Strength.

“I’m… I’m fine now, so you can leave,” she says unconvincingly for the nth time, the squeak in her voice telling a tale of the beginnings of yet another sobbing fest, one that screams the opposite of what she’s saying. Unfortunately, this conclusion is clear even to her, and so to regain some semblance of composure and control of the situation, she pathetically screams, “just go and do your stupid animal thing and swim in your stupid ocean and leave me alone! I’m fine, so just go!”

There was just something about woman that made In Guk feel perplexed. She persued him, initiated conversation ( not his choice, either ) and then tells him he can leave. He stands there like a lost child, shifting his weight on his feet and brushes off the confusion as quickly as his mentality can allow him. Go away? his lips remain parted with words caught in his throat. "Wait, what --?" this was her doing, this was all provoked by her. 

In his mind, this was all her fault and now she didn't want to take responsibility for her own actions. Typical. He cant even look at her, and finds his eyes lost in the ocean where he normally found solace. But whimpers and whines made her very hard to ignore. Also typical. It really was like the olden days, they were both just older and possibly more stupid. Or maybe they just brought out the bad in each other.

His stomach is churning, the heat rises in his stomach and shows through his cheeks - expressing just how frustrated he was without saying a word. She was lying to him once more, luring him in and then tried to push him away. Did she not know how stubborn he was? Life was always fun, he saw her and wanted to punch her, cuss her out and go on with his day. Now he's standing there, listening to her grovel and whine. But he wanted too. 

Waving her off as she tells him to leave for maybe the millionth fucking time that he cant control his eyes rolling. "You're fuckin' stupid. " he reiterates back, childishly at that.  "You don't get to just do that. " gesturing to her with his hands quickly before his brows furrow and the frustration becomes more apparent in his tone. Saturated in self restraint. "Don't walk out of my life, no word. Come back, too many words. Then shove me, insult me, and tell me to leave my spot. Don't even try, because sucks for you. I ain't goin' anywhere so you're gonna have to deal with that.”

His lips purse before resting his head against the top of her head, and smoothing out the stray strands. Though his eyes never rest on her broken disposition. "So you're going to get the fuck up, wipe your ugly stupid face. And you're just gonna have to deal with my presence since this is what you obviously wanted. " he pauses. " in fact." a click of his tongue, and he plots himself down next to her, wrapping his arms around his knees.  "I'm gona just make myself comfortable since you like to be dramatic, when im the one who should be pissed still. " 

He's not speaking, she's not speaking. But he is solid as a rock in his place, eyes wandering along the horizon. The water was so quiet and calm, he wishes he would be like that. "I should still be pissed at you. Jennie." he mumbles as he pulls himself out from his day dream. "Ya want to explain to me why you just abandoned me? and what compelled you to come back to the stupid animal you hate so much. But you're fine - right?" he mocks her, blatantly.

“You’re… S-stre. No. Your energy. Erratic. Shifting in public… will bring trouble.” Oddly enough, he’s thinking straight, but that threatening glare affixed on him, along with the hand squeezing his throat seemed to be affecting his ability to coherently string together words to convey his thoughts. “I ca–, y-you, relax.”

Ira can feel the hairs stand on the back of his neck, as well as along his arms and legs. He's not familiar with whats going on to him, it makes his instincts come to and he realizes he was correct. This man was doing something too him, that caused his nerve endings to buzz stronger than maybe the other anticipated. It urged his hands to go tighter around such a brital, vital piece of the boys body.

 Until his humanity drips through his glowing eyes and his fingers release one by one with every raspy breath that struggled past the strangers quivering lips. The mumbling was patchy but he got the jist of it, who was this boy to tell him to relax? But he was right. 

A couple breaths and a flex of a few muscles in his arms and his hand is now just resting on the others throat, before falling to his side. Chewing the inside of his lip, he had become accustom to the flavour of iron drenching and coating his tongue, regardless of what form he may be in. "Why did you follow me." 

A sorry could have sufficed, but that wasnt in Ira to quickly do. He offers it in his eyes, but it doesn't go much further then that.  "Who knows what could have happened, you coulda got hurt, or somethin' along those lines so?! im a complete stranger you shouldn't act so reckless!" he lectures, like a proper teacher built in his own structures of how he feels others should and shouldn't act. Giving a long pause, before releasing his final breath; his fingers twitch before making full eye contact. "I'm calm. " he pauses. "For now. " His eyes down cast, brows furrowed as he feels his body aching; foreshadowing a soon transformation. 

