Loyal (Mafia!NamJin series) [WIP]

Chapter 3: Falling tears... [Kim Namjoon's POV]

I ask: "...mafia?"

Tears stain
and colors drain
from his face.

Tension fills his bedroom.
In my stomach, butterflies start to bloom.
The silence is stifling in this place.

His straight posture collapses as despair gnaws away at him. He trembles with fear carved into his bones and barely chokes out my name, "N-Namjoon..." I bend one knee and observe his eyes. He... he's crying. T-The tears aren't stopping as they travel down his pale cheeks. I don't have a handkerchief. God, I'm so incompetent in times like this. I reach my hand to his face and wipe one tear away gently with my thumb. He grabs my wrist from pure reflex and finally meets my eyes. Both of us have so many thoughts in our heads, yet we're at such a loss for words.

His grip tightens as he knits his eyebrows close to each other. He then drops his hold on me and mutters a small sorry in a hushed tone. "Y-You weren't... ever... supposed to know about this," he says scratchily as he takes small gasps for air, tearing up more with each word he says. I reassure him, "L-Look, this is all some misunderstanding between your father and I. Hey, I'll pretend I never heard about that whole m-mafia thing. I'll resume to my life, and you can go back to your own ways if you want-" He stands up and grabs my shoulders firmly. He begins lashing out at me, "Y-Yeah right Namjoon, like y-you cAN JUST SOLVE EVERYTHING. I'm in the fucking mafia for fuck's sake-"

He pushes past me, stomping his way to one of the drawers of his desk. He yanks at the drawer's handle and rummages his way through, pulling out... a g-glock. "I'm born into this damn business. There's zero control over me leaving. A-And there's zero chance of you... e-escaping," he explains as he waves the glock in the air, "I... I am so sorry." His frustration is leaking out, but he barely just pulls a lid over it. He tosses the glock onto his desk as his eyes stop flooding with tears.

"Now that I know about this whole mafia thing," I ask, "t-there's really no chance of me leaving now, huh?" Seokjin nods regretfully. He approaches towards me and lets the palm of his hand cup one of the cheeks of my face. After all that frustration he's released, h-he's so gentle. There's pity gleaming in his eyes. "Y-You're so... innocent. It's a shame it can't stay like this," he comments aloud.

"Seokjin, what are my options?" I cautiously ask with a slight drawl to my voice. He tilts his head to the direction of his desk and explains, "Option 1: you stay innocent and die at the hands of my gun. My family can't afford to let you go, even though you don't know much. Option 2: Join this mafia mess I'm in. We pretend what my father thought is true. You're Yoongi's replacement until he's fully recovered." I take a deep breath and swallow all my anxiety down. Now is not the fucking time. "Choose," he says.

"Stickin' with option 2. As someone in the mafia, what do I have to do as Yoongi's replacement?" I ask. Seokjin sighs and raises an eyebrow. "Are you really sure about this? You might regret not choosing option 1," he warns. I nod confidently. I still have a life to live. He grabs the glock and points it at my forehead awkwardly, as he's a bit shorter than me. My heart races drastically. W-W-What is he doing...?

"Tell me your full name," he says coldly as he presses the metal even more against my face. "Y-You don't remember me from school?" I ask disappointedly. "No questions allowed. Answer me," he demands. "K-Kim Namjoon!" I answer back. J-Jesus Christ... I told him I wanted to JOIN him NOT GET KILLED BY HIM. I am so fucking tempted to kick his balls with knee and slap the gun out his hand like they do in those thriller movies, b-but I have only one chance. I could screw up and really regret that. Just have to wait for the right moment.

We go through this really stupid interrogation...

SJ: Date of birth?
NJ: S-September 12, 1994
SJ: Blood type?
NJ: Type A, I-I think...
SJ: Hometown?
NJ: I-I said this in class for a project, remember?
SJ: What... did I say about questions?
NJ: Seoul-

Nearby phone: *vibrates with contact "Min Yoongi 🖤" showing on the screen*

I hear a phone vibrate and see Seokjin's iPhone X vibrate on his desk. Y-Yoongi's contact is showing... "You might want to pick that up," I suggested. His eyes leave mine and pay attention to his phone. Right! Here's my chance... I knee his balls and watch his eyes bulge. His hands gravitate toward his crotch area, dropping the glock. I manage to catch it! All that basketball practice paid off...

His knees drop to the floor, and so does the rest of his body. He lies on the floor, helplessly gasping and hissing from all the pain. I point the glock in the direction of his head as I walk to his desk and answer the call his phone won't stop shaking about. "J-Jin, I don't care how informal I sound right now. N-Namjoon's in your place!! Make sure your father does NOT think he's my replacement... J-Jin?? Hello??" Yoongi blurted into the phone urgently. When I said I have a life to live, I really do mean it.

I enable the speaker and put the phone onto the floor, as I see Seokjin's eyes never leave me. I slide his phone closer to his face, and his expression says stories... Seokjin still looks startled as he angrily mouths the word "bitch" at me. "Oi! J-Jin, fucKING LISTEN TO ME!!" Yoongi yells into the phone. I insist, "Go on... answer him." He takes a deep breath in...