𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑 || 𝐉.𝐉𝐊 ✓

⊘ • ❸❶ • ⊘

𓆩・༺ ꔫ ༻・𓆪

We took the longer route home to give Twix and Taehyung a little time to talk, which thankfully I could see them doing in the rearview mirror.

Barbie and I stayed silent. We kept our eyes on the road and any movement that we could see while driving home. I could tell by her silence something wasn't right with her, but I didn't want to intrude.

I can only imagine the heartbreak she's been feeling about Jimin and their baby. I'm not in her shoes, so I won't act as if I know her feelings, but I know it has to be difficult.

When we arrive at the house, Barbie parks the truck, and we all climb out. Taehyung, stepping up to the driver's side, slides into the driver's seat after Barbie gets out.

"I'll be back soon. I'm going to take this back where it belongs. We don't need any more necessary attention." He leaves shortly after that, and the three of us head inside.

We take the back entrance and quietly creep inside. We all mutter soft good nights and head in different directions.

Twix heads to the living room, Barbie heads to the downstairs bedroom, and I walk upstairs to mine where I hope Jungkook is still snoozing.

As I make my way carefully up the creaky steps, I enter my bedroom. Shutting the door behind me with ease, I start stripping the black clothing and put each piece into my chest. I open the chest and put the clothing at the bottom, then put notebooks and other clothing on top of it to hide it.

Now, with only my black tank top and black, thigh-length shorts on, I exit the bedroom once more and head to the bathroom.

I leave the door open as I walk into the room. I stand at the sink and grab a clean washrag where I scrub the remaining small amounts of makeup off of my face. I stand there for twenty minutes it feels like, rubbing my skin harshly.

At this point, I don't know who I'm more afraid of finding out what we did tonight, Jungkook or the mayor. Either way, each thought is distressing on its own.

Once the makeup is finally off, I brush through my hair and put it up into a ponytail. While I'm here, I decide to brush my teeth, too. It's a habit I've been occasionally forgetting about since our situation has turned so south.

When I'm done, I walk back into my bedroom once more and shut the door behind me. I slide into the bed this time. When I do, I feel his warmth next to me.

I'm freezing, but his skin is so warm it feels as if he's on fire. I find myself unconsciously wrapping my arm around him and spooning him.

Shutting my eyes, I feel at peace until I hear it.

"Where'd you go," although he's asking a question, his tone is shushed, almost with a hint of rage in it.

"Nowhere. Why would I go anywhere—"

Within one sudden movement, he's on top of me and pinning my wrists above my head with one steady grip. His dark eyes stare into mine as he hovers over my body, and his lips are straightened into a cruel line.

"Don't lie to me," he's serious now. His voice is not soft or comforting. He's rude, cold, and hateful, but it's not the first time I've seen him this way.