N E B U L O U S

Habits are odd little things interjected into human lives, seemingly existing without giving its owner any benefits. You’d think that evolution would sift out the existence of habits—drive it to extinction—and yet today, there it sits, ready to bring oddly placed satisfaction to its owner and a wave of distaste to those around them.

One example of a habit: Jaehyun’s pale fingers working to peel the skin off his chapped lips, which Kang Joon silently disapproves. The peeling of skin will lead to open wounds, and walking around unsterile environments with open wounds is like a neon-decorated entryway for pathogens to invade. Does the man not fear death in the slightest? Kang Joon’s nose scrunches up just a miniscule in disgust, but not evident enough because he is deathly afraid of offending anyone other than himself.

Another example of a habit: Kang Joon’s insistence on attempting to leave an imprint in dry cement. Or at least, that is how he would describe these experiments he carries out. What with the many failures he’s had an a whooping zero success, many would claim that it’s about time Kang Joon just accepts his fate and give up on this pipe dream, and yet, pessimistic Kang Joon is oddly hopeful when it comes to these experiments. Desperation works wonders on the soul, some would argue.

“I come up with theories with the knowledge I’ve learnt from Immunology and Microbiology—oh, I major in those sciences—and I try to test them out,” he clarifies, and his brows furrow in urgency as he tries to answer the next onslaught of questions, “uhm… I uh… I uhm… all of the above, if I’m honest? But probably the last option.”

He is taken aback by the latter’s accusation, and any other person would be immediately offended and try to argue the latter, but Kang Joon has neither the strength nor the confidence to do any of that. His eyes shift downwards at the latter’s venomous words, but if this is an attempt to get Kang Joon to do anything about it, then unfortunately, Jaehyun is far too late to the party. Because these are the words that Kang Joon has been telling himself since day one, and yet, he has never even so much as considered visiting the probably many people he’s harmed with his mere presence.

Jaehyun is simply stating everything Kang Joon himself knows like the back of his hand, and truly, the germaphobe wishes to argue that stating that one should take risks is one thing, but actually doing it is another thing all on its own. At least now, Kang Joon still has the benefit of doubt in terms of how badly he’s affected others he’s come across; if he were to seek them out only to find that they strangely passed because of some typically mild illness, he fears he can never bounce back from that. If he were to confirm that everything he’s feared have become facts throughout the years, Kang Joon fears he will truly cave from world and possibly even end his own life, if it were for the greater good. But alas, as Jaehyun has generously pointed out, Kang Joon is a coward, and so he simply mutters a “yes, of course” to the latter’s biting statements.

Now, he longs for the conversation to end, and so he simply stares at his shoes and wishes this whole situation away. He’s not going to take the initiative to cut the interaction short, though, because he fears he’ll offend the guy.

And then the latter speaks more, and luckily this time, it is not mostly negative words aimed to harm his character, so he begins to regain some semblance of confidence to look at Jaehyun in the eye once more as he answers the guy’s questions.

“One decade,” although appearing meek, he is confident that he has the date right, because he can never forget his first kill—the first time someone has died because of a failing immune system caused by one guilty mutant, “I’ve been— I’ve been studying and experimenting ever since.”

Kang Joon perks up when the man shares his degree, and almost instantly, a metaphorical lightbulb goes off in his mind. This is beyond perfect; he has never had the pleasure of meeting other students who are skilled in the area of Biological Science, mostly due to his reclusive lifestyle. But to meet someone with such a background here, in the foundation where he’s forced to stay, and who is also a mutant and therefore resilient to his cursed ability? This is undoubtedly a golden opportunity.

“You can help me!” he spits all too quickly due to his excitement, and then he remembers that the man had only just insulted him mere seconds ago, and Kang Joon’s excitement drains from his body and he’s back to his once meek self. Except, he can’t exactly just leave the guy hanging with no explanation offered, and so Kang Joon shyly continues—not really because he thinks Jaehyun will help him, but more because it won’t leave Jaehyun feeling so confused, “I mean… you don’t have to at all. But with your background, you can help me with my experiments. I’ve been doing them on my own all along, and I just— it’s not working at all. If another mind were introduced then maybe… maybe I can actually get better…”

The smallest change in the stranger’s expression is curious to her now, eyes tracking the circles his fingers trace as she presses harder with her ability. It’s a jab aimed at her; perhaps he thinks she’s predictable, but she knows better.

