"Bad choice... niece girl."

He takes you up and down with a lust-seeking gaze. Along with a shaky exhale, he'd felt his mood had become uplifted as the stupidly charming smile had been erased from your pouty lips. Your eyes went wide, hands trembling as his grip on your wrists tightened.

He chuckles, "Now isn't this provocative?" He mumbles, almost as if he was enjoying the fact you had suddenly become so helpless. He wanted to deny that this wasn't even in the slightest funny, but with the "misfortunate" outcome you had, he was straining to contain a blank face.

You turn your head the other way. "Isn't it obvious?"

Yoongi takes a mocking gasp for air, eyes fluttering open adopting a look of feigned idiocy. He grins, "Please enlighten me."

Your jaw clenches.

Since the first day this man arrived at the hotel, the teasing had been endless. Everyday he'd come up with something new to tease you with, even the smallest things.

Stupid. Min. Yoongi.

In a gaze coated with spite, your orbs make the daring move to lock onto his first. "Well... For one Mister..." You lick your lips, a finger looped around one of the buttons of his dress shirt.

"Think about it... You on top of me... A quiet room. What else is missing besides someone ripping the clothes off another?"

Your voice had been suggestive, one Yoongi had never imagined could come from a set of lips like yours. He never foresaw this coming; deception. He reserved the assumption of the use of that technique for the bolder ones, not... people like you.

It was surprising.

Perhaps you did know how to use some tools better than he thought.

Feeling the affects of your witty attack, his grip on your body unconsciously loosens, his thighs still enclosing your frame with much aggression. A strand of the hair parted from his face tumbles onto his forehead, the perfect weakness for your escape!

Now that things have been set all you need is a distraction. You have to win no matter what.

You half-grin. "Well I mean... Unless if you dig guys."

Yoongi nearly chokes on his spit. "Did you just call me gay-?"

Before Yoongi could have the time to finish his question in response to your offense, you untangle yourself from his grasp. A firm palm against his skin-tight dress-shirt, you shove with all the strength you can muster.

Yoongi stumbles backwards. His back is cushioned by the landing of your soft mattress with an airy groan.

With heavy breathing, you find yourself once again like a puzzle piece between the man's legs, a smug grin on your face as you brush the hair from your face. "It's called a tactic honey."

His charcoal orbs flaunts their surprise, eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets from your brazen attack. This was something he did not see coming.

Stance lowered, your hot breath fans over his lips. "Maybe you should use one."

Without much warning Yoongi's head was welcomed to the floor with an audible thump, he body tumbling next. Though his body was shriveled on the hard wood, he couldn't help but grin.

Seems like you managed to beat him at his own game.

"I'll let you win this time... Niece girl."

❈

In the solitary darkness of drawn blinds, silken emerald waves licked his cheeks. The wind howls to the moon, and the stars shine brilliantly on their navy canvas, yet Yoongi lay awake, shuddering.

He clamps a hand over his mouth to silence himself as the pain seized him. It courses through his veins, runs through his mind and grabs a life-sucking hold of his heart.

He strains to hold the gasp building in his throat as a sheen of cold sweat beads his forehead. Processing his world before his grasp, the moon frowns upon him in pity, because just like a warm blanket, the moon too had also been abandoned by the sun's warmth.

The comfort of a smile from such a heartless fiend.

How did he fall into that rabbit hole?

The words of encouragement spewed in hot breaths.

Why did he need it?

Why couldn't he have left it where it stood?

Only now, after years and years of the torment, the hurt and the backlash, Yoongi was beginning to adjust to the crumbling door of reality; that what he had once believed was love, was nothing more than a terrible lie.

They drip.

They drop.

The drizzling drops from above. Not from the heavens, but instead from a taunting pair of lifeless, hollow orbs.

He recognizes it. He acknowledges it.

The tears pouring down his face -- the same beautiful face he studied in the mirror everyday -- carrying a look a defeat and worstly... Fear.

The cowardly fear that he will never change.

He's been living the dizzying reality for as long as his mind can reach back, but no words have ever had such a devastating affect. They never broke him down, they never made him suddenly snap like this, because for the longest time he knew he was safe, that he wouldn't have to face the people that selfishly cultivated his youth.

Yoongi rises to his feat, stumbling to the chair that his leather jacket rests upon. He rummages through the contents of his pockets eventually settling it; a box of sloppily rolled white sticks.

There's no turning back now.

The floorboards whimper beneath his feet as he slips past the balcony door and outside. From his pocket he fishes a lighter, and between his fingers he ignites a single cigar. Clouded in the scent of burnt and gray smog, he heaves a much needed sigh as he dares to peek at his phone.

Su: Stop wasting all of our time. Either comply or be forced to comply, your choice. Be warned, choose wisely, the madame waits.

Yoongi: Blood is thicker than water. Know your place before I make it clear.

Su: Don't get on your high-horse, though you may be his but your skills are inadequate to suit such a responsibility. The madame is in the right, she is deserving.

Yoongi: Do truly believe she is the rightful holder?

His upper lip twitches. Why couldn't she have just left him before things got messy? Couldn't they have just left him be? He was a bastard anyways, so what does it matter to them?

She can't keep persisting in this endless chase, there's only so much patience he can have for someone running around so blindly. It's sad how many people chase their own tails endlessly for a little cash.

It's sad what the power of green holds and how much envy it creates.

