19: The Matador

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It's a massive room with warm cream-colored walls and a queen-sized bed that he opens the door to and allows you to enter into.

The bedspread is a jagged gold-and-green print, like solid chunks of forest and minerals have been stitched into the fabric. The rest of the room compliments it with gold, green, and brown accents scattered about, meshing warmly with the soft walls.

The room smells like vanilla.

"This is yours for the time being," Jin says with a gracious smile, playing host. "Bathroom's through that door there, and if you're hungry, the kitchen's downstairs and to the right."

At his words, your gaze flys to his lovely face in surprise.

"I'm not gonna be locked in here?" you gasp, eyes roving wildly around his face as you search for an answer. The room is beautiful and comfortable, but you were prepared to go stir-crazy in here for however long they decide to keep you.

You can't believe he's actually letting you wander around their house.

"Of course not," the eldest chirps. "You're a guest here. A very well-observed, slightly limited guest, but a guest nonetheless."

A guest.

You snort in amusement, but don't argue.

Leaning a hip against the doorway, Jin continues on in a slightly firmer tone. "You're aloud to move around, but remember this: all the doors are locked. The windows are shatterproof. You can't get out, Y/N, and if you try to then we'll have no choice but to lock you in the White Room again. Understand?"


You nod in agreement, attempting to hide the inner workings of your mind from showing through your eyes.

You might not be a skilled escape artist or a talented criminal, but surely you can find a way out. Wether it's crawling through the air vents or slipping out the doggy door, something from those spy movies has to actually work.

Jin might say they're trying to help you now, but that doesn't mean you trust them. They're keeping you here for a reason.

If they didn't have a purpose for you, they would've let you go instead of keeping you restricted inside the house.

"I mean it, Y/N."

Your eyes had slipped to the floor in thought, but they jerk back up when Jin speaks again. He's watching you warily. You think that maybe you're not as good at hiding your thoughts as you wish you were.

"Also," says Jin, "Jungkook doesn't actually know that you're out of the basement yet, so I'd expect a visit from him in approximately-"

"Hyung!" The voice is a viscous roar blasting down the hallway and ringing in your ears.

"-now," Jin sighs, massaging the bridge of his nose. "In approximately now."

Stomping footsteps march on the floor, and a furious Jungkook charges toward you. His eyes are burning black in hot fury, ebony hair ruffled around his face as if he's just woken up. His T-shirt reveals a hint of the bandage covering the wound at his shoulder, and his sweatpants are cinched above his bare feet.

The sight of him makes your spine automatically stiffen in irritation. 

"Why is she out?" Jungkook hisses. He reaches the two of you, ink-covered arms crossing over his heaving chest.

Looking at you with exasperated eyes, Jin says under his breath, "I'm the oldest. I'm the oldest. I'm the oldest."

He turns to face the youngest head on, a pretty matador facing down a raging, snorting bull stuffed in a pair of sweatpants.

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