A World of our Own | K.TH *COMPLETED*

Perfectly

So when I had asked why in the world would the police be after all six of them, this was what all six gave me in synchronized unison.

A shrug.

When V had seen my face growing even more and more venomous, he'd taken me by my arms and had sat me down on the couch. Ignoring the other boys' teasing, he'd waved at Namjoon to explain.

Everything, of course. If he'd left out anything anymore, I might as well kill him. And besides, Namjoon seemed to be the best speaker out of the three— who had already begun acquainting themselves with the other boys.

So here we were in V's room, with V slumped against the headboard of the bed, Namjoon leaning against the doorway, and me plopped comfortably next to V.

"It's a long story," He warns as he chooses to stretch out on the small couch on the side of the room. "And probably includes things that you won't be happy to hear."

"I'm okay with it," I urge, impatience already getting to me. "So how far do you live away from here?"

Namjoon stops me right there. "Before that, I need to inform you some things about our past. How us three and V met, of course."

So I stay silent as he launches into what might've been the most eloquently worded, best flowing story I've ever heard of. Namjoon has this way with words that sucks people in— and doesn't leave room for distraction.

"I'd heard only later, but V's father had sent him to the orphanage we were in— lying about his identity and relationship. As Seokjin had described before, it was very tricky getting close to this boy." Namjoon waves at V, and I can see the corners of his lips perk up in a smile.

"But we did, eventually. Unfortunately, just weeks after that, the lies that his father had concocted was discovered. V had to be sent back— and remember, this was all when he was eight."

His eyes rise to the ceiling as he recalls the events in his brain. "And a few days earlier, I'd gotten hold of V's mother. We'd wanted to know how the boy had fared after all these years— and you know, we missed him."

My eyes dart to V, who's pretending to be asleep. But by the way his cheeks warm a bit, it's clear that his heart has too. These people really had strong connections— I especially marveled at the fact that a decade had passed, but they'd come all this way to check on someone from their childhood.

"And on the way here," His serene voice take on a note of sheepishness as he continues. "Me, Jin hyung, And Hoseok got into a, uh, a fight."

When I raise my eyebrow at him, he throws up his hands in exasperation. "What were we to do?! Hoseok pissed them off by pointing out that their hair was about to fly off! He's too nice for his own good sometimes."

Besides me, I feel the bed shake with V's soft, silent laughter. His lips are now curved a perfect semicircle, his eyes a dark lashed crescent.

"Anyways," Namjoon emphasizes. "They were pretty burly— and not to mention big. We could've taken them if there were only three or four, but there were six pissed off gangsters— not much we could do about that."

From the wall separating us and madness, we hear the sound of pillows crashing against each other as the boys laugh like maniacs. At the noise, we freeze for a second. And then we burst into helpless giggles.

"Okay," Namjoon settles down first, ignoring the battle cries ringing from the other room. "So we were about to get pounded, but then those three boys appeared literally out of nowhere, I'm telling you. Absolutely nowhere. But instead of helping us fight those people, they helped us run away."

"On the way of running for our lives, they told us a bunch of things. First of all, they had a safe place where we could hide out— which turned out to be your house. Second of all, they had been policemen, not some bunch of random gangsters."

By now, my laughter is loud enough to rival the ones going on in the other side. I can hear the bed shaking even harder beside me, and know that V is suffering from the same symptoms I'm going through— severe laughing disease.

"I'm pretty positive that they'll probably give up soon, considering it's just dumb to chase after people who caught them with their wigs. So yes, that's the general story. Anything else you need?"

Still trying to prevent myself from hiccups, I nod quickly and wave at the door. "Uh, if the pillow fighting bothers you, there's another room where you can sleep. It's the second door to the right."

As an involuntary yawn escapes the older man, he nods gratefully and exits the room with a "good night." When the door opens for a split second, I can hear Hoseok yelling for mercy and Suga's dismissive words as he slams a pillow on the boy's head.

"I think they're getting along pretty well out there," I quickly say as I shut the door, just so I don't have to see anymore violent scenes— it would give me nightmares. And I'd hate to dream of Suga knocking me out with a pillow with that expression on his face.

V smiles, as if he knows what's on my mind. Eyes half-closed and drowsy, he wraps his arms around my body as he pulls me closer to his chest. The room is chilly with the weather outside, and he proceeds to tuck a blanket around me.

As if his warmth wasn't enough.

The tension melting from my body like ice to fire, I let my eyes close as I whisper words that make me sound like I'm drunk. Maybe I was— anything could happen when you were this close to Kim Taehyung.

"You're awfully sweet lately."

His chest rises and falls against mine as he blows out an exasperated breath. He's getting ready to speak— and it pains me to see that he has to prepare like this just to get a couple words out of his lips. He shouldn't have to do this. He shouldn't have to be going through this.

"Do you......not like.....that?" I feel his throat contract and expand in strain as he struggles to push out a couple more words. "I.....could....go back." With that, his arms loosen as he slowly draws away from me.

"No!" My voice comes out so loud that he flinches with surprise, considering that my lips were inches from his ear. At his shock, I quickly clap my mouth shut before whispering a hushed apology.

"I'm sorry."

"It's fine. It just—" All of a sudden, a sharp series of coughs interrupt his voice, and his face twists in pain. My eyes grow wide with panic as he grasps his throat with his hand.

"Shh!" I exclaim urgently, easing his hand off of his throat. It would only become worse if he applied pressure to the sensitive area— just the tiniest bit could bring him more pain. "Save your breath— don't try to speak. Please. It'll just hurt you."

Even though he must still be in a considerable amount of pain, he stiffens his features so he looks like there's nothing wrong with him. At the attempt, anguish crosses my heart— sharp and heavy.

But there is something wrong with him. Why is he trying to hide it?

"I don't want you to go back, V. I think you misunderstood my intentions— I never meant to impose it that way." Keeping my finger on his lips so he wouldn't be tempted to be speak, I bury my head into the familiar crook between his neck and shoulder.

My head fits perfectly. As always— and as will forever.