SCENT OF RUIN
Eight: Guard Duty
The third floor felt different now.
Not because it was quieter.
Not because it was cleaner.
But because it was sealed.
Two armed guards stood at the staircase entrance. Another pair stood halfway down the hallway. The windows were reinforced, the curtains drawn, and the air smelled faintly of metal—like guns had become part of the furniture.
You were led down the corridor like a prisoner being escorted to her cell.
Except your cell was beautiful.
That was the cruel part.
Namjoon walked ahead. Calm. Controlled. Like this was nothing more than another security protocol.
Jimin stayed close to your left, his hand lightly touching your elbow as if you might fall.
Jungkook stayed to your right, close enough that your sleeve brushed his. He didn’t touch you now, but his presence felt like a hand around your throat anyway.
Behind you, Jin and Taehyung followed, talking softly like this was an evening stroll.
Yoongi and Hoseok were somewhere behind, quieter.
You stopped when Namjoon opened a door at the end of the hall.
“This is it,” Namjoon said.
You stared inside.
A bedroom. Spacious. Clean. Warm lighting. A king-sized bed. A small sitting area. A desk. A balcony.
A luxury prison.
You stepped inside slowly.
Jimin’s hand fell away from your arm.
Jungkook stayed at the doorway.
Namjoon walked in after you, then turned and looked at everyone.
“This room is now restricted,” Namjoon said. “Only us. No staff.”
Jin whistled. “Wow. She’s officially a treasure.”
Taehyung smiled. “Or a hostage.”
You snapped your gaze at him.
“Is that supposed to be funny?”
Taehyung blinked innocently. “No.”
Then he tilted his head.
“It’s supposed to be true.”
Your stomach turned.
Namjoon ignored him and looked at you.
“You’ll stay here until we decide it’s safe.”
You stared at him.
“Until you decide,” you repeated.
Namjoon nodded once.
“Yes.”
Your hands curled into fists.
“So I’m not allowed to leave?”
Namjoon answered simply, “No.”
Jungkook finally spoke, voice low.
“You’re safer this way.”
You whipped your head toward him.
“Safer for who?” you asked. “Me… or you?”
Jungkook’s jaw tightened.
“For you.”
Jin laughed quietly.
“She’s bold.”
Hoseok sighed. “Jin, stop encouraging her.”
Jin smiled at Hoseok.
“I’m not encouraging. I’m enjoying.”
You turned back to Namjoon.
“I want to see my mom.”
Namjoon’s expression didn’t change.
“You’ll see her later today.”
“Why not now?”
Namjoon’s gaze hardened slightly.
“Because right now we’re deciding what to do with our father.”
That sentence made your blood go cold.
You swallowed.
“What are you going to do?”
Taehyung answered casually.
“Something permanent.”
Hoseok snapped, “Taehyung.”
Taehyung smiled. “What? She asked.”
You looked at them, horrified.
Jimin spoke softly.
“Don’t listen to him.”
Taehyung tilted his head.
“Why not? I’m being honest.”
Namjoon raised his hand slightly.
“Enough,” he said.
Then he looked at you.
“Rest. Eat. Don’t open the balcony doors. Don’t open the hallway door.”
You frowned. “What if I need something?”
Jin pointed at Jungkook.
“You call him.”
Your eyes widened. “Why him?”
Jin’s smile widened.
“Because he’s already obsessed.”
Jungkook’s head snapped toward Jin.
“Hyung.”
Jin lifted both hands. “What? Am I wrong?”
Jungkook’s eyes darkened.
Taehyung chuckled.
Yoongi muttered, “He’s not wrong.”
Your stomach twisted at the casual way they said it.
Obsessed.
Like it was a fact.
Like it was expected.
Namjoon looked at Jungkook.
“You’re on first watch,” Namjoon said.
Jungkook’s eyes narrowed.
“Why me?”
Namjoon replied, “Because you won’t leave her alone anyway.”
Silence.
Jungkook didn’t argue.
Jimin’s expression shifted.
A flicker of irritation crossed his face.
“Hyung,” Jimin said quietly, “I can—”
Namjoon cut him off.
