Warning: Mentions of ✨prostitution✨ , drug/alcohol use, suicidal idealization
The tags are a lot more intense than the chapter is. Nothing explicit happens, and everything that’s mentioned is fairly vague. It’s just the intention that’s important
If any of these topics make you uncomfortable, skip to the break between the two sections and after that it’s just talking about Hyunjin’s situation. But I would also recommend scrolling up a few sentences from the break to the part Seungmin calls Hyunjin, because they’re wholesome
In this world, only the strongest stay alive.
The elevator reeked of alcohol. Like cheap gin, burnt vanilla and smoldering tabacco bundled up inside of his nose until the scent became branded on his skin. The mirror behind him were always tinted a slight green-ish grey, washing him of his tone. The carpet beneath his sneakers was freshly replaced too. Scarlet threads woven together with pitiful black and gold, he was certain they had recently been cleaned too. Within the last few days? Sure… Sure, he remembers a bloodstain smeared in the fabric that wasn’t there anymore the longer he tried to find the disruption in the pattern.
With a gentle ding, the elevator’s doors slid open. He tightened his grip on his backpack. Stepping through the threshold into the shallow hallway. The top floor of the hotel. An indescribable silence to that floor only disrupted by his own breath and a jazz tune he didn’t recognize slipping from underneath the cracks of a doorway in front of him. The single door, a plant propped up by its side. The elegant and smooth wallpaper had that same intoxicating scent to it. He doubted, even if he kicked, he writhed, he gnashed his teeth and bit into the paper with his fangs, he was sure he would never find the source of that stench. He would never find why it clung so tightly to his body, so disgustingly to his skin.
With a heavy breath calming his nerves, Hyunjin keyed in a string of numbers to the pin pad and scanned his fingerprint on the door’s sensor. The lock clicking as it told him he was allowed to step in. He was allowed into the wolf’s den.
The strongest stay at the top and the others fall in neatly behind.
The room was needlessly extravagant. Or, perfectly extravagant. To flex an absurd amount of wealth on those that came to visit where he sat upon a gilded throne, a Lord at the top of his own little world. The golden stripes of an art-deco pattern that covered his obsidian swirling walls clean enough for Hyunjin to see his own reflection gazing back at him from the marble top; The minimalistic lighting fixtures hung in the center, an odd pattern that wouldn’t decide if it wished to be chandelier or not, yet still radiated it’s rich, warm glow over the room; The carpet made up of scarlet, more of those art-deco patterns woven with golden lines, but flourishing designs that bled into flower petals toward the center of the room; Two couches, both black, faced toward one another, adorned with golden and scarlet pillows; A glass table between them.
That smell was overwhelming in this room. It always had been, until it nauseated Hyunjin. Until his nose had grown blind to it’s foul stench. Whether willingly, or from his own stubbornness. Maybe, it was simply bitterness. Anger, for the black Shepard laid by the side of the couch, perfectly alert with his ears tipped forward as it’s watchful eyes trained on Hyunjin’s movements. Resentment, for the loaded revolver sitting atop the low glass table, the expensive bottle of wine, brandy, the pack of untouched cigarettes, cigars, a small floral patterned pillbox filled with something beneath the lid he didn’t want to know but recognized anyway. A certain loathing, a disgust, a wrath to that man sitting on the couch. Hunched forward over his knees as he checked something on his phone’s screen.
Hyunjin hardly sent him a glance, passing by to another doorway in the back of the room.
“You’re late.”
“The trains stop running. I have to walk,” He answered the man. Again, hardly sparing him two cents off of his kind. Did he deserve his attention? No. Not for a singular second. The sooner he was done, the sooner he could return to his flat, and continue his revisions for his exam this Wednesday. As if to prove he wanted nothing to do with him, Hyunjin slipped into the far bathroom. Dropping his backpack off his shoulders, into the basin of the sink, he quickly took his lousy t-shirt off to replace with the one he had been lugging around along with his laptop the majority of that day, “What did you want from me?”
“Be a trophy, for a few hours,” The don’ss voice came as a drone to him, partially bored, partially irritated with what he was describing. Hyunjin tried not to pay any of it a fraction of his mind. That bastard didn’t deserve kindness, or sympathy, or a place in his thoughts; Fixing his blouse was more important. Tucking the hem of the loose satin into his slacks was more important. Making sure the sparkles sat in the corner of his eyes brightly, his lips weren’t too broken or chapped and glossed over, his hair was vibrant, voluminous, and puffy in the clean mirror. More important matters, than that man’s words, “They’re some business associates of mine from the race tracks. They want to discuss the coming championship.”
