There’s always a slight panic whenever you wake up in a place that isn’t home, that isn’t the typical mattress that your body has come accustomed to. Your mind has to play catchup with the other senses that have already gone into a frenzy. Eventually, memory kicks in and panic subsides. 

Waking up in the bright white bedroom in the house of a supposed mafia member caused that panic to stay a few moments longer, even after I remembered where I was and how I got here. As soft as the mattress was and as nice as the furniture pieces looked in their designated spots, this place was still as dangerous as when I first gained consciousness on the couch downstairs. That sense of worry, that teetering on the edge of fight or flight - it would be what kept me alive. 

Slipping slowly out of the bed, I glanced at the jeans I had thrown in the corner before falling asleep. With any luck, I would have my night clothes in time for bed again tonight. The horror of any one of them coming into the room while I wore only a shirt made my skin crawl. I narrowed my eyes at the door. There was a lock. 

Good. One minor point on my scoreboard. Still down by twenty. 

Still stiff from waking up, I stretched out my back and arms before noticing two duffle bags laying just inside the door. Cautiously, I walked over to them, crouching down and ping the larger black bag. It was overstuffed with recognizable shirts, jeans, and even a few extra pairs of shoes. The second bag was filled with underwear, socks, and the oversized sweater that I had been sleeping in lately due to the colder weather. A smaller toiletry bag was squeezed into one of the corners. Oh, thank god, someone even remembered that I had a uterus.

With the toiletry bag in hand, I made my way to the bathroom, desperate for a shower. I’d caught one whiff of myself and I was sure not even the cartel would come near me. Besides, the idea of scrubbing away where the men had carried me the previous day felt like the ultimate cleansing ritual. The hot water dotted wonderfully against my tense shoulders and neck. Occasionally, a fews suds of shampoo made it in the wound on the side of my head. It stung and I in air through my teeth in response, but I would consider it worth it in order to get rid of any trace of that alleyway from my body.

I found a blow-dryer under the sink and once I felt that I was presentable (and brave enough), I left my room to venture downstairs to the kitchen, my stomach urging me along. Whenever I passed by a window, there always seemed to be a different man dressed in a black suit walking along the perimeter. It looked like even if I wanted to escape, I wouldn’t make it five feet without being snatched up again.

Leaving wouldn’t really do me any good anyway and, besides one particular host, the boys seemed… decent enough. Mafia members they may be, but they didn’t act like the Godfather, at least not towards me. They were dangerous, no doubt about that. Each one had carried a gun on them and, despite their smiles, had a coat of red dripping invisibly from their hands.

The kitchen was empty when I entered, surprising myself with the seed of disappointment that planted itself in my stomach. Kyungsoo was decent in the kitchen and, even if he didn’t actually live here, I was hoping breakfast had been laying in wait. However, it didn’t seem like any of the others were here in the house and Sehun seemed to imply that I was mostly on my own. I searched the cabinets, finding plates, bowls, and bread, among other normal kitchen supplies that I logged away for later. I swiped the bread, along with a plate and cup. In the fridge was plenty of butter and orange juice. While the bread was crisping up in the toaster, I searched for cinnamon among the spices.

“Gotchya.” Three rows in was a small canister of cinnamon. A nice sweetness for the morning. 

While waiting for the toast to finish, I noticed the plates from last night’s dinner still lying out on a mat on the counter.  Shrugging to myself, I began to put them away, a sad yet odd attempt to make myself somewhat useful.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Shoot!” At the sudden voice, the plate in my hand slipped. It hit the corner of the counter, but I was able to catch it with my other hand before it shattered on the tile. Wouldn’t that have made Sehun like me even more.

Jongin laughed as he stepped further into the kitchen. “Nice reflexes.” He stopped and leaned on the counter to my left, now barely a few inches in between us. Though he wasn’t quite as tall as Chanyeol or Sehun, he still towered over my small five-foot-three frame. His eyes were… strangely kind as he stared down at me, but there was definitely a hint of mischief in them. “I’ll finish this up. Sehun should have done it earlier. It’s his house.”