“You’ll take second watch.”
Jimin’s jaw clenched slightly.
“…Fine.”
Namjoon looked at Jin.
“You’re third.”
Jin smiled. “With pleasure.”
Hoseok frowned. “What about me?”
Namjoon’s gaze softened a fraction.
“Hoseok, you’re injured. Rest.”
Hoseok’s lips pressed together.
“I’m fine.”
Yoongi spoke without looking up from his phone.
“You’re bleeding through your shirt.”
Hoseok glanced down and cursed under his breath.
Taehyung raised his hand lazily.
“I want a watch.”
Namjoon sighed. “You’ll get one.”
Taehyung smiled. “Good.”
Namjoon looked back at you.
“You will not leave this room without one of us.”
Your throat tightened.
“That’s insane.”
Namjoon’s voice stayed calm.
“It’s necessary.”
You whispered, “You’re treating me like property.”
Jungkook’s voice came from the doorway.
“Because you are.”
Your breath hitched.
You turned sharply toward him.
“What did you say?”
Jungkook’s eyes locked on yours.
He didn’t smile.
He didn’t tease.
He simply repeated, calm and terrifying—
“You’re property.”
The room went quiet.
Even Jin stopped smirking.
Even Taehyung stopped looking amused.
Jimin’s eyes narrowed.
Yoongi’s jaw tightened.
Hoseok looked uncomfortable.
Namjoon’s gaze sharpened.
“Jungkook,” Namjoon warned.
But Jungkook didn’t look away from you.
Your chest rose and fell rapidly.
“Say that again,” you whispered, voice trembling with anger.
Jungkook stepped inside the room.
The door shut behind him with a soft click.
He walked toward you slowly.
“I said,” Jungkook repeated, “you’re property.”
Your hands trembled.
You wanted to slap him.
You wanted to scream.
Instead you forced the words out.
“I’m not yours.”
Jungkook stopped in front of you.
His gaze dropped to your lips for half a second.
Then back to your eyes.
“I didn’t say you were mine,” he murmured.
You blinked.
“What?”
Jungkook leaned slightly closer.
“I said you’re property,” he repeated. “Not mine.”
Your stomach sank.
The implication hit you like a knife.
Not his.
Theirs.
All of them.
Jin chuckled softly.
“Smart girl,” Jin murmured. “She understood.”
You looked around at them.
Seven men.
Seven faces.
Seven different kinds of danger.
And suddenly you felt small.
Not because you were weak.
But because you were outnumbered in every possible way.
Namjoon stepped forward.
“Enough,” he said sharply. “Everyone out.”
Jin pouted. “Aww.”
Taehyung sighed dramatically.
“Party’s over.”
Yoongi walked toward the door without a word.
Hoseok followed, glancing at you with something like sympathy.
Jimin hesitated.
He looked at you.
His voice was quiet.
“If you need anything…”
He didn’t finish the sentence.
He just looked at Jungkook.
Like he didn’t trust him.
Then he left.
Jin and Taehyung lingered at the doorway.
Jin leaned against the frame and smiled at you.
“Try not to fall in love,” Jin said sweetly.
Your blood boiled.
“I won’t.”
Jin’s smile widened.
“You will.”
Taehyung waved lazily.
“Good luck, Y/N.”
Then they left too.
Namjoon was last.
Before leaving, he looked at Jungkook.
His voice dropped low.
“Don’t push her too hard.”
Jungkook smirked faintly.
Namjoon’s eyes narrowed.
“That wasn’t a suggestion.”
Jungkook didn’t answer.
Namjoon looked at you.
“Rest,” he said again.
Then he left.
The door shut.
The lock clicked.
And you were alone.
With Jungkook.
Your throat tightened instantly.
You turned toward the window, needing distance.
Needing air.
But Jungkook spoke behind you.
“You’re angry.”
You didn’t answer.
Jungkook moved closer.
You heard his footsteps.
Slow.
Unhurried.
You refused to turn.
“What do you want?” you asked, voice flat.
Jungkook’s voice came closer.
