{h} the butterfly effect : bts gang au

XXIX.

"This was an unexpected surprise," Namjoon begins once he closes the door behind me. The room is still dimly lit with the only real source of light being the computer screens displaying street cameras on the back wall. It is the same room we had our previous meeting in, and it still holds the same doom feeling. I can't believe I agreed to coming here. "I'm not sure if it is a good surprise though."

"It's not," I say with utter bluntness. 

The lights are switched on with a flicker, illuminating the center table that has many different folders and papers thrown askew on top. I hear a slight murmur from Namjoon behind me as he treads towards the head of the table where I assume he typically sits. As such, he pulls the black leather chair out and sits, staring at me with an intensity in his eyes that is hard to decipher. 

I stay standing, perched at the other end with the pictures still at hand like a quivering child ready to tell her mom that she broke her favorite vase. I'm still, but it feels like every bone in my body has turned into pudding and that I'll turn into a puddle right here and now.

Namjoon leans back in his rolling chair, elbow settling on the arm rest and his hand placed below his chin in a quizzical and intrigued position. 

I take a deep, shaky breath before speaking, "It appears that the Zealots have been following me for a while."

It appears? 

It's definitely very clear that these wackjobs have been following me long before I knew they existed and long before I learned the extent of what BTS does. I don't think I'll ever know the full extent.

His expression does not change; he is still staring me down and his silence urges me to continue.

"These pictures were in an envelope that was taped on my front door," I convey as I lift the papers slightly which only shows emphasis on my nervousness. My hands are shaking very slightly, and he certainly notices. I feel so small in his silent presence and I almost wince when I make eye contact with him, his poker face not wavering. "One of them is from the day Taehyung killed Got7."

This information seems to perk his interest, but not in a good way. He shifts slightly in his seat, finally taking his glare off of me only by closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. 

"Show them to me," he declares softly despite his body language indicating that he is frustrated with this knowledge. I seem to be making everything surrounding the future of the group a million times more difficult and worrying by presenting this to him.

I hesitate for a moment before sheepishly making my way around the table and to where he is, knowing that there is a picture of Jimin with me as well. Namjoon doesn't even wait for me to hand them to him before he reaches over and takes them from my hand, and as if on cue, he looks at them the same way Jungkook did.

His look is hostile, yet concerned that their present conflict has been an issue for much longer than he even realized. I feel myself mirroring his look as I do not even know what this all means for them, for me.

"When was this?" He asks with no emotion in his voice, gesturing towards the picture of Jimin and I getting coffee together.

"His birthday," I respond.

He is silent once again, flipping from one photo to the other a few times before flipping them over to reveal the taunting words. Big Brother is always watching. Whatever the hell is that supposed to mean?

"They knew you would show this to us," Namjoon declares. "They really do seem to be multiple steps ahead of us."

"What does this mean?" I inquire towards the text sprawled out on the back. I truly have no idea.