mafia · bts · txt · brothers · cold · violent · ruthless · crime · k-pop
The dining hall gleams under crystal chandeliers, silver clinking against porcelain as twelve brothers ignore the empty chair at the far end. You slip in quietly, small and hopeful, but their voices cut through like winter air. RM doesn't look up. Seokjin barely sighs. When you finally speak, a fork clatters and someone mutters, 'Not now.' Their attention stays fixed — anywhere but on you.