"Ahh, deeper, oh fuck."

Autumn nights are long and carry sweet scents of rain-sprinkled soils; they're quiet and stand out from the shorter, noisier nights of summer; the autumn breeze is a caress, a gentle peach breath that delights the senses, a salve for scars that couldn't heal in the heat of summer.

"Fuck, you're amazing...so tight."

The breeze coming from the window bothered no one although the shivers; in all cases, the fault lies with the sweat, with the diabolical droplets that kept forming and rolling down the curves of the busy bodies that found their purpose in exploring the heights and mountains of the forbidden lands, taking the brain out of the confusion in a walk to enjoy the paradise of forgetting, of oblivion.

"Ahh..faster, ah, I'm cumming, ahhh."

"Get on the throne, my queen; show me how fast you can ride."

And you were fast; he just didn't know it; you were quick to move on, to forget; actually, it was your prowess; he should have gotten to know your soul better before exploring your curves and every mole, but it doesn't matter, no, not at all, his time is limited, and when he's done the job, he'll be thrown away just like the previous ones, after all, he had only one task, to guide your brain to a momentary peace.

But damn, he seemed like a badly cut batch of white girl, providing a temporary high that lasts only seconds, only to be followed by severe nosebleeds.

But temporary or not, you couldn't care less; you didn't have time to go in search of a pure product to numb the pain, so over the throne you sat, enjoying the few minutes of oblivion where you will be taking your mind off the past, off the fucking cursed memories that have turned sour like a trauma that refuses to leave the brain for a second.

"Damn, girl, fuck this sweet pussy of yours; I'm drowning in it."

"Be quiet, ahh; be fucking quiet and fuck me good and deep instead."

"At your orders, my queen."

Everything was as usual; the house still reeked of alcohol from time to time, but now with a repetitive frequency. Still, it wasn't shocking; the sweet moans that filled the nearly empty room were nothing new either; you were a girl who knew how to satisfy her body, a woman who knew how to tend to mature desires; new men who shared only one aspect - striking beauty - were nothing the walls of your tiny apartment wasn't familiar with, they might be different every night, but they all looked the same under your sheets, all served the same purpose, all moaned in the same way when their lust exploded in one of the condoms you had procured before the adventure began.

Everything was the same if you look at the details, but when you look at the situation, nothing was the same; everything became deviant, new, unfamiliar, and that almost scared you; it scared you so much that you no longer needed these men to feel your femininity, to hear compliments and to satisfy your senses, you needed them to forget the guards that had been following you since you had returned to your apartment, and to forget the week you went off signal and disappeared, so that even your mother, who had never called, tried to reach you, only to leave a voicemail message asking you to behave a little and go to her.

You laughed at that message; you'd admit that it was the funniest; behave; should have seen how you behaved under the orders of two stranger men and one dear friend.

Every detail may have been the same, such as the fact that you were still straddling the fellow you'd brought home from the pub after trying out his skills in the stinky bar toilet, a result of his clinginess while you tested the tequila's abilities to see how many shots it now took to numb the pain, to make you forget that you hadn't only been kidnapped and forced to cooperate in a crime, but had also been abandoned by one of your dearest friends, whom you trusted blindly.

Such a fucked up world.

Everything was the same, your habits didn't change, but you did; you broke into shards, and not even Kintsugi could repair the damage.

The pieces were beyond small, and they were trampled on the rural house by elegant high-end shoes, the same way they trampled on the butts of dead cigarettes.

"Fuck yeah, ahhh, wooh."

"That was amazing, sweetheart; so, still refusing to share names?"

"It was good, indeed; thank you; I don't do sleepovers, so you can take a shower and leave or leave without it if you prefer."

Leave.

You wished for nothing more than to hear that word when you were trapped in that damned cabine. You wanted nothing more than freedom, but when it came, it came at a fucking price, and boy, that price was a lot higher than what your bank balance could afford.

But you left, and that's what matters; it's true, it wasn't easy, it still isn't, and you still ruminate on the week you spent in that house, under the guards Mr. Kim hired to watch over you, but mostly you think about the ambush and how he protected you from the slug rain that showered you when he brought you back from the barn.

See, you were confused and didn't quite know which pigeonhole to put this Kim in, but as much as you were sure he was bad news, you were also sure that Mr. Cha was nothing less than a son of a bitch, at times, while changing his bandage, you even thought that he deserved what he got, would have thanked the person responsible of his state had they came clean and confessed, but it seems as much as you didn't trust either the doe-eyed man or the crow haired friend of his, they didn't trust you either.

Everything was the same; the man left your house after being annoyed by the way you spoke to him. He told you that he felt used like a bitch, and that was a first for him, and you scoffed and asked if he needed money for a cab, which made him slam the door behind him in an attempt to enrage you, just like they always did; but you didn't care for even if everything was the same, three months ago, you didn't have a black Mercedes parked in front of your condo, watching your every move and following you in every destination even if it was a simple toilet break in a restaurant or café.

