The Ringleader | knj

36

"I haven't had pizza for breakfast in ages," he smiled as he opened up the box, steam oozing everywhere.

"I haven't had pizza for breakfast at all," I sighed, reaching out for a slice. He slapped my hand away, snatching the gorgeously golden slice I had been after.

"First come first serve," he beamed mockingly, munching away at it. I scoffed, reaching for an even bigger piece that made his attempt to annoy me run in vain.

"I doubt your personal chef ever made you anything like this back there," he attempted a joke, watching as I began to take a bite. I froze a little, the traumatic memories of that household flooding into my mind again. He shuffled uncomfortably as he saw my face, biting his bottom lip in regret.

"Oh I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

I shook my head, smiling a little.

"Its okay," I said, the atmosphere growing awkward.

He cleared his throat a little as he tried to lighten up the mood.

"So, what kind of hobbies are you into?" he asked, reaching out for a can of coca cola. I snorted a little at his cliché question.

"Uh, not much really. Eating, sleeping, sometimes reading if I get the chance," I shrugged, dusting the crumbs off of my lap.

"You like to read?" He asked as a big grin formed across his face. I smiled, nodding.

"I mean I haven't gotten the chance to for a long time now, but when I do have time, yeah, I guess I do," I replied, smiling at his sudden outburst of excitement. "You do too?"

"Are you kidding? My room is literally a library! " he chuckled, his dimples protruding.

I stared at him, dumbfounded.

What on earth was Kim Namjoon, a man who liked looking up at clouds, admiring trees and reading novels, doing as the leader of such a notorious mafia gang??

"How did you become a part of this whole mafia shenanigan?" I asked curiously, watching as he smoothened the curves of his lips with a napkin.

He sat there, silently, his eyes slowly wavering upwards to meet mine.

"Why?" he asked, an eyebrow raised at my sudden question.

"Just out of curiosity," I shrugged, staring back at him.
He cocked his head to the side a little, stroking his chin with his fingers, contemplating whether I was a worthy subject to be trusted of.

"I see you still hold a grudge against me," I chuckled, watching as he began to grimace at the idea of telling me. He swallowed, shaking his head.

"I don't," he calmly said, his gaze sternly focussing upon the ottoman.

"Why the face then?" I watched curiously as he refused to gaze back at me.
He licked his lips, resting his head against the headboard of the couch, further contemplating.

"Jimin told me about Taehyung and Jungkook," I said solemnly, breaking the thickened atmosphere. The Adam's apple in his throat bobbed up and down as he swallowed.

"He did, did he?" He looked up at me, a serious expression placed upon his face.
I nodded.

"He trusts you," Namjoon blankly retorted. My lips parted at his comment, a feeling of warmth embodying me.

If Jimin actually trusted me, that meant that he knew I was innocent, and that my association with my family members was nothing more than being victimised and oppressed rather than actually being the cause of their problems.

"How about you?" I turned to him, curiosity filling my mind. "Do you trust me?"

He swallowed, still staring ahead at the blank wall opposite him.

"I don't trust anyone," he growled underneath his breath. I frowned at his answer, glaring disappointedly at him.

Despite everything I'd done yesterday in hopes of helping the poor wounded members of Bangtan, he still thought of me as untrustworthy?

Even after I'd listened to his every word, helped one of his members escape a terrifying gun rampage on the darkened side of the roads, he still wasn't prepared to think of me as loyal?

"Of course you wouldn't. You'd never trust people you use for your own benefit," I bitterly retorted, getting up to leave the room.

Suddenly, he grabbed my hand, dragging me closer to his darkened expression...