Yoongi POV

I rapped my knuckles gently against the wooden door to Bonnie's bedroom. "It's just me, Beautiful!" I called out clearly to announce my arrival. I wanted to make sure I didn't startle her since she was a bit jumpy; understandable with everything she had gone through. When I heard her warm, melodious voice inviting me in, I stepped inside, feeling a wave of comfort wash over me.

The vase of freesias from me sat on her bedside table, basking in the gentle radiance of the setting sun. My heart swelled with happiness as I recalled Bonnie's reaction to the flowers I'd brought her a few days ago. Her eyes had lit up, and her lips had curved into a bright smile as she breathed in the sweet perfume. Seeing her so happy as she showed Yeosang made me want to bring her lovely things all the time.

I would do anything to see that spark of joy in her eyes.

I was so captivated by her beauty that I discreetly pulled out my phone to capture the moment in a candid photo. In the image, she was lost in the allure of the flowers, a soft smile gracing her lips as she admired their delicate charm. From that day on, every time I swiped open my phone, I was met with the vibrant image of her radiant face—a daily reminder of happiness, simple joys, and delightful surprises.

Speaking of surprises, I was utterly stunned when Bonnie emerged from her bathroom, fiddling with an earring. The sight of my girlfriend in her Halloween costume felt like a fantasy come to life. If I were a cartoon character, my tongue would have rolled out of my mouth, and my eyes would have bugged out of my head in unbridled lust. Granted, Chloe Harlowe—I used her real name when we were alone in my apartment, but anywhere else, she was Bonnie for her safety—was one of the most stunning women I'd ever laid eyes on, with her curvy figure and captivating smile. But that jaw-dropping, two-piece Cleopatra-inspired outfit... Even though I was dressed as Julius Caesar, I would happily be her humble servant, ready to surrender to her every whim.

Our group turned Halloween into an epic celebration each year, with a different person or couple taking the reins as hosts. This tradition was born from my parents and their friends, and my brothers loved the idea so much that we adopted it as our own. As our social circle grew, each new addition was welcomed into the rotation. The pressure was on, though, as each host attempted to outdo the previous year's party.

Our homes were magically transformed into eerie haunted houses, decorated with all things spooky. Since there was a prize for 'Best Dressed', most (not me) spent weeks perfecting elaborate costumes. A smorgasbord of food included delicious treats and sometimes some nasty tricks. Poppy had banished Jimin from the kitchen since his infamous 'peep pizza' and 'snickle' abominations at their party two years ago.

This year, it was meant to be Mingi and Yunho's turn to host. However, with their wedding just a week away, they were too busy preparing for their big day to take on the added task of the party. Without hesitation, my youngest brother and his girlfriend swapped places with the happy couple citing that weddings trump Halloween parties.

When Michelle and Hwa announced the Halloween party theme, 'Iconic Duos', Chloe sprang into action. She decided we should dress as Cleopatra and Caesar, and because I can't say no to her pout or pleading eyes, I agreed. Though, to be honest, I did hold out until after the blow job she threw in as a way to try and butter me up.

Over the past few weeks, my schedule had been overwhelmed with high-stakes meetings, leaving me with barely a moment to catch my breath. As a result, Chloe had taken charge of coordinating our costumes, freeing me from that task. I'd only seen my Caesar soldier costume the week before when Chloe wanted to ensure it was a perfect fit. From the snippets of conversation we'd had, I knew her Cleopatra costume was a stunning turquoise and gold ensemble, comprised of two pieces.

However, what I wasn't prepared for was the skirt's daring design. It was essentially a risqué garment that showcased her entire front from the waist down; only a strategically placed panel maintained her modesty. The result was a provocative, attention-grabbing skirt with two slits that rose high up her hips, leaving little to the imagination.

"Holy shit, Babygirl," I exclaimed as I shortened the distance between us and brought her into my arms. My fingers couldn't help but slide up her exposed thigh, her bare skin making my heart race. "There aren't enough words to describe how sexy and gorgeous you look."

My index finger grazed the edge of the front panel, lifting it with ease. Chloe's eyes widened in shock, and she let out a high-pitched squeak, her voice stern as she scolded me. "If you're trying to see if I've got panties on—the answer is yes, Mr. Pervert." The way she said it, with a raised eyebrow and a hint of teasing, made me feel like a mischievous teenager caught red-handed. But it was worth it when I caught a glimpse of the tiny lace thong she had on underneath.

I was leaning in, my lips hovering tantalisingly close to hers, when suddenly two loud thumps echoed against her bedroom door, shattering the intimate moment.