I didn’t let go of the plate as his fingers wrapped around the rim, unable to look away from the amber spiced eyes. The toaster went off, breaking the trance.

Jongin motioned me away with his head. “Go eat.”

Untrusting of my voice, I nodded and walked over to the toaster. With too much concentration, I buttered the toast and sprinkled on a small coating of cinnamon. Jongin frowned at the action, but I ignored it.

When he was done with the rest of the dishes, he joined me at the island, leaning on his elbows to close the gap in between us. Normally I would have hated my bubble being exposed like this, but for some reason, with Jongin, I didn’t mind so much. My heart was still pounding hard in my chest, but it wasn’t from fear. At least, it didn’t feel like fear. Not entirely. 

“Is that all you want to eat?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

I picked up the second slice of toast. “Yeah. I’m still trying to wrap my mind around all of this so my stomach can only handle so much.”

“I know this seems scary,” Jongin said, softening his voice, “but ultimately we are trying to protect you. It’s not your fault that you got dragged into this. We can be reasonable and we know that you’re not involved in this.”

Finishing off the slice, I took a sip of OJ before asking, “How did you all believe me so quickly?”

“Kyungsoo,” he smirked. “He’s like a human lie detector. There’s something about his brain that lets him pick up on small clues that give away the lie. His observation skills are amazing, if a bit scary. He could tell you weren’t lying about what you knew, how involved you were.”

I let out a deep breath, thankful for Kyungsoo, but also a bit worried. Now that I’d found the chip, if they asked me again, I might not have been able to hide it.

“You know,” Jongin leaned in closer to me, causing me to look at him, “you have really beautiful eyes.” Blood rushed to my cheeks, sending a heat wave through my body. I scratched the back of my head, too embarrassed to say anything back. He laughed, “What?”

“Nothing,” I shook my head, my eyes falling away from his face.

Jongin bent his head, putting himself in my line of sight again. “What is it?”

“It’s, um-” I cleared my throat. “It’s just, no one’s really commented on them like that.”

His thick eyebrows pulled together at my words. “Really? That can’t be true. Stormy eyes like that aren’t found here, typically. Surely someone has told you before?”

I shook my head again. “Nope. People just usually stare at them. It makes me uncomfortable, actually when they do that.”

Like a switch, Jongin straightened, his eyes darting for anything to look at that wasn’t me. “Sorry.”

“No, no, no,” I waved my hands frantically, nearly knocking my glass over. I caught it just as Jongin reached out for it as well, our fingers grazing against each other. I pulled away first, occupying my hands with my hair. “You’re fine. Other people don’t talk about my eyes when they’re staring. It’s usually some dumb pick up line or other nonsense that’s coming out of their mouths. They all think since I’m a foreigner I should be easy.”

“The easy ones are never fun.”

I turned to see Jongdae smirking in the entryway. He leaned against the frame lazily, his hands in his pockets. The handle of a gun peeked out under his jacket. Pushing off, he strutted towards the two of us.

“Yixing needs to see you, Wren,” Jongdae removed one hand from his pocket to point at me. “He said he wanted to check the stitches. Kai, Suho needs to see us.”

Confused, I glanced at  Jongin. “Suho?”

“It’s Junmyeon’s official name in the organization,” he explained. “Only the inner circle calls him Junmyeon.”

“Oh.” I stood up, draining the glass of OJ and picking up my plate to take it over to the sink. 

Jongin quickly swiped both dishes out of my hands. “I’ll take care of this,” he volunteered. “Go on.”

As I passed Jongdae, he said with a cheeky grin, “He’s in the infirmary.”

Yixing’s back was to me when I arrived at what would probably be my least favorite room in the house. He didn’t seem to realize that I’d arrived, continuing to tinker with whatever tools were laid out on the steel bench. I cleared my throat to get his attention.

