The Seven{BTSxReader}

C. 39.

"I left you alone for one minute."

You couldn't help but laugh as you entered the kitchen, hands tying an apron around your waist as your e/c eyes took in the sight of the two boys in front of you.

Namjoon's eyes were wide as they snapped towards your figure, his hands stopping as he tried to scoop up the white powder that now covered the floor.

Louis squealed in delight, a cute snort leaving him as he clung to Namjoon's back like some sort of koala.

Flour was all over both of them, covering them from head to toe.

Louis' chestnut curls were now completely white as well as his face. Namjoon was not in a much better condition, his dirty blond locks hidden beneath a thick layer of the white powder.

"We're helping!" Louis laughed.

Namjoon cleared his throat, eyes avoiding yours as he adjusted the toddler that sat on his back.

"I was going to put the flour in the bowl for you..." He paused, glancing around. "It didn't go as planned."

You let out a loud laugh as you shook your head, walking towards the supply closet on the other side of the room.

"I'll sweep up this mess," You started. "You two should go and get cleaned up for dinner."

You grabbed the broom from the closet, walking over to the large, white mess that the two boys had made.

Namjoon slowly nodded his head in agreement, letting out a quiet sigh as he took a few steps forward, lowering Louis from his shoulders.

"I can have one of the maids clean this up-"

You shot him a glare.

He closed his mouth.

"Right." He chuckled. "I'll go shower."

You rolled your eyes at the actions of the dirty blond male, eyes trailing after him as he made his way out of the kitchen, the young boy happily struggling to keep up with the pace of his long legs.

A sense of unwelcome peace overcame you.

You couldn't believe yourself.

In your time on this island, you had made yourself believe that Namjoon was nothing more than a selfish monster-a an who wanted nothing more than to keep you to himself and hurt anyone who had gotten in his way. To you, he was nothing more than a psychopath with homicidal tendencies. Why should you believe anything else?

Your brows furrowed as you began to sweep up the white powder, eyes trained on the bristles that gathered at the end of the wooden pole.

There was a time when you hated him. A time when you would have liked nothing more than to watch him die...to take him out with your own hands...

But now...

Was hating him the right choice? What he was seemed so black and white at the time...now, there was a gray area that you couldn't seem to move past. He kidnapped you and brought you to this island...but he did it to save your life and the people around you....that doesn't change the way he treated you...but it does, in fact, change things...doesn't it?

Your body bent down, sweeping up the flour into the dustpan.

He told you that you were good for him...that you somehow changed him...

But, what did you do? What made you so special?

If you hadn't gone to the club that night, you wouldn't have been put through any of this...You would have saved yourself so much trouble if you had listened to your friend and moved on...