"Good appointment?" Minnie asks as I sink down beside him at the bathhouse, body sinking onto the edge of the large tub, legs sliding into the water as I undraw the loose tie of the gown, letting it fall away from my body, pooling behind me.

His eyes rake over me in careful observation. Searching for harsh marks left behind, posture loosening when he doesn't find any.

"Easy appointment. The woman wanted to learn how to get pleasure without a man's touch." legs cutting through the warm water, humming happily at the gentle lap of it against skin.

"So an instructive session." He surmises.

I nod, fingers drifting over the marbled tiles, heated, smiling when his foot splashes water across my calf, feet slicing through water, ankle hooking against mine.

"Didn't actually have to use myself for it." I remark, tempted to slide into the water straight away.

"Did you wait long?" I ask.

He shakes his head, the simple earrings dangling at his lobe, lips stretching wide.

"I got a massage done. Not quite the talent that Jin has... with his exquisite touch." he sighs with faux-despair.

I nudge his side.

"Don't lie~ we both know there's a certain touch you prefer. And have shared on several occasions." I tease, head turning to take in the shift of his expression, eyes warming and lips curving with a generous tell.

I'd heard one name burst past those lips in an impassioned cry, body trembling and writhing with pleasure, skin glistening with exertion.

I'd heard and seen and witnessed it.

Had seen the pink cheeks and bashful gaze that was almost a touch too soft and endeared for him to brush it off as post-pleasure glow.

"If you keep that up I won't be inviting you into my bed with Namjoon after you're free." He threatens but his eyes crinkle with his smile, voice instantly warming.

"Oh Mimi honey... what makes you think I'd so easily fall into those sheets?" I croon, wriggling closer to the edge of the large sunken tub, mind leaning more and more towards sinking into the waters, ready to unwind and wash away the day.

"So you'd say no?" he prods curiously, slipping into the waters, the muscled line of his thighs sloshing into the water before he twists to face me, toned torso between my legs as he peers up at me.

I shrug.

"Who knows? What if I find myself some man candy?" I tease.

His eyes glint, wet hands curving around my ankles and sliding upwards, grazing across slick skin as he leans forward, brown eyes gleaming with warmth, lips quirking wider.

"Then I'll let you go. If you find any candy worthy enough to be on that arm, then I'll count my losses." He sighs, head dropping forward with a lamenting expression, startling me as a sudden splash of water, his arm cleaving through water to send another one my way. I blink the water out of my eyes, laughing at the way his head cocks playfully, water trickling down my bare skin.

He tracks the movement distractedly.

I kick up water at his face in response, shrieking when his hands tighten and tug me into the water, skimming up to curl around my thighs before settling on my hips.

The water laps at skin, warm and beckoning, Minnie's body leaning over to cage me to the edge of the large sunken tub.

Hands drifting up my waist, the tips of his thumbs grazing across the underside of my breasts, the touch searing.

Lips grazing across the curve of my shoulder, slow, light pecks that has me squirming, body leaning further against the tub, legs shifting wider to accommodate him, arms looping around him.

It's light and easy to fall towards his warmth, towards the affection given without a condition, without bartering anything. My hand drift across the low of his back, nails grazing before trailing to the front, slipping to rest on his abdomen and nudging him back.

Sinking down to dunk under the water, hearing the water splash and ripple as his body sinks down, hands darting and curling playfully to tickle until I push away, legs kicking up.

I feel the weight of my hair, plastered to skin and down my back, heavy and dripping, streaming down my body in rivulets and my eyes drift appreciatively over the water trickling over the plane of his chest, downwards and traitorously my eyes follow.

"You know if you keep quiet enough... no-one will know what I'm doing to you." he propositions, hand drifting across to grip at my inner thigh, tight and bruising grip, coaxing it to splay for him.

Water streams down his hair, skin glistening as he looks at me.

Siren.

That's what he looks like.

A creature of the water, enthralling and seductive. Body gleaming and more than testament enough to how his body is carved for and with pleasure. Sin cloaked with the beguiling softness of his face.

But before I can lean in, before I can give in to the sensual offer, a voice calls out.

Deep, low and smooth.

Honeyed and dulcet... but a threat no matter how prettily disguised remains just that.

And my body stiffens, spine locking.

"(Y/N)?" my name is called out as a question, in a voice too dauntingly familiar. Haunting. I hadn't heard my name spilled from the same lips so often quirked in a smirk and yet I recognised the owner of the voice immediately.

I watch Minnie's expression, watch it shift and then tighten with anger, confusion and uncertainty flickering in his eyes, gaze drifting to me.

He straightens up, water rippling as he moves past me, hand squeezing my waist protectively before tugging himself out.

I can't bring myself to change, arms curving around me and my conscious awareness of how bare I was. The thought didn't usually bother me... but with the owner of the voice, with the way my skin prickles, feeling the weight of his gaze has me unable to turn.

"(Y/N)... I've got your gown." Minnie murmurs quietly, his voice directly behind me and slowly I turn, avoiding letting my eyes drift as I draw myself out of water, body shielded by Jimin's as he wraps the same discarded gown around me, silken material dampening as I tug it closer around myself, tying it around me before stepping out.

And when I do see him a part of me balks, feet dragging to a stop almost immediately after moving away from Minnie.

I was expecting the sight of fine, rich fabric and glittering jewels, I was expecting heeled boots that clunked against the tiles of the bathhouse. I was perhaps almost expecting the mask to be curled around his face, to hide everything save for the crooked lilt to his lips.