“Oh, Wren!” He smiled after looking over his shoulder at me. The dimple in his cheek made it impossible not to smile back. It didn’t feel like it belonged here, in this room or in “Sit down on the bed, please.”

I obeyed quickly. With the thin blankets wrinkling under me, I felt a bit like a child waiting to get their annual shots at the doctor’s office. Snapping on a pair of gloves, Yixing carried over a chrome tray holding cotton swabs and alcohol.

“Is it hurting you?” he asked gently.

I answered honestly. “No.” He pushed back my hair and readied a Q-tip. “It stung a little bit when I took a shower this morning, but besides that it’s fine.”

He nodded, concentrating on the task in front of him. I hissed as the alcohol hit the still mostly open wound. “Sorry. Don’t want you getting an infection. Just take extra caution when bathing. It shouldn’t do any damage, but better safe than sorry.”

“Alright.” I chewed on my bottom lip, curiosity eating at me. Yixing seemed to be the most open. “If I had a question or two, would you answer them, Yixing?”

His hands paused for a moment before he looked down at me. “If they’re something I can answer, then sure.” After throwing the Q-tip away, he removed his gloves and sat down on the stool in front of me. “What are your questions?”

Unable to look him in the eye, I stared down at my intertwined fingers. The tips were turning red, but I couldn’t loosen my grip. “You guys really are some sort of… underground criminal organization? A… mafia?”

“Just one among a few,” he answered honestly, without hesitation. “We’re arguably the strongest, though. One of, at least. Most others answer to us, ask us permission before moving anything through our territory. But of course, that means we have plenty of enemies.”

“Like the Chinese cartel?” I guessed. He nodded. “So, how come you’re with the Korean mafia? You’re Chinese, aren’t you?”

He narrowed his eyes at me. “What makes you think that?”

I giggled awkwardly. “Your name kind of gives it away.”

“Oh,” he laughed, showing that dimple again. It was a higher pitched laugh, almost childlike. “I guess that is obvious. Outside our circle I go by Lay. Hardly anyone knows I’m Chinese.”

Too curious for my own good, I couldn’t help but continue my search for answers. “How did you end up here? I mean, how did any of you end up here?”

Sitting back, Yixing ran a hand through his jet-black hair. “Most of them grew up in it. Junmyeon’s family has run things for about five generations now, Minseok’s family right along with them. Kyungsoo and Jongdae were plucked out of the orphanage. Junmyeon’s father found me in the streets while on business in Beijing. I’d witnessed a deal go down and, having mercy on a ten-year-old kid, he took me in, paid for my education. I guess he figured it’d be useful to have someone like me around.”

It took a moment for me to soak this all in, to keep the new names and backgrounds straight in my head. Out of these nine men, none of them had a choice in this life. Having that information made it really hard to hate any of them.

The watch on Yixing’s wrist beeped. When he checked the message, he sighed. “They need me at the meeting. I doubt you’ll really see any of us today. Last night’s events are bound to have some big repercussions.”

“That’s all right,” I replied, slightly relieved. “I think I need the space.”

“Understandable.”

We left the room together, but parted ways in the hallway. 

I headed back to my room, wondering how I was going to occupy myself for the rest of the day. The duffle bags containing my clothes seemed like a good place to start. Since I didn’t know how long I would be stuck in this mansion, it seemed like the best thing I could do was make this place feel like some version of home, however minute that feeling could be.

The walk-in closet was stocked with rows of empty hangers. So, one by one, I started filling them up, even going so far as to coordinate the shirts based on color to stretch out the time. Then I moved on to hanging up the pants, feeling a bit foolish as I typically put them in drawers, but since the hangers were there might as well use them. A waist high white dresser sat against the right wall of the closet, perfect for the rest of my clothes that couldn’t be hung or wouldn’t fit in the closet. Setting everything up like that felt as if I was permanently setting myself here. A proverbial nail at the beginning of the road. 