"You two better not be fucking in there!" Yeosang's voice boomed from the other side, his tone laced with a mix of amusement and urgency. The sudden interruption was like a splash of cold water, jolting us back to reality. The door creaked open, and Yeosang's figure filled the frame, his eyes widening when they lay on Chloe. "You guys look hot but save it for later... We gotta go."

Part of me wanted to chew him out for being a cockblock, but the rational side knew he was right. Sometimes I hated being a responsible adult. It would be far more fun to blow off the party and worship Chloe like a goddess, losing myself in her body. But it wouldn't be fair to Hwa and Michelle as they'd put so much time into planning tonight. I couldn't bring myself to ruin it for them. So, instead of surrendering to my desire to undress Chloe and glorify her curves, I restrained myself. I gave her a light, playful spank on her luscious ass and encouraged her to finish getting ready.

︵‿୨ 🌸 🖤 🌸 ୧‿︵

Bonnie POV

I'd been told that everyone went all out on their Halloween costumes, but I hadn't expected it to be Met Gala level. I was grateful for Poppy's expert advice when choosing costumes for Yoongi and me. At first, I'd considered the classic and overdone Elizabeth Taylor Cleopatra look, which seems to be a staple at every Halloween party. But Poppy's guidance led me in a different direction, and I was so glad it did.

Thanks to her help, Yoongi and I looked like we belonged among the grandeur of everyone else's attire. Instead of the typical Julius Caesar toga costumes that dominated the costume websites, I opted for a more rugged Roman soldier look. Last week, when I saw my boyfriend trying on the golden breastplate, I was captivated. The way it accentuated his broad shoulders and toned chest left me breathless. As he stood before me, Yoongi radiated an aura of power and regality, reminiscent of a Roman king of old. His snow-white toga made his skin appear slightly tanner, while the Roman pteruges, crafted from weathered, leather-like straps, emphasised his slim waist and made his legs look longer. When I asked what he liked most, he hadn't hesitated to say the guards and greaves shielding his limbs—he apparently felt like a superhero. With the flowing red cloak billowing behind him, I could see that even though he'd once said he wouldn't be a superhero with a cape.

When we walked into Hwa and Michelle's place, my jaw dropped at how they'd decorated the space. It was truly impressive, but I didn't get long to admire it before we were all herded outside. Copious amounts of photos were taken as everyone posed in front of the decorated garage door, and I knew Agust's algorithms would be working overtime with how many were being uploaded. When Yunho showed me his favourite photo, I asked him to send it to me.

Standing next to Yoongi, I looked and felt gorgeous. My form-fitting, gold-trimmed teal sleeveless bodice hugged my body perfectly, and the slight moulding of the garment made my figure look incredible. An ornate mini cape, which doubled as a neckpiece, draped elegantly over my shoulders. I had the option to include a decorative headpiece and a long wig; seeing both fitted atop my head, I was glad I'd paid the extra amount. 

At first, I was hesitant about getting the costume because of the liberal use of gold. I had inherited my father's Scottish pale, cool-toned skin, which often looked sickly if I wore too many warm colours. But as it turned out, the teal hue dominated the overall look, and the gold accents added a subtle touch of sophistication.

I felt like a powerful, seductive goddess, exuding confidence and allure. With the amount of skin my skirt revealed, I felt a bit like Lola again. However, instead of selling my body by dancing for money, I felt like a queen, as if Cleopatra herself had embodied me.

Hongjoong's eyes sparkled as he walked towards me, his face beaming with excitement. "Bonnie, I can't believe how good you two look!" he exclaimed, his voice dripping with sincerity.

As he handed me a glass filled with a mysterious green liquid, I thanked him with a smile. The aroma wafting from the drink was enticing, and I couldn't resist taking a sip. The flavours danced on my tongue, perfectly balancing sweetness and tanginess, making me wonder what kind of magic San had added to the drink. Whatever it was, it was undeniably delicious, and I felt a buzz build as more of the cool liquid slid down my throat.

I gazed at the top of Hongjoong's head, where a pair of prosthetic, ridged demon horns jutted out, their pointed tips gleaming under the light. They were so convincing that if I hadn't known him before, I might have truly believed he had horns. The base of each horn appeared seamlessly embedded into his forehead, with fake blood enhancing the illusion. I had to admit, he looked very striking in the black pinstripe suit, tailored to perfection and like it was designed just for him. The overall effect was like a devilish Clark Kent, hiding in plain sight. Yet, Hongjoong exuded a quiet power and controlled menace, a predator poised in stillness, eyes fixed on the hunt.

My voice trembled with laughter as I asked, "Have you seen yourself and San? If I wasn't with Yoongi, I'd be trying to pick you both up." Hongjoong's cheeks flushed a deep crimson, almost matching the vibrant red of his devil costume. "You know, I never thought I would ever see that man as an angel," I continued, shaking my head in amusement as we watched San behind the bar. "His mind is far too dirty to be considered angelic."