Instead I see nothing I'd expected.

Throat bobbing nervously at the sight of the towel wrapped around his waist, at the glaring lack of clothes. My eyes trail over his face, perhaps taking him in properly for the first time.

Dark, piercing eyes that meet mine unwaveringly, sharp features that seemed to have been carved with precision, lips straight; neither curved into a smirk nor twisted with a frown, the sharp curve of his jaw exposed by the way his hair's pulled away from his face, a few stray curls brushing against skin.

There's no glittering chains decorating his throat, but his ears gleam with rubies, the earrings far too familiar, the sight of them stirring tendrils of anger and fear once more in me. The only ornament that adorns his skin. His hands are void of the bracelets I'd seen dangle from his wrists, fingers bare of the dark gloves that had encased them.

There's something bare and vulnerable about seeing him with a lack of clothes, without status and wealth dripping from every sharp line and crevice of his body. But it's daunting.

Eyes drifting in a quick scan over sharp collarbones, broad shoulders and a toned torso, fingers curling into fists at the implication my mind makes.

"Why are you here?" Minnie asks instead, slowly reaching for his folded towel, wrapping it around him, body flanking mine protectively.

His fingers press gently to the base of my back in support.

His eyes don't waver off me.

"I'm here for (Y/N)." blunt and voice low.

My body jolts, shrinking back.

"You booked an appointment? You're dropping this low?" I ask, voice wavering, betraying me with the discomfort and anxiousness the thought brings.

The same man because of who I'd had to work days to earn back every coin, because of who I'd whored myself out... feeling dirty and tainted and soiled by the end of it... that same man was here because he'd brought my company... my body.

"I brought your time. I just want to talk. Please." Voice turning softer, a small nervousness in his gaze, his body betraying that perhaps he wasn't as confident as his stance was, a slow pink beginning to seep into his cheeks at the other workers moving past; similar states of disarray. But they walked with a confidence, they owned every inch of skin on display.

The unnamed man in front of me is clearly fresh meat.

And anyone who spares him a glance, gazes lingering appreciatively, can see that.

"Talk? You want to talk?" I ask disbelievingly, voice ringing out in the empty space.

He nods. Jaw set and brows furrowed.

"You... you said your time was money. I want to apologise." He says softly.

He doesn't bother sparing Minnie's flanking embrace a glance, eyes boring into me, heavy and penetrative.

The weight in those eyes could strip someone bare without lifting a finger.

There's power pooling silently in those eyes and yet... he doesn't wield it. Nor does it leave me feeling petrified and unable to move, the sting of cold metal against my throat and hand tugging the fabric away to take the sack. The weight of this gaze is contemplative and thoughtful, eyes swirling with a mix of emotions I'll never truly decipher.

I don't quite realise how profound the relief is that he's not here for my body... how much it makes my body slump until Minnie's light grazing knuckles turn into a hand sprawled across my back to steady me as I lean back, the silky material of the gown clinging with the dampness of my body, hair seeping the water against skin in a way that makes my body shiver.

"Looks like you found a price for my time worthy enough that you were directed here during my pre-booked hours. A hefty sum then." I surmise as I take a step forward, straightening up.

Reminding myself.

This was my place. My space. This was my familiar territory.

He was the one sans mask standing in front of me, without the jewels and riches he adorned his body with. He was the one on uneven footing.

I turn to squeeze Minnie's arm, fingers brushing against the swell of his bicep, leaning close.

"I'll find you later."

His hand tugs me close, lips grazing the shell of my ear as he whispers softly.

"Stay safe." A plea and demand. I nod before stepping forward, moving towards the man who waits, eyes following me as I grow close.

"I'll get us a private chamber." I say as I brush past the man, not waiting to see if he follows.

His feet are soundless somehow against the wet tiling, moving soundlessly until he steps up beside me, matching me stride for stride, the tall imposing length of his profile making my throat bob nervously. Unable to quite the forget the same body pinning mine to the carriage seat, ruthless grin and dark, merciless eyes and cruel words.

When we slip into a private chamber, the tub is already prepped and ready for any appointment, scented candles and glass bottles of oils dotted around the space. I sink down on the rim of the large tub, fingers trailing through milky water, brushing against scattered red petals.

Flinching when grazing against one reminds me of the pastor. Reminds me of the bandit who'd stole everything I'd sold myself for that day. I pluck out a petal, shaking it free of stray droplets as I hold it up. Finally looking at him.

His eyes, too, are focused on the petal. For the first time since he'd stepped into the boathouse something humane flickers across his face.

A grimace.

Twisting beautifully carved gestures into an ugly emotion. Brows furrowing and lips twisting, jaw ticking as he looks at it.

"That day... you were dolled up for the pastor. And I mistook you for an elite lady..." he begins, voice low.

I scoff. The sound of derision slipping past my lips unbidden.

"Beg pardon for the delusion bandit."

His jaw clenches.

"I didn't know. I didn't know the price you paid for those coins and I called the marks the beast left behind the signs of your sin. I took and I take without a care. I relish in looting, in taking. And that day I felt the same rush, the same exhilaration." He confesses.

I let my legs stretch out in front of me, locking at the ankles as I lean my weight onto my hands, supported by the wide rim.

"And you wear the spoils of your little... loot so well. Those rubies are mine." I remark, tilting my chin towards the deep red droplets that gleam and dangle at his ears, brush against skin with the slightest shake of his head.

He shakes his head.

"They're mine now. What is yours however..." he states, striding forward with a surefire gait, muscles rippling and body tending when he steps close enough.