I took extra time organizing the bathroom, separating the makeup from the cleansers from the shower supplies. The walls of the bathroom were white with gray accents on the trims and tile backsplash. It felt different from the rest of the dark wood aesthetic in the house, but I liked it. Almost as if this was my own little world, separated from the rest of the mansion and the dangers it possessed.

Unfortunately, even after making the bed and laying out my clothes to sleep in later tonight, the whole process only killed about three hours. Another two were spent just lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling, unmoving, trying not to think. Then, I remembered Yixing said they would all be out for most of the day and Sehun had said I could go anywhere as long as the door wasn’t locked.

Jumping up, I left to make my way down the hall. I stopped at every door, tugging on the handle to see if it would open. So far, the only ones that did were merely extra, unused bedrooms, each with a different color scheme. Though the temptation was certainly there, I didn’t dare open the one Sehun had pointed out as his.

Down on the first floor, I found a formal dining room with another door that led to the pantry, acting as a connecting hallway. It seemed an odd set up, but could also make for a quick getaway. 

Two doors in a row were locked, making me curious but with no way to satisfy it. The room I really wanted to explore was blocked by two large dark wooden doors. The keypad that kept me out was high tech, mocking me with its shining screen and box full of wires. Though still achingly curious, I gave up and moved on to the next door. It opened up to a home gym. Three of the four walls were covered in mirrors and the ceiling dotted with bright fluorescent lighting. There was everything from treadmills to free weights to a punching bag. Now it made sense why the boys had packed some of my work out clothes as well. I logged into my brain the location of this door and wandered around some more.

Eventually, I ran out of places to explore so I stopped by the kitchen, threw together a sandwich and headed back to my room. Scrawled out on top of the comforter, I finished off my pathetic dinner and stared at my dead phone. No charger had been packed, which was unsurprising. I didn’t see one lying around, either, so there was no way to power it back up. The black screen seemed to mock me. I wanted to know what on the chip was so important and if that’s what my captors were after. I couldn’t even be sure if I’d be able to see it on my phone. 

Jongin’s face entered my mind. What if I could somehow get the information out of him without being too obvious? 

No, I wasn’t that good of a liar or manipulator. I’d feel too guilty and would probably slip up. He would figure out what I was doing in two sentences. 

Tossing the phone to the side, I sighed heavily and closed my eyes. I was in a dangerous place. I had to remember that. I mustn’t let go of that. 

I didn’t leave my room for the rest of the day. 

**

A week went by and I was starting to get used to my new surroundings. Every morning was a battle to even leave my room, but once I was out in the hallway, I was able to relax. I still kept that mentality of this place being dangerous, but the lack of interaction or life-threatening situations made my initial arrival seem like an odd fever dream. Most of my time was spent wandering around the halls, trying to find any resemblance of an activity to curb my boredom.

Though they were constantly in and out, whispering in hushed tones as they passed me in the hallways. Their eyes would flicker over to me, following me as I walked on. It was uncomfortable, but ignorable. Until the day I was nearly run over by Baekhyun as I exited the kitchen.

“Whoop, sorry,” he laughed as he helped me restabilize my balance.

I stared at him, confused as to why he was laughing rather than scolding me for being in his way. He was so much like a little kid, it was hard to figure out how he could possibly be part of this dangerous life.

Baekhyun snapped his fingers in front of my face. “Yeesh, did I cause brain damage? Or am I just that pretty?”

I scoffed as I shoved his hand out of my face. “I’m just trying to figure out how someone like you is considered dangerous.”

“You’d be surprised at the chaos Baekhyun can cause.” Chanyeol walked up to the two of us, towering over all of us, including Minseok and Jongdae who followed closely behind. The former frowned at me, keeping his distance. Jongdae, however, closed the space between us fairly quickly, trapping me in as he leaned his forearm against the doorframe above my head.