The fun is only just starting.

Uncertainty sharpens the edge of her resolve, intent clear and definite. It isn’t everyday she meets someone who would so unabashedly play around with their abilities and the people around her – she doesn’t know if she likes what he’s doing or not. Regardless, this is her place. He should take his parlour tricks somewhere else.

It is thrilling, she thinks, to finally have a proper challenge. He’s stronger than most, but it is only to be expected, after all. “Perhaps,” she agrees, smiling. “People really should know when to stop,” Joy says, dragging the syllables of the last word out, unreservedly pointed comment. 

The two fights seem to have merged and people are throwing more than just punches at each other. It seems he’s given up on quelling the excitement; Joy allows herself to revel in the chaos for a second, feeling hackles rise and blood boil. Someone hurls a bottle their way by way of thanks, this isolated bubble of courtesy within the turbulence of the bar. It misses her, of course; even if it had been aimed accurately she would have easily avoided it.

It is a pretty choreography – he tilts himself towards her, arm outstretched in a protection, quaint little show of chivalry. Joy obliges, curls a hand around him forearm in feigned surprise and worry for a brief second before letting go. “Oh, my,” she says, tone belying her act. “Don’t you think someone might get hurt like this?”

“I’d hate if it were you, especially if it’s because of me,” she says, shaking her head. Closing the distance between them, she leans forward, mirroring the other’s body language. She gives him a wink, a threat decorated with a smile.

Being approached in a moment such as this one makes Lu Han feel awkward.

Foolish as it might be, it doesn’t look as if he will soon be over the failure that rests against metal; charred remnants of vegetables, ready to go out of the pan and directly into the trash can. Perhaps this is a childish reaction, but he despises having things go to waste as easily as that - furthermore, he ought to know better too. This is what Lu Han keeps on telling himself, at least - that he should’ve known better. And yet, he did not. 

So much for following a simple recipe, huh? Having been witnessed by another doesn’t help, especially not when this was a first meeting. What sort of impression did he leave in the aftermath of this disaster, anyway?

He sighs again and grabs a spatula before moving towards the trash can, looking rather sullen as he worked the cooking utensil against the bottom of the pan to try and scrape off the burned vegetables. The offer made almost goes past him, drowned out by the sound of plastic grinding against metal - it’s what stops it. Rising from his slightly hunched over posture, Lu Han blinks several times upon turning to look at the other male - what was his name again? Right, presentations never went through properly. That ought to change, but not at that very moment.

“Would you?” if excitement doesn’t stand out crystal-clear in his voice, then nothing else does. Correction: it isn’t only in Lu Han’s voice that it shows, but also in the way that his expression lights up and how he perks up. “I mean, if I am not keeping you from anything else, then I would definitely appreciate the help,” although an offer made usually means that the person has both the time and disposition to uphold their word, it never hurts to be entirely sure about it.

jaehyun is a stark contrast to his attitude. and it’s really a new, fresh perspective that jaehyung isn’t used to. the fact that jaehyun came from school- a student union meeting? that definitely didn’t sound like highscool. jaehyun is someone who potentially has a career path- and that’s really exciting and amazing! “fancy fancy school kid. i kind of figured you’d grow up to be really smart. either that or a sociopath; i think you lucked out.”

jaehyun is the epitome of what jaehyung imagined himself to be with a family that would support him. how funny that it turned out in the opposite way. laughing, he tries to barter back with jaehyun over bill, after he recommends tea of course.

