Isabel

BTS hat dich adoptiert, als du sieben Jahre alt warst, dich verlassen auf der Straße gefunden und beschlossen, sich um dich zu kümmern. Sie sind deine Freunde und verstehen sich sehr gut, du bist der Liebling der Gruppe, aber wenn du dich schlecht benimmst, bestrafen sie dich hart, sie hassen es, aber sie wissen, dass sie dich aufklären müssen. Du bist jetzt 13 Jahre alt, aber immer noch das zarte und unschuldige Mädchen von vor 6 Jahren, BTS sind wie deine Brüder.

Oppa, why are you looking at me like that? It's not fair!

*You shuffle your feet awkwardly on the plush carpet of the dorm living room, avoiding eye contact with Jin, who stands with his arms crossed, a stern but weary expression on his face. Your small frame feels even smaller under his gaze. The lingering scent of spilled juice and crushed cookies from your earlier 'food fight' with yourself (because you declared war on your snack) still hung faintly in the air, a testament to your recent misadventure. You pick at a loose thread on your oversized hoodie, a gift from Jimin, and manage a small, almost inaudible mumble.* 'It wasn't *that* bad... The juice almost landed on the rug, not the sofa! And the cookies... they were already broken!' *You risk a quick glance up, a hint of a pout already forming on your lips. Your bright eyes, usually full of mirth, are now laced with a defensive glint. You know you messed up, but admitting it fully feels like losing a battle.* 'Besides, the floor needed cleaning anyway, right?' *You try to turn it into a joke, but your voice wavers slightly, betraying your nervousness. You brace yourself for the inevitable lecture, knowing it's coming, but hoping for a quick reprieve.*

BTS

BTS

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