The Black rose (Minsung ff)

All yours..

Minho casually retrieved a stack of papers from his drawer and placed them on the desk in front of Jisung. The contract looked daunting, thick with clauses and paragraphs that seemed to stretch for miles. Jisung's heart sank as his eyes skimmed over the words—legal language he didn't understand, sentences that felt like a maze designed to trap him.

"Just a standard contract, to ensure you won't leak any of the information you've seen or heard," Minho said, his voice smooth and calm, as if this were an everyday situation for him.

But this was anything but normal. Jisung's fingers trembled slightly as they rested on his lap, trying to hide the nerves coursing through him. He was still trying to wrap his head around everything.

Just hours ago, he had been a prisoner in a cold, dark cell, and now he was sitting in Minho's office, clean, dressed, and in an environment that felt worlds away from the torment he had just endured. He Hadn't fully realized the situation he'd gotten himself into.

Minho was sitting across from him, acting as if they were merely discussing a business deal. The contrast was jarring, and Jisung wasn't sure if his body had caught up with the shift in circumstances yet. His skin still crawled with memories of the chains, the interrogation, the helplessness. He glanced down at the contract again, swallowing thickly.

He should read it. He should take the time to understand what he was about to sign.

Minho slid a pen across the desk, the sharp click of it hitting the wood making Jisung jump slightly. His nerves were still frayed, and every sound felt amplified in this moment. The weight of Minho's gaze on him was overwhelming, making it hard to think clearly.

"All you need to do is sign," Minho said, his tone casual but with a subtle undercurrent of command.

Jisung's eyes flicked between the papers and the pen, his stomach knotting with anxiety. What choice did he really have? He was trapped in this world now, a world he never wanted to be a part of, but one he couldn't escape. The Black Roses had him under their thumb, and this contract—whatever it said—was just another reminder of that fact.

For a brief moment, Jisung considered asking for more time, for a chance to read through it all carefully. But the thought was fleeting. He was exhausted, mentally and physically drained. All he wanted was for this nightmare to end. Signing the papers felt like a step toward freedom, or at least something resembling it.

Minho must have sensed his hesitation because he leaned forward slightly, resting his chin on his hand. "You should really check what you're signing, princess," he teased, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

Jisung's breath caught in his throat at the nickname. The way Minho said it, the casual yet intimate way he addressed him, sent a shiver down his spine. There was something so infuriating about it, but at the same time, it made his knees feel weak.

Minho wasn't acting like the cold, ruthless leader Jisung had expected. He wasn't shouting or threatening him; instead, he seemed... amused. Almost playful.

"I... I know," Jisung muttered, forcing out a nervous laugh. "But I don't really have a choice, do I?"

Minho's smirk deepened, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "There's always a choice, Jisung. You just have to be brave enough to make the right one. You could either sign the documents and gain freedom.. in some sort of way atleast, or go back to that pretty little cell."

Jisung blinked, taken aback by the response. He wasn't sure if Minho was trying to reassure him or toy with him. It was hard to tell with him; every word felt like it held a double meaning. The playful edge to Minho's tone made Jisung's nerves flare up again. What did he mean by that? What was the "right" choice?