True, you've been set free just like you demanded, but the price was that your freedom was only partial. However, you could still consider it freedom if you want to be optimistic and follow Kim's advice: "Always look at the full part of the cup, Doctor Lee; don't tire yourself looking at what's empty."

Three months have already passed at the speed of light, but you still vividly remember every event that took place, especially after your attempt to escape that failed miserably.

"I don't wanna give Namjoon's friend a taste of my wrath; besides, you're my guest, so this is what we'll do: we'll go back in a civilized manner without using violence; can I count on your understanding?"

You have proved that he can rely on your understanding indeed; you once put your luck to the test and concluded that it was rotten; it would do no good to try it again; therefore, like the good girl you're, you went back to the hut, glancing now and then at the man beside you, who made no expression, no anger, no fear, nothing to suggest his next move; enigmatic, just like the labyrinth in which you found yourself, although having done your best to avoid danger and troubles.

But when you had almost reached the runaway to that damned country house, you began to sense some of his emotions; well, only one, but at least you saw it, and it was evident: worry.

When the first bullet was fired, he put you in cover between his arms, right next to his heart, which beat faster than yours, you reckoned, and it took only seconds for the doe-eyed innocent fairy to come to the rescue with two gats, one of which he threw to the man covering your trembling body, and with the other he covered for him until they started shooting in unison against the unknown enemy.

Well, an enemy that you considered could be a friend, according to the saying: the enemy of my enemy is my friend.

But you were sourly mistaken, so wrong that you thought to yourself, sometimes it's better to keep your thoughts in check; they're dangerous.

"How the hell did they find this place?" J asked Kim, who was still shooting unerringly and doing his best to bring down the man shooting at him.

"Cha, the son of a bitch must have told his men to come here if he wasn't back by dawn," he suggested, and when you heard his explanation, you began to wonder if you'd ever get out of this place alive.

Taehyung didn't move an inch without holding you in his embrace. You couldn't even see from which direction the bullets were attacking you, and for that, you were grateful, although you'd have been even more thankful if he hadn't put you in that situation in the first place.

But it wasn't him; you should have known better than to accuse him of something he didn't do.

Minutes passed like years, robbing you of your lifespan just as he robbed you of your freedom. And just when you thought your adventure in the human world was over and you were preparing for a trip to the afterlife, the shooting manifestation came to a halt, and two more men came and bowed to the two men you had the pleasure to meet that night.

Or the disgrace, not so sure.

"We took them out, sir. We checked the area, no one is following. Seems like his personal guards; we caused no damage, made sure to aim at the legs only."

Oh no, other patients would storm your emergency room, it seemed. Had you made a business out of it, you might have made quite a bit, paid the loan sharks in full.

"Take them inside," J commanded while you were still hidden like a lost child between Kim's broad shoulders, perfectly shielded from unpleasant sights and far from the bitter wind that would have rendered you sick had he not shared his warmth with you.

"Are you all right?" He asked, as he shook you by the shoulders and examined your body to see if any harm had touched you, "answer me, doctor; don't zone out on me now."

Concerned, that's a new emotion and the first one he's expressed since you set foot in that damn cabine.

Worried, just like you felt, and you couldn't be more grateful to karma.

"You're a fucking gangster." You accused, and with your words, he sighed deeply, releasing the worries and heavy guilt that had piled up on his chest, "You're a fucking thug, but let me tell you something, you're playing with the wrong person, and you're going to regret it big time."

You stood up abruptly and straightened your dress, which had jumped up to your thighs, leaving you vulnerable to his forlorn gaze and weak, as indeed you were, weak, like a deer in the clutches of a lion.

As you turned to leave him behind and enter the place you flew from less than an hour ago, Taehyung grabbed your wrist and stopped your movement before you could reach any further, "It's dangerous; stick around until they check the house and make sure everything is okay," he suddenly pulled you by the waist, making you hiss at the sudden movement, he brought you closer to his body that somehow felt familiar after you spent about fifteen ample minutes near him, familiar to the point where his cologne no longer felt strong and intrusive on your nose, where his breath no longer felt scorching on your skin, but exuded warmth, "Stay close, even if you don't like it, because believe me, I don't like it either. Are we clear?"

You'd blame it on his gaze or perhaps on the gun in his hand, but you found no remnant of courage in you to retort, and though you'd have preferred to spit in his face, you shooed away the urge and nudged him lightly with your hands resting on his chest, "Crystal."

Words were of no use; complaining seemed childish and wasn't even considered; hence, the cooperation that you provided, extracting the bullets out of the fired guards and helping Jungkook tie them up in the wine cellar.

Everything was the same, your work routine, your practice, the patients, but the loan sharks that no longer haunted you drew difference, and the absence of the notices you used to get from the bank and sometimes from the court reminded you of events you wanted to forget in order to enjoy the life you got back.

Everything was the same, but your dreams, which became nightmares and woke you up every night gasping and drenched in sweat, weren't familiar; they were a new phenomenon you gained from the short week you spent in Incheon.

