"Between you and your sister, the two of you combined are one brain cell I swear..." Chaerin sighs, gathering her coiled, traditionally ahjumma-styled hair into a short ponytail. She tosses a few dishes into Bora's sink. The receiver grimaces. 

"Look, I just figured Y/N needed some space. You know how she's always been." Bora continues accepting the dishes your aunt passes to her, muttering under her breath, "Seriously, people are disgusting when they eat in public."  

Aunt Chaerin hears this however, and quips back, "Bora, you eat like a horse in public." 

"That wasn't my point Auntie!" 

Chaerin wheezes, knowing her wits served her well. She rolls her shoulders back, and slips off her gloves after scrubbing her final dish to a pearly shine. "How much longer should we wait for Y/N? It's been 10 minutes already. We still have to clear 4 rooms." 

Your raven-haired sister hums, "Yup. A face like that takes hours to wash." 

Chaerin's palm anchors to her waist, the expression smudged on her worn-out visage speaking volumes. 

"Fine!" Bora whines through her embraced teeth, "I'm going now. You better not deduct my salary if Y/N doesn't show up." 

Your aunt pops a sarcastic chuckle,"Don't you just love it when a sister cares?" 

Rolling her eyes when exiting the kitchen, Bora makes her way to your hotel room. As she passes by the lobby, she notices a familiar figure in a guest chair, head between their legs. She grins. 

"Ow! What the hell was that for?" The carrot-top boy whines, mourning the loss of feeling along the back of his neck. 

"For everything and nothing." 

Jimin's brows knit, lips curved and prepared to protest until unannounced to his chest cavity's stability, Bora's laugh oozes into his ears. It had been a melody he failed to realize he needed until this now. 

Not wanting make his attention obvious, he provides a small smirk. "I think you're forgetting who's your personal Uber around here." 

The charcoal beauty snaps her fingers, "Ah right, I should give credit to the car. Oops. I'm a bit forgetful you know." 

Jimin's mind swirls further into frenzy when dimples mark Bora's cheeks. Jimin grins, muttering in heavy southern dialect, "Next time we go anywhere, I'm dumping you back in Seoul."

The poor girl's brows furrow in confusion. "What on earth did you just say? That you're going to take a dump in Seoul? God, your accent is thick... I can't understand anything."

He winks. "That's the way it's supposed to be, hotel maid."

Jimin is prepared to tease again until he notices the curious state of his victim's expression. Her brows strung tight, lips pursed into a frown, gaze narrow. A twinge of guilt floods Jimin's system. Did he do this?

"Bora I'm sorry-"

"Can you excuse me for a moment? I'll be right back."

Only now as Jimin's gaze trails Bora's path does he realize what she her heart had been burning so intently on - Yoongi. He watches as her figure disappears up the stairs, matching the steps of the man she was chasing until her figure fades into obscurity.

Upon first glance, Bora could feel the déjà vu tingling down her spine. From the stories she had heard she knew well who this man was and what he was capable of. Since that drunk, solemn night, Bora now understands that her lingering feeling of familiarity was no coincidence.

Sensing the determined set of footsteps behind him, Yoongi pivots, a smile of relief sinking into his lips when recognizing Bora. "Oh Bora! It's you! You almost scared me there."

The raven-haired girl continues frowning. She folds her arms over her chest, sighing once reaching the top of the flight of stairs. "Yoongi, can we talk for a moment?"

"Of course. Are you alright? You seem a bit off..."

The only way Bora can resist the genuine concern gleam in Yoongi's eyes is by shutting him out. She drops her gaze to the floor.

"I know the secret you're keeping."

For a breif few seconds, the man's eyes swell into tense suns and then return to cooling moons. Unsure of how else to respond to such an allegation, he pops a short laugh. "Bora, there's nothing I'm hiding that isn't for everyone else's good-"

"It's about your family..."

Yoongi's lips pull into an unreadable line.

"What do you know?"

The girls pass an exasperated, heavy sigh as if freeing the massive burden chained to her back all this time. "I know because... This has to do with our family too."

A frighteningly dizzy spell of confusion sets across Yoongi's fear-struck visage. "What...?"

"I'll give you credit, it took me a while to figure everything out. But once I started connecting the dots, I couldn't stop the rest of the dominoes from falling." A sad, melancholic smile replaces Bora's frown. Her eyes sting with moisture, reddening in a plea to not allow the tears to fall.

"Everything is connected - my aunt and her disappearances, your success despite coming from an apparent nothing, all the shady stuff that keeps happening to you... It is both everything I thought I wanted, yet my worst nightmare."

All Yoongi can do is watch as Bora continues on after getting a grip on her emotions. The girl raises an accusative finger toward the man in question. "Min Yoongi, son of Min Wonwoo... The white tiger born to a family with Asia looped around its fingers. You're no nobody..."

The ugly truth flashes through the girl's eyes.

"You're an heir."

