"seriously, guys," seokjin sighed, his fingers tapping against the desk. "who did it? i won't—" he sighed exasperatedly, "i won't get mad."

"not me," taehyung remarked. "why are we talking about this in my room, anyway?" he questioned, plopping down on his bed, followed by jeongguk who sat next to him, lifting his shoulders into a shrug.

"not me, either. but, hyung, you won't get mad, but he will." jeongguk said.

seokjin, ignoring jeongguk's argument, turned to hoseok, who was going through taehyung's closet. hoseok felt his gaze, lifting his head and groaning, "i fucking hate milk."

seokjin rolled his eyes, "okay. not you," he turns to namjoon next, who opens his mouth to protest, but seokjin cuts him off, "no, no. namjoonie, not you. i trust you."

namjoon shuts his mouth, lips tugging up into a small smile.

taehyung cooed mockingly. "well, that's cute. dad doesn't get to be interrogated."

"i didn't do it anyway." namjoon shrugged.

lastly, seokjin turned to jimin, who's been quiet this whole time. "you. you're the only suspect left."

jimin, who was sitting on the carpeted floor, raised his hands in defense. "me? how about you?"

seokjin gritted his teeth, "stop avoiding he question, you little—"

as seokjin and jimin bickered, the older trying to get a proper response, hoseok shut taehyung's closet with a soft sigh, walking over to the door. about to reach the knob, he stops, heart suddenly racing. he listened closely, closer, hearing soft footsteps ascending the stairs.

"guys," he turned to the group, "guys! he's coming."

everybody paused for at least a second, all tuning in and listening to the footsteps that were indeed increasing in volume. interrupting the silence, seokjin slammed his fist against the desk, "guys. who did it? this is not how we treat new housemates. if we die, we should at least apologize before it happens."

"he's gonna flip," jeongguk commented, "taehyung touched his headphones once. it was the first time i've seen a furious, red cabbage."

"scary." taehyung whispered, shivering at the memory.

"guys? guys, he's so close."

"who did it?!"

"confess your sins."

"if one of you survive, i want a white coffin."

"shit."

hoseok stumbled back when the door burst open, nearly hitting him on the forehead. jimin stood from the floor, hoseok sprinted towards seokjin, namjoon hid behind the oldest as the two youngest held each other in fear.

the empty, once strawberry milk filled, plastic container crashed to the ground, previously grasped by the now furious light blonde haired boy.

face red, his heavy breathing slowed, raising his arm, index finger pointing towards the item on the floor.

"who," his voice was raspy and weak at first, but then transformed into a booming, angry sounding voice, still a bit raspy on the edges as he screamed, "who the fuck drank my goddamn strawberry milk?"