I wake up entangled in sheets and a body, feeling weightless and pinned down all at once, a leg slung over my hips and an arm snaked around my torso, long fingers splayed across my stomach, pressed against skin. The lips that graze my nape are plush and warm, are familiar against my body.

Fingers tightening before loosening, sheets rustling as the man behind me straightens up, hand slipping away and face creased with sleep blinking down at me blearily. I twist on the mattress, smiling up at the figure looming over me, hand reaching to squeeze his hand, slowly shuffling up, the loose fabric of the negligee fluttering around me as I straighten.

His eyes crease, lips a warm curve as he looks at me, absentmindedly pushing away strands of hair off the loose drape of fabric against my shoulders.

My body curves towards his, chasing the natural warmth and heat seeping off his body, fingers curling around the firm, muscled definition of his shoulder as I rest my head against him, legs twisting to curve and splay across his lap, eyes fluttering sleepily when his hands drop to my waist to tug me more securely to him, drawing me onto his legs.

Head resting on top of mine, a sleepy nuzzle as he curls close, soft deep breaths as he hums.

"You're not sore or hurting are you?" he asks.

I shake my head, pressing a kiss to his shoulder, to his jaw.

There's a pleasant soreness from where he'd carefully taken me apart last night. And in chasing that memory, that feeling... I push away the memory of rough hands taking and taking, I push away the memory of lips soured with alcohol; stale and bitter and unwelcomed, grazing every inch of my body. I push away the memory of countless faces blurring but the carnal gleam in their eyes all the same. Pupils flooded with arousal and hands gripping and groping at what a handful of coins would get them.

"Believe it or not you don't take up a lot of space in my bed. And a whole night of cuddling didn't make me tired, far from it actually." I mumble, hand tightening when he shifts slightly, leaning against the headboard.

Because that's how our night had blurred together, lazy, unhurried touches and a slow tautness, pleasure winding and curling around my spine, shattering over me, a crest that had peaked and washed over me in gentle lapping waves, body trembling at how overwhelming it had been. It hadn't been blinding and consuming and frantic. It had been slow and gradual before taking over every nerve cell, every inch of skin. It had been a night passed with voices brushing against each other and hearts opening; sharing glimpses of lives that perhaps we'd have never experienced otherwise.

His hand rubs a line up and down my spine.

"I enjoyed it. A lot. There's not a lot of people who like pillow talk quite as much as you." he teases.

"I can count on one hand how many men are good in bed. Who are gentlemen and yet know how to make a woman unravel completely." I retort, eyes drifting up, blinking up to focus at the sight of pink building on his cheeks, colouring the warmth golden hue of his skin, dimples peeking out as he grins.

"I'll be honest, you're the only woman who makes me sway from my preference. It makes me wonder whether it's just because it's you." he readily admits, brown eyes twinkling.

I let my fingers drift down from his shoulder over his muscled torso, coaxing out a startled hiss, hips shifting.

"Charmer. It's your dimples that make it so easy to give in." I croon.

He laughs, a warm sound that's like liquid warmth spilling over my skin, lips bending to press against my jaw, to press softly to my throat.

"Ahhh if only love was easy and we were each other's person." he laments playfully.

I laugh, fingers trailing lower, nails grazing over his abdomen and feeling his stomach clench and tighten, reaching for the waistband of his untied breeches, hand slipping under fabric and grinning at the needy groan that slips out, hips jerking forward at the first touch as my fingers wrap around him.

"If only. But where love isn't desire most certainly still is." I murmur, lips mouthing at his shoulder, twisting to straddle him properly, silky material riding up on my thighs, hips canting forward towards his, fingers slipping away. My head tilts back, breath shaky when his hands come to clamp on my hips, burning where they press tightly to skin and grip me, yanking me forward, grip fierce and unrelenting, hips bucking up against mine. Teeth dragging at my skin, tugging at the straps and lacings until it gives way, lips feverish against the curve of my breast.

"Desire never goes." He murmurs, words rumbling against skin, back arching when his fingers trail lower gripping at my thighs before trailing inwards.

Spreading me wide for him, legs stretching out across the bed and hand coaxing out cries I muffle against his skin, mouthing shakily at his shoulder to stifle a cry.