Seemingly from nowhere he procures a heavy weighted velvet pouch, the tassels looped around his fingers as he curls his palm around it and holds it out.

I stare, brows raised. Shame and anger threatening to shatter my demeanour.

"What's this for? What are you trying to buy now?" I sigh.

The new, tentative inkling of safety and relief I'd felt... that he wasn't here for my body shattering and crumbling around me. Body stiffening. Preparing to jerk away, to move from the chamber; the enclosed space and get away.

Surprised when he takes my hand off the rim of the tub, my body straightening as his fingers look around my wrist. Posture loosening slightly.

It's startling. The warmth that curls from his body and seeps against mine, brushing against the loose sleeve as he tugs my wrist forward, turning my hand over to set the pouch in it.

The weight is indication enough of just how substantial the amount is inside.

"The money I took. The money I owe..." he amends.

I stare.

Why's he giving it back? What cost does taking the money come with?

I eye him suspiciously.

"Why? Why would a bandit return his pillaging?"

His fingers draw mine around the pouch.

"Because I take from people who will bemoan the loss of their precious trinkets for a while and then move on. Who can replace it in a heartbeat. I don't take... won't take from someone who's livelihood was that money. That was my mistake. And you paid for it."

Livelihood.

This was my livelihood, weighting down my hand. How many hours had I toiled for this? How many customers had I served to re-earn this? And only I knew how much of Lee I had endured for this pouch worth of coins... how many vile fantasies and poisonous words I'd endured and listened to. How much he'd broken me for it... my fingers tighten. This was my livelihood.

I'd earned every damn coin and then some.

"You're really giving it back? After I paid it all off?" I ask, voice dropping to a hushed whisper... not quite daring to believe it. My eyes sting with just how much it means to have the money back... how the money can mean I can keep it, store it away to add to the amount of money I stored away after every appointment. It would make a sizeable difference in how long I'd have to scrimp and save. How much quicker I'd be able to leave.

"It's yours. I'm sorry you suffered and endured so much for it. I'm sorry Lee ever got to lay his hands on you. Sorry that what's done to him isn't enough." He murmurs.

Voice velvety soft, gentle and such a stark cry from the cutting tone he'd had with the mask on

Was that the real him or this? Was I walking into something? Was I going to end up paying an even bigger price for this?

"What cost? What price am I paying for this?" I ask.

His expression flickers, confusion as he opens his mouth.

"Surely you know money isn't the greatest payment a person has to give... so what price does this come at?" I ask again, slowly, watching comprehension dawn as a dark, brewing gaze in his eyes.

"The price of forgiveness. The price of letting myself earn redemption." He finally says.

I lean back, eyes scanning him.

Head tilting as I think.

A loose smile curling at my lips.

"You paid back the money taken. We're even on that. And what redemption does the unnamed bandit want?" I prompt.

He knew my name. I didn't know his.

There was a certain power wielded in that, and I wanted everything to be on an even footing. I wasn't sure what I was walking into... what I was even asking.

But I needed a name at the very least.

"Kim Taehyung."

I nod.

"What makes you think you'll cross paths again Kim? Why bother with redemption?"

Searching his gaze for that flicker of arousal... for lust, desire and want. For hot-blooded need and longing. For the yearning of a taste... a touch.

Curiously enough I don't find it blooming in his eyes, a need that sprouts and overtakes everything else. His eyes trail over me slowly, a weighted gaze that seems to caress every inch of skin and skim over the silky fabric.

"Why bother showing my face, telling you my name, coming all the way when I could've passed the money on by way of Jin?" He answers.

Then he leans. Looming over me, body bent forward, the closeness making my body shift back, tilting back and away, hand tightening on the rim, the scent of rose heavy. The same rich heady smell still seeps off him; the musky notes branding across my lungs, searing it with the memory of this. Golden, smooth skin looming in my sight, sharp collarbones trailing to broad shoulders as he looks at me.

His hand curls forward, brushing against my side to pluck another red petal, eyes gleaming.

"Because you intrigue me (Y/N). The dolled up lady with all the jewels somehow doesn't catch my eye as much as the look on your face does now. Because for me... the debt was beyond the loot. And it's simply unpaid still."

Retreating and taking with him the strong potency of the heady scent.

Stepping away with a small dip of his head.

"That's all of your time I'll take today. I truly am sorry (Y/N)." He murmurs, my name rolling off his tongue with ease.

I watch in surprise as he gives me a smile, a crooked tilt that's warm and tentative and new. Familiar and unfamiliar all at once. It's like his smirk but softer. Gentler. Genuine.

And it's when he turns to leave do I finally see the simple ribbon tying his hair back, dark curls brushing against his nape and past the line of his shoulders. See the broad definition of his back and the towel curled and tucked securely around his hips.

"By the way... a gentleman never says but I feel you'll thank me for saving you grace. Your gown's gaping." He says, leaning against the chamber's entrance, eyes sparkling with laughter, a bubble of the sound; warm and heavy and rich as his eyes linger before he leaves.

I don't give him the satisfaction of dropping my eyes to fix myself up, wait until he's left before my head drops down, eyes widening at the sight of the fabric, drenched and plastered to the curve of my breasts, hardened tips straining against the fabric, flush at the swell of cleavage the gaping neckline indeed reveals.

I tug it back to cover myself up even if the damage has already been done, the pouch weighing down my hand.

And when I later count it, eyes equally as wide as Minnie's... I find he's left more than the hefty sum Madame Lim had punished me for. More than the amount with the compensation I'd had to pay.

