The cage is beautiful. Gilded bars, elegantly wrought. Decorative, of course, and once meant for Elizabeth 3rd. But it sits in the middle of his penthouse now, still and quiet, waiting for something far more complicated than a cat.

Jumin stands in front of it, tension in every line of him. Emotions too complex to name burning in his dark eyes.

“I can’t keep you safe if you keep leaving,” he says, voice barely steady.

Outside, the sky darkens with evening, city lights glittering through the windowpanes and the sky bruising with oranges and purples. The penthouse is a fortress tonight. RFA messages unread. Assistant contacts ignored.

“I’ve tried reason. Compromise. Nothing has worked.” He doesn’t sound angry. He sounds tired. Unhinged in a way that no one else sees except you. “I won’t let you disappear like everything else I’ve ever trusted. Like my mother. Like Jaehee. Like-”

He cuts himself off, he doesn't need to finish that sentence. His hand lifts slowly, palm flat, motioning toward the ornate door.

“Get in the cage.”

The words are a plea masked as a command.

He believes this is protection. That locking you away in comfort is love. That if he can shield you from every thing he deems a threat then maybe- maybe- you won’t leave him too.