And this casual, easy intimacy. Familiar and safe and yet intoxicating and heady, hands brushing against skin, nails digging in when his hips roll against mine, clothes discarded and bodies curling towards each other... it's an escape, a reprieve from the world that awaited us beyond the bedroom doors, awaited when we put back our clothes and moved back into our respectable orbits, drifting in and close to each other but never truly meant to align.

And now there's a hurriedness as we chase pleasure, a quickness to reach that imploding edge once more, to find relief and release in each other, chase the heated touch of each of our bodies pressing into the other's, a slew of groans and gasps exhaled against each other, fingers curling into his hair to tug him closer, back arching and pushing into the touch of his tongue marking a trail down my breast.

And a flushed shared euphoric ecstasy as we come down from our shared high, breathless gasps and smiles curving across our faces, soft laughs and ease in our touch as we help each other clean up, helping him redress.

"Thank you Namjoon-ah, you made this week fly by, I feel guilty that it wasn't as hard as I thought it'd be." I murmur quietly, straightening his collar.

His hand comes to still my movement.

Eyes searching and penetrative.

Voice soft but knowing, radiating with that ever-present authoritative calm.

"I didn't miss the marks (Y/N). And I know you've been in more pain than you've let on. The week's been hard on you even if you won't say. And I've only been here twice this week." He remarks, eyes glinting with a simmering anger at some of the bruises that hadn't been covered; wouldn't vanish no matter how many salves I'd rubbed in and how much I'd used the powders and creams to hide it.

And that explains the particular tenderness and delicacy he'd had. A lightness to each lingering trail of fingers that grazed my body.

I shrug.

"It's been easier because of you. Because my week started good and ended good. It made the rest of the days blur... even if it was slightly." I whisper.

His hands curl around me to draw me in an embrace; the same gentleness he'd shown between the sheets, always just an extension of who he was; warm and safe and fiercely protective. Tender and careful. Hands looped loosely around me.

"I'm sorry I couldn't do more." He whispers back.

You've done enough.

You made a week's worth of agony fade into nightmares. You made this entire week seem less like hell when you saw me through it and came out of it with me in your hold.

You made at least two nights of it pleasure and safety and trust.

"You're a good friend Namjoon-ah. And you deserve desire and love to come as a package deal." I say as his arms fall away, lips pressing to his cheek.

His face crinkles, smiling at me beatifically as he cups my cheek.

"You deserve to love first. And desire second."

I smile but it's stiff and strained, wondering just how much longer I can keep the pain locked away, how many more smiles I have to hide the dull, constant throb of stiffness and agony curling up my spine.

Wanting nothing more than to sink into a bath and scour away the taint the week had left, save for Joon's touch. I wanted nothing more than to sink into the bed and muffle the pained slew of groans against the sheets. With him it was easy to forget the pain, easy to push it aside. But as he stands in front, preparing to leave... the pain creeps back, a dull flare at the base of my back.

I wanted Minnie. Wanted Jin's soothing touch.

And I wanted Joon to leave none the wiser. There was no reason to drag him into my mess or pain. It was easy to keep the pretence up as he left, a final kiss pressed to my lips and a squeeze to my hands before his fell away.

It's easy to let him go and smile, watching him slip away from a world he didn't need to be entangled in.

And when he leaves, I sink against the bed, hands kneading and massaging at my legs, eyes fluttering with exhaustion as I fall back onto a stripped mattress.

The door cracks open a slither before widening, a figure sliding in and crossing the distance quickly.

Face bare of any cosmetics and ointments Minnie looks younger like this. Softer and vulnerable. Sweeter and open.

His face creases with worry as he hovers.

"Namjoon just left... I hope that's the end of the shifts." He asks, teeth worrying his bottom lip anxiously.

I nod, the smile wobbling as I shut my eyes, tears of relief pricking at the corner of my eyes.

"Every filthy penny ready for Madame Lim. Joon made the last of the services... easier." I admit, a weary sigh escaping, breath shaky as I lift a hand to cover the wobble of my lips, to hide the way tears have begun to seep out from under shut eyelids, hot and thick as they seep down the side of my face.

"Oh sweetheart... why didn't you tell Joon then?" he murmurs quietly.

I sniffle, turning my head to the side to scrub at damp cheeks.