He pressed his finger into his bottom lip. Pressing on the plus muscle as he felt around for any remaining traces of his split lip. Not finding any lingering marks or remaining scabs, though he kept pressing the fingerpad into them. Watching how his touch melted into his lips. Were his lips too red? Did he put too much lip stain on earlier? Was he still beautiful like this? Pretty? Desirable? Was he wanted? Welcoming? Or, to know if any of that truly mattered on this particular evening, he wondered, “Do I have to do anything? I think I caught a seasonal cold, and my throat isn’t feeling too good…”
“Just look pretty, pour a few drinks. Whatever you do afterward is not my business.”
Somehow, those words brought him a relief. How often was it that he earned money from simply sitting still and being quiet? Next to never, almost? The nights he worked were usually so busy, so packed, even meetings like this, with the Don, with Limbo, usually ended in the same place. Or associate meetings usually ended in another similar place. When was the last time he had this opportunity? He’d be a fool not to make a use of it: One night to set his head back and relax.
With that thought, Hyunjin smacked his cheeks to wake himself back up. Energy jolting through him in an instant. He tucked his backpack away in a cabinet, abandoning the bathroom behind him to slump down on the couch. Finding an easy place beside the Don. “Beside him” as a loose term, considering he was nearly on top of the poor man, but he knew the other liked it. Or, preferred it. He liked Hyunjin’s legs kicked over his lap, he liked the prostitute’s head rested by his shoulder on the couch, he liked it when Hyunjin combed his fingers through the bleached to death strands of his silver hair, or when he caressed his hand along his cheek and toyed with his piercings.
He was so young too. The Don. The leader of Lobos, this man he had come to learn wore the name Limbo. So young, but such a taught scowl on his face. Such a serious expression for someone like him.
In the undercity, I have no strength. Not the kind these people have. Surely, if I fought in the way they did, I would die.
His associates were three businessmen. None of which he dared to pay more mind to than he needed to. Afterall, if he wasn’t here to help convince them to sign a deal or act as leverage in a deal, then there was no need to give them any mind. Aside from the fast glance overs. Two of them uninteresting, but the one on the farthest left side had a designer brand watch Hyunjin easily recognized. He must’ve had money to blow. Maybe they could exchange information later in the night, if he had a moment to break him away from the others.
For now, Hyunjin melted against the couch. Leaning his full weight into the back support and the pillows catching him. If only he could take a nap… If only he could convince himself to close his eyes, get a few moments of rest… Instead he occupied himself with the Don’s silver hair, combing his fingers through again and again underneath their conversation. To not disrupt the glasses of poured alcohol, the lit ends of cigarettes burning from smoke tumbling out of their lips, the steady discussion, the pillbox was opened, and one of them had taken something from inside of it, and Hyunjin didn’t want to know what it could’ve been.
If, at some point, he felt the drilling of eyes sinking into his body. If he felt it, digging it’s claws into him, hooking it’s fangs through his veins, glancing him over, from his wavy hair to his delicate fingertips, from the loose billow of the satin button-up decorating his body,
Or the tight waistband of the slacks, if he felt it hungering for him. If in response, the Don’s hand sunk to his thigh to rub circles with his fingers, Hyunjin smiled gently to hide the distain at that connection.
Because he doesn’t do it for comfort,
He does it for power.
Over Hyunjin. Over the three associates, for what he could own if they aligned with him. What he could afford. Over their hunger, their lusting, their desires. He can control it. Like a carrot and stick, a bag of raw meat he brandished in front of their eyes and dared them to surge forward to get it.
I am just prey thrown in a pit with rabid dogs.
And if it isn’t the wolf trapping him, it’s fangs digging into his barred throat while he gasps for air and chokes on his own blood gurgling to cry for help, if it isn’t him, it is someone else. Someone bigger. Someone stronger. Someone like the man sitting across from him. Someone like the man on the other side of the table, eyeing him up and down, picking him apart as if he would have a chance any other day of the week.