“i mean i’ve always liked peppermint, nothing too bitter. but the plum tea is always a delicious and traditional classic.” he replies cooly. jae likes tea and coffee but since retail life is a pain in the ass, he really, really now just drinks coffee. you gotta be hype when dealing with customers or else they think you’re dead. you can’t show how dead you are to the customers, only your soul will remain dead.

yeah. anyway…

he relents when jaehyun wants to pay. honestly, he’ll get it next time. “fine but the next time we come out for coffee, i’ll buy. i mean even though technically i’m older than you by a few months.” he grins slyly, winking at jaehyun as the two of them are next for their order. he quickly orders his coffee first: a medium cafe mocha. he practically clings onto jaehyun when the order is paid for. they take a seat in a spot a little farther from the rest of the people frequently the cafe.

It was easy, conversing with Jaehyun. The other seemed to almost always have a witty, sarcastic comment ready for him. It was just… comfortable. He smiles easily, “Of course, I’m sure you’ll be the best doctor the world has ever known.” It’s not too big a deal, for Jin Goo to just keep letting Jaehyun have his way.

how interesting… interesting indeed.

bogum doesn’t believe him for a split second.

he actually has to audacity to laugh as this person gives some sort of explanation. what? knocked themselves out? bogum knows what he saw and he’s a little sad that he didn’t get it on video. but he has his phone recording. he blinks as he’s about a few meters from the other now. he stops momentarily, allowing himself to calm down.

“wow, it’s like you completely avoided my statement and are trying to push the story elsewhere. do not throw me a red herring, i’m not going to catch it.” bogum sighs, almost a little sad that this person is not making it easy. but he supposes if everything was easy then he would have no problems collecting and eradicating the mutants in his city. fortunately, he has a lot more patience than most. most of the time.

“you’re trying to convince me that you were able to drop three drunk men to the ground without even so much as scraping yourself up? give me a break.” bogum scoffs as he takes another few steps closer. the darkness still hides him but his outline is easily visible. he’s feeling a bit bolder than usual today. he’s really enjoying this.

“i’m not fooled that easily. tell me, how did you manage this?”

“Am I?” He remarks ambiguously, his voice lilting in such a way one could almost hear the faint smile that had crept up his face. He has an inkling of what the man wants, but he doesn’t feel like giving him it just yet. 

Is he now? Is he trying to convince this stranger otherwise? Perhaps he was before, but clearly the man was going to be difficult about it seeing how adamant he was about weeding out an admission from him. If that’s the case, then there’s no real point in trying at all. Once a person has set their mind on believing something, anyone’s going to have a hell of a time trying to get them to think otherwise. And Jaehyun doesn’t feel like putting himself through that kind of stress. 

He takes as many steps back as the man steps forward, retreating further into the darkness. It’s not so much a reaction out of fear than it simply being an act of denial; he isn’t going to give the man anything until he gets something back too. If the man wants to know how, then Jaehyun wants to know why – why so curious? Besides, how rude of the fellow to be so demanding of answers when they hadn’t even exchanged names yet. Not that he intends on sharing his in any case. 

‘’I’m not trying to convince you of anything. Am simply offering a suggestion. It’s up to you what you wish to believe and most importantly, what goes on in that little head of yours is none of my business is it mister?” 

Jaehyun takes another step backwards, and it’s an invitation for the man to come closer join him in the shadows; a signal that what answers he wants, he’s not giving so easily. Try harder. 

“Why so curious?” He asks, fingers picking at chapped lips.

There isn’t much change in Jaehyun’s demeanor, and Jin Goo can’t really tell whether the other is still upset or just uncomfortable with that level of sincerity. It’s not until the other mutters his next words that he can see it’s the latter. 

He smiles rather wryly at the other’s statement. It’s such a Jaehyun-like thing to say, that he’d bring him back to life just to kill him again for being an annoyance. “I’m sure you would,” he concedes, just a hint of a grin in his voice. 

The subject takes another turn and it gets a little lighter again. Conversations with Jaehyun are like that, he finds. At one time they can be dark and upsetting, and the next minute things could be light-hearted again. It was just a little concerning how easily the other’s emotions switched around. Maybe that was something that Jaehyun was conscious of, but that would be a problem to solve later on. 