"As much as I hate this lifestyle. Hate being reduced to a price and to physical assets and how dominant or submissive in bed I'm paid to be... I don't know what else to be. I don't know what else I am. And I don't want Namjoon spending his money on me if I can't... give him anything. It makes me feel like I'm accepting charity. A hand-out." I say, voice aching and raw.

Everything crumbling and shattering, energy sapped now that Joon's gone. Now that there's no reason for pretence and no reason to convince both of us that I'm okay.

"(Y/N)... helping a friend out isn't charity. You know he'd have just as easily paid for a night of company just talking too. We both know that. I know it's hard to trust... but occasionally the world brings a good person into our life." Minnie begins, voice aching.

The bed dips and his hand cards lightly through my hair.

"And don't ever think all you're worth is your body. Ever." He adds, voice taking a hard intensity, crackling with fierce determination and pain.

"We're more than that. Don't let the world tell you otherwise." He adds.

Hand curling around me to help me up, fingers brushing the wetness from my cheeks, holding me steady against him when I burrow close.

Trying to muffle the painful cries against his shoulder, clutching at his loose top.

"Let's get you to Jin. Don't accept any appointments until you're healed." He insists.

Slowly drawing me up, guiding me to the nearest bathing chambers.

I hesitate at the door.

"I didn't have private appointments, I can't use it." I dither.

Knowing that the public bathhouses, the elaborate, luxurious building adjacent to the large estate was for that use, for daily use, for some of the more... risqué and particular-tastes for clients who liked the thrill of being caught, of being seen... of being desired upon.

"If I've made sure dear Mistress hag is occupied?" he prompts with a cheeky grin, cheeks puffing up.

Bowing grandly as he gestures to the furnished doors.

"Salts and oils and the finest masseuse await you my dear beautiful lady~" he croons, tugging the doors open.

The sight of Jin perched on the wide rim of the large tub, arms soaked and glistening greet me, a warm smile on his face that doesn't even begin to mask the simmering, brewing worry in his eyes as he helps me over.

Eyes dark and silently seething.

"And bed rest it seems." He grits once I've sunk into the bath waters, clutching at the rim to steady myself, legs locking slightly.

I shake my head.

"Just another week in my life." I joke weakly.

If possible the anger intensifies. Even with painstakingly gentle hands that coax my head back to rest against a rolled up towel.

"No... no life should be this merciless to the person." he whispers, voice incredibly soft, barely heard over the gentle slosh of water.

No life should be.

But we don't choose the life we're given.

We merely try survive in the one we're born into.

And even one day when my debts would be finally paid, even then I wouldn't be live without the taint... I'd live a part life.

And the eyes would still be the same.

Knowing of the brand I'd carried of my ownership.

It was whimsical and pure fantasy but if I had the means... if I had a way to, I'd have long since cleared the debt inked onto my skin, clear Minnie's and vanish with him. Start anew. Start in a place where the world didn't know us, where the odd commoner hadn't seen us being whored out.

But again... wistful fantastical dreams remained just that.

And melted into wisps too thin and delicate to grasp before we even began to reach for them.

-------

The hushes aren't new. It's the sign of interest. It's a sign that people know who you are and they can't help their murmurs. It comes with lingering gazes and wanton stares. It comes with envy and lust and greed.

It comes shrouded in sin, delicious and heady.

But this time the stares don't linger and the murmurs aren't for us.

This time there's a charged, vicious thrill crackling in the air, electric and bubbling stronger and thicker.

This time hands don't reach out to try grope or cop a feel, heads too intently bent over towards each other, secrets and scandals shared over tankards.

This time there's no obstacle blocking us as we pick our way to the front, hand clutching at my skirts and lifting them slightly, the cut of my dress more modest than what I usually wore but enough that the swells of my breasts still curved and trembled with every deep breath.

This time we make our way to the front of the tavern, slipping into seats and catching the attention of the owner; heart-shaped smile blooming wider and sweeter, brown eyes pools of molten warmth; liquid whiskey that burned and settled deliciously low in the gut.

Dark strands of hair fall forward, pushed away impatiently by slender fingers before his voice drawls, friendly and genuine.

It was rare to find a tavern owner who was ever genuine in their greetings or words. Uncaring and desensitised to the endless people who stream through in clustered piles.