So, with rent to pay at the end of the month and a payment notice threatening to shut his water bill off if he didn’t complete his late payments, Huunjin snuck off of Jeongin’s lap. Eyeing what the man was drinking, some standard hard liquor judging by the crystal glass he was using, he stood up from the couch. Grabbing the bottle of aged brandy nearby. He approached the man with the designer watch. Money to waste. What point was there in vying for someone who didn’t have money to waste on a streetwalker like him? Plus, this associate seemed receptive enough to him; Shifting himself to get a better look at Hyunjin as he gingerly set himself on the couch’s arm rest, offering out his nearly emptied glass when he undid the top of the brandy, allowing Hyunjin to pour him another drink. The drunker, the better. The easier to deal with.
It’s the glances. The looks from the corners of their eyes. The subtle simpers they give to one another beneath their breaths, believing him to be hitting on that association. It’s the gazes that size him up, analyze him, examine where to bite him, where their mouths neatly wrap around him and snap his neck for the kill. It’s the frothing, drooling from around their fangs that drips on the floor like a tantalizing clock. Tick, tick, tick, he wants to ball himself up, cover his head with his hands, and hope the rapid wolves leave him alone. Tick, tick, tick, like their teeth snapping down in excitement.
Even the shepard in the room had more class and composure than these men did.
The associate raked over him, taking a sip from the top of his freshly poured brandy, “How much are you?”
Was it that obvious what he was? That even a stranger could tell from a simple glance at him? When did he become so…
He scanned over the man’s wrist, his hands, scouring for any other jewelry or hints on his clothing as to how wealthy this man truly was. Aside from the silver and sapphire encrusted watch, there was a diamond encrusted ring looped around the man’s finger. Hyunjin set the bottle of brandy down, first glancing to check what the Don and the other two were doing (Distracted, obnoxiously so, with their own conversation happening within arms length from him, happening barely out of reach and out of touch). Then settled back to wonder, “Are you married?”
“It’s not your business,” The association still eyed him. Filthy, disgusting, eyes. Predator eyes that narrow as they find their unwilling prey. Rabid dogs. Just rabid dogs, everywhere he went, everywhere he looked, they all want a bite. They all want to dig in, have a fest, like he was the most delicious reward for them to take. And even if he bites back, if he scratches, kicks, claws, screams, and shouts to be saved from these jawsー
I cannot fight like they can.
“I was only wondering because you’re so tense,” He allowed a sultry smile to peel up the corner of his lips and flutter his eyes. He gently slips off the arm rest onto the couch beside the man. He sinks his hands to fiddle with the watch on the associate’s wrist, to dance his fingertips over the man’s bones, “Why don’t you relax? Have another drink, won’t you…?”
This is the only way I’m strong too. This is the only way I have power in this world, the only way that someone like me can stay alive.
There’s alcohol on the associate’s breath. It smells as foul as his expensive cologne. As abrasive as the vanilla white powder on the table and the tabacco cigarettes smoked in that room.
It doesn’t smell anything like Seungmin.
There’s an arm that loops around his shoulder, fingertips like claws that fumble with his shoulder, his neck. The chest he leans his hand against and foolishly giggles to doesn’t feel the same. It never will. It never does.
The touch on his back and his hips is like ice. Cold, harsh, unforgiving. It is soulless, and irritating. It leaves marks over his skin from it’s frost, and melts against him like a dog’s salvia after eating him whole. It leaves all that it touches frozen, scarlet red with throbbing pain, melting into him. It sinks into him. Soaking up. Forever, it will be a part of him. These touches, these eyes, these flirtatious words, movements that didn’t belong to his own mind, they will forever be soaked into him. As bruises, scars, irritations, hickeys, even after they fade, their traces will never leave him. Not completely. They will never fade. He’s just a dahlia, trampled and uprooted by wandering wolves, bitten and ripped apart from his petals.
It must anger them.
That no matter how many times he is uprooted, he still grows back by the end.
A few more years. Don’t be eaten up.
He watches the clock tick by.
He watches the bottles of alcohol be finished off one by one, the cigarettes disappearing one by one, the powder on the table vanishes moment by moment.
He watches the hand stuck to his waist, and a gaze that keeps a careful on him from across the way as if he cared about anything other than the debt he repays.