“We’re all more frightening than we look,” he smirked down at me. I shrank back until the wood was digging into my spine. Trapped. I refused to look around and let him know that I was terrified. “But you seem like the type to be able to handle that.”

“Bad boys have never really been my type,” I snapped back. That’s right, Wren. Snap like a cornered puppy. That’ll really show them. 

Baekhyun snickered. “Aw, why not?” 

My eyes flashed to him. Here I was, surrounded by men with guns and completely cornered. I crossed my arms. “My father’s a prosecutor. I was raised to obey the law. I have a general dislike of people who enjoy breaking it.”

“Prosecutor’s daughter?” Chanyeol laughed. “Then you should love bad boys. Bring the danger to your life that being the good girl leaves out.”

“Like Romeo and Juliet,” Jongdae added.

I rolled my eyes. “Life’s not a love story. In reality, falling for the bad boy will get you killed.”

“Sounds like you’ve got a stick–”

“Jongdae, back off now!”

All four of their heads whipped around to the sound of the order. Junmyeon, like a dark-lit savior, came stomping down the hallway with Sehun closely behind. The guys obeyed without question, shuffling back to give me space.

“Wren is a person we are protecting from our enemies,” Junmyeon growled, his face hard with irritation, “not a girl in the club. You will treat her with respect and not a mouse in a trap. Got it?” They nodded, the smiles wiped from their faces. Junmyeon moved his gaze over to me. “Any of them give you more trouble like this, you report it to me.”

I also nodded hastily, relieved that at least someone had my back. My eyes jumped to Sehun, who simply watched the scene with boredom.

“You all have something you should be doing. Get going.”

Without protest, they hurried down the hallway, leaving me alone with the leader and my handler in silence. I expected a sort of pseudo apology from Junmyeon, but I guess I expected a little too much. Instead, he gave me the once over and then continued down the hall. Sehun threw an unreadable look in my direction and followed suit.

**

After that, the boys were less… evasive. Around Kyungsoo and Yixing I was most the comfortable and didn’t feel the need to press against the wall every time I passed them. Jongin put me on edge in a different way. I wasn’t scared of him, but my mind told me to proceed with caution.

The one person that eluded me, however, was the owner of the house. Desperate for some sort of connection that I had no need for, I decided to take my explorations one step further. 

I’m not sure what exactly I was looking for - if anything at all. In the bedrooms that I had barely glanced at earlier, I now went back and searched them deeper. I felt silly looking under the beds and opening the empty closets. Maybe, I decided, I was trying to find some sort of evidence that Sehun wasn’t an emotionless robot. 

Each time I ran into the owner of the house he either glared at me or completely ignored me as if I didn’t even exist. While I wasn’t expecting four star customer service, it would have been nice to even be able to hold a five second conversation with him. But alas, the rooms that he clearly didn’t need gave way to no indication of who he was under the scowl.

Bored and having given up, I went back to the living room and sat down on the couch, unsure of where to proceed from there.

The house was quiet. I didn’t deal with this kind of absolute silence very well. It forced me to hear my own heartbeat in my ears, setting off a strange feeling of over self-awareness. Locating the remote, I switched on the giant TV that was mounted on the wall, not caring what channel it was turned to. The news flickered on, the weatherman talking about the outside temperature for the week.

After tossing the remote down next to me on the cushion, I pulled my knees up to my chest to rest my chin. I hardly paid attention as it went from the weather to a humanitarian piece to something political. 

That is, until the anchor announced a double homicide near the café. The camera barely got a glimpse of John and the unidentified man being zipped up in body bags before a police officer shoved it away.

“So far there are still no solid leads from last week’s homicide. One of the victims has been identified as Korean-American business man John Park. While the identity of the second man has not been released, it is believed that he is a member of the Marge, a notorious gang famous in the area. If they are involved, one can only assume the possibility of the involvement of the mafia group Ex-”

The TV went black, cutting off the reporter. I looked down to see the remote was gone. Standing behind the couch, Sehun frowned at the reflective screen.