"What can I get my two favourite vixens?" he croons, laughing when Minnie leans in the invitation, expression coy and batting his lashes as he taps his lips.

"Why whatever our beautiful sunshine is willing to concoct for us~ especially if it comes with details why it feels like the most delicious scandal has gotten out." Minnie croons, eyes twinkling.

His expression brightens, nodding, small dimples forming as he leans away momentarily, hands busying with making drinks, eyes gleaming with expectation when he slides forward two glasses, waiting for the first reaction.

The drink is sweet; bursting on my tongue with bright fruity notes, only the slightest warmth that pools as it slips down my throat, the alcohol light and bringing only the slightest buzz.

"I heard there's a man in disgrace. He's been put in the stocks and well... the public have been taking their sweet time with him." he confides, voice hushed, the grin on his face infectious.

I tilt my head.

"And what did said man do?" I prod. Finger circling the rim of the crystal glass, eyes sparkling with interest as I lean forward.

"Stole funds, embezzled the public, disgusting treatment to women... child abuse... oh honey the list is never ending." He drawls and there's not an inch of empathy... nothing but hardened disgust and revulsion and with his steady listing I feel my stomach tighten and twist into knots. Nausea threatening to churn the meagre contents, swallowing down the bile that inches up my throat.

I knock back the rest of the fruity liquor, sliding the glass forward.

"If you're going to speak of vermin Hoseokie darling, I'll need something stronger to stomach the filth." I grimace.

He nods, tugging the glass free and calling over his shoulder for the other owner to bring one of the stronger rums.

The inked hand that curls forward for my glass is accompanied with an ever disarmingly sweet smile, wavy strands falling forward as he uncorks it deftly with a thumb, pouring a generous amount.

"We don't want a tipsy mess though (Y/N) so don't chug this one down." He teases before sliding the glass back and silently reaching for Minnie's with a knowing look, serving him too.

I raise my glass towards him in toast, winking playfully.

"I'll try Kook, but we both know I'd be lightweight for those arms." I marvel, eyeing the muscled strength straining the fabric, enjoying the slight pink before he gives a small scrunch of his nose.

The gesture boyishly sweet and endearing. It's almost hard to imagine him in the background of the tavern, but he enjoyed making his own whiskeys, enjoyed working with a friend and definitely had the strength to easily manhandle stragglers of troublemakers. He fit. In this place, warm with glowing lanterns and the rich browns of the wood he fits.

"Still... as light of a slip you are, easily manhandled... it's just not my particular taste." He remarks lightly, a bubble of laughter at the incredulous look I shoot at his teasing before my own face morphs into something lighter.

"You've not visited for a while." Hobi remarks, gaze curious and light.

Silently Minnie's hand drops to my thigh, hand hidden in the skirts as he squeezes gently, grounding and reassuring.

"I was on ordered bed rest by your pretty lover." I say, gulping down a large sip, eyes fluttering at the much stronger burn of it sliding down my throat.

His eyes flicker, darkening and pain searing across his face.

"That bad? That it made Jin push for complete rest? Are you sure you're ready to be out and about then...?" He presses, concern glimmering in soft brown irises.

I nod.

"She's got me. And besides... even the most ornate and luxurious cages are at the end of it all... still a cage. Still a prison. It's stifling being there." Minnie grimaces, jaw clenching tightly. 

Kook nods, nudging the apology already brimming at Hobi's lips. Knowing that it wasn't what either of us wanted to hear.

Instead he cocks his head, lips pressed in thought.

"So why don't you make the most of your outing? Buy some pretty trinkets, visit the baker for fresh bread... visit Namjoon at his apothecary, or the pretty pianist in one of the finer establishments." He suggests, eyes gleaming with softness towards the end. 

"Oh? The pretty pianist... the one you specifically gifted that fine whiskey to?" Minnie remarks, watching as his mouth opens and then shuts and settles on a halfhearted glare.

"What of it?"

"Nothing... nothing. Did you like the private performance afterwards?" He presses.

Relishing in making Kook flustered.

But though his cheeks burn slightly, his eyes burn defiantly. 

"None of your business. My private performance will stay that way... private." He insists 

I coo.

"As it should, a real gent never tells Mimi. You're just used to everyone else spilling." I rebuke. Shaking my head at Hobi's offer to top up my glass.

Tilting my head at Kookie.

