"It's probably not the story you'd expect," you say with a sigh, "it wasn't until I was almost an adult. I was seventeen when everything changed. After I graduated high school, I didn't want a job. I didn't want college, I just wanted to feel alive. I guess I've always been this way. Fucked up, I mean. I know this life is terrible, but I don't know what else to do. I know that's no excuse, but it's the only one I have. Maybe we just have to accept how terrible we are."

"Well, no one's denying that," Jimin says, and you can't disagree.

"As for how I actually got in the mafia, that's a rough one. It was luck. Good or bad, I'll let you choose. I was walking down the street one night, same street I took every night. But that night was different, I was walking home and heard shouting from inside an abandoned pizza place."

You pause to shrug. 

"I don't even know how it happened, but I ran inside and saved the man who was being attacked. It was that moment that changed everything. The man there, he took me in. Trained me in various martial arts for several years until I became his best assassin."

"Mr. Jeon?" Jimin asks, and you blink, then remember your lie. 

"Eventually, yes. I saved a higher up, but Mr. Jeon took me under his wing." 

You mostly said all that to cover up your split second hesitation. That night you really saved Min Yoongi, the leader of your mafia. Truthfully, while with Jimin tonight, you completely forgot he was your target. You just saw him as... what? A fuck buddy? No, he doesn't feel like one. It feels too passionate; too real. 

"That's how I got in," you say. 

"Sounds like a tough time." 

"Don't give me sympathy. Neither of us deserve it. I chose this world, and I could've easily walked away that night, but I wanted in." You hesitate for a moment. "How about you?" 

He keeps brushing your hair with his hand, softly sighing. "I started around the same age as you. I took to the streets and hung out with what my parents called the 'bad kids', and it just went downhill from there. My parents and I fought a lot. They tried to send me to a mental hospital, but I ran away. Ever since, I lived on my own, started breaking into houses to get money, and found random places to stay. It worked out. Other than the times it didn't and I got locked up."

"You've broken out of jail a lot, haven't you?" you ask, and he hums. 

"A lot. Because of both my training and connections." You nod, taking it all in, but then, he continues. "I have no friends or family," he admits, moving his hand from your hair to your cheek. "But now I have you, Y/n."

He leans forward and kisses you, you kissing back right away. To your surprise, the kiss doesn't turn hot like it normally does, he just goes gentle. When you part, he lets out a breath. 

"Dinner," he whispers. 

You shoot up a brow. "Huh?" 

"Let me take you to dinner." He pauses. "Please?" 

You smile, your mission fading away. All that matters right now is him. "Okay." 

He kisses you again, and that's how the rest of the night goes: lost in his embrace.