Madhouse || Park Jimin

20

I've lost count of how many times I've questioned the security here, because sneaking into the second floor to see Yoongi wasn't hard. I just had to wait for the guard to go to the toilet.

While walking through the corridor, I regret coming here. It's so lonely and the silence is disturbing. The lights are off really early too.

My eyes search for the number Yoongi told me: twenty-eight.

I swallow hard.

Twenty-five, twenty-six, twenty-seven...

Twenty-eight.

Min Yoongi.

And there it is, that red circle under his name. What does it mean?

I look through the small window on his door and I see him.

He's sitting on a mattress in the corner of the room with a book in his hands, looking completely immersed in it.

With indecisive hands I turn the door knob and open the door.

I take a step inside and Yoongi's peculiar eyes look up from the book, noticing my presence.

"Welcome," he says and my heart starts racing as he closes the book and places it on his lap with a smile. "Close the door."

"I don't think so." I shake my head.

"You're so distrustful." He clicks his tongue and lifts his hand, showing a chain connected to the wall. "I can't reach you, so relax a little."

"Why do they have you so restricted again?" I ask.

His eyes shine in amusement. "Because I'm dangerous."

"Is that why there's a red circle under your name?"

"Well, well..." His smile grows bigger. "Why are you so curious about me, ___?"

"I just wanna know if I shouldn't come to see you again," I say.

"Hmm. That means you were already thinking about coming to see me again." I open my mouth but he continues. "For now, let's focus on the fact that you're already here. We'll worry about our next encounter later on."

"Why do you always evade my questions? You always find a way to not give me answers." I frown at him, frustrated.

"I don't owe you answers," he answers coldly. "Let's make one thing clear, sweetheart. I don't owe you anything, it just amuses me giving you bits of valuable information about you and your pathetic life."

That hurts me.

"If my life seems so pathetic to you, why don't you leave me alone?" I say.

(a/n: she's so embarrassing :'))

"Why do you keep coming to me?"

"Because you're not telling me everything you know!"

"I'll tell you at the pace I want, however I want," he deadpans.

"Is this a game for you?" I ask.

"Everything's a game for me."

"Then I won't see you again, I'm leaving." I turn around and take the door knob.

"We both know you won't be able to leave through that door. And even if you do gather the courage to do it, the doubt of knowing whether the killer hit me or not will haunt you until you come back to me," he says and I clench my hand on the door knob because he's right.

"He came to you?" I ask.

He tilts his head.

"Why don't you sit down?" He points somewhere in front of him. "Don't worry, I'm not going to kiss you."