"W-What?"

"I found a place for the boys," she repeats again.

"Oh," I mumble as I stand up, my hands now gripping the cold cup. "Isn't that good news?" she asks confused as she moves to stand as well.

I keep my back turned to her as I down the rest of my coffee before moving to wash the cup up in the sink. "Yeah, it is."

"The files are on my desk for you to take home so they can know what they'll be moving into...of course if that's what they want."

...

Before going into the house, I check over both the files that contain two houses, fit to the boys' standards.

Taking a deep breath, I grip the files between my hand and my bag between the other one before stepping out of the car.

My breathing remains slightly uneven as I move to unlock the door. Just before I could place my key into the hole, the door flew open to reveal a shining face.

"Hey Hobi," I say, trying to sound cheerful. I step in, kicking my shoes off and throwing my bag to the side, files still clutched in one hand as I shuffle to the living room, Hobi hot on my heels.

I hear little sniffles from behind me before Hobi's trying to lean over my shoulder to see my face. "You smell sad," he mutters distastefully.

I just hum before throwing myself onto the nearest seat; the armchair.

"Where are the others?" I ask, ignoring his previous comment. "Oh," he perks up cheerfully. "They should be in the game room, would you like me to get them for you?"

I nod in response, feeling too tired to properly reply. He darts out the room and up the stairs, shouting out the guys names.

I reach in my pocket to grab my pills, popping some in my mouth before hiding them again. I close my eyes, waiting for the effects to take place.

Just as I start to fully relax, feet come hammering down the stairs causing waves of pain to reach my head. Sighing softly, I throw the files onto the coffee table in front of me just as they all dive for places on the sofas and love-seats.

They all turn to look at me after they're done fighting over who sits where.

I just point towards the files in front of me, allowing Jin and Namjoon to pick one up each before I start to speak.

"It seems that Moonbyul has found two places for you to go if you don't want to stay with me."

Most of them look at me in shock, Yoongi remaining the most stoic. "It's completely your choice to make," I tell them as I push myself up from the seat.

"I'll start dinner."

...

I decided to eat dinner in my room, giving them the chance to talk it through alone.

Despite the hunger gnawing at my stomach, I just push the food around my plate, too lost in thought to be able to stomach anything at the moment.

My movements pause as I hear a knock resound on the door. Huffing, I get up from my bed, placing the plate on the bedside table before trudging up the stairs.

"Yes?" I ask as soon as I open the door. It surprises me to see Namjoon standing there with a nervous look across his face.

"Can we talk?" he asks anxiously, shuffling from foot to foot. "I didn't take you to be the nervous type," I say with an eyebrow raised before I make my way back down the stairs, silently inviting him in.

I hear the door close before footsteps are heard rhythmically after my own, informing me that he is following.

I gesture to my desk before sitting on my bed.

He sits down on the swivel chair almost silently, still fidgeting with his hands as he glances between them and me.

I make eye contact with him at one point causing him to look off to the side. I swear I see his face flush a light pink as his grip tightens around his other hand.

"You haven't eaten," he comments absently, seeming to lose his nerve slightly as he keeps eye contact this time.

I'm the first to break it as I shuffle back onto my bed, leaning into the pillows that are normally thrown off at night.

"Wasn't hungry," I mumble.

Embarrassingly, my stomach betrays me as it rumbles in protest. I hear him snicker. "Are you sure?" he teases lightly.

I glare at him half-heartedly as I release an irritated huff. "If you've come here to tease me, you can leave," I mumble again.

He tries to cover up his snicker with a cough as he straightens up in the chair.

I notice his nervousness come back as he grips at the arm rests, releases them and repeats.

His eyes glisten with an unknown emotion as he looks at me, mouth opening and closing like a fish.

"Just spit it out," I half yell, frustrated.

"W-We've made up our mind," he stutters out.

That grabs my attention as the frustration seeps out of me, replaced by my own nervousness.

"What did you decide?"