“I want you to stop looking at me like I’m the villain.”
You let out a bitter laugh.
“You are the villain.”
Jungkook was silent for a moment.
Then he said quietly.
“No.”
You finally turned.
He was standing only a few feet away.
His eyes were tired.
Dark.
There was dried blood on his collar from last night. His knuckles were bruised. His hair was still slightly damp like he’d washed quickly but couldn’t scrub the night away.
You swallowed.
“If you’re not the villain,” you whispered, “then what are you?”
Jungkook stepped closer.
He stopped in front of you.
Close enough that your breath hitched.
“I’m the one who will keep you alive,” he said.
Your chest tightened.
“I didn’t ask you to.”
Jungkook tilted his head.
“I know.”
His gaze dropped to your neck.
Your pulse jumped.
Then he lifted his eyes again.
“But you smell like you need someone to.”
Your stomach twisted.
“Stop talking about my scent,” you snapped.
Jungkook’s lips curved faintly.
“I can’t.”
You clenched your jaw.
“Why?”
Jungkook leaned closer, his voice lowering.
“Because you smell different when you’re lying,” he murmured.
Your breath caught.
“What?”
Jungkook’s eyes narrowed slightly.
“You smell different when you’re scared,” he continued.
You tried to step back.
He followed.
“You smell different when you’re angry,” he said.
Your back hit the edge of the desk.
You glared up at him.
“And what do I smell like now?” you challenged.
Jungkook stared at you.
For a long moment.
Then he answered quietly.
“Confused.”
Your throat tightened.
He was right.
And you hated him for it.
You swallowed hard.
“Move.”
Jungkook didn’t.
Instead he placed his hands on the desk on either side of you, caging you in again.
You stiffened.
“Jungkook,” you warned.
His eyes flicked to your lips.
Then back to your eyes.
“I’m not going to touch you,” he said.
You laughed coldly.
“Wow. How generous.”
Jungkook’s jaw flexed.
“I want to,” he admitted.
The honesty made your breath catch.
“But I won’t,” he continued. “Not unless you stop fighting me.”
Your chest tightened.
“I’m not fighting you. I’m fighting being trapped.”
Jungkook leaned closer.
“And who trapped you?”
You stared at him.
“…Your father.”
Jungkook nodded slowly.
“Exactly.”
His voice softened slightly.
“So stop acting like I’m the one who did this to you.”
You whispered, “You didn’t stop it either.”
Jungkook’s eyes darkened.
“I tried.”
You blinked.
“You tried?”
Jungkook’s lips pressed into a thin line.
“My mother died,” he said suddenly.
Your breath caught.
The topic shifted so fast it threw you off balance.
You stared at him.
He continued quietly.
“She died and my father didn’t even cry.”
Your throat tightened.
“He brought your mom into the house a month later,” Jungkook said. “And you want to know what I thought?”
You didn’t speak.
You couldn’t.
Jungkook’s voice dropped.
“I thought he replaced her.”
His jaw clenched.
“Like she was nothing.”
Your stomach sank.
“And then he brought you,” Jungkook continued.
His eyes locked onto yours.
“And you looked at us like you weren’t scared.”
You swallowed.
Jungkook’s voice turned rough.
“And it pissed me off.”
You whispered, “So you decided to hurt me.”
Jungkook’s gaze didn’t move.
“Yes.”
The bluntness hit you like a slap.
You stared at him, shocked.
“You’re admitting it?”
Jungkook nodded.
“I wanted you to cry,” he said quietly. “I wanted you to beg.”
Your blood ran cold.
He leaned closer.
“And now that you’re here,” he whispered, “I can’t stop thinking about you.”
Your breath hitched.
“You hate me,” you whispered.
Jungkook’s eyes softened for half a second.
Then he said something that made your heart pound painfully.
“I hate that I want you.”
Silence filled the room.
You didn’t know what to say.
Because you didn’t want to hear it.
But you couldn’t stop listening.
Jungkook’s gaze drifted over your face again, slow and deliberate.
“Do you know what’s worse?” he asked.
You swallowed.
“What?”
Jungkook’s voice lowered.