These nightmares were clear, like a movie directed by the best directors to ever exist, full HD providing you scenes that were cut and edited to perfection; yeah, everything was the same, but you changed.

You now have blood on your hands, helped some criminals you knew nothing about except that your dear friend Namjoon was one of them; you violated your principles and helped them blackmail the man they harmed, not that you pitied him, no, not at all, you pitied yourself.

"What the fuck, Kim; have you finally lost your brain?"

On your fourth day there, Namjoon finally came to check on you, and the first thing he uttered was the one mentioned above.

Reprimanding a stranger as if he weren't the one to blame in the first place. Funny, really funny.

"Calm down, Namjoon; it's not I who brought her here. Besides, we're being considerate of your friend. No need to worry."

At that time, you were changing Cha's bandages; taking care of his wound was your main task during your staycation, feeding him three times a day without relent and giving him his antibiotics on time; Jungkook had sent his people to fetch the medicines although they needed prescription, but that wasn't your jurisdiction, as a plastic surgeon you had no way of prescribing such medication, not to mention that the police would easily track you down if you had done that.

It was bad, very fucking bad, but you couldn't be blamed for what was going through your mind; they screwed you, he screwed you, and he was your friend; how could he do that to you? How? So you didn't think about the consequences of your decision when the smell of revenge clouded your senses, nor were you willing to let the opportunity slip away.

Taehyung had told you that Namjoon knew him well, that they worked together. Still, he refused to tell you what kind of job they had, even though you were almost certain that they were all some kind of criminal organization. However, he denied it several times, but that didn't matter; you didn't give a shit because all that mattered was that your friend was one of them and willingly put you in danger; so when you heard Namjoon's voice from the living room, you considered using Jungkook's phone that he had left on the stand in Cha's room, even though you were skeptical about whether you could use it to save your own ass.

But such is life, and life is fucking give and take; Namjoon had given you, and now it was time for him to take what you'd give.

You didn't need a passcode at all, for you had to call the only number that didn't require an unlocked phone.

"112, what's your emergency?"

"I need help; my friend kidnapped me; please help me; there are injured people, ple—

Sad, life is sad; an unjust, ugly bitch, that's life; you wondered where karma was and why it hadn't manifested its justice yet, but when you looked at the man in front of you while he was checking the phone register to see who you were in contact with, you stopped thinking about useless questions and figured it was time to pray instead.

You watched closely as he pulled the sim card out of the device and threw it away; he didn't say a word as he did so, and you saw it as a chance to explain your position.

"It wasn't against you but against my friend; you have no right to interfere in my business just as I do my best to keep out of yours, Kim."

You got no response, no rejoinder, positive or negative; all you heard was Jungkook's voice murmuring words that didn't interest you, "No, Kim, no," you didn't know when he came, figured he heard you or just followed his friend to check on his victim, but you regretted that you had diverted your attention from the man standing in front of you, for it didn't give you a chance to register how his hand painfully met your cheek.

It was loud, whether it was the sound of the slap or the way you fell to the ground with a dull thud, loud enough to set Namjoon off, and you wondered what hurt more, the slap Taehyung had given you or your pride breaking miserably before your enemy.

"Are you insane?" Roared Namjoon as he approached you; when he touched your face, you wanted to vomit.

"Take this woman to the cellar, J, before I commit a crime; I don't want to see her here," Taehyung ordered in a tone you've never heard before.

"We had a fucking accord, and this isn't it, Kim; let her go, now," Namjoon demanded, and you still didn't feel like spitting your venom at him; you were still stunned by what had transpired.

"She tried to call the police on you; you know what that means, don't you?" Taehyung bent down to your and Namjoon's height, gave you a look you couldn't decipher, and left you in silence as he continued, "That would ruin everything I've worked hard for so far; Do you think I'd let that happen? If you want to go to jail, then go alone, and you," he pointed his index finger in your direction, "if you have something planned against him, then get it done when you leave this place, okay?"

Yes, everything was the same; the air was still heavy with humidity, the fine dust still polluted it and added to the heaviness, the birds still chirped on the trees as they did every morning, but your nights weren't the same after that week, they lost their peace to the chaos brought by your nightmares, and every time you woke up gasping, as you did now, you wondered when you'd be able to dream of something other than the events of that cursed week.

Everything was still as you had left it before you took your car and drove toward your consternation, but it also seemed quite different as you sipped your glass of water to calm yourself while you looked out the window, thinking it would be better to get used to your present and all the baggage it brought with it, finally being convinced to live the life that fate had forced upon you, deal with it like the adult you're, and move on, finally accepting the changes that transformed your simple life, even though they were invisible to the eyes of others until your eyes fell on the person who brought those changes into your life in the first place.

The glass of water fell to the floor with a dull thud, heavy breaths, and trembling hands as you moved away from the window and went to fetch the hoodie, ready to flee to wherever if it means keeping what was left of your life safe.

Fuck!

A/N

Miss you so much; how are you doing?

So, what do you guys think about all this; any theories?

What about Taehyung? Namjoon?

Votes are appreciated 💜