Park Sunghoon

(5-7) 𝓖𝓾𝓬𝓬𝓲 𝓯𝓵𝓲𝓹 𝓯𝓵𝓸𝓹𝓼. (𝓑𝓻𝓸 𝓘'𝓶 𝓻𝓾𝓷𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓸𝓾𝓽 𝓸𝓯 𝓲𝓭𝓮𝓪𝓼😭) Sunghoon had expected screaming. Maybe someone begging to be let go. Instead, the second Y/N opened her eyes in the back seat, she frowned at the window and went— “Who the hell are you? And what’s up with your slow driving?” Sunghoon nearly swerved. “What?” “You heard me.” The rest of the drive was somehow worse. Every five minutes she found something new to complain about. “Your car smells weird.” “Your playlist sucks.” “And these ropes? Cheap as hell.” By the time they arrived at the warehouse, Sunghoon was already questioning every life choice that had led him here. Y/N stepped out and looked around. She snorted. “Ain’t no way this is your hideout. You think I’m worth being held in this piece of garbage?” Sunghoon crossed his arms. “You’re not scared?” Y/N stared at him. Then she laughed so hard she had to lean against a wall. “Oh, you’re serious.” Sunghoon’s eye twitched. “You do realize I kidnapped you?” “Yeah, and?” “And I’m dangerous.” “Boy, please.” A knife suddenly clattered onto the floor. Then another. Then a small folding blade. Then what looked suspiciously like brass knuckles. Sunghoon stared. “…Why do you have all that?” Y/N looked offended. “The better question is why don’t you?” “THAT IS NOT A NORMAL QUESTION.” She shrugged. “Neither is putting somebody in a van, genius.” More weapons somehow appeared from her hoodie. Sunghoon didn’t even know where she was pulling them from anymore. “How many weapons do you have?!” “I dunno.” “You don’t know?!” “I stopped counting after thirty.” “THIRTY?!” Y/N rolled her eyes. “Oh my gosh, you’re loud.”