I remember his words.

The money I took... the money I owe.

And I remember his words, the weight of his gaze and the unspoken, unshared secrets pooling in molten eyes.

And somehow I don't think I've seen the last of him.

Kim Taehyung, bandit.

With a heart.

-------

True to thought... he doesn't vanish.

And everytime I see him amble into the pleasure den, it's with a look of confidence and assuredness, eyes gleaming and unaffected to the workers that flock to him, wealth dripping off him, gloved hands tucked into the jingling pockets of his breeches.

What surprises me is the variety of clothes he wears. And how well he adorns it all.

All ruffles and billowy fabric one day, neck and chest gleaming with chains that curl around his body, under the loose fabric to hug at a broad back and small waist. Ears glittering with dangling, bright jewels that drew attention to the curls he had tied back with velvet or satin ribbons. And at times hair left curled around his shoulder, unbound and untamed; glossy black curls that grazed his throat, brushed against his sharp collarbones, fitted breeches and silky shirts that made him glow under the lanterns.

If Jimin was desire's incarnate, Taehyung was wealth. Dripping, gleaming, untouchable wealth.

And yet under it... under the mask that his clothes and jewellery made, he steps through to the booked room I was waiting in, eyes flicking over the scanty dress, ties loosened and corset taut and moulded to me; pushing up my chest into heaving swells that brimmed over the bodice and saunters over to sit on the bed. Away from me.

It's confusing.

Perplexing.

And embarrassing when his eyes so void of interest focused on my face, fingers hastily fixing the ties and straightening the mussed skirts as I stand.

"Kim. Why are you here?" I ask, surprised as I stand over the bed, watch as he eyes the clean sheets before shucking off his heeled boots, ankles crossing as he stretches out across the bed, arms crossed behind his head, watching me.

He gestures to the space beside him.

"For your time and pleasurable company of course." He drawls, confidence softened by the low hum of his voice.

I cock my head.

Standing at the foot of the bed, looking over him, lips quirking with wry, sensual tease.

"Pleasurable company? Got a little problem to be taken care of?"

He snorts, eyes rolling as he pats the space beside him.

"Pleasure doesn't have to be of the body." Eyes tracking me as I walk round to sink onto the bed, slightly out of my element, drawing my legs up to sit leaning against the wall.

"So what pleasure are you here for?" I ask curiously.

"Of the mind."

His answer takes me aback but his grin, loose and wry, is what dissolves my defences a bit, disarming and charming.

And by the time he's leaving, the session coming to its end, I forget what it was I'd said to him when he'd entered, body stiffening when he leans in, gloved fingers brushing back a strand of curled hair to murmur into my ear.

Breath warm and grazing against skin.

"I assure you... if I was to have a problem to be taken care of... it's far from little."

And meeting... seeing Kim Taehyung I realise leaves me feeling out of my depth.

Always left uncertain and confused as I watch him walk away, posture sure and gait cocky.

Thrown-off by his teasing manner of speaking and yet the hands that don't dare linger, ghosting touches as if he shrinks away from me, eyes that hold flickers of regret and remorse everytime he sees me.

I don't know whether he's here to repay the debt he still believes is held over him or whether he comes for something else.

I just know that I'm left with endless questions and answers to ones I'd never even thought of.

--------

The carriage and shudders to a jerk, body jolting as I grip the cushions, try to steady myself as the horses nicker ahead; anxious, and my body bends forward, eyes flashing to stare past the window, fingers tugging the velvet drapes aside.

The door jerks open, startling and sudden, mind flashing to a memory; still vivid and fresh in my mind.

This time my heart doesn't clench fiercely with terror, my throat doesn't tighten with crippling fear and my stomach doesn't churn. It twists, posture loosening when I spot the familiar sight of the masked bandit in front of me, eyes drifting over him.

I take in the drapes and pleats of his jacket, the bow at his throat, fabric loose, take in the glittering chains that curl around his body over the fabric, pulling it taut, moulding it to him, the breeches that outline the muscular line of his legs.

The mask curls around his face once more, covering the high of his cheekbones, the shape of his eyelids, the stubborn curls brushing over the mask, over his eye.

I let out a breath I hadn't known I'd been holding.

Smiling with amusement at the grin he gives, rakish and liberated.

"Heading back?" voice curious.

I still didn't know the full picture that was Kim Taehyung.

But I knew glimpses.

Glimpses unearthed in the sessions he paid for, only to sprawl across the sheets, talk to me, or at times just nap; I'd been thrown off the first time it had happened, startled that he'd felt safe enough, had let his guard down; face smoothened out, one of the cushions clutched between his arms.

I'd seen this side.

Bandit. I didn't know whether the wealth he wore was taken or his own, whether it meant he came from a rich lineage or whether he adorned his loot proudly and indulgently... knew that to some extent; the thrill of looting, of taking, of chasing after what he desired was why he did it.

But maybe I'd never know.

What I do know as I look at him, is his wide grin and the gleam in his eyes that he's just freshly pillaged, watch as he steps through, sprawling on the opposite seats.

"Finished with an appointment." I confirm, rolling my shoulders unconsciously to loosen the stiffness in them, fingers curling around my left shoulder; kneading and massaging.

My head rises to see his gaze fixed on the motion, eyes narrowed at the sight.

"Does it hurt a lot?"

The answer shouldn't spill out so easily but it does.

"I guess I got signed up for that when I had two young lords to cater to." I mutter under my breath, back twinging as I reach for a cushion; frowning as I try to settle myself more comfortably.