Accepting his fate, Yoongi acknowledges there is no more escape and that any words formed out of his throat will be seen as worthless by the accuser. It's almost as if a massive, looming burden on his chest has been lifted as he speaks, "So you know now."

Bora's eyes bulge to the size of gulf balls. This is unexpected! She was expecting some form of excuse, denial but alas there is none. Just a man breaking down all the lies built in her head until this very moment.

When her conscious regains grip of what is her queasy reality, she reiterates, "You're... An heir!?"

Yoongi nods apprehensively.

In complete and utter shock, Bora's teeth run through her bottom lip, and she pulls back the hair from her face, hanging on for a few seconds before letting it crumble back down. She turns back to Yoongi. "What the hell are you doing here then!? Aren't you supposed to be, you know, running your company?"

"It's a complicated story." The man sighs.

The girl folds her arms around her chest. "My sister works at this hotel because her friend left her with 10 000 dollar debt. Try me."

A click of a slammed door captivates Yoongi's attention and a disturbed sensation settles into his stomach. He eyes the stairwell cautiously.

Grabbing Bora's arm, he tugs the girl closer, urging his voice into a whisper. "Now is not the time to talk about this. I think we have company."

Then it dawns on Yoongi. His breath hastens and chest cavity constricts with concern. His already sturdy, muscly grasp on Bora tightens.

"Wait- Where is Y/N?"

The girl's brows furrow. "Her room."

As if already answering the wallow of dread drowning inside, Yoongi's anxiety mounts to panic mode. "No, I just came back from her empty room. Where is she?"

Now the worry bug catches onto Bora. "What?" 

A deliciously mystified laugh rumbles from the boy's chest as he circles, mind pacing as wildly as the only words to exit his mouth come in mumbled denial. In the midst of his manic breakdown, a familiar face etches into his mind.

Subin.

And that fucking woman - The Madame.

His disgusting, greedy family.

A wave of nauseating disgust flows through his veins, seizing his terrible regret - if only he kept you out of this.

"Bora, listen to me. You need to evacuate everyone in the building and check the security cameras."

"What? Why-?"

Every muscle in the charcoal-haired girl's body clenches as she observes Yoongi's hand snake into his slack pockets, retrieving a device of which she's been lucky enough to solely witness on a shimmering silver screen. A gasp soars her lips. Peeling back the top, the teeth of the contraption snaps back with a distinct click. Yoongi's grip tightens on the pistol.

"Because, you're sister's safety is relying on it."

No more questions asked, Bora sprints down the stairs until her footsteps fade into mere echoes as far as Yoongi is concerned. He lowers his stance, both hands cradling the gun clasped in his grip as checks each stairwell corner with each flight of stairs climbed.

The flickering, dim lights on the second floor mock him with vacancy.

So does the third.

With nowhere else to turn, Yoongi's gaze is left to fall on the rooftop stairwell. Cautiously, he ascends up each stair with slamming precision, lead on by the scent of ciggerettes snickering in the midnight wind. His palm caresses the frosty steel of the doorknob.

His teeth bare.

"Fuck." He curses under his breath.

His eyes scan the door once more like a tall glass of water; easily 3 inches of steel, certainly no easy target. His chest throbs as the unmistakable tap of footsteps become increasingly pronounced.

"Stop it!!!"

A piece of his soul shatters. "Y/N...?" His voice cracks under his horrified whisper.

Fuck it.

Estimating the thickness of the door and his runway speed, Yoongi descends down half the stairs, stopping at the sixth. He lets out a tense breath and squeazes his eyes shut, rolling his already injured shoulder back.

His eyes flutter open, and so his dash commences. As the door neers in proximity, he braces his shoulder for impact, grunting at the he thrashes his body into the steel body guard. In an ugly screach, the door's hinges rip from the cement of the doorframe, nails tumbling to the ground along with Yoongi's weak figure.

He steadies himself onto his feet, rising like the warrior kicked down so many times before that the fall no longer inflicts pain and awaiting his destiny.

Your eyes, clouded with a mist of moisture and hurt, ravage Yoongi's in hope of releif. "Yoongi!!!" Your call cracks in a hoarse whip.

"Shut it, maid!" Subin thrashes your figure closer to rooftop edge, the knife held in her hand inching toward your neck. The blade glazes your skin, threatening to mark a sinful dent. The river of tears continue to stream down your face. "Yoongi help!!!" Your brutesque shriek carries into the dead night, awaking the rage visibly posessing Yoongi's shaking stature.

"MOTHER!!!!!!!" 

The click-clack of high heels assaulting concrete terrain respond to the foolish male's pedantic cry. The woman's sadasticly scurrilous grin forcefully ingrains itself in the minds of her targets, seccumbing to the horrid nature of her mad series of chuckles.

"Finally you call me by proper title, son." Yoongi points his pistol toward the assailant; the one who left him a hurt child since the moment she stole his everything, The Madame.

"Don't call me son, Yoonhae." Yoongi snaps in a wolvish tone.

Stunned, the gloved woman laughs, "Fine. If we're going to go by titles, why don't we start with the one you owe me?"

