"Play these little games."

~T.F

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Even though it's the middle of August and the AC is barely holding the Rose Petal together, it feels like the North Pole behind the counter. No customers to talk to, (not like I want to talk to customers, anyway) nothing worth looking at on my phone, you at another session. So, I'm left to twirl my straw and listen to Jimin and Yoongi sing songs about their devotion to each other.

Oh, if only I could kill a man with a straw. Half a foot of flimsy plastic will usually get you nowhere in life, except saving your dignity when drinking a milkshake. Though, I suppose I could repurpose it somehow: get behind the guy and choke him out until he dies of asphyxiation. Sharpen the end and stab it through his jugular.

Or, maybe I could even coat it in grease, put it on the ground, and wait for him to slip. His head would split open like an overripe watermelon. The joy!

Unfortunately, though, I can't do that without Jimin being at least slightly irritated at the death of his boyfriend as he now calls him, so for now, my fantasies remain just that.

"You know, I'm pretty sure there was a rule about PDA during orientation," I call. Jimin rolls his eyes from the nearest shelves, snatching his hand away from Yoongi's ass. The balls on some people.

The blond doesn't seem like he wants to be here any more than I want to be, staring into space or looking at his phone every time Jimin talks to a customer. He'd be invisible if it wasn't for the cloud of tobacco following him wherever he goes.

Then why the fuck is he here? It probably wasn't of his own accord; every time my coworker gets a new toy to play with, he has to show it off to someone, and that person is usually me. Usually, I don't mind, but just seeing Yoongi's smug smile makes me want to punch a wall.

And he pretends to be a prick too well, so there's that. Though, I should probably give him some leeway since his father was murdered and everything.

"I'm pretty sure the only thing you told me during orientation was to not fuck up," Jimin says with a giggle. "And also, don't act like you have anything better to do." It's my turn to roll my eyes as I stare down at my straw. Maybe I should use it on myself.

But even in the midst of all this, I can't stop thinking about you. What you're doing, what you're thinking about, what you're wearing. Are you wearing that pantsuit I love so much, the one that makes me think about fucking you from behind? Or the shirt you refuse to wear a bra with that delivers the attention you crave so badly? Are you thinking about me as much as I'm thinking about you?

I have a feeling you'd like it if I invited you over after-hours and pinned you against the counter, getting fucked like the slut you are in the hazy glow of the streetlights outside. The only thing left in your brain being my name, you'd know the definition of total submission.

I'm suddenly glad that my lower half isn't visible to anyone.

"Tae! Did you forget to restock the oolong?" Jimin asks, startling me out of my daydream. I scratch my head sheepishly.

"Would you be mad if I said yes?" His lips form a thin line as he holds in a sigh; he would've pitched a fit about doing it by now, but maybe he wants to make a good impression on his guest.

"Alright, I'll go do it, I guess. Don't miss me too much!" he sings, then dashes toward the storage room before Yoongi or I can say anything.

Leaving just the two of us.

The quiet music in the background offsets the awkwardness that settles in like oil over water. Our tension runs deep even from this distance, and I can't even bring myself to look in his direction without feeling the urge to wrap my hands around his throat.

However, he seems to feel the same about me, cutting his eyes to me every time I dare breathe. No matter how unimpressed he tries to seem around me, I can tell he's on edge. The first time we met, he hadn't perceived a threat, but now, the party feels like a century ago as I look into his steely gaze. He knows what I know. I know what he knows.

Thus, our cold war begins.

"Just to let you know, Jimin falls for guys pretty easily. I'd hate for you to be using him for something casual and end up hurting him," I say, eyes narrowed. I wait for him to falter, to see the flicker of worry in his gaze, but it never comes. Instead, he chuckles wryly, daring to come up to the counter and look into my eyes as he does so.

"I'd be worried about you hurting him more than anything," he says lowly.

I scoff. "Excuse me?"

