Entitled | my.g

3

      "As soon as he gets home, I'm going to tell him what you tried to do." The woman hisses, nails painfully sharp against Hyora's scalp, "I'm gonna tell him what a desperate w***e you are, trying to break us apart. I'm gonna have you blacklisted from every club, bar, company-- everything. I'm gonna ruin you for trying to take him away from me!"

      "Hope-ah w-wouldn't do that to me." Hyora whispers, only half believing. As much as she trusts that Hoseok would never hurt her, she feels her confidence crumbling around her. The safe space that she and Yoongi have worked so hard to build goes up in flames in her mind, "They l-love me."

      The words earn her another sharp slap against the other side of her face, and she stumbles to the ground when the woman drops the tight grip in her hair.

      "Get out." The woman grinds out, eyes blazing, "Get out!"

      Hyora trips over her own feet as she scrambles through the doorway, the door slamming loudly shut behind her. Her face throbs as she numbly stumbles down the hall towards the room she shares with Yoongi, her mind slowly tumbling down into the dark. She struggles to grasp onto any rational thoughts as she feels herself slowly regress into the paranoia that ruled her childhood. She's pitiful. So pitiful. She can handle stressful situations, and yelling and fighting and swearing and even drunk members if she has to. But barely a hint of anything physical has Hyora's mind delving back to the days were her father backhanded her for anything he deemed unsatisfactory. Back to when she was really truly small and helpless, crying alone in her closet in hopes her father wouldn't find her.

      Seeking comfort in the only way she knows how, Hyora stumbles blindly back into her and Yoongi's room, and crawls into the dark space under Yoongi's winter coats in the very back of their walk-in closet. It smells like fabric and Yoongi and home, and the dark muffles some of the suffocating fear drowning Hyora's senses. The dim lighting feels like safety-- if no one can see her, then no one can hurt her. She swaddles herself in one of Yoongi's older jackets that fell off its hanger and onto the floor, and curls up pressed against the wall. Her mind settles into the warm space of nothingness as her lungs struggle to catch up, feeling tight and empty and full of toxicity that she can't expel no matter how much she gasps.

      Distantly, she thinks it would be a good idea to call Yoongi. He always knows just what to say to get her brain to calm down. But the idea of leaving the safety of darkness is so terrifying that Hyora can't bring herself to move. Logically, she knows the likelihood of the woman chasing her down is improbable, but Hyora didn't think to lock the door, and anywhere but in the closet leaves her open and vulnerable. The pain of her flaming skin keeps her rooted in place.

      It feels like years, engulfed in endless flashes of pain-filled memories and unhinged thoughts of Hoseok and the vicious woman barging into Hyora's room to shout and scream at her, before soft shuffling steps trudge though the bedroom door.

      "자기야, I'm home!" Yoongi's tired rumbly voice greets. Just the sound of his voice alone brings her a muted sense of relief-- her level of fear instantly lowering from ten to seven. She can hear him shuffling to ease his work satchel from off his stiff shoulder before he pauses. Hyora is always quick to greet him with a kiss when he gets home, and her sudden absence must be awfully confusing. But Hyora's too frightened to feel guilty. His hesitant steps shuffle closer to the bed, eyes no doubt searching the room for her little frame, "자기야?"

      Hyora wants to reply-- wants to ease his mind before he has the opportunity to panic-- but she feels too numb to move.

      "자기야? I got your text saying you're home..." Yoongi calls again, a note of worry coloring his tone. When his second call receives no response, Hyora hears his bag drop to the floor with a loud thump and heavy footsteps rushing to check the many places she could be.

      Hyora doesn't want him to panic. She hates it when he gets that heartbroken look in his eyes. She knows he'd do anything for her if he thought it necessary, no matter how ludicrous, and if he can't find her in the next ten minutes she wouldn't put it past him to contact security, police, the military-- so when he quickly peeks into the closet, eyes frantic, Hyora whimpers as loud as she can manage. Yoongi stiffens, eyes wide and anxious, and immediately pushes his way into the large closet.