“Oh and before I forget - Jiyeon said she wanted to meet up with you. It sounds important; so you better be dressed and eaten by then.” 

Gesturing for Ira to go back to the bedroom, Jisoo beamed at him, though the smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. “So go and put on a shirt, mister, or else there’ll be no food for you.”

Ira couldn't help the smirk on his lips as he witnessed her expression change to her regular clear complexion to light shades of pink staining her cheeks. Glancing down at his boxers and rubbing along the back of his neck. "What too much clothes?" he jokes, before rolling his eyes at such a far fetched thought.

 His immune system was intact, built ford tough. At least thats how he explained it. He hadn't gotten sick much since he had become a full blown werewolf. Rubbing his stomach, he hums out and a yawn follows right after; he shrugs to her question - it throws him off for only a second, it was a weird question to ask but he assumes its because she was worried for his well being. Yeah, sure. 

"I don't know. If i do i dont experience symptoms, i mean. I haven't had a cold in years maybe... my immune system is stronger, cells and all that science talk i wont bore you with." he hums again in delight to her question and pushes a warm kiss to the womans cheek, lips brushing along the shell of her ear. 

"That you did. " she feels tense underneath his embrace, perhaps she wasn't honest about how well she slept. Breaking his thought process, he takes his step back and creates distance between the both of them. He never bothered with putting more clothes on, who cares? 

Lethargically heading towards the table that they often shared their meals at, his head perks up to the sound of Jiyeons name. Though his brows furrow in curiosity. "What? That's weird." No it wasnt, Jiyeon was always in trouble. But Jisoo had such a fragile heart, Ira couldn't bare to tell her how god damn often Jiyeons life is at risk; but less how often hes the one saving it.  "Thanks, ill be ready im sure." though truthfully he never is. 

“I’m not,” she shakes her head, gesturing to the door. “It’s okay, you don’t have to leave it open. I’m not, uh,” I’m not scared is a stretch, but, “I’ll be okay if the door’s closed.” There’s the smell of coffee slowly dissipating as the coffee machine hums to life, soft vanilla mixed in. It’s safe, she feels she ought to be certain that it is, but she can’t help asking. “He might come back, if the door’s, uh, if it’s open.”

Nodding to her quick decision of what to call him, he couldn't help but offer the smallest of smiles, before giving out a thumbs up quickly for her choice. "Got it." His fingers itch to be active, and his mind whirls with what on earth he can make this young child to satisfy her palette. Low chuckles in his throat. "I mean it's up to you, but i do make a mean omelette." boasting, pretending to dust away first on his shoulder that didn't exist in the first place. 

Ira, granted his past - there hadn't ever been a chapter in his book where he didn't fall towards his more risky instincts; such as taking care of someone. Though they never end well, it seems that its just in his gene to be a gluton for punishment. Hope for the best, anticipate the worst. But she was just a little girl, granted; there was something particularly off with her scent. Wiping that away for now because as of right this moment, it wasn't his business.

Flickering his eyes to the door he gives a small nod "understood." he hums softly, before taking a couple long strides across the room to close it. Unable to stop the cocky laugh, as well as the smirk that follows in its wake. "He wont i promise. But, alas; im a stranger. So i understand if you dont take my word for it. That guy has had it out for me once or twice, i think its safe to assume he wont want to see me anymore. " his hands placed on his hips as his head tips to the side. 

"Think ill be able to just live here with intimidation as payment?" a brow cocks, before the gears in his brain start working and realizing, maybe this wasn't something to talk about in front of a younger girl who had just gotten attacked. 

"Anyways." he moves on, clearing his throat as he makes his way to the kitchen and sifts through a couple supplies from the fridge and cabinets. "You can sit at the table, or - well anywhere really. Its decently clean, if thats something that bothers you or is concern. " shrugging to himself in thought. " I dont have company much, less risk of a mess; you know?" Cracking eggs into a pan, he goes to quickly dice up some peppers and bacon pieces to fill the omelette with later. Glancing up at her from time to time.