“Reporters are always jumping to conclusions,” he murmured.

“So was she wrong?” I asked sarcastically.

“No,” he said matter-of-factly. “But there’s no evidence of our involvement at the scene, we made sure of that.”

I went back and forth on the next statement that sat on my tongue. Finally, it forced itself out.

“Which one of you killed John?”

Sehun silently stared down at me with narrowed eyes before putting his hands in his pockets and letting out a low whistle. “None of us. It was the other man you saw. He shot John. Chanyeol’s actually in a bit of trouble because he killed the man in reflex instead of bringing him back here. I wouldn’t say they were friends – not even close – but they’d worked a couple jobs together, so he had a soft spot for John. He shot the other guy without even thinking it through.”

I wrapped my arms around my legs tighter, staring down at the floor. “Why did he kill John? Do you know?”

He pursed his lips. “I don’t have a clear answer, but I suspect John knew something they didn’t want to get out. Or maybe he betrayed them. With John, it could be anything. He played all sides.”

I didn’t want to, but I believed him. I didn’t know enough to contradict him.  

“Come on. Kyungsoo’s made dinner.” He didn’t wait for me as he turned to leave, which wasn’t surprising. I slowly stood and followed him from the living room. My stomach roared at me, feeling neglected.

Undermining expectation, Sehun passed through the empty kitchen and into the dining room. The rest of the men were already sitting around the table, waiting. Jongin saw us enter and waved me over to take the empty seat next to him. The plate was already full of food so I hardly paid attention to my surroundings, focusing on the food entering my mouth, until Baekhyun poked my shoulder.

“How was your day?” he asked with an innocent smile. The question was so ordinary that it threw me off guard. It was a very different persona than the one from the other day.

I shrugged. “It was a day, I guess. There’s not really much to do around here.”

Baekhyun’s smile faltered. I wasn’t sure what kind of answer he had been expecting. “Well… what would you normally do?”

He caught me as I was taking a bite of a spoonful of rice. It took me a moment to chew and swallow without choking. “Um, I don’t really do a whole lot. I mostly just go to work and stay home. I watch a lot of movies and re–” Realization hitting me, I dropped my spoon onto my plate. “!”

Jongin’s fingers wrapped around my arms protectively. “Wren, what is it? What’s wrong?”

“My job!” I groaned. “Since I’ve stopped showing up, it could cancel my visa and then soon I’ll have a warrant out for my deportation.”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” Jumyeon cut in. I stared at him in confusion but he kept on eating as if he’d only commented on the weather forecasted. “Your supervisor has been… contacted. Your position will be there for you once this is all done.”

I stared at him in disbelief. I didn’t want to think of how my supervisor was contacted or how Junmyeon was able to secure my job without a timeline of when I could go back. “Th-thank you.”

To my surprise, the corner of his lip twitched, as if he was fighting a smile. “It’s the least we could do since you got dragged into all of this.”

The table remained quiet, the only sound being from the scraping of bowls and clinking of glasses.

That is, until Jongdae decided to break it. “Hey, Baek, heard from Tae Hee recently?”

Baekhyun grabbed a roll from the basket in front of him and threw it at Jongdae while sending a panicked side glance at me. “Shut up!” The bun bounced off of Jongdae’s forehead. 

“Don’t you dare even start that!” Junmyeon ordered with such authority that Baekhyun slid down a little in his seat. Jongdae dropped the retaliating bun that he picked up from his own plate. 

“Who’s Tae Hee?” I couldn’t stop myself from asking as I looked around the table. 

Jongdae started laughing, along with a few other snickers from some of the other boys.

“Tae Hee is the perfect example as to why you don’t just pick a random girl out of the crowd to take home,” Minsoek explained vaguely.

Baekhyun, on the other hand, was not finding this funny. “I had too much to drink. I didn’t think she would stick to me like this!”

“So you have heard from her?” Chanyeol guessed.

