SEVEN

"You really move around a lot, don't you?" I say blankly as I look at the wide bed. This one seemed even bigger than the one back in the South, and I didn't think that was supposed to be possible.

"Wait till you see where he sleeps in the Assassin Headquarters!" Jungkook pipes up from the back, making Jimin sigh as he pushes the boy back out.

I jump, landing on the bed with my feet. Then I sneak a look in his direction— because this always pissed him off.

But he doesn't even show a reaction.

I smile widely, stretching myself out. "Jimin— you've warmed up to me, huh?"

"What are you talking about." He says sharply, noticing me smile. He tosses his jacket to the side. "Move over."

"There's so much space, look." I say, raising an eyebrow. I was barely taking up one fourth of the entire space— what, did he really need that much of the bed?

I'm waving my hand at all the empty space when he suddenly lifts me up, an annoyed expression on his face. Then he just drops me off at the very edge.

I sigh.

"Jimin. I've slept with you before. You're just going to push me off the bed again like last time or something."

"I'm doing this because I don't want to do that." He says, not looking at me as he takes his place at the very opposite end of the mattress.

When I start to smile again, he shoots me a glare.

"Don't think I'm implying anything. I'd die first before I would warm up to your dumb face."

I frown.

"Your face is dumber than mine."

"Shut up." He mumbles, voice muffled underneath the covers he'd pulled over himself. "I'm trying to sleep."

__________________________

I wake up, because someone's hit me in the face.

"Jimin!" I hiss sleepily, sitting up on the bed. He'd somehow moved from all the way to the right to where I was, and then he'd hit me right in the face with his arm.

For a second I stare hard at him, thinking he might be playing with me.

But he seems asleep.

"I'll forgive you this time." I mumble to myself, dropping back down to the pillow. I close my eyes again, trying to get back to the dream I was having.

But then I hear him groan. I just brush it off as nothing when something drops on top of my stomach, making my eyes shoot back open.

His arm.

I'm gonna cut it off.

I'm staring daggers at him when he suddenly moves even closer, something like a low whine escaping his parted lips. The side of his body presses against mine, and I freeze up like a statue.

He smells like shampoo.

What the hell. I say to myself, crossing my fingers. Then a devilish smile splits my face, and I close my eyes back again.

Eyes still closed, I bend my arm into a soft ninety degree angle and drop the elbow right on his forehead.

I don't need to see what happens next to know that his eyes have shot open.

"Seven!" He gasps, voice full of anger. I really can't help the smirking smile that tugs on my lips next, and I'm about to slit my eyes open when a pillow crashes down on my head.

The smirk turns to a frown.

"Jimin— did you just hit me with a pillow?" I hiss, sitting up now. He's glaring at me, arms crossed over his chest as he bites down on his lip.

"You hit me in the face."

"Well. You're the one who hit me in the face and the stomach first!" I argue back, and his expression gets defensive. He fists the blankets, silver eyes narrowing in my direction.

"And I told you I move around a lot."

"Well, how was I supposed to react—" I'm about to shoot back at him when the door suddenly crashes open, showing blue hair and a frustrated face.

"Taehyung?"

"Jungkook can't sleep because of you guys." He groans, rubbing at his face with his sleeves. "And neither can I. What's the problem?"

"She hit me in the face."

"He hit me first!"

Taehyung tugs on his lip with his teeth, raising an eyebrow in our direction as we go back to staring daggers at each other. Then he sighs.

"Seven, come out."

I look up, kind of taken aback. But then Jimin pulls at my wrist when I start to stand up, tugging me back down. He stares at Taehyung.

"Why?"

"She can't obviously stay here, you guys are just going to keep fighting all night." Taehyung says, running his fingers through his blue locks. "She can sleep in my room."

"No."

Jimin says firmly, his face setting before his eyes widen a bit. Then he notices me holding back another smile, and all of his features squeeze into a frown.

"I can't let you go near Tae." He shoots at me, and I sigh loudly.

"That again?! Park Jimin, I swear—"

"Just don't wake up Yoongi hyung." Taehyung says, with a serious expression on his face. "Then we're actually screwed. All of us. Okay?"

He leaves after that, the door closing softly behind him.

"Jimin." I say, whipping around to look at him. He winces, getting that leave me alone look again when he meets eyes with me. "Tell me, honest."

"You have warmed up to me, huh?"

"There's a bug behind you." He says flatly, and I instantly duck down underneath the sheets. I was certain he was lying, but I didn't want to take a single chance.

He laughs.

__________________________

"Hyung, I'm not sure if we can afford getting drunk— we have to move back to the Headquarters tomorrow."

"Relax." Jin laughs, shaking a long glass bottle of alcohol. "We won't get drunk, Jungkook."

Jungkook chews on his lip. "Yeah— I don't want to have to drag all of you to bed again."

Yoongi's already pouring himself a second glass, looking kind of red in the cheeks. He clinks glasses with a tipsy Hoseok, who's laughing randomly every five seconds.

"Can I have some?" I pipe up, and Jin raises his eyebrow.

"How old are—"

"Don't, hyung. She probably has lower tolerance than a turtle." Jimin interrupts from the side, and I fix a glare in his direction.

"Yeah? And I bet you can't even finish a single cup."

"Fighting every single second." Jin sighs, and we both fall silent, still staring daggers at each other. "How old are you again, Seven?"

"Old enough." I confirm, trying to keep from attacking Jimin when he makes a disbelieving noise.

Taking the glass Jin hands me, I aim a smirk towards him.

"I bet I can drink more than you, Chim."

"Call me that again and I'll run a knife through your throat." He snarls, his hand tightening around his own cup. "And what did you just say? Is that a challenge?"

"I'm just saying that I can." I say flippantly, a devilish smile growing on my face when I see him getting angry.

He grabs a bottle, and so do I.

"I'm looking forward to watching you make a fool of yourself." He growls, and I press my lips together.

I toss my head, walking towards the kitchen— away from the rest of the assassins. He gets me, and stands up with his cheeks still blushed with annoyance.

"I'm not going to do that. You are, though."