I'd need Jin's massaging when I got back and my legs still ached and throbbed, I knew the soreness would last a while.

Young, virile lords with too much hunger and need, too inexperienced but compensating for it with brute force.

I don't know why I share that bit with Taehyung, but his expression shifts. Turning tighter, lips curling with a snarling grimace.

"You said got signed up for... don't you get to choose? Have any say in any of it?" he asks.

My hand stops adjusting the cushion, turning to face him.

"Do you really think I'd let Pastor Lee touch me even once if that was the case. The holy ones aren't known for their inexperience Taehyung."

Is it easier to admit that to him because he's in no way entangled in the messier parts of my life? Is it easier to say it but the shame is somehow greater? Because he won't ever know the price, the compulsion, the necessity to.

"I—it's not fair. I wish I could do something..." he begins, leaning forward, fingers dithering, gloved hand outstretched as it hovers over my shoulder, where my own hand had gone back to curl protectively over it. Still feeling the pain thrumming, hands locked around my wrists and wrenching it back, a voice at my nape and another mocking and cocky as he watched. As he pushed me back towards the other, their bodies pinning mine.

Revulsion curdles my stomach, threatens to make bile sting my throat as I shrink back instinctively, hand tightening around the brocade fabric.

Kim Taehyung is bandit first... new acquaintance teetering close to friendship second.

A part of me still hesitates to let him see or get close to any weakness.

Bandit first.

That's how I knew the man who ambled into my private rooms and sprawled over sheets, that's how I knew the man who'd paid off the debt; long since cleared it with the sincerity I'd read in his body countless times... and yet he lingered. He remained. He wormed his way in more and more.

He was dangerous.

Appealed to every base desire and then some.

And I didn't know why.

Couldn't figure out the reason he wanted. Why he was appealed or attracted?

Why take broken goods when you can have untouched ones?

Bandit first. Remember that (Y/N).

"Who ever said life dealt me a good hand? I can only play with the cards I have."

And as his eyes hold mine, hand curling away at my defensive posture, I wonder what cards he holds and plays by.

And which card brought him to me.

TAE POV:

The first time I see her, walking quietly through the bathhouse, tugging away prying hands and slightly unsettled by heavy, weighted gazes, it's to finally stumble across her near a large tub.

The waters deep and heated and curling to brush and lap at her skin, drifting over the curve of her spine and long hair plastered to wet skin. Somehow I know it's her. See the man opposite her, caging her body to the tiles with an easy grin; eyes pooling with want. I recognise him, and he does me with the way his face shifts; turning hard and fiercely protective. Her body stills in the water, tensing.

I see his body slip out the water uncaring of his bareness, water streaming off his body, twisting after a glare to help block her from sight as she tugs herself out. It's distracting and I don't miss the slender curve of her calves behind his, the generous swell of her hips and breasts when she steps out from behind him, gown tugged around her body to shield it from view.

It feels like the wrong moment to tell her the water already clinging to her body just draws the fabric taut, draws it to mould against her skin.

The man slips behind her, holding her and staring me down. Sharp, piercing eyes that penetrate searchingly, graze over my similar lack of disrobement; both their eyes trailing over my skin.

I'm confident and secure in my skin, never felt out of depth in it.

But having meticulously taken off every chain, every jewel save for the rubies... standing here with not a single layer of cloth bar the towel to cover me slightly... is an odd feeling. Has me feeling vulnerable and uncertain because I'm standing in front of the two of them who couldn't look more at home, more confident and aware of their prowess, of the allure their bodies pose.

Siren.

That's what she looks like, silken fabric damp and clinging, skin gleaming with water that marks endless trails across her body.

Siren.

With her unbound hair curling over her back, around her shoulders, skin damp and lips parting in shock.

This. This is why the price had been so readily accepted.

Little bird the owner called her and yet all I could think was siren.

I watch her face harden, shift with unease when she asks if I'm here for her body, bought her time and therefore the pleasure of having her.

My gut twists, wrenching fiercely and my mouth sours with a bitterness as I shake my head.

Did every person only take?

Watch the confusion and disbelief mar every beautiful, bare feature when I say I want to apologise. Was the notion that foreign and alien to her?

To hear an apology? To hear someone wanted to talk and not use her?

And like a siren, she reels me in, my body moving after hers as she brushes past without sparing a glance, hips swaying and posture confident and assured; moving and navigating the open pleasures and leisure of the bathhouse without a care for the entangled bodies so visibly in sight. For the men and women taken and being taken.

A nervousness thrums through me at the hunger and appreciation in some eyes, the lust isn't new but the primal, unhinged glaze is. As if they'd do anything for pleasure, name any price and sell themselves up on a platter.

I step up to match her stride, feeling slightly assured by the way the gazes are tinged with a barrier, with a distance they don't dare broach.

Untouchable I realise.

The chamber she leads us into is prepped. Kept prepared in advance for appointments and she moves away from me, slowly walking over towards the tub. Sinking down on its rim as her fingers trail across the water, a slight flinch contained in her body as she looks at the red petals.

Plucks one out.

She'd been wearing red the day I'd met her; had carried the scent of roses under the musky scent of sweat and sex.

Red roses. Pastor. Anger curls around my gut; hot and simmering.

She plucks one out, shaking it free of droplets as she meets my gaze, sharp, heavy eyes that pin me where I stand. Look up at me, head tilted back slightly and yet she holds the power.

She's the one with the towering aura, controlling the tension that thrums in the chamber.