"He's right. We'll make an outing. And I can't be tipsy for that." I echo.

And when I slide the coins forward. Hobi's hand settles on mine, eyes serious and voice soft.

"Next time you get forced into such an appointment. Castrate the man and cut your losses." Voice silken smooth but shrouded with vicious fierce anger.

And I know Jin must've mentioned it at least in passing.

But then his eyes soften fractionally.

"Or leave that to us."

And the ache it brings is one that makes my heart feel heavy and light simultaneously.

Because in his words are the promise of protection. Is the easily extended promise of avenging my hurts.

And the smile that tugs at my lips is genuine and not one inkling of it is forced.

TAE POV:

"He hardly looks recognisable. If it wasn't the fact he was dragged out in his prayer robes you'd never know." I muse, eyeing the exhausted man slumped in the stocks, the earlier insistence that he was a messenger of God, that harming and humiliating a man of faith would bring wrath on us had fallen into silence, eyes weary and tired. 

But he hadn't been granted the mercy of sleep for the past few days.

He hadn't been deigned the right to rest when he had the whole town's jeers and angry remarks to hear.

"What holy man ruts like swine in women's bodies?" One man yells, voice crackling with anger and eyes burning with an intoxicated rage. The weight of the rotten fruit in his hand lightly debated before he flung it at him. Teeth bared in triumph when it splattered across the side of his face, adding to the mess already clinging to him.

"The same that steals the charity we give to the church and uses to fund his sins. We've let someone preach about goodness and morality... we've let the devil turn the church into desecrated ground and lead our prayers." A woman calls, her eyes wide with horror and her lips curved into a snarl, the fine drapes of her skirts and bejewelled throat giving away her status.

But today like the previous two day days, status and wealth has been forgotten in the shared rage of the town, at seeing the fall of a man once raised high by the pedestal they collectively crafted for him.

Besides me, Jin's body is taut and thrumming with vicious pleasure, anger still swirling in the depths of his eyes, arms crossed as he watches as the pastor is pelted, a rain of moulding produce hurled at him, profanities and curses raining on the slumped figure whose face is marvellously bruised, marked with a smatter of hues and colours, with cuts dried and undoubtedly infected by now.

His tattered prayer robes fare no better.

"Even this... even this doesn't feel enough. Not for what he did. Monster." He grits out. 

My hand moves to his shoulder, grounding and squeezing firmly. Drawing his attention away from the scene and towards me.

"We did what we could. We brought it all out. Let the town give him his fate now." I say quietly.

But the tightness to his jaw doesn't loosen, eyes drifting over me in a way that feels penetrative and searching; silently examining.

"Tell me something Tae. Indulge me. But you only helped me because of the bounty promised. You only got yourself involved because of the riches your fingers would sink into. Nothing more right?" He asks.

It doesn't take a moment of thought or hesitation.

Nodding easily as I shrug, shoulders loose.

"Of course." And I watch something akin to disappointment flash across his face, brief and fleeting.

My hand tightens around his shoulder.

Bracing myself for the next words that come out.

"But... by making this... woman bear the brunt of my loot. That wasn't fair. And if I make a mistake I need to fix it too. It's a debt I had to repay." I say softly, embarrassed at the way his eyes gleam and features soften, curving up in the smallest smile.

My hand falls away and his softer countenance has a knot loosening around my lungs. There had been something heavy and angry brewing for the past week inside him, fuelled only every time he saw me, as if he was tolerating my presence.

So his lighter, usual expression has me breathing a sigh of relief.

But then his hand clamps around my wrist, drawing it off his shoulder.

Voice firm and unrelenting.

"It's a debt I have every intention of making you pay. To the last penny Taehyung-ah." 

I nod.

"I will." 

Because I hated the weight of the burden, hated the shackles it brought. Hated that I now owed her something because Jin knew her. And that brought forward the real ugly truth that I'd not taken from an entitled lady who I'd mocked and moved on from. But I'd taken from someone faring in a much harsher life.

And I'd thrown it at her face.

I hated the way her plea, shaky and imploring, rang in my ears and how the bruises marring her throat, a collar, how the purple peeking out from under the hem of soft lacy drawers... how I'd seen them and told her she adorned ownership well.