“I don’t even want to hurt you anymore.”
Your heart stuttered.
You whispered, “Then stop.”
Jungkook’s jaw clenched.
“I can’t stop,” he admitted.
You frowned. “Why?”
Jungkook leaned in until his forehead nearly touched yours.
“Because if I stop,” he whispered, “then I have to admit I’m obsessed.”
Your breath caught.
He inhaled slowly, eyes fluttering for a second.
Then he whispered against your lips, barely a breath away.
“And I don’t want my brothers to know how badly I need you.”
Your pulse slammed.
You stared at him.
“Need me?” you whispered.
Jungkook’s eyes darkened.
“Yes,” he said simply.
Then he stepped back suddenly, like he hated himself for saying it.
He turned away and walked to the chair by the door.
He sat down, leaning back with his arms crossed.
Like he was trying to regain control.
He didn’t look at you.
But his voice was still quiet.
“You can hate me,” he said.
You didn’t answer.
He continued.
“You can scream at me.”
Still silence.
“But don’t try to run,” Jungkook said.
Your throat tightened.
“Or what?”
Jungkook finally looked at you again.
His gaze was steady.
“I’ll bring you back,” he said.
You whispered, “And then what?”
Jungkook’s lips curved faintly.
“Then you’ll finally understand,” he murmured.
You frowned.
“Understand what?”
Jungkook’s voice dropped, calm and possessive.
“That this room isn’t your prison.”
He paused.
Then added—
“It’s your cage.”
Your blood turned cold.
You stared at him.
And he stared back.
Like he was waiting for you to break.
Like he was waiting for you to accept it.
Minutes passed.
Then you whispered, voice shaking.
“You’re sick.”
Jungkook nodded once.
“I know.”
You swallowed hard.
“And you’re proud of it.”
Jungkook’s gaze darkened.
“No,” he said.
Then his voice lowered.
“I’m terrified of it.”
That answer made your chest ache in a way you didn’t understand.
Because for the first time…
He didn’t sound like a monster.
He sounded like a man who knew he was becoming one.
And you were the reason.
The silence returned.
Then, suddenly, there was a knock at the door.
Jungkook didn’t move.
A voice came through.
“Jungkook. Switch.”
Jimin.
Jungkook’s eyes narrowed.
He stood up slowly, unlocking the door.
Jimin stepped inside.
Fresh clothes. Clean hands. Calm expression.
But his eyes went straight to you.
Not Jungkook.
You.
“You okay?” Jimin asked softly.
You hesitated.
Then nodded.
Jungkook’s voice was cold.
“She’s fine.”
Jimin glanced at Jungkook.
“She looks pale.”
Jungkook’s jaw tightened.
“Don’t.”
Jimin’s smile was faint.
“Don’t what?”
Jungkook stepped closer.
“Don’t pretend you care,” he said.
Jimin’s expression didn’t change.
“I do care.”
Jungkook scoffed.
“You care because she’s new.”
Jimin’s gaze flickered.
“No,” he said. “I care because she’s human.”
Your throat tightened.
Jungkook laughed once.
Low.
Bitter.
“And we’re not?”
Jimin’s voice was quiet.
“We stopped being human a long time ago.”
Silence.
That line settled in the room like smoke.
Jungkook’s jaw clenched.
Jimin stepped closer to you.
Not touching.
Just close enough to make Jungkook tense.
“If you need anything,” Jimin said gently, “tell me.”
Jungkook’s voice snapped.
“She doesn’t need you.”
Jimin looked at him.
“Yes,” Jimin said calmly. “She does.”
Jungkook stepped forward.
“You want her?” Jungkook asked quietly.
Jimin didn’t blink.
“Yes.”
Your heart stopped.
Jungkook’s eyes widened slightly.
“You’re saying it like that?” Jungkook whispered.
Jimin’s lips curved.
“I’m not ashamed,” Jimin said. “Are you?”
Jungkook’s hands clenched.
Jimin turned his attention back to you.
His voice softened.
“You’re safe with me,” he said.
You swallowed.
“I don’t feel safe with any of you.”