“Please pleaseplease—”

Ira cannot help the roll of his eyes as she rejects his rather spot on accusation, he takes a joy from seeing her struggle with that truth he had rested on her. But his conscious, all the way in the back of his mind - felt horrible. Watching her fall to the floor like that was a bitter sweet result of his hard boiling truth that he's been dying to let out. But he did not feel vindicated, even still after all these years his heart aches to see hers crumble. Bitch.

 He hated this part of him, so weak and useless. When in reality all he's doing is enabling disappointment, and making himself available to be used, then tossed aside. As he stares down at her weeping, giving him her life story, he needed to remember that. She used him, and left him - this is not real. A big part of him wants to tell her to go fuck herself one last time, light a cigarette ( or just chain smoke a pack ) and take his leave from her life once and for all.

 But his feet remain cemented into the sand and his heart hurts, while his mind screams contradicting reactions to act upon.  His fists were tight, and his jaw was set - the conflicting emotions that crashed through him were crippling at best. 

Finally there are things that she's saying, that he can agree too. She didn't deserve him; he has taken the world and placed it on a string, tied it around her neck and whispers soft soothing words of protection, at her beck and call. She didn't deserve all that he had done for her. Did she? yes. Wait, no. No? Yes! 

His brows furrow and he can't help but look away, she was begging, and if anybody knew Jennie the way Ira did, this was absolutely gratifying to see. Hell must have frozen over, twice. He smirks, until time does its magic and he soaks it all in. It was like his lover begging for him back, he tries to swallow down the empathy that threatens to give out and bring her into his arms. But did she deserve it?

The idea of 'what if' was such a torturous thing, his mind is filled with so many thoughts and reactions to his actions before he even does them. To see such a proud, stubborn, tyrant of a girl on her knees begging for him to not leave her - he hates his mind but he hates his heart the most. Here he was, bearing years of anger and disdain for this brat - because she left him. Who would he be if he abandoned her too? Okay, but she left him first. But, theyre also not children anymore. "Jen.." he grunts out, as a hesitant hand hovers over her head. Before it plops down and his fingers delve through her hair. 

Chewing the inside of his lip, he looks away and refuses to look at her. He was putting her before him all over again and nothing could stop him from this decision because this is obviously what fate wanted for him. To forgive, but never forget. The bare the burden of knowing just what people are capable of doing to him, and beside all that - he couldn't deny that his hate for Jennie had stemmed from a sorrow he once felt.  

"You look stupid when you cry.

He clears his throat, before he runs the pad of his thumb along her forehead to brush away the stray hairs that stuck to her cheeks from all the recent crying. Ira had a bleeding heart, and an anger like no other; Hence the nickname given to him - Ira. Translating into anger, and really thats all he was.  Jennie gave Ira a purpose in a sense, within their youth. He owed her a lot, but he didn't deserve a lot, either. "Get up, stop doing all of this. It's getting.." hard to watch "Annoying." stop crying, i forgive you. "You look really ugly right now, you know." im sorry for what i said. 

Does he trust her again? It was so easy to forgive her, it was infuriating and he couldn't help that - thanks to her he had to question her loyalty once more. Was this a lie until she was done with him again? Are these tears real or a show shes performing to once again get her way. His mind says this is all a lie, but deep in the pits of his stomach, he is stuck with the what if. So he has to bear the burden of it. You can have a bleeding heart all you want, but it didn't make Ira feel like any less of a fool.

Fool him once shame on him. Fool him twice, well...she’d absolutely have another thing coming. 

“I’m Joy,” she says, juts her hand straight out towards the stranger and takes his outstretched hand. It’s probably obvious she’s new to this, she thinks, but tries to shake hands anyway. “What about you?”

"Not at all." His hand waving in quick dismissal. Using his head to gesture towards his apartment, he tries to keep his composure, and remaining calm and collected. Suddenly, he was excited to cook for someone. He felt better, knowing that this stranger was safe.

 His brow raises to her name, a small smile to himself as he gives a playful wave. "Inguk, or Ira. Which ever is your cup of tea. " he snickers to himself. "Ill be sure to keep a ton of left overs." He gestures her towards his own home, careful and cautiously. He never wanted to come off as a threat to this person, she seemed young and untouched by the harsh experience that came with being on your own.