He watches as the associate he clung against passes a business card over to him. With a fake smile, he steals the pen from the man’s jacket pocket and sets the card against the man’s chest, leaning into him to scribble his work number on the card. A little heart by it, and a flower he had grown accustomed to drawing instead of his signature. A price too. Like a butcher at an auction, he cuts another careful chunk of himself off and sells it to the highest bidder.
He is missing his fingers that could call for help. Parts of his arms that could lift him from this pit, most of his legs that could’ve carried him when he ran away, he’s sold off his kidneys and his liver, he can no longer filter the chemicals that enter him, his throat, he can’t scream even if he tried. He is missing his lung, he can’t gasp for air. Some of his back, these days it’s difficult to carry himself upright. He has sold off his hair, his eyes, the tip of his nose, his stomach, his intestines, he has turned himself into meat for a full-course meal. But if he can help it, if he can hold out with carving up his body as he is, the last thing he will ever sell is his heart. Though, that seems to have been stolen from him, by a loving man he knew he shouldn’t have fallen for.
When the room is emptied, only him and the Don leftover from the brief meeting, Hyunjin flops over on the couch. Crumpling up on his side. He deflates with a bubbling puff of air between his lips. And while he wants to stay there. While he wants to turn into a stone statue. Take a nap against the pillows. He doesn’t. Rather, he refuses to, because he finds himself staring at the back of those silver strands. Where he pushes the bottles aside, wiping up the mess leftover in their absence and brushingnwhat ashes didn’t find their way to the crystal ashtrays into his palm. Even in these moments. In the silence, a frown tugging down on his lips. So young, yet so troubled. So tortured. So solemn.
While he was attempting to recollect himself and his thoughts on the cushions of that couch, the Don then turned to face him. His deadened hair bleached that snowy silver. His usual set of matching loop piercings hugging his lips on either side like snake bites, or, more like a wolf’s bite. Angular features, yet a scowl permanently taped on his face, one would’ve thought he wasn’t nearly as attractive as he truly was when he was able to relax. If he was able to relax, these days. The back of his hands littered with those tattoos; The shattered rose, and detailed depiction of a wolf’s clean bite that marked him as a member, rather, the leader of Lobos. Maybe, Hyunjin dreaded the day that might come. The day he might need to brand himself with that tattoo as well.
As if he was able to read the prostitute’s mind, or the grave expression hanging him and his gut out to dry with dread, his hand tattooed with the rose petals dug into the back pocket of his slacks. From it, producing a wad of cash he held out in offering, “There’s always another option.”
“I will take disgust and self-loathing over senseless violence and hatred,” He sat up and snatched the bills from his hand. Quickly shifting through it to count the amount he earned for ‘just looking pretty, and pouring a few drinks’. Even if it still feels as if he sold his soul for the night, “I will keep my humanity from you, even if it is painful.”
“I can’t protect you if something is to happen, Hyunjin,” The Don lightly set himself down on the edge of the glass table.
“I never wanted you to. I have my pistol and I will protect myself in the way I see fit. Without you or Lobos over me, dictating my life for me,” Hyunjin thumbed out a majority of the cash, disappointed nonetheless when the amount he counted out was nearly negligible in comparison to the amount he still owed back. Yet every chip away was something, right? That was the point of walking to the hotel, that was the point of living in a smaller apartment, that was the point of thrifting and reusing his friend’s old clothes and sweaters. Every little bit. It’s enough. He slammed the bills down on the table, then stood up, “And when my debt is gone, I will jump from the window at the top of the hotel, and take you down with me.”
“I’m looking forward to the day you grow bold enough to follow through with that promise,” He gently arose from the table too, as if to mock Hyunjin through the blandness in his eyes. Through a gaze so unfeeling and cool. The Don left him, grabbing his revolver and his stark midnight fur coat up into his hands, a brief pat to the German Shepard’s head as he passed by his beloved pet, “But no matter what anyone has done to you, you’re still too soft-hearted. You’re too defiant, and stubborn. Don’t change that.”
He returned to the room. The fur coat draped over his arm and his revolver hung off his thumb. Hyunjin’s backpack in his hand.
Offering it out to him,
“Don’t ever grow bold.”
Hyunjin returned to his one-roomed flat when his cracked phone screen read 2:14 a.m.