"It was never yours! And it will never be yours, you monster!"

Ignoring the heavy pants of her ungrateful step-son, her hand falls to her coat pocket. "Shame. I hoped we could sort this out peacefully. Only, with a tone like that," A chuckle rumbles within her throat. "I don't think so."

She draws her pistol.

By now, with the image of Yoongi's life flickering before your very eyes, you wrestle, shake and contort your body - anything if it means saving him! However, your blissful second of freedom crumbles to a devestating loss when Subin restrains and tackles you into her sharpest lock yet, shining blade now indenting your ghostly skin.

You hiss as a warm pooling liquid flows down your neck.

"Yoongi...!" Your cry comes out in choked sobs. Yoongi's jaw tightens.

The Madame moves her gun in your direction, never refraining her gaze from Yoongi's. "Now, let's make this simple, son. Where are the papers?"

Your cries intensify as the knife in Subin's control threatens to plunge deeper in your skin. Your nails dig crescents in the her palms as the pain mounts.

Yoongi's gaze shifts between The Madame and you.

His mind is racing, at a complete loss. He hasn't got much time and if he doesn't act soon, your life won't be the only one spared in his name.

"Her blood is spilling - tick tock, Yoongi."

His eyes meet yours.

"Yoongi! Please!"

The Madame's crow-black orbs of emptiness scavange the boy. "What will it be Yoongi? The girl... Or the position?"

His gaze clocks back toward you, mind dancing through a ballroom of trauma and pain he'd already come to befriend so well as he knows the fatality of that woman with a weapon - a fatality that robbed him of youth's joy and reason of carrying forward.

He lowers his head. "I'm sorry Y/N..."

"Excellent, son. You've chosen well. Now, hand me the papers and return my rightful spot to power!"

Yoongi's shifts his pistol in the direction of The Madame, "Funny thing is," He smirks, "it's hard to return doucments that no longer exist in paper."

Subin balance jerks. "MOTHER GET DOWN!"

As fast as she can manage, The Madame thrashes her body down to the bone-shattering cement - yet fast does not defeat Yoongi's bullet slicing through air. The Madame winces like a dog whose paw had been trampled, clutching at the red forming along her abdomen. A warm sensation tickles down her spine - little did she realize, it would soon be the last of her feeling.

Subin roars with sobs, watching the life drain from her mother's cold body. "You monster!!!"

Yoongi redirects his pistol toward to his howling half-sister, and cocks his head slightly to the side, hoping you've caught the memo. You notice the relief of pressure on your neck as the terrible, mourning roars of loss that paralyze your captor. Without second thought, you seize your given oppurtunity and dive to the ground.

A second bullet follows after. 

Choked with sobs, Subin clutches as her inner thigh, noting the blotch of blood soaking through her pants. Her jaw tightens and she reaches for her back.

A milesecond was all Yoongi needed.

A milesecond was all he needed to prevent it all.

Yet as fate has it, the universe has never blessed him and it never will.

Laying on her side, finger weakly looped around the trigger, The Madame chokes through bloodied warnings, "Just as easily as I raised you in this world... I'll take you out." 

A pump of adrenaline floods Yoongi's veins and the gunshot follows his desperate bolt toward you. Your eyes flicker with horror as a foregin set of hands shove your back. Panic ensues as you stumble, knowing balance is out of the question as you watch Yoongi's figure sink from your line of sight.

Your squeaze your eyes shut.

Is this how it all ends?

Everything until this very moment as your frame cut through the air, is this all your life has built up to?

Rage and healing - are these the two faces of love?

The pounding in your chest resets as a giant burden strains your shoulder. Regaining your senses, you tilt your head upwards - Yoongi...

His orbs are dipped in tears. "Y/N... Hold on tight."

The boy grimaces, the muscles in his shoulder tearing from the final bullet The Madame threw his way in her last breath of vengence. He winces, crowds below gasping in horror watching the way your arms cling to his for your life.

Using the strength remaining within him, he attempts to push his foot off the edge as leverage to pull your full body up. Yet, you dangle in the air.

As the excrutiating pain of his shoulder begins to take full grip, a sorrowful wail rips his throat. He stumbles forward, other hand catching himself on the railing, but you still hang. "We're going to do this. We can do it Y/N... We-"

"Yoongi," His world shatters at the weakness resonating in your voice. You study the blood staining his dress shirt and the unatural position of his shoulder.

A sigh passes, your understanding, tender, loving orbs meeting his. "If you love me... Let me go." 

"No, Y/N there's a way! Surely there's a way! Hold on tight."

"Yoongi-"

"No!" His shoulders shake uncontrollably as tears wash away at his red face. "Don't do this to me." He mumbles.

Through your teary gaze, you manage a sincere yet weak smile. "Yoongi, I love you..."

His grip remains just as firm.

You glance down at the horrified crowd below and then steady on him. You nod, crying. "It's okay."

"No, Y/N..."

"Let me go."

You let your hand slip from his.