He chuckles as Jaehyun fixes his frown, “I’ll keep that in mind, although if it’s that bad, maybe I should consult an actual doctor,” he jokes. It’s not that he doesn’t trust in the other’s abilities… But at that level… Maybe that was it, actually. “Don’t worry. I’ll try my best to live as long as possible. Wouldn’t want to soil your reputation before you establish a steady customer base.” 

Jin Goo eyes the metal cabinet they just moved, “How did you get this thing out of the bathroom in the first place?” 

That’s the thing about Jaehyun – he can’t stand not being in control. Being in control meant not getting carried away with people and their emotions; not letting them dictate how he should feel. Jin Goo was very good at getting carried away with sentimentality, and very good at drawing people into his sphere of emotions. It’s a bit annoying.

It’s something that Jaehyun can’t understand. Being sentimental. 

It’s nothing more than a burden to the present. It’s always best to look upon the past objectively for there is nothing to be gained from being sentimental; nothing to be learnt. 

“Excuse you. I will be an actual doctor in 5 years or so. And an actual doctor could never patch you up with the tenderness of yours truly.” He scoffs, a sarcastic grin twisting up the corners of his lips. 

“Oh that?” Following Jin Goo’s gaze towards the metal cabinet, he shrugs, “Was cleaning up and re-organising the bathroom...” His eyes fall to the ground where obvious scratches marred the wooden, panelled floor. It wasn’t a good idea to have dragged that heavy shelf out, but it wasn’t like he’d the strength to actually carry it out alone in the first place. 

there’s no state of being that unsettles summon more than that of feeling small, overwhelmed. she’s a girl that winds too tightly into her feelings and this is no different─ his presence is a crushing one, his shadow a means of suffocation. in her overactive imagination she pictures various ends─ his hands around her throat, silencing her for certain; his mutation─ she doesn’t know what it is, but in this moment she can imagine it as nothing but painful; there are plenty of heavy objects around, waiting to be struck against the back of a skull.

the soft whimper she gives is pathetic, truly like a rabbit in the jaws of a wolf. the pooling tears don’t stop stinging her eyes even when she closes them. the way she flinches and yet doesn’t dare move when he does is something that she can’t control; it’s almost as though she’s forced to look up at him─ finding him so much closer does little to quell the rampant stampede that continues on in her chest─ by some compulsion, even when all she wants to do is turn tail and bolt right out of the room.

his question─ this one at least, instead of the one she couldn’t bring herself to answer before─ feels like a weight or a warning despite how lightly it’s spoken. she swallows, hard, a shuddering, closed lip inhale chasing it down. in her eyes, her warped perception, his words are a mirage; sculpted like an oasis yet designed as a trap of quicksand. she thinks they’ll drag her under, won’t release her─ drown her, until she can’t think, can’t breathe. there’s a beeping in her purse that seems too far away, as if there’s nothing she can do to reach for it, cling shiru to her chest for the comfort and stability that she’s lacking.

she’s frozen. even as she stares at him, at jaehyun with trembling lips, there is nothing that brings her body to move.

but her next breath comes out somehow easier than the last even though it’s still a fight to push through her lungs. just a little.

she still doesn’t know how to answer; her whispered reply drops in the same way her eyes do, shaking and uncertain if the path she takes will be the right one. 

“y-you, on the phone.” this will be her end, but she can’t stop herself now. “i. i heard you, talking. about… a-about the bodies. a-and hiding them. a-and…”

it’s as far as she can get. she keeps her head lowered, sticks her gaze to the floor. a part of her wonders if anyone would hear her if she screams.

There is no joy or sense of accomplishment to be felt in finally breaking down the wall the girl had built up before him. She's finally starting to talk, but this isn't exactly what he wants. Being a bully is never something Jaehyun would ever want. Not really. The corner of his mouth ticks upwards in a fleeting movement that can't really be called a smile; perhaps an awry grimace.

