Fickle Flame | OT7

The Chains of Persuasion

"You shouldn't joke like that," Shayne cuts the water off. She waits a moment to see if Yoongi will say anything more. "Yoongi, that's not funny," she presses again, stepping out of the shower.

"Does it look like I'm laughing?" Yoongi glances up at her briefly before his face disappears behind his towel. He scrubs it through his hair before tossing it into a hamper in the corner.

Shayne stands there in silence, dripping onto the floor as she watches him move around the bathroom. He steps into his closet, coming out a few moments later with slim, black jeans and a white t-shirt on.

"You're lying." The words are soft but stated with surety.

Yoongi catches Shayne's eyes through the mirror, toothbrush working methodically. His attention goes back to his task. He spits into the sink, cupping his hand under the running water to rinse his mouth. He coughs softly, wiping his lips with a hand-towel that he then tosses onto the counter before turning and leaning back against it.

"You're right, I am lying," he concedes. Before relief can completely flood through her, he opens his mouth again. "They're not technically dead... yet."

"Yet," she repeats back to him. "Yet. Yet. Yet? What the fuck do you mean, yet?"

He grabs a towel and tosses it at her. She snatches it out of the air, but only clutches it in her fists, waiting for an answer.

"You do understand plain English, right? Yet. Exactly what it means. We got word this morning that Orin's liaison failed the first task. It's nearly impossible to come back from that, which means your clan will be the next grab. It's just how it works, doll," Yoongi explains with pure indifference, like he's talking about the weather or something droll like that.

Shayne shakes her head. Liaison? Task? Grab? "You're lying," she states again, her eyes dropping from his, searching the floor, trying to make sense of what he said.

Yoongi snorts a short laugh, "oh, right. Orin is one of the idiot clans that keeps its women in the dark about what really goes on in the world, huh?"

Shayne's eyes flash up, anger stealing across her features. "Fuck you," she seethes.

"Technically, I fucked you, doll." He turns and walks from the bathroom.

"Don't you walk away from me!" she yells, pulling the towel around herself and chasing after him. "Please," her voice breaks, her resolve going brittle as his words truly settle in, "please, tell me you're lying."

He casts a glance over his shoulder at her before bringing his attention to his boots he had kicked off last night. He teeters for a moment, balanced on one foot as he pulls a boot onto the other. "I'm not lying, but I can say I am if it'll make you feel better." He swaps his stance to tug the other boot on.

Shayne slowly approaches him, her hands twisting in front of her. Her knuckles are painfully white as she applies pressure to her own joints. "You said yet. That means... there's hope."

The chuckle that reverberates from Yoongi's chest makes her see red. How dare he laugh at her, at her sliver of hope. Before she realizes what she's doing she's clutching her hand, the stinging in her palm feels like fire. Yoongi is stone still, his face not even slightly marred. The sound of her palm connecting to his cheek echoes in her ears. She feels sick.

"That wasn't very nice," he growls out in a low tone. He takes one quick step toward her and she scrambles back, hurriedly.

She brings her hands up, palms out, as if surrendering. "I- umm, I- sorry. I didn't mean... I just-" she cuts off with a loud squeak as she bumps into the corner of his dresser. The sharp point digging painfully into her hip.