It's a bitter truth, one that the entitled know well and abuse. The madame may be adorned the title of queen by many, but that's nothing farther than the truth. She's nothing more than a figure of fear -- one that makes those kneel before her terrifying reign of power.

Either join or be forced to join.

He throws his head back, savouring the scent of the sea-breeze as it tangles his ebony-locks. He'll miss it. The charming nightly landscape, that is.

It's only a matter of time before he'll have to say a reluctant goodbye to the life he's built on his own.

He sighs.

Life is tragic.

He raises the cigarette to his lips and is about to go in for another dose of stress-relief when a the creek startles him.

Eyes heavy-lidded from fatigue and hair the identical twin of a bid's nest, you toss him a sympathetic smile. "Stressed?"

He focuses his gaze back to the midnight sky, "Yeah."

Gliding into the empty space beside him, you giggle. "I can't imagine. Being a university senior looks crazy tough." Shivering, you rest your forearms against the metal railing and observe the scenery with a intense surge of longing.

Home...

You miss it.

Yoongi frowns. "Wait. How did you know I'm a...?"

"It's not my fault you leave your essays everywhere." You snicker, "And psychology... Who knew? Personally I took you more as a man of a business major."

The sentence causes Yoongi's lips to purse, and what you fear to be anger, turns out to be amusement much to your surprise. "There's a lot people don't know about me." He turns to you with a grin, those beautiful pearls of darkness stealing the show.

Not to mention your breath.

"Here." You follow his voice, a jacket hanging on his outstretched arm. Your hand reaches for it, but you stop yourself, brows furrowed. "What?"

He settles back into his stance and says softly, "Anyone can hear your teeth chattering, " He muses taking a deep breath, gaze averted. "Here. Take it."

You shake your head. "No. It's alright."

"Please." He cuts you off, placing the jacket around your shoulders. "It's the least I can do." He whispers, breath clashing against yours as his fingers grabs hold of the zipper, then proceeding to do-up your jacket.

You turn your head the other way in attempt to reason with your thrumming heartbeat. Expression flushed and voice squeaky, you murmur a shy, "Thank you."

He returns your words with a steady nod, still engrossed with the task at hand. His fingers quiver, lips down-turned, and eyes sad; but he continues.

He tries to make the ends meet, and eventually does. Two halfs of the coat that are separated by metal teeth of hardships, only to reunite with the base of fate.

He sighs.

Why couldn't his life be so simple?

He's about to take another huff of his cigar, when his mouth remarks it's absence, gaze only left to tumble to the ground to regard the leftover embers by your feet.

"Hey..."

"What?" You arch a brow. "We're a no-smoking facility."

"But I was on the balcony..." He pouts, cheeks round and so freakishly pinch-able that you have to clasp your hands behind your back to resist the urge to squeeze them.

"Want to know what my aunt says in moments like these?"

He remains silent, almost as if in a state of confusion. You inhale a deep breath, "She says 'Life is overrated, so when it sucks, don't be surprised and deal with it.'." He stares at you blankly. "What?" You laugh, "I'm trying to give you some advice here, the least you could do is look interested."

He chuckles.

"Anyways," You continue, planting your hands into the coat pockets. "Yeah... She isn't the best at expressing herself." You smile. "But that one phrase, I'll always remember clear as day." You turn to him.

"Back then, she meant that we're all leading lives of our own, and people are people. We can't control the way they act, neither can was control how they hurt. We only control what we can, and that is yourself." You rest a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"You can mope, become angry, lose control and sight of everything you have, or... You can enjoy life to the fullest."

A short silence hangs the air.

As much as he hated to admit it, you knew how to give some really good advice.

And you're right again, because now, in all of this moment, he wants your world for the taking. He wants to discover where this pull in his chest will lead.

He wants to be free.

His lips parts, as if about to say something, only to then close again.

"Don't." You smile, shaking your head.

Yoongi continues to observe as you reach into your pant pockets, retrieving what seems to be the end of yet another cigarette.

"Thank you-"

He stumbles back as a ball of sweetness rolls around playfully in his mouth, leaping past his teeth in the hopes to freshen things up a bit. He yanks the candy from his mouth, puzzled as you giggle. "Strawberry?"

You shrug and smile knowingly. "It's tastier than cigar butts."

As of that moment, Yoongi isn't sure what's come over him, but he does it -- his lips, from what he assumed could no maker a sonata of such beautiful happiness, do.

His chest rises, then falls, and repeats the motion over and over, until his expression tinges a light champagne under the moonlight.

He's laughing.

As are you.

And boy does it ever feel so good. To feel this way and just laugh all your worries away is something that has been long forgotten in his little heart -- but thankfully someone's finally enlightened him to the everlasting beauty of something so simple.

"True." He says, gaze turning to you who is still lolling him into a beautiful trance of reassurance with your fluffy giggles.

It's stunning really, almost... addictive.

Adrenaline-pumped, and posture strong, he veers towards the balcony, only for you to follow with an attitude practically matching that of a dog wagging it's tail to it's master; a notice me, notice me!

Gliding past the door, he enters the rather (on his part) messy room, and begins rummaging through the drawers of his nightstand, eventually landing on it.

The keys Hoseok lost along with what you can assume to be Yoongi's car keys.

"Wait! Why do you-?"

"Come with me."

10/6/2018

[Hey folks! Sorry for the late update. Had some serious writers block for a while, but now I have been hit with a stroke of inspiration, so I sincerely hope you will continue to read my work. Thank you! Love, BTSgotJams_170 ]