"There isn't much.." he mumbles, rubbing along the back of his neck as he uses his free arm to gesture towards the basics. Living room, bathroom, kitchen, dining room. So on, so fourth. "What do you like to eat? name it and i can probably cook it. " its a promise, his father had taught him how to cook in his youth. 

Thankfully, the only questions he has aren’t nosy. “I’m fine,” she says, shaking her head. “He didn’t, um, manage to do anything. Thanks to you.” The stranger has left the door open, cooler air flowing in, and for that (and so much more) she’s grateful. “Thank you.” She doesn’t know how else to express her gratitude, the words seemingly small in the face of what she’s trying to convey, so she repeats it again. “Really, thank you. So much,” she adds. It still seems like too little.

Joy’s shaken, uneasy at her first proper glimpse of bloodlust when turned on her. “I don’t, um,” she shakes her head, but she can’t bring herself to say she’s fine. “Could you… Stay for a while… No, never mind, um, could you, maybe,” she hesitates, awkward, “maybe just, walk me out? Just a little?”

He nods quickly to her thanks, his eyes remaining on her averted pair and soaks in his patience. More questions build in the back of his throat, he supposed that was just his conscern stirring a muck.

 But he could smell the stress, and fear and made the choice to not bombard her and let her do it on her own, or not. Giving a light flick of his hand. "It's fine, really. No problem."  he gives a sincere crooked smile, before looking along her figure to check and see if any marks and bruises were threatening to form.

As she continues, he raises his eyes again to give her his fully attention while her words fail her in a slight stutter. "Of course -- of course.." he sighs out, somewhat relieved she didn't kick him out, regardless of what she had witnessed him do; but it could have been much worse. "How about... well, i was cooking breakfast here soon. 

If you wanted some air, or something.. i can make you something to eat and you can relax before i walk you out or.. to that apartment. " Using his thumb to point in the direction of his own apartment just next door, he smirks playfully. "I am your new neighbor after all, i think.

As Jisoo sizzled eggs and bacon on the stove, her movements quick and precise, she could hear the sounds of Ira stirring. Perhaps it’s the smell of food, Jisoo thought, a smile rising unbidden on her face.

“Good morning, Ira.” Jisoo said, a small smile on her face, previous’ night’s lies seemingly forgotten.

In Guk was always perceptive, watching the contours along the structures of his loved ones face twist and turn into an expression of quick dismay. But it's just a mere flicker in her eyes that spoke a different language than her face. Exhaling in pleasure to the tingling sensation that came with her nails grazing against his scalp, goose bumps run along his arms and the hair on the back of his neck are standing straight up.

 Her touched relaxed every muscle in his body one by one, sleep was trying to lure back in and her soft and urging words compels him to plop himself back down and his head cradled into the plush pillow. It smells like her, sweet and a hint of something he cant quite put his finger on. Taking in a big whif and he smiles just a little bit before his mind goes groggy and he is out like a light once more.

----

He was such a light sleeper, he felt every toss and turn; and more so worse since his senses are so heightened. Her warmth leaves him, but his mind wanders to the bathroom. He always had to go when he is awake too. But as she takes her time, the sounds of pans and slowly emerging smells that curled into the air and seduced his sense of smell once more - his eyes flutter open.

 Pushing himself up from the bed, though his muscles and bones wished otherwise - he shuffles his way to the kitchen. Greeting his lover in the kitchen with a loud yawn, in such a haste to see what was cooking, he hadn't bothered putting a shirt on. 

Smacking his lips, a small tired pout rests along his features while he slowly approaches Jisoo from behind. His chin rests on her shoulder first, before his strong arms wrap around her petite middle. Palms flat to her stomach and presses himself to her, his eyes flutter shut and he tips his head to rest it to her own - swaying their hips subtly in sync. 

"Good Morning, sweetheart. " he yawns it out and turns his head to press a tender kiss to her warmed cheek, letting it linger for a moment as if he was branding her with his kiss. She was his, after all. Fair trade in love, right?

And then her smile drops, and her hands shakily move up to rest on either of his cheeks, “you’re my Ira, and I’m your Jennie. Remember? Talk to me.”

