SEVEN

"So— we're assassins."

"Oh, I know." I reply lightly, and Namjoon's mouth drops open. He starts stuttering, which makes me burst into laughter. "You guys aren't that discreet in hiding your Marks."

"How do you know about Marks?"

"I suspected." I laugh, pointing at Taehyung's wrist and then Yoongi's neck for good measure. "It's not that hard when I hear rendezvous and then see a mark that looks like a knife dipped in blood."

"Yeah, hear that?" Jin yells across the room towards Taehyung and Yoongi. "We're going to get our covers blown because of your Marks that you're showing all over the place!"

After that stunt I'd pulled on Jimin, I'd quickly lied that it was a self-defense trick I'd learned from my mother.

And thankfully, most of them seemed to believe that.

"Alright, I'm going to go sleep." Yoongi yawns, tottering towards the stairs. When he disappears, Jin claps his hands together, announcing that it was officially time for bed.

And I struggle to stifle a giggle. Was this a house of assassins or a house of kindergarteners?

"Wait, what about Seven?" Jungkook pipes up, tilting his head innocently. "She can't just sleep in the couch. It gets cold downstairs at night. Besides, that couch is uncomfortable."

"Good question." Jin says, and I shrug.

"I can handle a bit cold. I was a slave, remember?" I'd used to have slept on dirt grounds outside before, when my Master was displeased with me. And then he beat me, but I didn't want to think of that.

"Exactly. Which is why you are going to be sleeping on a bed." Jin says, giving me a serious look. Then he turns to Jimin, who's back to reading that book.

"Hey, Chim. Seven's sleeping with you tonight."

I look up in shock, the same moment he does. His expression twists in disgust, and he slams the book down on the stand next to him.

"No."

"You have the biggest bed." He shrugs, his tone decisive. "Two people could easily sleep on there without even touching each other. The rest of us are a different story, because we don't move around like you do. So okay? Done deal."

I'm starting to panic. Sleeping on the same bed? With the person I'd almost strangled this evening? I literally might lose my marbles and attack him again.

"Hyung. You can't—"

"If you're going to disagree with me, then you are perfectly welcome to sleep on the couch." Jin sasses back, and Jimin explodes.

"You can't. It's my bed!"

"And I'm also your hyung. So what I say goes in this household." Jin crosses his arms, but then a deep voice rings out from the side.

"She can stay with me."

"You know what? Figure it out yourselves." Jin sighs, throwing up his hands and yawning widely. Then he goes upstairs, grumbling something about kids and their idiocy.

"If you want to, you can." Taehyung offers, holding out a hand with a soft smile. Who could literally resist that smile?

I'm about to nod when Jimin slaps Taehyung's hand away and wraps his fingers around my wrist, pulling me up the stairs.

"What the heck? Let me go!"

"So you can mess with Taehyung? No." He growls, pulling me up more roughly. "I hate you so much, slave."

"Well, I hate you too!"

He slams open a door, and I stumble inside of the room. The first thing I notice is just how dull everything seems to be. White walls, desk, and a bed.

Jin wasn't kidding when he was saying that the bed was big.

"I move around a lot in my sleep." He snarls behind me, running his fingers frustratingly through his hair. "Get over it."

"Stay away from Taehyung." He says, and I throw up my hands in anger.

"For your damn information, he came to me first! And are you his lover or something? Because you're hella protective over—"

And then my eyes catch on his wrists.

"What's that?"

"What's what?" He sighs, but then his face turns to stone the moment I point. There were scars there— round ones, like a circle around both wrists. Branded so deep that they weren't going to heal ever again.

"That."

"So damn curious." He pulls his sleeves down, cursing softly under his breath. I purse my lips and give up, knowing that he'd probably die first before he was going to tell me a single word.

"I'm going to shower."

He looks at me, silver eyes almost white as it burns in annoyance. "A shower? Can't you just shut the hell up and go to sleep?"

"Nope."

And then I slam the bathroom door shut before he can give me another retort.

Why couldn't he just be nice like everyone else? I'd be a perfectly sweet lamb if he didn't piss me off every single time I met eyes with him.

Grumbling, I strip down from the shirt and the shorts and turn the water all the way up to hot. I was going to try this when I had the chance— I'd only showered in freezing water back at that cursed house.

"I'm using your shampoo!" I call, and chew on my lips in hesitation when I don't hear a response. But then I reach for it anyways— it was the only one.

When I'm done, I smell like Jimin and I'm not happy about it at all.

Putting Taehyung's clothes back on, I bounce out of the bathroom with my hair still dripping water a bit. I'm kind of surprised when I find him already asleep, his face turned towards the wall and breathing evenly.

I like sleeping Jimin, because he's finally quiet.

It's slightly hot in the room, so I open the window halfway and close my eyes against the soft breeze. Just twenty four hours ago I'd been lying awake, my heart beating erratically with the escape I was about to make.

And now I was in this situation.

Shuffling back to the bed, I slip under the covers and stare into the ceiling. I can hear Jimin breathing to my left, and the quiet winds blowing into the room.

Then something dark with giant legs flickers in my vision, and I can't believe my eyes.

"Holy crap! Jimin—"

Then it takes off from the ceiling, and starts flying towards the bed. The right part of the bed, which I'm lying in right now.

Instinctively, I burrow under the covers and somehow get over Jimin, and safely squeeze myself between him and the wall. And my entire body's protected from the blanket.

"What the hell?!"

Then the covers are pulled off, and I look up with wide eyes as Jimin stares down at me with shocked disgust. But right now I'm not worried about that— I'm more worried about covering myself from head to toe.

I reach for the covers he has in one hand.

"Give that back to me!" I yelp, grabbing his pillow instead and curling into the corner of the bed. My eyes flicker furiously from side to side of the room, but it's gone. "Holy crap, where is it? Where is it?"

"Where is what?"

I must look genuinely terrified, because he grows more serious. He grips my shoulder, eyes narrowed as it fixes on mine, which is scanning the room in pure panic.

"Seven, relax. There's nothing."

"Yes there is—"

Then it literally appears out of nowhere, and I do the first thing my mind just tells me to do.

I grab the front of Jimin's shirt in both hands, and then pull. He lets out a stunned sound, and I hear his palm slamming against the wall to keep himself from falling into me.

"Seven—"

"I don't know where it is!"

And then I almost scream when I feel something move against my waist. But then I realize it's just Jimin's hand, trying to get me to calm down.

And then in the corner of my eye, I see it casually fly back out of the open window.

I suck in a harsh breath.

"Close the window." I whisper, and he just stares at me. My hands are still gripping his shirt, and I shake him anxiously when he doesn't listen to me the first time. "I said close the window, Jimin!"

Only when he reaches over and slams the window shut, do I melt into a big puddle of relief.

And then I realize just how am I going to explain my freaking bug trauma to this man inches in front of me, staring silver fire into my eyes.