Namjoon turned to see flailing arms and desperate scrambling for a pen and paper. He didn't want to crouch down again (leg day was yesterday and his thighs still felt weak) but did so anyway, keeping his crisp black pants from even brushing the mud ruining his shoes. He held in a groan at the mess he'd have to clean up.

Looking down into the window that nearly touched the ground, the six footer strained his back to look at her sign she held.

What do you have for me?

What the hell did that mean? She didn't really think he'd give her information on her own kidnapping? He scoffed, nearly laughing at the sheer audacity. Jennie Kim would ask a kidnapper how to escape. Honestly, he wouldn't doubt her asking a mobster for directions to the arsenal, so she could destroy the mob. She was arrogant just like in high school. And to think she'd changed.

He groaned as he started to stand again, but her fists pounded on the window--once. Once so that she could keep his attention while not alerting his team upstairs. The team that was probably wondering where he went.

Please, read her new sign, dried out pen scratched over and over for it to barely show. But he understood. He stared into her eyes through the thick storm glass, tears far from her face, raw pain replacing it.

Pity. He felt pity. And he hated himself for it. Because no matter how much she humiliated him in the past, bullied him relentlessly, or ruined his only college opportunity, she didn't deserve to be kidnapped. But at the same time—she did. The deep fury and resentment in Namjoon told him that she deserved to feel every shard of pain. She deserved to feel every breath of humiliation, suffering, depression. Namjoon would never wish any of his experiences on anyone, but seeing Jennie Kim begging like a dog below him, he finally felt... powerful.

She might not deserve to be trapped in a basement, held hostage by strangers—but she deserved to be trapped in her mind, shut off from her social life, shut off by her endless supply of success and wealth and beauty. She deserved it all.

He stared down at her, dimples embedding his cheeks as he grinned at her, yet not revealing his perfect, white teeth. He pulled out his phone and went to his notes app, typing in a message and pressing it to the glass just as Jennie whipped her head around and scrambled to her feet. Namjoon immediately rose, stalking back to the back door of the house and entering like nothing happened.

Yoongi stood at the top of the doorway, looking at Jennie suspiciously, but not prodding.

"Come upstairs, Jennie," he said. "There are important people wanting to meet you."

Jennie fully rose to her feet, dropping the book to the ground, pages tucked within it and the pen stuffed in her jean pocket. She hadn't been able to see what Namjoon said. The bastard took too long contemplating his life story than responding to her. He just stared, completely unnerving her. Could he see into her soul? Were Death Eaters able to do that?

She stopped on the first step of the rickety stairs, her hand clutching the railing. "Are you going to let me go?"

Yoongi's face fell, but Jennie couldn't read what hurt him. Was he sad that he couldn't let her go? Did he want her to stay? She hoped he mourned the latter. Jennie didn't care how lonely he was or how desperate he was for physical contact; she needed to leave. She needed her life back.

After staring her down for what felt like hours, Yoongi turned on his heel and started back up the stairs, leaving the door open for Jennie to follow him.

Jennie took the stairs slowly, holding onto the railing like a lifeline, a tether to world below her while she emerged into a new one above. Yoongi waited for her at the top of the stairs, tapping his foot impatiently and looking bored out of his mind. He held out his hand and stopped her where she stood two steps away from the new world.

"You try anything—I have six other guys up there who would not hesitate to kill you." His face was stone cold, all trace of emotion absent from his eyes.

Jennie's breath hitched, her heart rate increasing, fear plaguing her striking features. She nodded rapidly, her nails digging into the wood her hand clung so desperately to. She didn't know if she even wanted to meet those people. Maybe the basement wasn't that bad; it was better than being dead.

She stared at his outstretched hand. She refused to take it. Whether it was spite or fear or plain inability to move, Jennie couldn't touch him. Him, who could've let her go, forgot about the stupid dare, who, for all she cared, switched his pick to TRUTH!

"Come on," Yoongi urged. He dropped his hand to his side and he turned from her again, walking into the room ahead of him.

Maybe she needed this. Maybe she needed other human interaction, a glimpse of life outside the basement. She looked up and into the room, where natural light flooded in and feet tapped waiting for her. She could do this. She had to do this. For a chance at escape. For a chance at freedom.

For a chance at life.

With a deep breath, and an anxious pounding of her heart, Jennie stepped into the world above.

hiiii friends! wow. it has been so long since i've written one of these blurbs at the end. thank you so much for being patient and i can't wait to finally start updating regularly!! i love you all <33

qotc: if you had to choose one fictional book to take with you on a deserted island, what would it be?

aotc: crooked kingdom by leigh bardugo. hands down!