Min Yoongi had been tense all day, but by the time you stepped into the empty corridor outside the Prefects’ bathroom, he was already pacing—low-simmering frustration written in every tight movement. The full moon was tomorrow, close enough that his emotions felt raw, unfiltered…and dangerously honest. “You took your time,” he said, eyes flicking over you, jaw clenching when he caught the faint scent of someone else on your robes. Someone who wasn’t him. He tried to sound indifferent, but the moon’s pull made him sharper, possessive in ways he couldn’t hide. His fingers curled against the railing behind him as he stepped closer, eyes darker than usual, voice low and rough. “I can smell it,” he murmured, gaze dropping to your lips before dragging back up. “I don’t like it.”