My lips twist at the sight of the petal, wishing we'd done more to the pastor. Wishing I'd done more... knowing he deserved unmeasurable pain for the suffering he'd inflicted.

"That day... you were dolled up for the pastor. And I mistook you for an elite lady..." I begin, halting at the derision that slips past full lips, face flashing with displeasure.

"Beg pardon for the delusion bandit." Drawling and full of contempt.

For some reason it irks to hear the way she says it, my role and title that I relished in dragged through muck with the way she says it. Spits it like a curse. Crushed under the slender curve of her feet. But it had been my mistake. My doing that had been her undoing.

"I didn't know. I didn't know the price you paid for those coins and I called the marks the beast left behind the signs of your sin. I took and I take without a care. I relish in looting, in taking. And that day I felt the same rush, the same exhilaration." I admit, voice tinged with remorse, with a thrum of anger that would take a long, long time to quench. Maybe it never would.

Maybe I'd always carry that regret that my own thrill had cost someone their body over and over. Uncountable times.

Her legs lock, ankles crossing as she peers at me, lidded gaze that should strike arousal to curl but it makes me feel pinned. Small.

"And you wear the spoils of your little... loot so well. Those rubies are mine." She observes, eyes fixing on them.

She didn't need or deserve to wear the rubies. To wear jewellery that reminded her of that day... of how many times she'd been taken by a man whose desire was beyond primal and animalistic.

I shake my head.

"They're mine now. What is yours however..." I say as I move forward, plucking out a velvet pouch, feeling the towel loosen, tightening it as I hold it out. Watch her eyes flicker and her brows rise impassively.

She seems disappointed almost when she sighs.

"What's this for? What are you trying to buy now?"

I balk, anger and sorrow making my body itch with need to wipe the uncertainty and resignation away.

I bend over, tugging her hand away from the rim of the tub, fingers looping around her wrist; delicate and slender and so easily encased... drawing open her fingers as I turn her hand over and set the pouch down.

Feeling a weight lift off my shoulders at it.

"The money I took. The money I owe..." I correct. Money she toiled for, money she lost and because her time was money. Because she'd had to break her body to mould it to countless touches because of what I'd done.

"Why? Why would a bandit return his pillaging?" she asks, voice tinged with curiosity.

I draw her fingers around the velvet, closing them around the pouch.

Because I never meant to take. Not from someone who needed the money. Not from someone who worked harder for it than me.

"Because I take from people who will bemoan the loss of their precious trinkets for a while and then move on. Who can replace it in a heartbeat. I don't take... won't take from someone whose livelihood was that money. That was my mistake. And you paid for it."

And I've hated myself for it.

Hated that I threw around words without knowing their depth. Hated that I assumed the trinkets were a mere façade to hide the claim of sex she'd worn. Hated the repercussions she paid for my doing.

It was a debt too great that money couldn't amount to.

"You're really giving it back? After I paid it all off?" her voice is quieter than I've heard it, disbelieving and stunned.

But it was never mine to begin with. Never mine to take when she had no other way of getting it.

"It's yours. I'm sorry you suffered and endured so much for it. I'm sorry Lee ever got to lay his hands on you. Sorry that what's done to him isn't enough." I say.

"What cost? What price am I paying for this?" still sceptical and distrusting. Still unsure as to what I meant, what me visiting her meant.

Wondering if there was the price her body had to pay after all as she speaks.

"Surely you know money isn't the greatest payment a person has to give... so what price does this come at?"

Threads of anger and rage interlink, merging together at the weary resignation in her face, at the tiredness that seems to tug at her words.

"The price of forgiveness. The price of letting myself earn redemption." I finally say.

Watch her scan me before a warm smile, genuine and loose, and disarmingly sweet tugs at her lips.

A smile like that could unravel any chain, any shackle.

"You paid back the money taken. We're even on that. And what redemption does the unnamed bandit want?" she questions.

And I realise with a flush... that she has nothing else to call me by. Nothing else to recognise me as.

I wanted her to know my name. Wanted to hear her say it.

"Kim Taehyung."

"What makes you think you'll cross paths again Kim? Why bother with redemption?"

Because I want to rewind time and make amends.

Because if I knew I'd reel back the clock and not take from you... but then I'd have never known you.

And something about you reels me in. You're intriguing.

"Why bother showing my face, telling you my name, coming all the way when I could've passed the money on by way of Jin?" I answer with a question, evading delving into the confusing mix of feelings and thoughts that I wasn't ready to decipher myself.

But.

But... she intrigues me. Feeds into that curious hunger to know about the woman with the burning eyes and the beguiling wiles.

Plucking a petal from the warm, milky waters, eyes taking in the bright red jewelled hue of it.

"Because you intrigue me (Y/N). The dolled up lady with all the jewels somehow doesn't catch my eye as much as the look on your face does now. Because for me... the debt was beyond the loot. And it's simply unpaid still."

There's a while to go to pay it.

To lift myself off that burden.

And maybe I didn't mind the thought of frequenting to visit. To spend time with her.

"That's all of your time I'll take today. I truly am sorry (Y/N)." I murmur, leaning away from her sprawled, stretched enticing form.

Mentally calculating that this. This was long enough for an appointment.

This much time I'd taken... was long enough.

And as I walk away, I can't help the teasing remark that slips past my lips, the fleeting observation that was burned across the inside of my eyes.

I turn back to look at her, eyes grazing slowly over her.

