June 9, 2019   5:00 p.m
Sunday

"Yoongi how many times are you going to enter my bedroom without my knowledge?" (Y/N) massages her temples, temper running in thin line from Yoongi's lack of response. "I want rest too you know..."

The female nudges his arm. No reaction. Then his shoulder. Again, nothing. But as her tiny index finger hovered its way on his slightly hollow cheeks, Yoongi quickly swatted her hand with ease, groaning that his valuable sleep is disturb from this woman. (Y/N), surprised by his astounding reflexes, recoils back.

"Then rest. I'm not stopping you," he bluntly said, his vocals coming out groggy and unperturbed as his body prepares itself to return back to his slumbered condition.

"Yoong— AH!" (Y/N) gasps as a pair of strong, firm hands fastened around the perimeter of waist. In a blink of an eye, Yoongi sent (Y/N) crashing down to the bed next to him. Working with agility, the male snuggled his head on the crook of her neck while lazily resting his hands on her waist before she could react.

"You... you sweet, sweet little kitten," his voice rumbled deep inside of his voice box— his low and soft tune sent powerful chills to roll down (Y/N)'s spine. "Have you been tangling yourself with your bosses?"

"Yoo-Yoongi I... I don't know what you're talking about."

"(Y/N)," he starts, his low and thunderous voice crashing like a wave in a sea-storm through the room. "You are our assistant. Remain as our assistant. It'll be hard, but it's for your own good. Don't make the same mistakes I've made."

Yoongi's grip on her waist slackened as he dragged his hand towards her jaw, fingers leaving a ghostly touch over her skin. Softly putting pressure on her chin, the male leveled her head with his. His dark, obsidian eyes matched the way he felt towards the world: dark and cold. The whites of his eyes contrasted sharply with the pitch black iris that sunk deep into his head. Though it's depth resembled that of a black hole in space and air of eeriness plus unsettling coldness emanating from his gaze, a spark of light twinkled; in her vision, Yoongi's eyes held a sweet silence before dawn, a reminder that the dark aren't always meant to be a bad thing.

"Little kittens like you are too pure for this cruel world. Such a shame... that reality won't leave souls like yours away from torment," he tucks in a lock of her hair behind her ear as he brings his body to a sitting position. Like a sloth, Yoongi propelled his long limbs to the ground with strain. "Remember my warning kitten. You're an assistant. Remain as an assistant."

'But...' (Y/N) gulped a heavy lump on her throat. 'It feels like I've already crossed that boundary and I had no control of it whatsoever.'

(Y/N) glances at his walking form exiting her quarters, moderately limping. She knows that digging herself deep to her superiors' lives is troublesome, but she can't help but to be curious.

And curiosity comes with a dangerous price.

Is she willing to pay?

'I'm an assistant. Remain as an assistant.'

Yet there is that tug.

A numbing force known as fate— an entity crueler than death. They are the demons in every person's life; they possess each mortal by a rope around their neck, threatening them that if they do not follow what fate desires, hell will come. At last, (Y/N) brought her hand heavily upon her destiny, succumbing to whatever it holds for her— ignoring Yoongi's pivotal warning as she continues her unexplainable fascination towards the seven men of the household.

.
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(Y/N) walked along the glossy tiles of the mansion halls at a leisurely tread. Whenever she closes her eyes in hopes of getting a decent amount of rest, her mind splurges on a tussle of conflicting thoughts that keeps her awake. With her psyche preoccupied by Yoongi's warnings and questions regarding the boys, (Y/N) needed fresh air to think properly before she decides to act.

"Eomma! I thought you were coming next week! Did you enjoy spending your time back at the summer home?" Jimin exclaims, greeting his mother with two open arms.

'Eomma?' (Y/N) thought as she sauntered to the direction of the voice. Finding herself standing at the entrance of the living room area, (Y/N) peaks her head out of the door frame, casting a brief sight of the scene. She stood there rigid, paralyzed as she recognized this woman.

With all her strength, she prevented herself from gasping. Only through her parted lips she drew tiny gasps.

"Of course I did! Surrounded by trees, hiking every morning to hear the beautiful sounds of nature, and free from pollution since it's high up in the mountains— you should come with me Jimin. I miss having my little mochi around~" his mother teases cutely.

"Eomma don't call me litt—!" Jimin's cheeks burns bright red as Mrs. Park slaps his butt without a single hesitation.

"Aigoo, you've been working out. That ass is getting harder day by the day!"

"EOMMA!!"

'That woman... is Jimin's mother...?' They're so different— as if they're not related at all. Unlike Jimin who's always so angry, Mrs. Park (the mother) is the sweetest and kindest person she has ever met. She is much older than what (Y/N) remembers; has the years flown by past their eyes so fast that they've never realized how long it's been?

Mrs. Park... she's the woman who saved (Y/N) when she was on the brink of death.

The nightmare that hunted (Y/N) in her sleep these past few days isn't just some nightly terror... it's a memory... one that makes her feel like she's about to die every time she remembers it.

(Y/N) recalled how her body jarred with each blow, how the pain seared through her skin and took away every feeling of safety she ever had. Her past lover... that sick man... put all into each strike. His sinewy arm would recoil and snap back to her naked behind, the impact delivered by a bamboo stick rather than his own hand. The reason for this disgusting behavior...? She was simply conversing with one of her male friends.