“Not since I changed my number,” Baekhyun replied. “She was never supposed to have it.” He turned and looked down at me. “Do you know how frustrating it is to change your main contact number when you’re the head of a major division in a very complicated underground organization?”

It was a rhetorical question. Of course I would have no idea, but I answered him anyway. Just probably not how he would expect.

“You guys just bring random girls home all the time?”

Shock fell on almost every single face around the table. It was a very naive statement for me to make. They were grown men and it happens all the time. I wasn’t sure if I expected them to be a bit more secretive about their homes or that maybe they all had significant others. A sudden horror ran over me. Would I be forced to see Sehun bring random girls who were free to leave once he was done with them?

Chanyeol, Baekhyun, and Jongin looked down at their plates, playing with their food with an awkward air. Sehun scoffed, shaking his head. I could feel my own face turning red at my question. I tried to determine if sliding under the table to hide would be a good escape or be just as embarrassing.

“S-sorry,” I stammered out. “I, um, I just–”

“Formal attachments are dangerous,” Yixing answered. “For us and for the other person. Not to mention it’s hard to find someone who can accept our line of work.”

“It’s not an every night thing,” Jongin insisted. “We’re people, too, and we get lonely sometimes.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.” I wanted to run up to my room. Jongin had been the nicest one to me here and now looked like a kicked puppy. “It’s just that I… well, I mean….”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” Junmyeon interrupted, understanding what I was trying to say. “We’re on high alert right now and liaisons like that are off limits. It’s too dangerous. And you never know what stalkers someone might take home.” He smirked at that last comment, staring straight at Baekhyun.

Baekhyun threw his hands in the air. “One crazy! I accidentally get one crazy and you guys never let it go!”

Rolling his eyes, Sehun stood up and left the dining room, taking his dirty dishes with him.

“You know,” Jongdae mused, “as our maknae, you’d think he’d be able to laugh more.”

Jongdae’s words ringing in my head, I watched over my shoulder as Sehun cleaned his dishes, rinsed them off, and set them on the drying rack. I never would have guessed that he was the youngest, just from the way he carried himself and his tall stature. He seemed to have the world on his shoulders from the way he took everything seriously and never really loosened up.

“He hasn’t been the same since–” Chanyeol started but was cut off by one scary look from Kyungsoo. I didn’t realize that such a terrifying glare could come from the chef. That urge to ask what Chanyeol meant burned on my tongue, but this time I was able to hold it back. It very obviously wasn’t my place. And I didn’t want that look directed towards me. 

Gradually, they all finished their food and left the dining room table, following Sehun in cleaning their dishes before disappearing all together. Soon, the only two remaining were Jongin and me.

“Do you guys eat here every night?” I asked to fill in the silence. Jongin’s plate was empty and was merely waiting for me to finish in my slow-eater ways.

“Not typically,” he answered after taking a sip from his glass. “With all the chaos going on, we’re having to conjugate a bit more. None of us are complaining, though, we love Kyungsoo’s food.”

I nodded, moving the leftover bits of food around on my plate with a chopstick. “And when you guys do have to get together, do you always meet at Sehun’s? Jongdae said he was the youngest, so I would assume–”

“No, usually our meetings take place at Junmyeon’s.” Jongin picked up my dishes along with his and went into the kitchen. I followed, not bothering to protest his gentleman-like actions. “His house is more convenient since it’s in the middle of the compound we all live on.” He the faucet after rolling up his sleeves and started to rinse off the plates. I tried not to focus too much on his exposed, toned forearms, a constant weakness of mine.  

“I can do that,” I offered, feeling guilty that this was the second meal he was cleaning up for me. Gentleman or not, I could still do things for myself. I started to reach for the plates, but Jongin pointed the hose at me threateningly.

“Stop. It’s not a big deal,” he chuckled, squeezing the nozzle just enough for a few drops to jump out. “You’re the guest here.”