      "Where are you, 자기?" He asks, voice so velvet soft as he pulls aside her long dresses in the opposite corner to check behind there. Another much softer whimper has Yoongi whipping around in record time, hair falling haphazardly in front of his eyes as he crouches to the floor before tugging part of the stack of heavy winter coats aside, "자기?"

      Hyora knows she's been spotted when the coats directly in front of her are pulled to the side. Yoongi freezes in place, as if scared of startling a little fawn. He makes a soft sound in the back of his throat at the sight of his beloved tucked tightly away in the darkness. Yoongi knows her better than he knows himself-- he knows she only hides in the dark corners of their closet when she's so scared she can hardly think straight. His expression is so soft, eyebrows pinched and dark eyes swimming with concern. His clothes rustle as he lowers himself to sit on the floor in front of her.

      "Oh, 자기." Yoongi's voice is soothing, a cool balm to Hyora's burning mind, "What's the matter?"

      Yoongi's warm presence is enough to chase away most of the ridiculous thoughts of Hoseok ever trying to hurt her, but Hyora's throat is still tight and her lungs still stuttering for purchase. She opens her mouth, but no words come out; only a soft whimper that has Yoongi's eyes flashing with heartbreak.

      "Bad day?" Yoongi whispers, eyes flickering along her blurry form in the dark, "Or-- too much?"

      Despite the vague way Yoongi words it, Hyora knows exactly what he's asking her. Once or twice a year she'll have a complete meltdown due to nothing but over-sensitivity and senseless fear. It takes days for her to recuperate from those-- startling at every noise and weeping helplessly into his chest every couple of hours-- and although her fear right now is overwhelmingly strong she makes a timid hum and shakes her head. She isn't just having a meltdown. She's isn't panicking because a sudden noise sent her into a flashback, or because stress is giving her nightmares. She feels helpless and small and so so scared, but all she wants is for that frightening woman to leave. Hyora wants to feel safe in her own home.

      "What's wrong then, 자기?" Yoongi asks, the note of distress in his gentle tone growing with his confusion. Hyora's never hidden in the closet for any other reason but trauma before, and the thought that something else is wrong tilts the corners of his mouth down in unease. A single pale hand reaches into the dark, grasping so carefully at Hyora's hunched shoulders, "Did somebody say something? Did- did somebody hurt you?"

      His voice tightens at the end of his sentence, as if he can't even stand the thought of it. But his guess hits the nail right on the head, and Hyora can't help the pitiful hiccup of a sob that tumbles from her lips. Her shaking fingers reach to wipe at her eyes, but she stops at the last second-- afraid of aggravating her throbbing skin.

      Hyora can feel her husband's posture immediately stiffening at her nonverbal assent. It's never taken much to rile him. He's as protective as a Rottweiler-- just the slightest hint of someone talking roughly to her has Yoongi chomping at the bit, raging and battle ready. He's been like this as long as she's known him; quickly incensed at the smallest offence. If Hyora wasn't so shaken she might even feel sorry-- knowing just how furious Yoongi is going to be, the woman will likely not receive a single shred of mercy.

      "What happened, 자기야?" Yoongi presses, anxious to soothe and fix whatever is causing Hyora such distress. Both his hands gently reach around her, coaxing her away from the cold wall and into his arms. Hyora whimpers and lets herself fall into his warmth, pressing her face against his neck as it rumbles with his words, "Please-- you know I'll do anything you ask to make it better."

      Hyora knows he will. He vowed to protect and serve her with his life, and he has made good on his promise at every given opportunity. He's made it blatantly clear that she is his number one priority, and if anything gets in the way of that, he's quick to toss it aside or burn it. As soon as Yoongi knows what happened he's going to throw that woman out of the dorm, and probably sue her until she has nothing left, but-- isn't that woman Hope-ah's girlfriend? As much as Hyora wants her out of the house, she doesn't want to make Hoseok angry and cause a feud. Is that worth Hyora feeling at peace?