"What does M stand for?"
"Sh! What are you asking?! That's a forbidden question!"
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Her fashion sense wasn't anything close to elegant, natty, draped, or classy at all. She loved her appearance, though it wasn't anything close to pleasant to the others' eyes.
Her so-called subjects never minded her frequently unpolished shoes, her slightly nubby socks, her slovenly pleated skirt.
She would walk through the halls in whatever appearance she pleased, even with her bleached hair completely disheveled, her eyes sore from staying up all night, and with her bare-face standing out in the crowd full of try-hard ladies trying to look more beautiful than she was.
The clicking sounds coming from her slightly elevated shoes weren't that loud, but her name screamed in everyone's ears. Without turning around, everyone always recognized her presence even before the terrible smell of smokes filled the whole hallway.
They always knew who shamelessly loved to light a cigarette in public, it was M, always M. But how is she the similar to the seven boys who always did what they were taught?
They all lived in fear of the brightness, not the dark.
A/N: i'm scared holy crap
dedicated to: T, J, and M ✨
note: mature and triggering content. don't say i didn't warn you.
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(DISCONTINUED) M | Bangtan
FanfictionThe smooth, intricate lines engraved on her pale skin was her pricetag. The alphabet letter and the tough facade she identified with might be her end's begin. Yet she still risks it all. Highest Ranking: #116 in Mystery/Thriller on 08/07/16 ongoing.