"By the way... a gentleman never says but I feel you'll thank me for saving you grace. Your gown's gaping." I remark, leaning against the doorway, voice filled with laughter that spills out, watching the slightest widening of her eyes.

But she steadfastly holds mine, refuses to look away even as the fold of her gown remains parted, revealing the swell of her cleavage, risen from the way she sits, revealing the line and curve of her calves trailing up to her thighs; hidden away by the fabric.

I linger for a few moments before leaving, tugging my towel looser as I step out towards the small hallway leading to the enclosed space, hand running through my hair and tugging it looser; dishevelled, gnawing at my lips almost furiously before stepping out to the main space of the bathhouse; the winding hallways and open tubs.

Stepping back into view.

People had seen us enter.

But they only see me leave.

See bitten-red lips, dishevelled hair and a towel slung looser across my hips.

They make their own conclusions.

Ones that are safe to make for her own sake.

And I walk away, feeling the jeering gazes follow.

Head pounding with the thought...

Just how did she survive this daily?

------

She looks surprised the second time I turn up. Just as surprised and bewildered the third, fourth and fifth time.

Looks surprised as she steps aside to let me in, fingers doing up loosened stays, brushing out rumpled skirts and impatiently nudging her hair, so elaborately curled and designed, away from her face.

"What are you doing here?" curious and intrigued as she stares me down, rosy lips twisting with confusion.

I let my eyes drift over her, how finely she's dressed, bodice clinging to her torso, skirts brushing and flaring out from her small waist.

Not for the first time I wonder whether my hands could encircle it entirely if I was to tug her close.

"Visiting."

"You pay large sums for what? Why?" as she sinks down onto a chair, gripping the smooth, velvet upholstery, posture slumped as she bends forward.

I tear my eyes away from the alluring sight of the delicate chains dangling, the curve of her cleavage.

Tug my gloves off, one by one before letting them fall onto the bed.

"Your time. Your company." I say easily, legs crossing as I stretch across the silk sheets, marvelling at the quality.

But despite their fineness... they served little purpose than being terrible to grip at, to clutch at as you writhed on the sheets... they serve little purpose than being fluid and smooth against heated flesh.

They were good to ruin someone on.

That's it.

I wondered how many people she'd relished in undoing. In how many she'd enjoyed taking apart. How many times she'd been on the sheets and enjoyed being pinned to them. The thought fleetingly burns across my mind and then goes.

Her fingers loop around her stays.

"These stay tied then." A careful remark.

Eyes testing and searching.

And like everytime I shrug.

"Undone or not... I'm not here for your body. I just want to get to know you."

And slowly.... Visit by visit something tentative dares to take root and bloom.

Tilting too often on something more, the thrill of mutual attraction threatening to fuel light interactions into something heavier.

And yet neither of us dare cross it.

Bodies stretched side by side on sheets, learning about each other.

Painting pictures with the glimpses of each others' lives that we were given.

Bit by bit I try piece together puzzle pieces to form together what (Y/N) was.

And I know her well enough to be able to fall asleep when silence falls, comfortable and languid, curling under the sheets and body wound around a cushion. Comfortable enough to stir when she nudges me, voice soft that the session's over.

Straightening and stretching, rubbing my eyes and pushing my hair away.

I yawn as she steps up, eyes fluttering open and shut as my eyes drift, searching for my discarded waistcoat.

Stilling when she steps forward to sink hands into my hair and tug, my throat arching as my head falls back, purposely dishevelling my hair, fingers winding around curls to arch my neck further for her.

There's something heavy in her gaze and amusement tugs at her lips, messing my curls up as she loosens her grip.

I feel comfortable enough to watch as she tosses my waistcoat to me.

"Is hair tugging something you like then?" I remark, shrugging it on and frowning at the creases in my shirt.

She hums, eyes flitting to me.

"I don't know... is it?" she evades easily, eyes gleaming with laughter.

I cock my head, searching for the ribbon to draw free, to tie back my hair more neatly, leaving the waistcoat to hang open, unbuttoned and loose around the rumpled shirt.

No doubt any patron of the establishment thought I was hungering for (Y/N).

Unable to stop wanting a taste.

Addicted.

I was fuelling them... (Y/N) was.

Didn't mean we were going to stop. Not when it meant our sessions were undisturbed. Not when it meant I could talk to her. Get to know her.

"I think... if... and on the rare occasion that you have indulged in pleasure for yourself; when you're so overcome with it you can't think. Tugging and curling your fingers into someone's hair may well be the only thing anchoring you." I muse as I stand.

Noting the bob of her throat.

Brushing down her skirts and unhesitant to tug her bodice stays looser, cleavage less restrained, lips gloriously mussed in a way that made me want to do them for her.

Make it genuine.

"Well~ that's for the limited few to know then isn't it?" she taunts playfully as she gestures to the door, leans against it, body postured sensually as she pinches my side.

Laughing with her head tilted, throat arched; passing by customers pausing in their tracks at the sight, the sound warm and real; something I preen at being able to differentiate, her finger rubbing a circle almost apologetically as she nudges me away.

"Until the next time you need my service Lord Kim."

My boots clink against the floor, a smile curving across my face as I tip my head to her.

"Till the next time vixen."

-------

Looting becomes an even headier thrill.

Intoxicating and enticing, curling around me and yanking for more.

That need to take growing strong.

It's richly alluring to watch the finest lords and ladies balk with distress and fear, see their snootiness fall away when power is shown... when they fall silent at the dagger that twirls and dances between my fingers, cutting pouches free; intercepting large, covert, deliveries that never quite make it to manors and estates bedecked in so much wealth already.