Giving in, I leaned my back against the counter, crossing my arms. “If Junmyeon’s house is more convenient, why do you guys keep meeting here? Not that I don’t enjoy the break up the company brings, it just seems weird if you all of a sudden change your meeting place.”

“Since you’re here, it keeps you better protected with us around rather than no one but Sehun’s men.” Jongin put the plates on the drying rack. “They’re good, but we all feel better with us around too.”

“Okay, then,” I pursed my lips. “Why don’t I just stay with Junmyeon?” That made the most sense to me. Leader equaled absolute protection. 

Jongin held up his index and middle finger, water dripping from his tanned skin. “Two reasons. The first being that, though Junmyeon’s place is heavily guarded by his men, Sehun’s place is actually more secure. He’s a big technology buff, so this place is wired up and locked down. I’m sure you noticed all the different locks on the doors.”

I nodded, tapping my finger against my chin. “And the other reason?”

Jongin cringed, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. “Well, it’s kind of his punishment.”

“Punishment?” I screeched rather loudly.

“Shh,” Jongin hissed. “No need to be loud. But yes, his punishment. You see, it was Sehun’s idea to go after John during the meeting rather than grabbing him before. Junmyeon let him be in charge of the whole thing, but since things didn’t really go as planned, you got stuck here.”

Sighing, I picked up the linen towel and started fiddling with it. “That explains why he’s been so cold to me, I guess.”

“No, that’s just Sehun,” Jongin corrected before taking the towel from me. He dried his hands as I opened my mouth to ask a question, but he stopped me. “Don’t ask. I know what you want to know, but that’s where the honesty stops.”

I threw my hands up, palms out in defeat.

“Now,” he hummed, checking his watch, “it’s still pretty early. You said that you liked to watch movies, so why don’t we watch one real quick? None of us will be home at all tomorrow, including Sehun, so you should probably get quality time while you can.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. Quality time with Jongin. “Sure. Why not?”

We made our way back to the living room. It seemed like everyone else was gone and the house was back to its eerie quietness. Jongin sat me down on the couch and the TV, switching it over to one of the many apps installed on its drive.

“Anything you want to watch in particular?”

“Not really,” I yawned.

“Romantic comedy?” he offered, a cheekily gleam in his eyes.

I shrugged, sinking down into the couch and ignoring what he may or may not have been secretly laughing at. “Honestly, I’ll watch almost anything.”

“Random button it is.” Jongin clicked on the little wheel in the corner and the streaming service brought up a movie at random. From the opening credits, it seemed to be some sort of Hong Kong gangster movie. I choked back a laugh at the coincidence. Even Jongin let out a chuckle as he sat next to me, leaving several inches of space between us.

Unfortunately, the subtitles were only in Korean and, while I could read it without too much effort, they were going by too fast for me to read them and then translate in my head. Combine that with my exhaustion and I hardly paid attention to the plot of the movie. About half an hour in, I fell asleep.

I woke up again to little jolts rocking my body. For a moment I ignored them and dug my face deeper into the couch cushion. Until I realized that it wasn’t the couch that I was snuggling up against. My eyes flew open and I looked up to see Jongin’s face only a few inches from mine. He didn’t look down at me even as I tried to squirm out of his arms.

“It’s okay, we’re almost there,” he whispered. The hallway was dark, the sun long gone and moon barely making its appearance in the sky. 

“You could have woke me up,” I gurgled.

Jongin laughed quietly. “You were too cute to wake up. It’s not that big of a deal. It’s this one, right?”

I looked over at the door, my tired eyes squinting at the door. “Mhm. It’s this room.”

Again, I tried to squirm out of his arms to walk into the bedroom, but Jongin held me tighter as he opened the door with the hand that had been cradling my back. He walked straight to the bed and laid me down on top of the blankets.

I propped myself up on my elbows and look at him as he headed back to the door. “You know, that was kind of pointless since I’ll have to get back up to change.”

“Not to me,” Jongin said softly. Without waiting for a reply, he closed the door behind him.