back to the way he was when I first came. "Namjoon-" Yoongi warned, but he raised his hand to signify silence. Even Yoongi seemed startled. "I'm feeling fine." I stated bluntly, over-pronouncing each word. He cracked his knuckles quickly. "I'm glad," He replied in the same tone. I felt my skin crawl. The room was quiet for a moment, until Yoongi spoke up. "I was hoping, maybe, If you're feeling up to it tomorrow, Minji, you and I could sort out some papers-" "She won't be doing anything of the sort," Namjoon declared. I turned to him, running my hand through my hair. "Why not, Boss?" I elicted, and he clenched his jaw. "I have something planned for us to do tomorrow, and I don't care if that's okay with you or not," He confessed. My hand formed a fist below the table.

Great. Just the person I wanted to spend my time with.

"I'll look forward to it," I said sarcastically.

"Yes, you will," He concluded, and I could've sworn I saw a smirk on his face as he looked down at his plate.