'Stop. Make it stop. I don't want it!' (Y/N)'s body stumbles back as tears rimmed the corners of her eyes.

Maybe at first she shed tears at those terrible times, she doesn't recall. Crying wasn't allowed. If she buckled, her past lover would tell her to stop, or he'd give her something to cry about. And this is the man she loved the most in the world, the one who took her chaste away because she trusted him, and the one who would lift her up when she was down. Stupid. That's what she was. She believed it would stop, that that man would go back to the way she met him, but all (Y/N) got was abuse— he left her to rot in the forest.

But Mrs. Park came.

That was the second time she saved her.

(Y/N) looks at her one last time, realizing that Mrs. Park was already glancing her way. Slowly, Mrs. Park let go of Jimin's hands to approach the female.

"(Y/N)?" Her dulcet voice brought back a euphoria of memories. "You're here— you're," she side glanced at Jimin then back to (Y/N), her facial expressions dropping low but got back up quickly, "here... why are you here?"

"I began working here just a week ago as an assistant," (Y/N) answers with a smile.

"That's great honey... but are you alright? Stress could do something to a person, more importantly... you."

Jimin stared daggers at (Y/N) who's currently conversing with his mother. He specifically demanded this bitch to stay away from his personal life— he couldn't give two shits if his mother knows (Y/N), they could talk later when he's not around for all he cares; Jimin is furious that in the middle of a conversation the mother and son shared, an attention seeking whore comes skipping in.

Jimin doesn't possess the power to control his temper. Growing in a foreign family that wasn't even his own... the vermillion headed boy was trained to be Satan's Descendent. Kidnapped from a young age and sold like a rare animal in the black market, he was manufactured to be the perfect bloodthirsty assassin who's known to have no mercy.

He was always surrounded by guns and so... he couldn't help but to have interests in them... the way they felt, the power they had, and the destruction they caused. He was a lonely soul, longing for friends, yet his temperament became his downfall. He would snap like a twig and a raging hatred is unleashed.

No one would ever understand his insanity... no one but him. No one can imagine the torture he went through... the amount of walls he had to build around himself... the pain he endured at such a young age. No one can fucking understand him and he doesn't expect anyone too.

Min Yoongi barely succeeded in bringing him to the light.

Jimin desired chaos.

He is chaos.

To escape the dark world he's known for his entire life, sacrifices had to be made and sadly... Min Yoongi was on the receiving end. Stripped away from his ability to properly walk, Yoongi (the man who had no idea what he was getting himself into when he was assigned by Namjoon to take care of Satan's Descendent) had to endure Jimin's torturous beatings for weeks on end and it only stopped when the beast was put into his cage by his own mother— his real mother.

Not a single soul knew what she did, but no one questioned it.

The beast has been controlled, but it's only a matter of time until it escapes from his cage.

Breathing a loud and heavy growl, Jimin storms out of the room. His mother, already on the balls of her feet sprang to action, but (Y/N) was faster. His face twisted to a menacing sneer, eyebrows scowling darkly under his fire-colored hair that graced his forehead the moment he realized a little bitch was at his tail.

"Jimin, wait!" She shouted, pulling him back by the shoulder. "Why are you running off?"

"Can you just fucking leave me alone?!" He aggressively yells, shoving the female hard onto the floor. "You worthless piece of shi—"

"THAT'S ENOUGH!"

"H-Hoseok," (Y/N) said in a small, monotone voice. She couldn't pay full attention; she's too dissociated from her mind.

"Jimin stop hurting her—"

"Why is everyone siding with this fucking bitch?!?" Jimin held a malcontent and insulted stare as he looks at his older confidant. "You know what? I'm tired of everyone's bullshit. Fuck all of you."

"Are you okay (Y/N)?" Hoseok asked when Jimin's body disappeared at the corner of the halls.

"Yeah I'm fine. You don't have to worry about me—" (Y/N) jolted in surprise as Hoseok's arms wrapped around her frail body. Finding comfort in his sudden affection, (Y/N)'s breath descended to a slow pace, her body melting into his arms as every muscle lost its tension. Within his warm embrace, snuggled in close by his big, strong arms, she felt protected. (Y/N) chuckles, "I'm fine... I promise."

"You-you don't feel fine to me," the male pouted. "Your whole body feels tense, rigid, and your temperature is surprisingly cold considering that your adrenaline of being pushed down should've warmed you up."

"Hobi," (Y/N) said sternly.

"No."

"Hobi."

"Why didn't you fight back?"

Taken aback by his question, she took full notice of Hoseok's angered and boiling expression, his amethyst eyes filled with resentment from Jimin's destructive deeds. "He's my boss."

"There's gotta be something more than that."

"You're right," (Y/N) weakly smiles.

(Y/N) believes that the eyes are the windows of the soul. It's as if she can see through them. His words and facial expressions never traveled to his eyes.

"There is something more than that."

Hoseok glanced at (Y/N) as he subconsciously hoped that she would speak more, even if its not about this topic— it could be anything, just as long as she speaks. He wanted an excuse for him to stay in this embrace. He wanted her to stay.

'I wish we could stay like this forever.'

However, to his dismay (Y/N) left him after sometime, allowing the straining silence of the empty space she'd left act as his only source of comfort. Once Hoseok realized the urgency of her company, the boy scolded himself.

'What the hell is wrong with me?? Why do I find wanting (Y/N) more and more?'