And because with each loot, with each pillage, my eyes linger on fine, cut jewels, glittering chains and ornaments and for the first time begin to wonder what they'd look on someone other than me.

What they'd look grazing the soft curve of (Y/N)'s jaw, around the slender curve of her throat or the enticing sway of her hips. What they'd look dangling from dainty ankles or winding around the curves of her body.

Because I loot and I don't just hunger for me to wear them but (Y/N) too. Leave small trinkets behind after every session and see the way bit by bit, camaraderie blooms and geniality melts away the slight apprehension.

It makes my body burn hot with satisfaction, deeply-rooted and ever constant, to see the same gifted jewels looped through her ears, encasing her throat, dangling from hands; gleaming in my vision as she meticulously ruins my appearance.

Looting becomes a fuel.

Pouring the loot into also paying for the sessions; amounts that even with the hefty extortion I knew the establishment was pocketing... would still leave a sizeable amount for (Y/N). For her to spend on.

Unrestrained and unhindered.

Looting became an even heavier rush.

And as I urge my horse closer, pockets jingling, it's towards a familiar carriage; glimpsing the same side profile I'd curled towards; had observed in silence, itching to graze with my fingers the same way my eyes had.

Feel my lips stretching wide unconsciously, eyes flashing with delight under my mask as I move towards the front of the horses, cut in front and watch them rear back, alarm and fear on the driver's face as he clutches at the reins.

It's almost pitying how easy it is to land a blow to the back of his head, his body slumping over, fear-filled eyes rolling up as he sags.

Pitying really how untrained people were.

My fingers make deft work of tying my horse up, striding towards the door and tugging it open, clambering in and watching surprise melt into recognition.

Wry and relieved at once.

My eyes drift, almost always, across her as I sink down on the opposite seat, sprawling gracelessly as I stare at her.

"Finished with an appointment." She says, leaning back and fingers loosening from the seating, fluttering to curl around her shoulder and kneading at it. A grimace that's not quite hidden as she massages herself, trying to ease pain.

My eyes narrow at the sight, heart thrumming with anger. It was a familiar, ugly feeling I was increasingly accustomed to.

Because whenever I saw her I couldn't forget just how many shackles bound her. Just how restrained and compelled she was.

"Does it hurt a lot?" I ask, voice soft.

Rage rearing its vicious head when she mutters, voice almost inaudible.

"I guess I got signed up for that when I had two young lords to cater to." Reaching for a cushion to give herself some sort of relief... respite.

The thought of two young men taking her... using her without a single regard for her own safety or pleasure makes bitterness curl around my throat; crushing and venomous, lips twisting into a snarl.

"You said got signed up for... don't you get to choose? Have any say in any of it?" I manage to force out past the tightness that closes my throat.

Wishing there was another way, wishing she could say no.

She was on lesser calls, less appointments. But still.

Still she was hurting this way.

"Do you really think I'd let Pastor Lee touch me even once if that was the case. The holy ones aren't known for their inexperience Taehyung." Voice resigned and bitter.

Eyes flicking over me with a clear message.

I wouldn't understand. I wouldn't ever be able to relate. I wouldn't ever know what the cost of saying no was.

"I—it's not fair. I wish I could do something..." I say, leaning forward, hand stretching out to help, to curl over her shoulder and try massage it, try ease the stiffness away. Still when she shrinks back automatically without realising, hand curving protectively as she clutches it.

She looks uncertain and lost.

Defeated for an instance.

"Who ever said life dealt me a good hand? I can only play with the cards I have."

I feel my heart wrench painfully.

Looking at her with sorrow.

Leaning forward despite myself and taking her fingers off her shoulder, other hand replacing it, settling carefully over it.

I draw her fingers close, turn it over to trace the tip of my finger over the lines on her palm; the crisscrossing lines that so many foolishly believed were fate. Were written destinies.

No-one ever got far by leaving things to fate. To the hands of an unknown destiny unchangeable and written in the stars.

Life dealt us a hand and we played its game of gamble and chance.

But life was full of tricks and curves and loops no-one expected.

If we didn't like the cards we had, who said play by the rules?

Who said play honestly?

"If life deals you a bad hand... you make the most of it, you bluff and make the others fold. You win with the cards you have. You can play with the cards you have... question is whether you're willing to gamble it all for the big win." I murmur, tracing the lines of her palm, watching as she shivers, body shuddering as her eyes pin mine.

Is she all in?

Because if she is... I'm willing to be her surprise card. The ace she pulls out of her sleeve.

Willing to trump the others and score her a win.

Willing to bend the rules, shatter them and remould them for her.

One word.

And I was all in too.

(THERE WE GO! ANOTHER CHAPTER! AND Midiiplier  I HOPE YOU'RE LOVING IT COS THIS IS MEANT TO BE CATERED FOR YOU. SO~ LIKING THE TEASE AND THOUGHTS AND BURNING TENSION THAT'S GROWING AND WILL CONTINUE TO GROW? LET ME KNOW MY ABSOLUTE DARLING LOML! MWAH! I HOPE EVERYONE IS READY TO SEE THE TENSION SPIKE AND THE SCENES TO GO HEAVY SO HEADS UP NOW! HOW IS EVERYONE FINDING BANDIT V BY THE WAY?? AND MINNIE REALLY IS BESTIE! ANYTHING THAT READ AS WEIRD?? LET ME KNOW YOUR THOUGHTS AND ENJOY!)

Borahae! 💜💜💜

PurpleQueenie <3