"Even ignorance can't hide the fact that you reek of death."
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Sometimes, a little teamwork is all it takes to rupture an empire.
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BTS AU
BTS JUNGKOOK X READER
GANG RING AU
BTS X MAFIA AU
100,000+ WORDS
*not actually about phantoms, lol*
Best...
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Jarring characters didn't pass you by too often, these days.
It was a hard task to really unsettle you.
Near impossible.
However, you could admit with confidence, that the character Reaper had—in the short moment that you had to exchange voices—left you completely, and utterly, ajar.
For a few minutes, you stood completely still in the centre of your kitchen, undecided of what to do next, and second guessing every approach.
This man slept in your lounge-room. Against the wall.
In your home. You didn't even entertain the idea that maybe you had let him in. No way. Because, never in all your years, had you ever once willingly let someone else into your home.
You hate invasion.
You can't trust anyone enough to let them in. Whether or not they're trustworthy people, there is always too much room for error.
Too much room for danger.
Distrust, betrayal, back-stabbing...
Your space is only for you. So, the man that had situated himself so close to your heart, must have let himself in.
Did he follow you home after the bar?
Maybe he brought you home?
But you were confident that your character never would have accepted help from someone you didn't know. You didn't know him. You barely accepted help from even those of whom you'd known for years.
And he's a stranger.
And what did he mean by 'now that you're well'?
Was he looking out for you? Or just looking at you.
Is that how you got into bed?
Is that how your curtains got closed, your shoes got unlaced, your jewellery got taken off and your phone got put on charge?
Was it him?
If so, why?
You closed your eyes in a desperate attempt to recall anything that happened after you met those men in the alley.
You couldn't.
Your memory failed you.
There was too much content to even begin sifting through. You didn't even know where to start. So, the first thing you decided to do, was plant the knife back in it's drawer.
You fell into a rotating seat by your kitchen island, and dropped the weight of your head into your palms, closing your eyes and breathing slowly.