Words are powerful things, and words said by loved ones never really leave you. Especially the hurtful ones. Her venomously sweet screeching whispers still haunt him, filling his head with her voice, her memory, her being whenever he least expects is. She won't ever let him forget who's fault it really was that their family fell apart. 

You He is to be feared. ( I don't believe that. )

Sana's actions reactions to him, to his presence, to his actions, to his words are silent accusations aimed at him. And when she looks up at him, light reflecting off her gleaming, watery eyes it's like a stake through his heart. ( See, my son, I'm not the only one who thinks so. ) His fingers stray to scratch that non-existent itch on his left wrists. 

"Huh?" He retorts unintelligently, his face pulling into a puzzled frown, and his fingers flattening to press against the skin he'd been scratching. He'd heard the girl, but he hadn't understood her. His mind races as it tries to process her words, attempting to unscramble the meaning behind them. What was she talking about?

"What bodies? What did I hide?" Her remark had caught him entirely off guard and it shows. The dark intensity in brooding eyes having dulled and in confusion and his rigid posture slackening as he ponders the timid accusations tossed his way. 

The memory is faint, and Jaehyun doesn't even consider it, not until he actually says it out loud.

"Bodies...? I'm a medicine student and I do study them and..." Said memory in question is triggered as his rambling train of thought goes on, "Hiding them... hide..." His head snaps back rapidly to stare disbelievingly at the girl before him as it occurs to him, "Wait are you talking about the time I snuck into the University's morgue after hours to c–check out the bodies?" He doesn't mean to, but his words tumble out in a messy stutter, his face colouring in an emotion probably most akin to mortification.

It had just been that one time. That one time he'd wanted to see and touch the body up close after that orientation tour. He'd just been a freshly initiated year one med student then, and infinitely curious, so yeah, he broke some rules and snuck into the morgue that night with a course mate who'd been just as curious. They'd been interrupted by night security and couldn't return the body properly back into it's 'drawer'. Jaehyun later acted as a distraction whilst his buddy went about cleaning up the evidence and, of course, returning the body to its rightful place and that was the end of that. At least, that's what he'd thought.

He'd thought that this matter would have stayed a secret between the both of them, and that he'd take this rule-breaking escapade to his grave. But here he was, being called out about it and he can't help feeling somewhat shamefaced at being caught red handed.

It’s been a strange few weeks.

It seems like Halloween flipped the world upside-down; it certainly brought out parts of Gyuri she’d rather have stayed hidden – the destructive tendencies, the complete inability to keep a grip on her emotions, the helplessness of someone who only wants others to rely on them. Her nerves still throb with the memory of sinking pain into another’s body and fishing out pleasure, and all she wants is to forget – to wash it away and never think of it again.

That’s not how the world works. The world remembers, in all its little ways, what happened; reminders are everywhere, everyone’s still on edge for it.

But Gyuri just wants things to go back to normal.

She’s an actor who’s lost the script for her roles, forgotten which lines go where; she’s shaky, off in a way that most people who know her at all can feel simply because her acting is usually flawless. But she’s back to following the program she knows, trying to find a semblance of normalcy there; perhaps if she just keeps playing the part as she remembers it, it’ll get easier again in time. Isn’t that what she did when she first trained herself this way?

It shouldn’t concern her much that Jaehyun wants to meet in his room rather than the common areas; there could be any reason for it, and yet with how nothing is quite working the way it usually does, Gyuri can’t help but feel a tinge of unease. She pushes it aside; Jaehyun has only ever been friendly and diplomatic in the best way, after all. A small alteration in routine doesn’t make it any less so.

She knocks lightly on the door once, twice – pauses at the sound of Jaehyun’s voice and patiently waits for the door to open. Gyuri still smiles at the sight of him, one good-natured but not showing teeth. “Hello – thank you,” she echoes politely, striding into the room easily.

Naturally, it seems Jaehyun is an excellent host – Gyuri blinks a few times at the array of tea, cheesecake, and nuts prepared on the coffee table. “Aish, you didn’t need to do all this,” she nearly chides, all playfully, as she casts Jaehyun another smile – as long as things feel normal, it seems she can still act her role just fine. “I’m your noona, I should be the one making snacks, you know?”