What's the bounty hunter's game? Why does he pretend to stay detached from his victim when he looks upon him with a fondness that says otherwise?

"I'm only going to tell you this once. Back off from Jimin and his sister." When he sees the expression on my face, he doubles down with the viciousness of a predator. "I know your type. They don't need to be involved."

At first, the words are foreign to me, about to pass through me unfazed, but it clings. It latches on until I understand its gravity, and it feels like a bowling ball just dropped onto my stomach, my mouth dropping open ever so slightly in the process. It clutches the air between us like everything is at stake.

Sister.

How does he know? How would he? Jimin's never brought her up once in the two years I've known him, and he certainly wouldn't tell a guy he's known for a few weeks about her.

(The scent of bubblegum, the vanilla lotion she used, flashes of auburn hair caressed by the wind. Eyes that told me what I needed to know in an instant, hands that grabbed my wrists at the right moment. Why did you have to remind me so much of her, of all of them?)

"And I can't prove it," Yoongi says, jabbing his index finger into my chest, (get your fucking hands off me or I'll break them off for you) "but I know you and that ssibalsaekki are in on this together."

The twitch of an eyebrow gives my anxiety away, and seeing his smug expression at the fact that he's cracked me makes me all the more determined to keep my mouth shut. Although, some anarchist part of me wants to give him everything he needs to know and sit back to enjoy the shitshow that'll undoubtedly follow.

I maintain my position. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

His own thirst for vengeance is his downfall. From the way his lips curl in disgust, he doesn't appreciate my stubbornness, but did he think it would be this easy to stroll into my life with his leather jacket and steel eyes to uncover years of keeping myself hidden? Did he think victory was imminent when he committed himself to avenging his family, not realizing how far down the roots went?

Clenching his jaw, Yoongi swallows back bitter retorts in favor of something resembling compassion.

"Don't protect him. He's not worth it."

I don't do well with compassion.

"I think you should learn some boundaries," I snarl, head held high to imitate some sort of height difference, and the resolve in his eyes cements itself firmly in place.

I feel myself losing the balance I so desperately wanted to achieve. Parts of me, like cogs in a machine, are beginning to unhinge, revealing themselves to be the open book I really am.

Invidia and Mars draw back the curtains of their secret war to show me that, no matter where I'm buried, they will always rule over me. Raising their brass and sigils, they brandish their battle cries, cherished at their breast until it's time for them to mix and unfold.

They possess me, and I possess them. The hard lines of reality are nothing but amusing.

Jimin skips toward us at lightning speed with a dozen bags of oolong in his arms.

"Okay, back. What did I miss?" he asks, and his bubbliness nauseating at the moment. Yoongi glances at me slyly, then turns to him.

"We were just talking about how we should all go on a double date. Us, Taehyung, and his girlfriend," he says with the worst attempt at a friendly smile, but his lover doesn't notice as I grip the counter next to me so hard my knuckles turn white.

Despite the fact that you and I aren't exclusive, he wants me to know that he's been watching us ever since the party, and that he's willing to do whatever is necessary to keep Jimin by his side while keeping me at arm's length. But who do I have to tell about this theory of mine? One wrong word would mean the destruction of everything I hold dear.

Jimin tries to elbow Yoongi in the ribs, but he dodges it with the grace of a cat. "I never expected you to be into double dates!" he exclaims.

Yoongi looks directly at me. "I guess some things just surface over time, don't they?"

I look back. Let's tango, Mr. Min.

"They certainly do."

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안녕 여러분! I hope everyone enjoyed that chapter.
What do you think about Yoongi and Tae's dynamic?
And what do you think will happen next?
Let me know!

QOTD: Book recommendations? (outside of wattpad)

I've been getting into reading a lot these days and I need some
new books to read! I'm not much into YA romance, but other
than that, anything will do! And if I read one of the recs,
I'll shoot you a DM and maybe we can talk about it!

Until next time, happy reading!

Love,
Haneul