Hongjoong watched his boyfriend approach, a sly grin spreading across his face. "That man's not just talk," he murmured, his eyes gleaming with mischief. With a suggestive wiggle of his eyebrows, the devil added, "He definitely knows his stuff."

⋆⁺₊⋆ 🖤 ⋆⁺₊⋆

"You guys look really good together," Seonghwa said, a thoughtful expression on his face as he watched his eldest brother chatting animatedly with Mingi and Yeosang. "I don't just mean the costumes either. I can't remember the last time I saw my brother look so relaxed; normally, he has the weight of the world on his shoulders."

Seonghwa's comment warmed my heart as we waited for another round of Mafia to begin. It felt as if I'd received his approval.

I glanced over at the man sitting beside me. He wore a lavish pirate costume, complete with a tricorne hat and a wig. The outfit made him look like a 17th-century swashbuckling buccaneer, while Michelle had dressed as his saloon wench—her words, not mine. As he removed his hat and tore off the dreadlocked wig, I couldn't suppress the giggle that bubbled up within me. Like the others, I'd found it difficult to take him seriously with that ridiculous hair, so it was a relief to see him look a bit more like himself.

I was on the verge of responding when Michelle began circulating the bowl around the group. "Take a piece of paper, everyone, and remember, keep your roles a secret!" She shot a playful glance at San. The man had no semblance of a poker face and had failed to conceal his mafia identity during our last round.

By now, having played three rounds of Mafia, we were all well-versed in the rules and objectives. Apparently, whenever the group played games that involved a narrator, Michelle always filled that role. She had a remarkable ability to weave suspense and create an immersive atmosphere, and we were eager to see what surprises she had in store for us this time.

When I grasped the glass bowl, my fingers deftly pulled out one of the crumpled white squares, well-used from previous games. As I opened it, a delicate pair of angel wings unfolded, a symbol of my healing power. I was the guardian angel for this round, bestowed with the weighty responsibility of saving a life. But there was a catch, a twist—I had no way of knowing if the person I chose to spare would be the victim that the three mafia members had decided to 'kill'. I wouldn't even know if the person I chose was one of the mafia members.

Michelle's firm voice cut through the chatter, commanding everyone's attention. "It's been a long day in Paradise Cove. The citizens of the town have spent the day celebrating the Eden Festival. As the night strikes midnight, everyone is snug in their beds, sound asleep."

Taking her cue, we all closed our eyes. The room fell silent, the only sound the soft rustling of clothes as we shifted to find more comfortable spots on the ground. Then, in a tone that sent a shiver down my spine, Michelle continued, "Mafia, open your eyes and choose your first victim."

The air was electric, charged with excited nervous energy as we waited with bated breath. I couldn't help but wonder if Yeosang's streak would continue. Would he be chosen as a mafia member for the third time? The seconds ticked by at a glacial pace, each one stretching out before me like an endless highway. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, the blood coursing through my veins like a raging river.

Then Michelle's voice broke the silence, her words hanging in the air like a challenge. She asked the guardian angel to reveal themselves, to choose who among us would be spared. I scanned the faces in the circle. Michelle's expression was a mask, unreadable and impassive. I was on my own, forced to rely on my gut instinct. I took a silent deep breath, the air filling my lungs like a bellows, and pointed to the person I wanted to save.

With a subtle nod, Michelle's eyes locked onto mine, her voice calm yet commanding as she instructed, "Guardian Angel, close your eyes." The air seemed to thicken as the room fell silent, the anticipation almost palpable.

After what felt like an eternity, but was barely a couple of seconds, Michelle launched the new game.

"A new day has dawned. The sun's warm rays peek over the rugged mountain ranges, slowly creeping into the sleepy town of Paradise Cove." Her voice echoed, words painting a vivid picture. "As the citizens of Paradise Cove emerged from their cosy homes, a sense of excitement filled the air. However, the tranquillity was short-lived. A blood-curdling scream sent shockwaves through the town. In the centre of town, a grisly discovery awaited: Leilani's lifeless body floated face-down in the fountain."

Shocked gasps erupted from the group like a burst of air from a punctured balloon. The tension was palpable, but it was short-lived as giggles began to ripple through the room. Leilani's over-the-top performance of her fictional death was too ridiculous to take seriously, especially when dressed as Mother Nature. The pièce de resistance, though, was Father Time—aka Wooyoung dressed like a wizard covered with clocks—who I never knew possessed such impressive acting chops.

He threw himself over his wife's prone body, mindful of her pregnant belly. Woo's face contorted in anguish as he cried out dramatically, "No! Not my Lei-Lei, not my Baby!" His theatricality was so convincing that it only added to the hilarity of the situation, leaving us all in stitches.

