Waiting Game | pjm ✓

08. V

Frowning slightly, the man counted the cash once again in quick, swift motions like he had been doing it his whole life. A contented smirk creased his lips. Leisurely, he strolled down the hotel's parking lot until reaching his Chevrolet Impala convertible.

He finally got his money back and no one could ruin his day anymore.

Upon hopping behind the wheel, he took a deep breath in. It wasn't the fresh, crisp morning air he expected to inhale. Instead, what invaded his lungs was the suffocating smell of thick smoke. He scrunched his nose and looked around, his gaze casting over the fire engine in front of the massive hotel building.

He gave a slight scowl. Apparently there had been a fire somewhere inside. He had taken notice that the grumpy bodyguard was in a rush and perhaps that had been the reason. But Aera had been nowhere in sight which was strange considering her bodyguard shadowed her incessantly. He shrugged, not wanting to spend too much time thinking about that. He was done there and couldn't care less about those rich, spoiled brats.

He revved the engine and started driving smoothly, the wind ruffling his lustrous raven black hair. His hand slightly clasped the wheel, a tattoed "V" gracing one of his knuckles.

He continued driving, not paying any attention to the change in scenery. The luxurious, prestigious town area of the hotel was slowly replaced by one of the not so friendly neighborhoods in town. He didn't come to a halt until finally he pulled over in front of a rusty house, its roof sagged and door creaking under the swoosh of the wind.

"Well hello there, handsome," a female voice reached his ears when he slammed the car door behind himself. A curvy, petite brunette was standing at the door frame of the shop next to the house he had stopped in front of. "You must have had a good reason to leave your garage." she said, offering him a wide benevolent grin like she was happy to see him.

He pursed his lips, his fingers gliding over a tiny scratch on the Chevrolet. "It was good enough." He simply said, folding his arms in front of his chest.

"Why were you downtown?" she asked.

"Had to grab something." he smirked, giving her a suggestive look.

The girl's face fell. "Taehyung, are you dealing again?" her shoulders suddenly became tense.

Taehyung's gaze shifted blindly to the ground as he refused to grant an answer to her annoying questions.

"You said you were done with that." She scowled.

Taehyung rolled his eyes. Remarks such as this one made his blood boil. It was his own fucking business.

"I won't stand here and listen to you lecture me. You're just my nosy neighbor, not my mother, Kiara." he sneered. His pride got stuck in his throat. He couldn't possibly tell her that fixing cars didn't even begin to cover his monthly expenses. He needed money desperately, but it wasn't exactly easy finding a good job with no diploma. There weren't many things he was good at, except knowing his way around a car's engine and that wasn't very rewarding. At least not in that neighborhood.

"Taehyung, you're too good for this." her face softened.

"Oh, spare me the kind words," he scoffed. "I'm a low-life, Kiara. We both are. We're misfits. There's nothing good for us out there in the world. Life hasn't been generous with us, quite the opposite. And that's why we have to take whatever we can from it ourselves. So stop it with the prep-talk. I don't need it."

He stomped past her, but she started walking after him, nagging him like an old grandma. "That's just not true, Taehyung. There's still a chance for you to redeem yourself. You can be a better person, Tae-"

He whipped around, face smoldering with anger underneath the stony expression. "I said stop, goddammit!" he yelled, grabbing her by the wrist and jerking her slightly.

Instantaneously, an audible gasp escaped him. Upon the contact of his skin against hers, Kiara's pupils dilated immensely, making her eyes look almost pitch black. Her chest heaved as an almost predatorial growl left her mouth. Her whole body lurched forward, twisting and curling before she practically pressed her chest against his, arching her back.

"You smell so good," her voice was thicker, almost hoarse. "Taehyung, you're so hot. You're so sexy, I can't resist you..."

"What the fuck," Taehyung breathed out, giving her a dumbfounded look.

"Let's go to your room, Taehyung, I'll let you do whatever you want to me," her eyes were practically gleaming with a psycho sparkle now as she licked her lips repeatedly, bringing her face closer to his. "Fuck me, Taehyung. Please, fuck me!" she cried out, pulling at his shirt and ruffling his hair with her free hand. "Oh, I want you to fuck me."

"Get away from me!" he hissed, grabbing her by the shoulders and pushing her away so roughly that the back of her head hit the wall. "What the hell is wrong with you?" he panted, trying to catch his breath.

Much to his surprise, Kiara looked stunned. Mouth agape, she blinked slowly as if she was waking up from a trance. "What- what happened?" she asked under her breath, rubbing the spot on her wrist where Taehyung's hand had been.

"Don't give me that shit!" Taehyung shot back, still freaked out. His voice somehow softened after he witnessed her confused expression. "You mean you don't know what happened?"

Kiara stared back at him for a while before her whole face shifted as if she had been struck by a terrible realization. She suddenly became pale, whiter than a ghost.

"I'm sorry." She let out a whimper and before Taehyung could say anything else, she ran away, hiding her face behind her palms.

Taehyung's eyes didn't leave her retreating form until she rounded the corner. His heart was still hammering violently in his rib cage. What the hell had happened?