A cheap, crappy space with his kitchen and bedroom all in the same room, hardly an excuse of a bathroom the only separate area. Barely enough space for him to love without stubbing his toes on his thrifted rug or the posts of his bedframe. More like a college dorm than a real apartment, while it’s wallpaper peeled in the crux of the ceiling, and the bars on his single window even three floors up said enough about the surrounding neighborhood without having to mention the graffiti from gangs on the building’s side. He did have a nicer, safer place to stay a while ago, but he would rather cut his tongue out than give that asshole the gratification of having any sort of power over him. At the moment, this is the cheapest he could get to save up. Every bit. Every little centimeter mattered.
But, it wasn’t all that bad anyway. Sure, he had unpaid bills sitting on the one shelf he had near his door, and he usually had to walk to the coin laundry at odd hours of the day just to have a clean set of clothes. Yet, the apartment was his little pride; He decorated as much of the apartment as he could with various plants to keep him company, and he always had a stack of books by his window, then there was the fairy lights he had hung up in the pattern of a heart because he found them on discount at the craft store, and he had a fluffy rug he liked to sleep on! And his desk, though it was usually strewn with papers and an opened textbook, he took a few hours out of his day to paint stars and flowers on the top. To give it some life! For his long nights studying revisions for his exams, he had something to look at and trace with his fingers to help him remember the textbooks.
And his bathroom! What could be better than this little room that he spent hours upon hours cleaning up and recaulking the cracks between the tiles. His makeup brush holder he decorated himself with sparkles and stickers like a 3rd grader, his mirror he drew on with whiteboard marker so he could wash it off and the encouraging messages he left for himself earlier that morning, his little pothos plant he kept above the toilet, because he didn’t have anywhere else to keep the hydroponic branch he was nurturing back to life. And, hot water! Hot water that rushed against his hands and cleaned them from the grime he felt, hot water that soothed his face from the irritation of the cheap makeup wipes he used to dig the highlighter out from the cracks of his eyes, hot water that cleaned up, washed him up.
“Don’t ever grow bold”
He watched the water rush against his hand. The clear tap rolling over his skin into the basin of his sink. Ridding him of whatever his in the tips of his fingertip. Rinsing him of that smell… That…. Tabacco and vanilla…
I can’t do this much longer…
He quickly turned the faucet off and smacked his cheeks! Knocking his thoughts back into his head.
No! He’s just an asshole! Don’t let them get to you. You’re strong, Hyunjin! You can do it!
Back to the routine! He washed his face off, unbuttoned his shirt and slipped out of those clothes, jumping into his shower with hot water. Cleaning himself up. Scrubbing every inch of himself with his favorite body soap until his hands felt raw, until he was certain he couldn’t feel the frigid touch of those hands on him anymore. He scrubbed the hell out of his hair, shampoo, conditioner, hoping that the faint floral scent from them would destroy that stench clinging to him; He brushed his teeth in the shower and hoped that would be enough to forget the taste of alcohol on someone else’s breath. Then, he scrubbed his body again. Just in case he missed anything. Just in case…
If not, then his eucalyptus scented moisturizer covered up the smell. And the layers of skin he must’ve scrubbed off in his frustration. But it soothed him, every inch of him, and relaxed him until he slipped into his sweatpants and a standard hoodie for pajamas. Plus his fluffy socks to keep warm. Abandoning his clothes there in the bathroom for future Hyunjin to deal with, he was prepped for a perfect night’s rest. Or, sort of. He wished he could’ve laid down on his sheets and fell asleep. Instead, he grabbed his backpack. Unpacked his old laptop and his notebook. Plugged his cracked phone in and set it face down to not distract him. Then, picked-up where he left off with his exam revisions before the Don called him to the hotel. Resuming his study session.
You’re more than this. One day, you’re going to pay off the debt, and you’re going to own your own practice, and you’ll be able to help people. You can’t give up!
But first, study! Get through medical school, complete a pediatric residency, get his license, become board certified, there was so much more. But, first, study. Study hard to earn money, to pay back his debt, and to live better than this.
One day, he’d be free from this.
So, he buried himself in his textbook. Reviewing the information he needed for his exam that week.
In the quiet of that small room, the fairy lights around him flickering like the stars through his curtains.
His hand busied with scribbling down notes from the textbook and the lecture slides.
But he was so… Tired…
He fought to keep his eyes from closing as he worked. He fought against his exhaustion to stay awake for longer, even if he had already used up three pages of the notebook, if he could stay awake for a little more…
His conciousness was rocked back into him by his phone’s ringing. The device vibrating on the wooden surface of his desk as it tried to alert him to whoever was on the other end.