The thought was nauseating as I saw the man, on his knees, face bruised and one eye swollen shut, flinching away from every accusation flung out at him for the world to hear. Several women with anger and resentment, voices low and threatening that it was what men like him deserved for treating a body as an object. What he deserved for leeching off the town to pour every penny into buying himself pleasure, the depravity of hitting children who worked at the church, who sung or who came with burdened hearts to confess.

He wasn't a man. He was too far gone from what that meant.

And in front of me I saw a man who abused and preyed on the vulnerability of women and children, who morphed them to his will.

He was sickening.

And somewhere along the lines I'd called the woman his plaything, without realising, I'd told her to wear her lust well.

When it was never hers to begin with.

I'd called her a sin. I'd called her very being a sin, her lust, her marks, her lies, her pretty trinkets.

And that nausea threatened to rear its head.

I tug myself free, lips curling as I push those thoughts aside.

"Do excuse me Jin, I have a pastor I'd like to pay my regards to." Dipping my head in a small bow, eyes flashing as I stalk forward towards the ruined mess of a person.

There was a person who deserved that writhing anger curling around my gut, deserved the poison seeping through my blood and the roaring rage that echoed in my ears to dry drown out a soft, shaky plea that played in loops.

And when I step close enough, for once the glittering jewellery and the rich quality of my clothes, uncaring of the spittle and blood that splashes across the cream cuff when I grip his face, hazy eyes blinking at me. The stench of his waste makes my throat tighten but I lean in.

"You dragged me into a mess. And all because the real whore was you." I grit. Knowing that his penniless, disgraced state was a

Whore.

Sin.

Lust.

How many labels had I thrown at her?

How many debts did I need to repay?

I easily step aside when the jeers grow louder, when the flying splatter of produce lands on my boots, stains the hem of my jacket.

Step aside and grimace, wiping my hand clean; uncaring for how it stains the fabric, clean hand pushing my hair back.

I step aside and melt back into the shadows and cluster of the crowd, searching out Jin.

But my body stills, feet coming to a standstill a short distance away.

Because I spot Jin.

But I also spot two figures beside him.

Eyes wide with disbelief staring at the sight of the curvy woman standing beside him, face peeking out from under the wide hood of her cloak, hair loose and tumbling down around a generous neckline. She looks infinitely different yet the same, face bar of the heavy coat of cosmetics, lips a natural deep rosy hue that press tightly now, whitening.

There's fear and disgust and hurt clawing at her face, her body unconsciously pressing back against the barrier that Jin and the other man form, her face shuttering.

Jin's head bends down slightly, murmuring something that's swallowed by the loud murmurs of the ever growing crowd, her face covered slightly by his, trying to draw her back.

But she remains resolute.

Unable to tear her eyes away from the sight, throat bobbing as she swallows heavily, lips trembling as she speaks.

Jin's head shakes, hand curling around her forearm to draw her back but she moves against it, moves forward as if tugged to the sight of the man's pitiful state, carefully leaning forward.

There's no way the pastor spots her. No way that Lee can distinguish her face from amongst the crowd, men and women silently moving aside; flickering gazes that linger, that are drawn to her neckline, to the slender curve of her throat, to the painful glittering tears that shine in her eyes, splashing against flushed cheeks.

Her lips part but no sound comes out, no words.

And as she looks at Lee her body's stiffness seems to ebb away, slowly unfurling from around locked limbs, shoulders loosening, spine slumping and a noticeable weight seeming to lift off her burdened body.

I watch as her hand rises, appearing from the folds of her cloak and skirts to flutter unconsciously towards her throat, trembling fingers stilling against her skin, tears trickling down and rage burning in her eyes; a searing inferno that condemns Lee, that damns him.

Watch the storm brewing inside her, watch her uncaring of every single pair of eyes that drift to her, that are captured by the allure, the intoxicating beauty that radiates out even in her fury. And the second man follows, face equally devastating with sharp ethereality, full lips brushing across the shell of her ear, eyes flinty as he stares down the others and tugs her away from the crowd, tugs her back to him and Jin, the three of them slipping away, moving away from the bustle.

And my feet unstick, body moving forward and weaving through the crowd after them.

I hurry to catch up, pulse quickening and heart thrumming anxiously.

Yet when I catch up to them, hand whipping out to clutch Jin's sleeve I don't know what it is to expect.