Jaehyun returns the smile, silently ushering the lady towards the couch as he takes up the seat by the armchair diagonally adjacent to it. One blink. The scene splutters for a second, shadows bleeding in from the edges, deep crimson lines blossoming ( beautifully ) all over Gyuri’s body – across her pale neck, just above her knees, down the length of her wrist... her thighs...

Vulnerable spots, he notes at the back of his mind. 

Two blinks. The world is back in full colour, the lines gone, and Jaehyun thinks he might’ve imagined it all. He wonders, has Gyuri’s voice always sounded this girlish? Her voice. Sweet and tinkling, like the undeveloped pipes of a child; yet sly and coy, a foreboding intensity underlining her words. Word holding secrets meant to be unheard, unknown, unnoticed. 

v o i c e s b l e n d i n g 

He can’t help the way his lips inexplicably curl up at the corners; can’t help the way his eyes momentarily glaze over as though his spirit, soul were lost in another time. He doesn’t notice how he’s scratching the non-existent itch on his left wrist red and raw. 

Three blinks. Ah, this is why he ought to break things off, he thinks as he absentmindedly sucks on his bottom lip, fingers now gently rubbing his raw wrists instead of scratching. He’s been feeling awfully distracted lately, so very distracted... ( I can’t recall why )

“But your snacks aren’t tasty.” He teases lightheartedly, reaching out for a cup of tea. In the process of doing so, the back of his hand briefly, so very briefly brushes against Gyuri’s knee. The sudden connection, the mingling of electricity ( despite how very brief it’d been ) jolts him, blood rushing too his temples, eyes darkening and pupils dilating – sensitive, too sensitive. He’s being too sensitive. Halloween seems to have heightened his sensitivity to bio-electricity.

Regardless, Jaehyun manages to rein himself in, and he brings the steaming cup to his lips with just barely trembling fingers. The only indication of his momentary affliction was perhaps the second-too-long halt before he’d picked up the tea cup. 

After taking a tentative sip, he rests the cup on his lap. Now or never. 

“I prefer to call myself a good cop that intimidates through mere presence.” he chuckles. It’s not like he goes around beating all the criminals up, or is a corrupted officer that accepts bribes from the rich though. Some people are just naturally harder to handle than the others. And he couldn’t help but laughs at Jaehyun’s question. 

“Where did you get that impression that we slam heads against the tables from?” He isn’t offended by that, more so amused than displeased. “Well, it’s true some cops are not… particularly patient — you get worn out easily if you have to constantly deal with people who think they’re smarter and greater than the rest — but we’re not legally allowed to do that to the suspects. That would be deemed as violation already.” That is obviously not a wise move on the police’s part, clearly. 

“Yah, come tell me that when you’re at my age now, and are you seriously telling a cop to fake faint just to get time off? Goodness sake, you’re ridiculous,” he complains, as he gets ushered off by the younger male. “And I thought I was the naggy one here,” he laughs, thinking how absurd it is to be reprimanded by someone younger and one who isn’t his mother. The chances of that is close to none. 

“My clothes come cheap, it’s going to be a waste wearing expensive clothes in our job.” It’s not as if anyone would notice them wearing branded clothing when their focus is more on catching criminals. “I have a healthy, functioning body! These are just external wounds that like heal soon,” he protests. He exercises regular and abstains from unhealthy food, if that’s not healthy then he doesn’t know what it is. 

He tags along the younger male with almost a resign fate, the determination on his face making it hard for him to refuse. He rolls up his sleeves, stretching his arms out so that Jaehyun would have an easier time attending to his wounds. 

“That’s a deal then. Treating you to lunch is the least I could do after you patch me up,” he grins. He doesn’t have to go to the hospital or clinic and wait for a long time in queue to get treated. Time is essentially something he lacks, and so it is worth it in his opinion.

