Taehyung’s face is blank. He twirls a knife, nothing like a threat. It’s not even a promise, but a guarantee, a fact. Don’t bore me.

Hoseok smiles indulgently. He’s comfortable, lounging on the white leather couch like he belongs there.

“Why should I work for you?” Taehyung’s question is a valid one, tone pointed, sharp. Honed. Every inch of him is a blade’s edge.

“With me. Work with me,” Hoseok corrects gently, smile curving his lips. He disappears, reappears in the middle of the room with nary a sound, shark’s smile firmly in place. Taehyung was startled the first time. There are three knives embedded in the far wall as proof, but he’s over it now.

Hoseok, as he cheerily introduced himself as three throwing knives phased through him, steps closer. A lion stalking forward, lazy and powerful. King of the savannah.

Taehyung’s killed a lot of people over the years. A few times he even enjoyed it. He’s seen blood, guts, horrors beyond normal people’s wildest imagination. His eyes, dark and dead, some would say, are nothing compared to the horrendous hellfire that burns in Hoseok’s eyes, the screams and blood tucked away behind needle-thin teeth.

Taehyung can’t help but to take a small step back and the spell is broken.

Hoseok chuckles. “Why should you work with me, Taehyung?” His arms spread wide like he’s showing off a grand gallery of art, a palace. “First, I like the name. Starts hard, ends soft. It rolls of the tongue.” He smirks. “Like the codename too. V: simple, elegant. It’s the perfect calling card, and you’ve managed to strike fear into the hearts of those unlucky enough to know with a single syllable. A letter.”

Hoseok bowing shouldn’t be as threatening as it is. Taehyung objectively knows the eel-like pleasure reflected in the creature’s every move is frightening and wrong, but fear is no longer something he feels.

“Bravo.”

Hoseok disappears. He’s walking on the ceiling, hair perfectly in place. He leaves black, ashy footprints on the paint that smolder red before fading away. “I can bring you pleasure.” The sly tone of voice isn’t lost on Taehyung, but he also knows that Hoseok is smarter than that.

“I promise you danger. Death. Lying, fakery, betrayal. A challenge.” Hoseok reaches the chandelier in the middle of the room. His grin is savage. Taehyung catches his knife, holds it. With the touch of a finger, the chandelier goes out, plunging the room into darkness.

“I promise you fun.”