➵ 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐉𝐄𝐂𝐓: 𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐒 [𝐊.𝐓𝐇]

"By god, Taehyung- this is my BOSS!"

Taehyung's whining and muttering was starting to get on your nerves.

"I'm telling you, pretty one, do not go in this place!" he eyed the large, elegant, brown building in front of you with distaste, crossing his lean arms over his chest, which made his muscles ripple slightly.

No, you certainly weren't distracted, where would THAT even come from?

"I go in there every DAY," you groaned, throwing an arm out at the museum where you had landed an internship about a year ago, "and nothing has attempted to murder me yet."

"YET!" Taehyung cried, pulling you away from the smooth, glass double doors by the neck of your sweater. Not even minding that you swatted him away with a glare, he continued jabbing an offending finger at the building. "Once you go in there with a whiff of demigod on you-"

"For god's SAKE, Taehyung, keep your voice down," you hissed, Taehyung's loudly-yelped words attracting a few odd stares in your direction.

After you two had left the coffee shop, it had only taken a few minutes to make your way to the museum with Taehyung's sword nestled safely in the backseat of you car and a cover story drilled into your mind. You did not expect an easy in and out, of course, but you hoped Ms. Adra wouldn't kick you out of the museum for it.

You were reasonably sure she wouldn't. Reasonably.

"Fine. It matters not, because I can sense the monster blood in there and I am NOT letting you go in," Taehyung said, his voice lower now, his gaze commanding and dominant. Scoffing, you turned away from him, breaking the fiery eye contact.

"And who says you get to decide what I can and can't do?" you raised an eyebrow at him challengingly, to which Taehyung's face darkened. His eyes flickered a deep red for a moment before they smoothed over, still harsh.

Were you in trouble?

Well, it would pretty damn well seem so.

Arm lashing out suddenly, Taehyung's long fingers wound themselves around your wrist, the material of your sweater under them suddenly seeming thin, too thin. His pulse jumped in time with yours, his skin hot.

He pulled you closer to him, jaw ticking, tongue rolling in his cheek, veins in his neck jumping.

"Baby," he growled, the sound sending ropes of heat flaring all over your skin, "listen to me. I will not have the one mortal who can connect me to the world outside me gods-be-DAMNED prison killed because she couldn't follow orders like a good girl."

Haha... well good holy Jesus f*ck. I'm dead, aren't I?

Taehyung was close. Far too close, with a hard mask on his face and tensed muscles you could feel pressed right up against you. Okay, well, you were going to snap out of it (easier said than done b*tch), because manipulating you with overwhelming hotness was NOT going to work (funny, because it really was working).