Michelle's laughter was so intense that she could barely get her words out, punctuating each phrase with a snicker. "Mingi was lucky last night," she uttered breathlessly between giggles. "The Guardian Angel had been watching over Mingi and saved him from choking on his tongue in his sleep."

Once again, the room erupted in peals of laughter. No one could picture Mingi Song potentially dying in his sleep, especially when he was dressed as an immortal vampire. Yunho, who had come as a vampire hunter, hit his knee dramatically, exclaiming, "Dang! I was so close to getting him this time. I'll get you soon, Mr Vampire!"

Our narrator, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes, attempted to regain control. "Now it's time for the town to discuss and vote on who they think the Mafia is," Michelle announced.

Pandemonium erupted as the room descended into a cacophony of voices. Each person shouted over the others, eager to shift the blame onto someone else. Fingers pointed as accusations flew back and forth. Amidst the chaos, I sat still, an island of calm in a stormy sea. I refused to be drawn into the drama; instead, I kept my eyes fixed on the others, studying their body language and searching for any telltale signs of guilt. I scrutinised their every move, mentally noting who avoided eye contact, who fidgeted nervously, and who seemed overly defensive.

Yeosang's high-pitched whistle brought a sudden hush to the room. "How about we go one at a time? If you get accused, wait until it's your turn to convince us why you're not the Mafia. I can start if you like..."

Everyone nodded at the man dressed as Harley Quinn, eager to hear his thoughts as he declared who he suspected the Mafia to be. Yeo and Jongho looked striking, especially with the lawyer's hyper-realistic Joker mask, which now sat discarded on the bench.

Yeosang surveyed the group, his expression shifting from playful to serious. It wasn't my roommate sitting across from me—it was Special Agent Kang. "Using my powers of observation, I believe Bonnie is in the Mafia," he said, wiggling his eyebrows at me when I scowled. "I mean, just look how quiet she was while everyone else was trying to defend themselves."

When the group had been told we were playing Mafia, both Yoongi and Yeosang had discreetly checked to see if I was comfortable with the game. It warmed my heart that they cared about my wellbeing, especially since this wasn't just a game for me—it had been my reality and my nightmare. I assured them I was fine and insisted they shouldn't go easy on me, as that could seem suspicious.

Mingi, seated next to Yeosang, was up next. "Thank you, Guardian Angel, for saving me. I'll try not to choke on my tongue anymore," he began, prompting another round of laughter. Once the giggles subsided, he turned to the man beside him. "I think Jimin is the Mafia. I smelled something suspicious, and we all know he farts when he's focusing on something."

Jimin—who had apparently won the bet with Poppy and had decided to come dressed as Wesley from The Princess Bride—laughed dismissively. He proclaimed his innocence while pointing at someone else he suspected. Leilani, seated on the other side of him, sheepishly raised her hand, apologising for her baby's gassy outbursts.

As the group began to share their theories about Leilani's 'murder', each person had a different suspect in mind. Yunho, Seonghwa, and Jimin emerged as the top contenders, while only Yeosang suspected me. I breathed a sigh of relief, grateful that I wasn't at the centre of the accusing glares. The atmosphere was tense, with everyone's eyes darting from one person to another, searching for any hint of deceit.

As the votes for the suspected Mafia members began to roll in, my gaze met Yoongi's across the circle. The playful wink he sent my way ignited a warmth in my heart. I realised I hadn't managed to spend much time with him all night; one or both of us were always pulled into different conversations with friends. As I raked my eyes over his body, I longed to sit in his lap and shower him with kisses until we both forgot our names.

Although I yearned for some private time with my boyfriend, that would have to wait. Michelle cleared her throat, adopting her narrator's tone. "With makeshift weapons and torches, the townspeople of Paradise Cove stormed Jimin Park's home. A cacophony of shattering glass and crashing furniture filled the air as they searched for evidence." She paused, the room holding its collective breath as we awaited the next revelation. "After the chaos subsided, only a gruesome sight remained—a testament to the brutality that had unfolded. Jimin's lifeless body lay on the floor, his blood-stained shirt revealing the Mafia tattoo on his chest."

Cheers erupted as everyone celebrated the discovery of one of the Mafia among us. But with a finger raised to her lips and a dramatic "Shh...", we realised that Michelle wasn't done yet. "However, there was something more sinister at the scene, something that sent chills down the townspeople's spines."

She paused, surveying the room with dramatic flair, her eyes gleaming with anticipation. The air was thick with tension as we all waited with bated breath to see what she would reveal next. "Beside Jimin's lifeless body, a sinister warning was scrawled on the wall in his blood: 'More civilians will fall—one each night, until you find us all...'"