(And if you squint, perhaps you’d realise that she’s teary eyed. Not for long, though—it’s both a beauty and a curse to be unable to feel such emotion for an extended period of time.)

Had this been like the "good ol' days" he would have chuckled at the sound of disdain leaving her lips as she cries a hey out, in shock. Her hurried footsteps in the sand cause his fingers to curl into his palms and he releases a breath of air. Keep calm. You're not the same anymore, and also just.. fuck her. 

His pace quickens when her scent gets stronger, and every muscle in his body freezes and he abruptly stops when the warmth of her arm curls around his. Like a snake taking its prey. He wasn't her prey anymore. Eyes down at the sand, he collects himself. But her touch his burning his flesh, and her words are like bullets. How was she so naive? Clearly, Jennie had no idea who Ira was - atleast not anymore. "Good old days?" he spits out in anger, before he yanks his arm from her cold, dead-like grasp. "Good old days." he mocks again, almost amused. "Dont make me puke. Get mad, im not your dog you can just get bored with and abandon. So as i said, go fuck yourself Jennie. Im too old for these fucking games." he hisses.

How dare she.

Her fingers are ice cold, and he can even pick up on the slight tremble within her bones and it only makes his smile pull further as he raises his hands to rest over hers. He falls silent, and does nothing but hold eye contact. Her words make him sick, if she weren't a woman... he takes the thought from his mind. He was a man of morals. Shame on him, but she deserved to be hurt, perhaps just not physically. "Your Ira?" his head tilts, and leans into her slowly warmed paw and plants a kiss to her palm before raising his hand to rest it behind hers and kiss harder to her palm. His fingers curl around her palm and he peels her hands off of his face. 

" i wasnt yours when you left. You thought id wait for you? get fucking real, miss tech cant figure that out for herself? " a gasp rips through his chest, sarcastic as he could convey. "Something isn’t working in your favor right now huh?!" his hand rests to his chest, feigning as though he had been befuddled by such a scenario playing out. "That’s fucking crazy."  his head turns, and he snickers to herself. She had gotten enough of his attention for now, which was when his eyes shift towards the street where his car was.

"I don’t need to talk to you. Who do you think you are?" he cocks a brow. Heat fills his chest, fire flows through his veins. Ready to explode at any moment, rage was causing his hands to shake but his fingers curling into fists stops any sign of weakness that he may have. 

Knuckles white, nails digging into the heels of his palms. His mind whirls, a million and seven things bubble up in his throat that he wants to tell her, so many years of pent aggression. "If you're anything, you’re just like my mother to a T" he pauses, he thinks about those words before he shakes his head and shakes his head again. "No, you're worse. At least she was honest about how she felt about me." he pauses. "At least when she chose to leave, it didn’t fucking destroy me. Fuck you. " He snaps.

Perhaps, he was being childish. But he was right in his mind, and stood by the grudge that was locked away and sealed tight in his chest. She used him, and left him when she was bored. It was that simple, he was undeserving of such treatment. After all the times he had fought for her, lied, stole, killed. She used his mutation to her advantage, the fond memories were just a facade to mask her true intent. They were lies, the late nights on the phone. Sleeping over at one anothers homes, what he thought was good friendly comfort. Her mind was elsewhere. 

"But were besties right? Because i deserved that after all i did for you? i hope it was worth it. Because i'm not yours anymore, and don't you dare call me your fucking friend. You don’t deserve me speaking to you, much less looking in your direction ever again. Considering, that’s exactly what you did to me. What brought you here? curiosity? boredom? need something, again? please humor me."

For his own closure, he would hear what she had to say. Despite how deep her mark left on his already marred and patched together heart, possibly to mock her more. The dumb, naive part of his heart hopes maybe she had no choice but to abandon him. But never once had he rationalized being abandoned. It was his entire upbringing, what made Jennie different? All she was, was a bitter memory that went with his massive collection of past heartache. 

Arms crossed over his chest, and face stoic with no sign of emotion anymore. He didn't care really, what she had to say. Expecting a bullshit excuse, or a favor. He wasn't sure which would be worse. All he expected was for her to lie to his face. 

