Hacker | Gang!BTSxHacker!reader

1

To bloom, a flower more often than not needs to be fed. Sunlight, water, care. Basic things, things you probably learn in biology lessons only to forget years later. These are simple undeniable truths. Water is needed, love is helpful. 

But, what happens if somebody knows no water, what if they replaced the liquid with poison made of misery? And what if they grow, unknowing of the difference between the two because it is all that has ever been known?

Theorise that it is a cruel life, that it would be like a person who see's only the dark side of the moon, unknowing of its real beauty. Know what the dark side of the moon looks like while others don't. Know what it is like to live so poorly that 'better' isn't a word in your vocabulary.

You, as a girl raised in misery, will surely bloom. One way or another.

You lived a lonely life, you always had. So, sitting in a darkened room, shrouded in mystery was nothing new.

Your eyes were glued, almost attached permanently to the vivid screen of the old and aged laptop resting against your legs. Your back leaned onto the rusting radiator behind you, sticking where your skin was bare, collecting the warmth which had grown from your skin touching the metal. Beneath you was nothing but hardwood, decaying and fragile, it creaked with every movement you made. 

It was a common place to find you. In fact, it was rare to find you any other way. Your fingers moved swiftly across the keys, the clicks loud in your ears. All around you, the sickening stench of energy drinks and dust gathered, it clogged your nose, forcing you to breathe through your parted lips as you lost all sense of time. The aged building you sat within was nothing more than a temporary base, somewhere for you to go while you worked your difficult job. It was a place where time may as well have been nothing but a myth because you so rarely checked it.

As you worked, the silent tapping and creaking of the decaying house shifting in the changing temperature brought you from your trance, along with the sound of the buzzing phone inside your old, over-worn, black hoodie pocket. 

It was difficult work; the type that took no distractions. But there were only two numbers that ever called you, one related to work, the other far more important than it. And this time, it was the latter.

Sighing and cracking your knuckles, you moved the scratched, aged laptop off of your lap, wary of any wires, and pulled your legs towards your body as you fumbled around in your pocket in search of an outdated phone.

"Lee," you greeted, your voice as soft as the pillows you slept on at night, the lazy smile evident in your chirping voice, "what's up?"

"Oh (Y/n)," the voice of a man on the other end breathed out restlessly almost as if he hadn't expected an answer at all. His voice was low as he paced around, his steps echoing and bouncing from wall to wall in an empty office. "What are you up to?"

Your eyes shifted towards the laptop screen which continued to download a file slowly. The screen was almost blinding, it was a strain on your tired eyes as it glowed harshly against the darkness of the house.

"The usual. My contacts had a job for me so I'm getting on with that."

"Is it a dangerous one?" He was always quick to concern. He was the type of guy who wouldn't even sneeze if he was told to be quiet.

"Nope, just sending some ass a bit of malware. Y'know, as you do." You joked, well, sort of. You were sending some malware. But, it wasn't really a typical thing that people often do.

Your eyes fell to your lap as you took note of Lee's own quieter laugh. It wasn't a laugh, not really. It was forced, it was broken. You knew your friend well enough to know that it wasn't his. He was always kind, he was always there for you and supporting you, no matter what. He didn't care about your job, so long as you were safe.