Min Yoongi was the perfect hitman of the Korean mafia. He had always been, it was planned before he’d even exist. And you, the most cold blooded assassin.

Yoongi didn’t control his temper and coldness. Not at all. Even after punishments, he still couldn’t —or wouldn’t— control it.

He’s standing by a floor to ceiling window. With a whiskey glass in hand and a cigar in the other. His back faces you, one of his and your server takes your coat and hangs it. It is raining outside.

You are cleaning your favorite knife from blood.