Jimin nodded slowly.
“That’s fair.”
Jungkook’s voice was low.
“She’s not going to choose you.”
Jimin smiled faintly.
“She doesn’t have to choose.”
Then he looked at Jungkook.
“We’re not fighting over her.”
Jungkook’s gaze sharpened.
“What are we doing then?”
Jimin’s voice dropped.
“We’re waiting,” he said.
Your throat tightened.
Waiting for what?
Jimin’s eyes flicked to you.
Then he answered softly.
“For her to stop pretending she doesn’t feel it too.”
Your breath caught.
You stared at him.
Jungkook’s jaw clenched.
“You’re disgusting,” you whispered.
Jimin smiled faintly.
“Yes,” he said. “But I’m patient.”
Jungkook stepped back, his expression dark.
“Fine,” he muttered. “Take your watch.”
He walked toward the door, but before leaving, he looked at you one last time.
His eyes were unreadable.
Then he said quietly—
“Don’t trust him.”
Jimin smiled as Jungkook passed him.
“And you shouldn’t trust you.”
Jungkook paused.
Then leaned slightly closer to Jimin’s ear.
“Touch her,” Jungkook whispered, “and I’ll kill you.”
Jimin’s smile didn’t fade.
“Try,” he whispered back.
Jungkook left.
The door shut.
And the lock clicked again.
You were alone again.
This time with Jimin.
Jimin turned toward you slowly.
His expression was softer than Jungkook’s.
But that didn’t make him safer.
Sometimes softness was the most dangerous kind of trap.
He walked toward you.
Stopped a few feet away.
Then he sat down on the chair Jungkook had just left.
Like he didn’t want to scare you.
Like he was giving you space.
“You’re shaking,” Jimin said quietly.
You hugged yourself.
“I’m fine.”
Jimin nodded.
“Okay,” he said. “Then I’ll talk.”
You blinked.
“What?”
Jimin leaned back slightly.
“If I sit here in silence,” he said, “you’ll think I’m waiting for you to break.”
Your throat tightened.
“Aren’t you?”
Jimin smiled.
“No,” he said softly. “I’m waiting for you to breathe.”
You swallowed.
Jimin’s voice stayed gentle.
“Tell me something,” he said. “Do you miss your old life?”
You stared at him.
“Yes.”
Jimin nodded slowly.
“What do you miss most?” he asked.
You hesitated.
Then answered quietly.
“Being invisible.”
Jimin’s eyes softened.
“That makes sense,” he murmured.
Then he tilted his head.
“But you’re not invisible here.”
You whispered, “I know.”
Jimin’s gaze lingered on your face.
“You’re not invisible because you’re beautiful,” he said.
You scoffed.
“That’s not why.”
Jimin smiled faintly.
“No,” he admitted. “It’s not.”
His voice lowered.
“You’re not invisible because you walked into a house full of men who hate their father.”
Your breath caught.
“And you reminded us of her,” Jimin continued.
You frowned.
“Her?”
Jimin’s gaze dropped.
“Our mother,” he said quietly.
Your throat tightened.
“You loved her,” you whispered.
Jimin’s smile was sad.
“We worshipped her,” he corrected.
Silence.
Then he looked at you again.
“And then she died,” he said. “And father replaced her.”
You swallowed hard.
“With my mom.”
Jimin nodded.
“And you,” he added softly, “became the proof.”
Your stomach twisted.
“You blame me for that?”
Jimin shook his head.
“No,” he said. “Not anymore.”
You stared.
“Not anymore?”
Jimin’s voice was calm.
“At first, I wanted to break you,” he admitted.
Your breath caught.
“Like Jungkook?”
Jimin smiled faintly.
“Like all of us.”
You felt sick.
Then Jimin leaned forward slightly.
“But now,” he said softly, “I want you to survive.”
You swallowed.
“Why?”
Jimin’s eyes darkened.
“Because I don’t want Rossi to touch what we’ve already touched,” he said.
Your breath hitched.
You stared at him.
He said it so casually.
So calmly.
Like it was normal.
Like you were already stained by them.