Don't know what I'd been expecting when he stills and turns; face flickering through a myriad of expressions before setting on wariness, tugging the woman away from my line of sight.

But past the glassy anger in her eyes, she pauses to look at me.

Confusion flitting across her face as she eyes me, gaze drifting over me in silent examination.

Jin's jaw tightens; eyes demanding furiously.

I don't even know whether she'll recognise me, whether she'll realise who's standing in front of her, because the mask had hidden my face before.

I watch her eyes settle on my clothes, on the jewels glinting in my ears and adorning my hands, watch as uncertainty crosses her face.

The man behind her glares; silently daring, body angled to push her behind him.

"Jin who's this?" he asks, voice soft and smooth. Deceptively light and airy.

But I answer for him.

Head dipping, lips curving up. Palms sweaty and heart racing; the rushed heartbeat echoing in my ears, I look at her and hear her plea, hear her shaky voice trembling, remember how she'd gone still under my touch, under the blade kissing the soft delicate skin of her throat.

My mouth opens but the woman speaks.

Voice hardened and hostile.

"The bandit. It's you... the bandit." She surmises.

She steps out from behind the angled bodies of the two men flanking her protectively.

The silence of the man becomes stifling, suffocating and thick; bristling with venomous rage.

"I'm..." I begin.

"A thief. You robbed me of his payment." She says, voice trembling with barely restrained anger, head tilting back towards the crowd, the movement dislodging the large hood over her head, falling away to reveal intricately pressed loose curls, lips twisting with disdain.

It's a new look.

A refreshing new memory to replace the pain and fear.

I'd rather burn her in my mind like this. Fiery and furious.

Raging and seething.

Anything's better than the ache her words had left, a new meaning that had left them to curl through my mind with an agonised sear. 

Why did she have to be one of the helpless? Why had she been in that carriage that day?

Why did it have to be someone whose truth and pain had made my gut twist uncomfortably?

Why was it so easy to fall silent in front of her anger?

She steps away when I move forward, lips twisting into a grimace when I open my mouth to speak.

Suddenly I feel small. Feel worth less than the filth that the streets fill with, feel dirtier than the dirt that soils the sole of her shoes, that she lifts her skirts to avoid.

I've become the worthless filth that not even the jewels and coins jingling in my pocket can somehow lift me out of.

"If I could just have a moment to..." I begin helplessly.

To...

To what?

Apologise? Grovel? Beg for a chance to ease this growing weight on my chest?

A moment to what? Seek pardon for the words I'd flung at her? Or apologise for the situation she was caught in?

Apologise that she wasn't a socialite I'd robbed.

Apologise for robbing her at all.

A moment for what?

She sneers.

Anger gleaming across the sharp curve of her lips and the flintiness in her eyes, her beauty imposing and forceful, suffocating and demanding.

"Oh I do beg pardon dirty thief. But you may well be unaware... but my time is money. And I do not squander it freely on filth." She snaps.

Words trembling.

But there's fear and wariness pooling in her eyes, a vulnerability she doesn't dare let creep into her tone.

Like this her voice is imbued with rage and authority, a far, far cry from that day in the carriage, her body shrinking back, the bravery and insistence to protect herself and her payment when she'd tossed the jug slipping away when she'd noticed the weapons adorning my waist.

Even now her eyes drop to my waist, jaw clenching at the ornate pistol tucked away and the handle of a dagger.

Even now as she speaks she drags me further through the dirt, soils and smears the filth of my words and deeds over me.

And though I'd called her a whore to Jin, called her slave to her desires and the man who bestowed them on her... I feel like the dirtied, tainted one.

That I'm not above her but below her.

And her company comes from a price.

The disdainful look of contempt she gives to my clothes and jewellery clearly shows that they're not price enough.

That I can't afford her company, can't afford the time to talk to her and apologise.

And it's a dismissal when she steps away, turning from me, skirts brushing around her, hood tucked back over.

Her eyes soften as they land on Jin, leaning to murmur something, a small squeeze to his forearm before she tugs the man beside her away.

But my eyes track her as she moves to vanish from sight, tracking the sight of full skirts and her hood, the image of her anger seared over my mind.

And shame sweeps in large waves.

"A debt like that can take forever Tae."

And the words make the chains tighten, weighting me down.