Too tired to really check who was calling him, and assuming that the one on the other end of the phone would be the Don again asking him to do something else, he answered. Simply returning to his notes with a murmur, “What is it?”
“You’rー“
His consciousness was back to him, and his heart soared at hearing that voice, “Seungmin!”
“Yes, hi, that’s me, uhー” How could this be? How could someone’s voice cause his heartbeat to stammer and stutter gibberish inside of his chest? How was it possible he was swooning over Seungmin by simply hearing his voice?! But he spoke so calmly, his voice was so alluring, and sanguine, and dreamy, and he was like, the softest touch of feathers against his skin. The fluffiest, puffiest, feathers! That’s what Seungmin was! A swan song to his ears every time he spoke. Seungmin was like every voice he’s heard in his dreams, like every true crimepodcast he listened to during his studies, “I was just, you know… callingー Why are you awake so early? Did you sleep?”
Hyunjin quickly glanced at his phone’s clock.
4:43 a.m.?!
SHIT! How long was I studying for?!
“Yes! Well. Noー Iー I’m doing revisions for my exams, I haven’t slept yet. And, I had a long night,” He admitted. A half-truth. Determined to tell Seungmin the full extent of what his meant later though, he knew the other would be willing to listen to his woes anyway. Quickly, Hyunjin unplugged his phone from the charger. A brief break from his work couldn’t hurt, right? Afterall, he’d have to be waking up in a few hours for a morning lecture anyway. Tucking his legs up on his chair as he pulled his knees tightly to his chest, Hyunjin couldn’t help from nibbling into his lip as he tried to keep the conversation going, “What are you doing awake so early? I thought you wouldn’t be up for another twenty minutes or so.”
“Oh, yeah. Usually. But, I woke up earlier than my alarm. And, I have to go in to work anyway. I don’t want to do it but…” If he wasn’t completely unaware and didn’t have detective-level deduction skills, he would’ve almost ignored the sound of water in the background. Water, was that a coffee machine bubbling in the background? Did Seungmin even drink coffee? He did, right? Because he used to order Americanos for himself at the cafe? Or was someone cooking? Was Seungmin making breakfast for himself? He did seem partially distracted when he said, “It’s just, you left your sweater at my apartment. So… Would you want to… You know…?”
“Yes, Seungmin. I’d like to see you. I’ll come get my sweater as an excuse to see you,” Hyunjin readily agreed. A slight bresth of relief the other’s microphone barely picked up not going unheard by him. He tried to suffocate his bubbling smile by chewing on his lip more, “Do you want to get dinner after work too? Maybe somewhere nice. We can have a fancy dinner date! I’ve been craving a big steak.”
If there’s a lot of leftovers I could take it home too…
“I would like that a lot. I’ll be back around my apartment around 6, I’ll send you the code and you can let yourself in,” Seungmin wasn’t the best at hiding the smile on his face. He could hear it in his voice, so easily, “Okay, I have to go. Take it easy today.”
“You too Min,” Hyunjin whispered, once last nibble on his lips to hide his own growing grin.
As soon as the call was done,
Hyunjin laid his face into his textbook.
And squealed. Squirming a bit as an excitement flushed through him.
He’s so sweet!!!!
“Hm~” He sat properly again and sucked in a sharp breath to focus himself. Then set his phone on his desk, having to bite his lip harder to suppress his excited giggles as he dived back into the content of his textbook, “Ok!!”
Feeling re-energized, Hyunjin returned to his revisions.
Jisung observed his boss carefully. Where he was sitting on his couch at that unusual hour of the morning for reasons unknown to him. To fill him in on the Hyunjin situation? To fill him in on the fact Seungmin and him were considering themselves together? While the informant glanced at his phone screen displaying the hung up call, and clicked his phone off, a wispy grin on his lips and a certain joy to his smile from a simple call. And yet, Jisung could only power his stove off to stop frying up the eggs he was scrambling for their breakfast, a heavy sigh leaving him, “Seungmin…”
“I know!” His boss agonized. For a severe lack of any other words, or any other ways to describe the speed at which his grin dropped to a grim expression. Something punched with a bleakness from Jisung’s reminder of the reality of the situation, that Hyunjin was basically a whore, and somehow Seungmin thought that being with him was smart. Like being in the presence of a pretty man made his boss completely stupid and unable to think logically, and that only proved itself when Seungmin fought, “But… What’s wrong with it? What’s wrong with falling in love with him…?!”