[ ☠ ]

Joy does the first thing that comes to mind, punches him square in the face and feels bone crunch under her fist. She scrambles towards the door when he releases his hold, howling in pain, and she hurls the vase at him as a temporary distraction, screaming as loudly as she can.

“Help! Get away from me, fuck, help!”

Today had been a normal day, well; Normal to Ira. Nothing out of the ordinary and his day carried on under his control as it always had. Today was his day to relax, a man with many demons on his back needed an hour or so to shut himself off from the world. A cup of coffee, a cigarette resting between his lips as he scrolls through outrageous news in the paper. From the outside looking in, he was just a normal guy who worked too much and no real stresses. 

He had a great job, he made a lot of money, he was fit and (Somewhat) good looking. Regardless of all that, as fitting as it was for him. He was also quite alone, but if he were to speak on his company, or the lack-there of...anybody would know that was how he preferred it. Nobody to lie to him, deceive him, betray him or hurt his heart. Perhaps it made him a coward not to take people under his wing and create friendships.

But if you were wise, if you had an inkling; there was also something very off about him. He was not normal nor did he live the life of a normal grown man, as a matter of fact, he wasn't a man - per say. Beneath all the skin and bone he was a aggressive, angry, bitter, wolfish fiend who prayed on making people who stood against him suffer. So no, not quite normal at all. 

His “normal” day had all but been interrupted as quickly as he had propped his feet up. Screamed reverberated behind the walls and they were not the type you could mistake for a throw of passion, these were not loving screams. They sounded young, he could smell sweat and feel the stress ( or fear ) closing in on him. If there was one thing Ira could trust with his entire being, it was his raw instinct.  To a normal person he could never explain it, but it caused him to be up on his feet and his jaw was set.

It was right next door, the smell of fear was strong and he was quick to throw open his own apartment and the locked door next to his own, rang more alarms. It was a showing room, what a proper place to keep a secret. Turning his shoulder, so it faced the door. He was throwing all his weight against the wood that stood no chance, a small grunt and stumbling into the room. Finding a girl, young enough to be more enraged. Her hair a mess, fear painted along the adolescent features of her rather cute face. Immediately he whipped his head towards the other smell. A grown man who seemed blinded by some sort of rage, or perversion.

“Son of a bitch.” 

He growls through his teeth, and makes no hesitation to go towards the man with his fist out and reaching for the other mans shirt. To ultimately close the distance and bring them chest to chest, and without a single moment of hesitation he connects a balled fist to the mans cheek. It felt swollen against his knuckles ( she must of at least tried to protect herself. Nice hit ) he’d make a comment on that, later. This man seemed confused, but Ira was shoving him out the door. Well, dragging him by his shirt. No type of excuse was being heard, and he was quite proud of himself for how he was keeping his composure. 

Throwing him out into the hallway, the strangers back connects to the wall and Ira is down on one knee; face to face enough to the point that he could smell the last thing the man ate. “Touch that little girl again, look at her, or even think about her and you will not see the next day. “ He offers a small smile, more sinister, though. “I promise.” 

The look on the others face, was more than enough assurance. Though Ira couldn’t help but pick up on the confused expression as well, shocked even. Anyways. He releases the man, and he wastes no time scrambling to his feet and running down the hall. Ira, on the other hand collects himself. Straightening his shirt, wiping the very faint blood off his knuckles before carefully walking back into the room, leaving the door open to allow the other stranger to know she was safe to leave.

And he runs, breathless, adrenaline pumping throughout his very being, after the stranger with the odd eyes. 

“Wait!”

Ira had never had to deal with the stress of a forced change to his form, except for when he was lost in his adolescence filled with rage and hate that mixed together and learned to co-exist with a more adult form of himself. The stress was too much for him to stay in one spot for so long when his body was undergoing such an aggressive force of change. 

He was not walking as fast as he had hoped, he damned his senses for being able the cry in his direction. It would normally be nothing, but as of this moment in a heated and stressful situation, this person calling out for him could very easily become a threat. 

Stopping in his tracks, he turns around quickly and starts to act a bit out of character. Or more or less like his old self, which in his experience was never good sign, or place to fall back into. In Guk turns on his heels and starts his power walking towards this man he had hoped would be help, but no he chased Ira. As he approaches the boy, his fingers wiggle and then his hand raises.