-------

"This is a bad idea Tae." Jin hisses when he spots me walking through the large halls, hand a clamp as he tugs me away from the centre of the bustle and noise.

I tug my hand away, glaring at him.

"She said her time was money. And I need to begin making amends." I retort, the sack of coins jingling in my pockets.

His eyes burn fire as he stares me down.

Hissing angrily.

"And you think paying her at a pleasure den is the way to go about amicability? Tae are you insane?" he growls out.

I shrug.

"Maybe. But how else would she accept money for her company? I need to... at least begin to make things right." I say helplessly.

His face turns stony.

"And turning up paying for the pleasure of her time is the way to go? That it'll make anything better? When you've called her a whore? When you assumed she spread her legs for a pretty price? Do you know how much more is taken? How much... how much it costs her mind to... Tae you know nothing about this place." He bites out. 

I didn't know. Didn't know how much a place could leech the life and personality out of someone. And even know the drifting sounds of cries and moans sounded brittle; sounded fragile and ready to shatter, one thrust away from crumbling and dissolving into a plea for it to end.

I didn't know whether turning up was a fool's gamble or whether she'd actually even deign me a moment of her time.

I had nothing to lose by trying.

And yet everything was on the line.

She could reject me, drag me through the mud and humiliate me further.

She could make those feelings worsen.

"I'm playing by her terms. If she says no I'll leave." I concede.

But before his hand falls away, my own darts out.

Eyes scanning the hall for any straggler, for any person who could overhear.

"But... the very least she deserves is the money back that I stole. The money she slaved over earning back. That she put her body on the line for. And at the very least I will give her that back." I insist.

The protective anger retreats somewhat.

Looking appeased in the slightest.

"She does deserve that. Just.. don't dig yourself a bigger hole. Don't make me choose a side."

I nod.

And move forward towards the heart of the large estate, eyes drifting over the workers curled up on chaises or draped over a potential customer, see the bubbling laughter mingle with lust, see eyes sizing each other up.

Move past interested eyes and greedy gazes that drift over me.

Moving towards a figure who I presume is one of the head's of the establishment. Her gaze cutting and detached, observant.

Her eyes examine me as I step close.

"A new customer?" voice soft and lofty.

I nod.

"Although I come with a particular preference. Just the one person."

Her lips curve.

"And what pretty doll of ours do you have a taste of? Private hirings are naturally more costly." She adds.

I nod.

"Whatever the price, I'm willing to pay. But I want your best. I want the pretty woman.     (Y/N)." I say confidently.

Her eyes gleam.

"Ah? Our little bird?" 

(Y/N). I'd heard her name from the others but had never verbalised it.

(Y/N). Little bird. 

The very label sounded wrong. Because her lilting soft voice was anything but gentle and subdued; anything but a soft, sweet trill that melted into silence. It was a voice that lingered and haunted. She wasn't a fragile bird. That I already knew. Could say with confidence.

(Y/N).

I wanted her time. Wanted to pay for it so I could make things right.

I just hoped that this time I'd get the chance to apologise.

"She costs more than a pretty penny." She tests again.

I don't hesitate to tug out a sack of coins, dangling it in front of her. As predicted, her eyes drift to fix on the sight, hunger coating her features distastefully.

Reaching her hand out for it when I move it back.

"I want to see her now."

And greedily her fingers chase for the sack, nodding.

"Of course you can sir. She's in the bathhouse."

(THERE WE GO! THIRD CHAPTER... I THINK?? INDEED IT IS! AND!! HOW'D YOU FIND IT? FINALLY TAE AND (Y/N) HAVE MET AND SHE REALLY FLUNG IT BACK AT HIM... YOU GOTTA EARN FORGIVENESS TAE! AND~ THOUGHTS? Midiiplier I HOPE THAT THE ANTICIPATION AND WAIT REALLY DOES IT MAKE IT A WORTHWHILE SURPRISE! GAHHH! I'M SO NERVOUS TO SEE WHAT YOU THOUGHT! AND NEXT CHAPTER!! BATHHOUSE IS ALL YOU'RE GETTING OUT OF ME~ BUT I HAVE STUFF PLANNED!! LET ME KNOW YOUR THOUGHTS AND ENJOY!)

Borahae! 💜💜💜

PurpleQueenie <3