Is he being serious? Is he not just fucking with Jisung right now? The hitman couldn’t even believe the words pouring out of Seungmin’s mouth, he couldn’t even fathom where Seungmin’s logic ran off to! Perhaps, the only reason he thought that such was because he himself had become soured, “Where should I even begin with why this is stupid and dangerous?! The fact he’s connected to Lobos, who wants you dead?! Or that he knows you are Cygne of the Undercity? Or maybe he owes a debt you or I couldn’t dream of paying off to your enemy! Or, maybe that he sleeps with them for moneyー”
“As if you and I are Saints ourselves, Han?” Seungmin shot up from the sofa to face him, spitting his name like it was the bitter taste of lemon burning his taste buds. Chagrined and snarling, he gnarled his teeth together as if he had fangs to threaten the hitman with, “As if we don’t fuck people over for a living too?!”
“It’s not about morals, it’s about you, Seungmin! How will you feel?” He quickly cut Seungmin off. At this point, abandoning both his scrambled eggs and the untouched pot of coffee, finally finished brewing their shots of caffeine for the day, but the hostile expression the other had as he seethed at Jisung’s words was enough to convince him his delicious meal could wait a few minutes, “He will come back to you with marks on his body from others. He will leave you at a moment’s notice to service someone else. He will never fully be yours. He says it’s only work, but he’s in a different situation. A stripper, an escort maybe, but… It’s a different situation. His life is probably burdened by what he does. And you’ll be part of that, but for what?”
Seungmin… quieted.
That frustration washing out to something more grim. More grave. More… glazed, expressionless, or despondent. His boss turned his head away from Jisung. Though his fingers bundled up into fists by his sides and he seemed to wince up with thought, he became quiet. Both in his argument, and in his presence.
“I know you, Seungmin. I’ve known you for six years now. You’re an idiot if you think I don’t know how this is going to play out with you,” The hitman turned his back to Seungmin while he was brooding and withering away with disappointment. He grabbed two mugs and turned to the coffee pot to pour them both a piping hot mug of that addictive caffeine. His eggs were probably soggy already. Coffee for breakfast it is. He dumped a mug for them both while he lectured, “You will be consumed by guilt because if he and his debt are connected to Lobos, you will never be able to help him. You will be frustrated with him, and you will grow insecure; you will lose your trust in him because, to him, his love is kept for the highest bidder. And to keep both of you from being hunted, that can never be you.”
To his surprise,
Seungmin stubbornly nodded, “I know.”
Jisung stared at him.
Is he an idiot?
“You’re going to be hurt.”
“I know.”
Was he that much of a fool? Just to be in love?
“It’s a lonely type of love, Seungmin. You should find someone else.”
“I know,” Seungmin nodded, again. Completely resigning himself, he sunk back down onto the sofa. His arms folding over his chest and his head lulling as he seemed to search for something on the ceiling. His logic? His reason that escape him? Some common sense? Was that on Jisung’s living room ceiling too? He still didn’t find it, as he simply fixed with a new determination, “At least, at the end of the night, he will come back to me. I can treat him good, Jisung, I can be something good in his life, I know I can…”
“You’re a hopeless idiot. I tried. I can’t save you. Don’t come crawling to me with a broken heart when jealousy gets the best of you,” Jisung clicked his tongue at him. He grabbed up both ofo their mugs and walked them to the coffee table, sitting them down along with some sugar and milk in case his boss wanted some.
A swift kick came to the back of his leg, “Just shut up, Han. Why am I even giving your words any value, you only date psychos.”
“Hey. I do not.”
“Han. You dated Felix for a year. That’s the most psycho of Psychos you can get.”
“Yeah but… You know… He… Gavemethebestheadi’veeverhadinmylife so…”
“UGHー You’re soー UGHH! WHY CAN’T YOU BE NORMALLLLLLLLLLL!”
▄︻デ â•â•â”一á°.áŸËŽËŠ
Note: Seungjin gets a happy ending. Neither of them die, and they don’t really split up either. Hyunjin just talks big to make himself look strange and Jisung is just worried
They’re cute and happy together for the rest of the book, I promise
Comment