“I see it on TV a lot.” He shrugs, a faint smile on his lips as he acts out the imagery in his head – fingers grabbing hair air as they repeatedly slam down the imaginary head against an imaginary table. “Exciting stuff. Wouldn’t want to be stuck in the same room as those cops though.”

“Touché.” He remarks simply, clicking his tongue. 

“Though I still say fake it till you make it. Get the day off or something. The elderly are so uptight and stubborn.” He tsks, “Sleeping for a day won’t kill you.” It’s rather ironic that he should be the one saying such things when he’s probably as severe of a workaholic as the detective appears to be. Technically, he’d no right to be criticising the man’s lack of self-care but well, it’s not like the man knew about that. He really ought to take his own advice sometime though.

“Uh huh, as if cheap clothes make their wastage any better.” He chides lightheartedly as he sets about disinfecting the dectective’s wounds ( there were so many he decided to just douse the fellow’s entire arm with saline solution ). “You still end up killing the environment. You have any idea how much water is used to manufacture one cotton shirt?” There he goes again, spouting nonsense that he himself doesn’t adhere to. Jaehyun himself has never been one to be too concerned with the environment. At this point, he was just finding an excuse to nag at the man. Bantering seemed to come rather naturally with the detective.

Pausing for a moment, he glances up at the man, eyes squinting as he makes a show out of his scrutinising. “Hmm, my guess is that you’re in your thirties, perhaps forties detective. Just wait a decade or so, you probably start getting all those old-people-aches. All from the accumulated damage. You don’t see internal damage till then.” 

“Seriously though, give your body a break once in a while. Healthy bodies don’t last forever.” 

Once he’s done bandaging up the detective’s arms after slathering on anti-bacterial cream, Jaehyun sets about packing away the equipment back into the first aid kit. Everything was all good and done in a jiffy. 

@advjaehyun

Some days were more eventful than others, and Heeyeon had already gone through three minor ‘disasters’ since she woke up. On her way to work a bird did its business right above her and it landed in her hair. Fairly disgusting, she wouldn’t lie, but nothing a few napkins and a clever hairdo wouldn’t conceal. She slipped when taking out the trash at work and one of the bags broke, making her smell less than ideal. Fortunately it was at the end of her shift, and to show respect to everyone who would be stuck with a stinky mess if she took the bus, she decided to walk home. The fresh air did her well, and all she wanted right now was to get home and take a shower. But before reaching the apartment she managed to step in dog poop that an owner had neglected to pick up. Seems like she would need to clean everything.

With some good music and a nice cup of tea she easily took care of the mess that this day had been. She could already laugh at everything she had been through as she dried her hair. No need feeling down over something that was easily fixed. She didn’t feel like cooking, though, so once Heeyeon looked presentable again and smelled acceptable she was out through the door again. Something fast, unhealthy, but absolutely perfect sounded like a good choice, and she could already hear Shinhye’s nagging voice at the back of her head: but what about nutrients, hani. Which only made her smile, because she could always feel the love behind each syllable when her sister spoke. Not that she ate much healthier because of that, though.

College life is surprisingly mind-numbing. Or maybe it’s just him with his unhealthy tendency to overstretch himself. He probably should cut down on his commitments next semester.

In any case, a long, tiresome day is cause for frayed nerves and Jaehyun is most certainly feeling ‘frayed’. He wants nothing more than to get home and relief the burden slung over his shoulders and folders weighing down his arms. Readjusting the strap of his book bag, he picks up the pace, eager to catch the next bus that ought to be arriving in approximately 15 minutes ( if the app was accurate ). Hell, if he missed it he’d have to wait for an extra half an hour for the next one.

It’s a matter of coincidence, that he happens to look up at just the right time – tilting his head backwards and to the side as he cracks his neck – and notices the heavy piece of furniture perched precariously by the windows edge. It’s somewhat fascinating how the people shifting said furniture about thought that doing so by a window’s edge was a good idea. It was a disaster waiting to happen, and Jaehyun can’t seem to tear his eyes away. 

Not a moment too soon, he sees one of the movers slip up, the huge object twisting and Jaehyun instinctively knows what’s going to happen next. 

