Entitled | my.g

4

       "Talk to me, Hyora," Yoongi begs, so so sweetly-- handsome face pinched in sadness as his hands smooth up and down her spine. Hyora feels her panic slowly dissipating with every second of his touch, the painful knot in her chest melting with Yoongi's gentle pleads, "Tell me what happened. I'm here. I'm here for you."

      He holds her so attentively, pulling away only a little to try and see her face. Hyora tries to resist his touch. She weakly tries to keep her face out of sight and pressed tightly against his skin, trying so hard to delay the inevitable storm. But it's impossible to withstand the warmth of his hand against her chin, and the alluring lull of his voice eases her away. His fingers gently tilt her face towards his and into the light. But then-- every muscle in his body tenses in shock-- eyes boiling with fury.

      "What the h**l?!" Yoongi growls through clenched teeth. His hands are still terribly gentle even when his eyes blaze, taking in Hyora's swelling red cheeks and the small cut under her eyes that stopped bleeding a while ago. The red skin is in the vague shape of hands, and Yoongi shudders with barely contained wrath at the image of someone laying their hands on his wife's little face, "자기-- what--- who--?!"

      Hyora wishes she has a better story than the one she does, but she can't help but crumble into pieces under Yoongi's protective gaze. She craves safety and comfort, and she knows he can provide if she only asks.

      "I- I was so scared." Hyora hiccups, fresh tears spilling from her eyes. Her arms curl around his strong shoulders, and Yoongi's own gentle hands cradle her face-- eyes lingering heavily on her marked skin, "I didn't mean to make h-her angry."

      "Even if you did, it doesn't give her the right to lay a single finger on you!" Yoongi states with an animosity Hyora hasn't heard since the last time he spoke to her father, his lips drawn in a scowl, "I don't care if you called her a b**** and insulted her mother's cooking! I don't care what you do-- nobody hurts you. Ever."

      "I really didn't mean to." Hyora whispers, voice strained and broken as her breath gets trapped in her throat. She chokes out another weak sob, her chest aching with leftover terror, "She didn't let me e-explain! I was just-- I was just trying to do the laundry."

      "She's-" Yoongi pauses, eyes darkening as a hand curls protectively around the back of Hyora's head, "She's in our home?!"

      "I d-didn't know she was there." Hyora sniffles, closing her eyes as she fruitlessly tries to forget the aggressive way the woman stood, and the flaring pain when her hand connected with Hyora's face, "She didn't like my pajamas."

      "Your pajamas?" Yoongi questions, disgruntled, as his eyes dip down to examine Hyora's attire. His frown deepens in his bewilderment, "What's wrong with you pajamas?"

      "She said I should- I should be ashamed for trying to-" Hyora swallows thickly, the words heavy and bitter in her mouth. Yoongi's steady gaze and soft sound of encouragement are the only things that keep her from turning away in shame, "Trying to lure Hoseok-ah into b-bed."

      Yoongi tenses even more, shoulders tight with anger. Hyora trembling in his hold, choking out words that tear both of their hearts in pieces.

      "And that I- I'm u-ugly and weak and p-pathetic and sl***y and-" Hyora sobs, breath stuttering, "She said I'm a-- I'm a desperate home-wrecking sl**."

      Yoongi hushes her, hands pulling her back against his chest as he rocks them back and forth. Hyora willingly presses as close to him as possible, his arms the safest place in the whole world. Hyora feels so protected like this-- cradled so gently. Like she's his most precious treasure. He presses kisses into her hair as she struggles to gain some sense of compose, her tears surely leaving a mess on Yoongi's red and white sweatshirt.