You whispered, “You haven’t touched me.”
Jimin smiled.
“No,” he said.
Then he looked at you like he could see under your skin.
“But we’ve already been inside your head.”
Your throat tightened.
He wasn’t wrong.
Jimin stood up slowly.
He didn’t rush.
He didn’t corner you.
He just walked to the table near the couch and poured you a glass of water.
He held it out.
“Drink,” he said.
You hesitated.
Then took it.
Your fingers brushed his.
Warm.
Soft.
You pulled away quickly.
Jimin didn’t react.
He simply sat back down.
“Do you hate Jungkook?” Jimin asked.
You froze.
Then whispered, “Yes.”
Jimin nodded.
“That’s good,” he murmured.
You frowned.
“How is that good?”
Jimin smiled faintly.
“Because if you hated him less,” he said, “you might start wanting him.”
Your heart pounded.
You whispered, “I don’t want him.”
Jimin tilted his head.
“Then why are you blushing?” he asked softly.
Your face heated instantly.
You slammed the glass down on the table.
“I’m not!”
Jimin chuckled quietly.
“You are,” he said.
Then he leaned forward, voice low.
“And you should be careful.”
You swallowed.
“Careful of what?”
Jimin’s eyes darkened.
“Jungkook doesn’t know how to want gently,” he murmured.
Your throat tightened.
“And you do?”
Jimin smiled slowly.
“No,” he admitted.
Then he added softly—
“But I know how to wait.”
The words sank into your skin like a promise.
You stared at him, breathing unevenly.
Jimin didn’t move.
He didn’t touch you.
He didn’t force you.
He just watched you.
Like a patient predator.
And the worst part?
It made your skin crawl… and your heart race at the same time.
The door clicked suddenly.
You flinched.
But it wasn’t Jungkook.
It was Taehyung’s voice from outside.
“Jimin. Switch.”
Jimin sighed lightly.
Then stood up.
He looked at you one last time.
His voice was soft.
“Try to sleep,” he said.
Then he added, almost like a secret—
“And don’t pretend you’re not curious.”
Your breath caught.
Before you could respond, Jimin opened the door.
Taehyung stepped inside.
Smiling.
Always smiling.
Jimin left.
The lock clicked again.
And now…
It was Taehyung.
Taehyung looked around the room like he was inspecting a new toy.
Then he looked at you.
And his smile widened.
“Hi,” he said brightly.
You stared at him.
“…Hi.”
Taehyung tilted his head.
“You look tired,” he said.
You laughed bitterly.
“No kidding.”
Taehyung walked closer, then sat on the edge of the bed like he belonged there.
“So,” he said casually, “which one of us scares you the most?”
Your stomach dropped.
You didn’t answer.
Taehyung smiled.
“Oh,” he said softly. “It’s Jungkook.”
You swallowed hard.
Taehyung leaned forward.
“Or maybe,” he murmured, “it’s Namjoon.”
You clenched your jaw.
“Stop.”
Taehyung chuckled.
“You know what I think?” he asked.
You glared.
“I don’t care.”
Taehyung’s eyes sparkled.
“I think,” he said softly, “you’re not scared of us.”
Your breath caught.
Taehyung leaned closer.
“I think you’re scared of yourself,” he whispered.
Your throat tightened.
“That’s not true.”
Taehyung smiled.
“Isn’t it?” he asked.
Then he stood up and walked slowly toward you.
He stopped in front of you.
Not touching.
But close enough to make you tense.
Then he whispered, voice low and amused—
“Because if you admit you want even a little bit of this…”
His gaze flicked to your lips.
“…you’ll never be able to stop.”
Your breath shattered.
Taehyung stepped back, satisfied.
Then he smiled again.
“Relax,” he said. “I’m not going to touch you.”
You swallowed hard.
“Why not?”
Taehyung’s smile turned wicked.
“Because,” he murmured, “watching you lose control without being touched…”
He tilted his head.
“…is more fun.”
Your blood ran cold.
And you realized—
Jimin was patience.
Jungkook was hunger.
But Taehyung?
Taehyung was a game.
And you were the one being played.