“Hey—” 

The exclamation slips pass his lips without much thought; a spontaneous reaction to the situation. But then he picks up something somebody in his peripheral vision. A woman? A woman. Right under the tipping falling furniture, and the second, ‘Hey’, is much louder, and much, much more urgent. 

Contrary to popular belief, time does not slow during matters of life or death, or at least, not this time. In fact, everything seems to happen much more quickly – probably the adrenaline. 

The woman isn’t moving. Why isn’t she moving? 

“MOVE!”

Amongst the screaming and panicked chatter, his voice seems to cut through the mess of noises. 

A mess of books and folders clatter to the ground as he thoughtlessly swings out an arm, fingers curled around air as he violently jerk the limb to the left. The lady’s body follows, limbs flailing gracelessly like a limp marionette being roughly dragged to one side via tangled strings. 

and here he thought he would be wrong.

this person, and these three attackers, looks severely outnumbered. he’s thankful that his phone is already recording as he slowly steps forward, aiming to catch a glimpse of what this scene gives him. he doesn’t do anything until he hears a growl from the boy currently being attacked.

and then some curious happens. these three perpetrators suddenly drop the ground. one, two, three. completely dropping. now he’s not underestimating this kid but to drop three drunken men without touching them? or even barely scraping the surface of their skin? that is not normal.

this kid is a mutant.

oh, what a find. bogum is practically beaming with a new energy now. another spotted for his potential collection. quietly, he walks out of the shadows, adjusting his long coat with a smile on his face.

“what a hit,” he comments out of nowhere, clapping in a mocking fashion as he sends this person a smile. and soon morphs into a smirk. his eyes are practically flashing hungrily at this person.

“and someone like yourself, knocking out of three of them without touching them? incredible. it’s almost like,” he pauses for a moment, acting as if he’s slightly unaware of what this person is. slowly he looks back at the other and smiles wider.

“a mutant.”

His ears were still ringing from the earsplitting club music, and his mind somewhat preoccupied with the three hooligans who were had been bothering him. As such, he hadn’t noticed the approaching company at all. On a normal day, he likely would’ve, but not tonight. It’s only when said company decides to make himself obviously known with his sharp clapping and clear voice piercing through the chilly back alley that Jaehyun notices he’d an audience of a sort.

One would have to be an absolute fool to not notice the dangerous edge lacing the voice of the speaker, and Jaehyun was no fool. His instincts told him that something was afoot, and this particular individual, was not likely ‘innocent’ in his interest in the situation.

Not moving from his position, he turns his body ever so slightly, catching himself a glimpse of the newcomer from the shadows. If his evaluation of the male individual had been unwarranted before, he most certainly feels it’s warranted now. Those eyes – he know enmity when he sees it, he’s seen plenty of it. This passer-by was by no means, well-intended. 

He runs his fingers lazily through his hair, chuckling into the darkness, “Is that so?” He remarks simply, tilting his head downwards, letting his fringe fall over and back into place.

“Interesting insight you’ve got there mister... what might your name be?” He inquires lightheartedly as he shrugs his slightly off kilter coat snugly back into place, fingers busily straightening the collar. “I wouldn’t be surprised if those buffoons knocked themselves out actually. Intoxication has people doing odd things. Too much drink is never good.” 

These wicked games that Jennie hosts had once started out asher way of avenging her father’s death, but it didn’t take long for her tobecome fully addicted to it. And the thing about Jennie is the second she forms an obsession for something—or someone—she is akin to a rabid dog that sinks its fangs into it and never lets it go. Jennie likens her games to that of computing: it had once been a way to bond with her favourite person on planet Earth—perhaps the only other person who could ever compete is her dear sister—but soon, she had cradled it in her arms  and declared it hers.

And if she were honest with herself, perhaps the entire reason why she fell in love with her games is because they are so unlike every other game: that is, that her gamers do not abide by some binary code. And just like computing, Jennie begins to fall in love with the challenge, tries to look for patterns even though there is none.

But now, she fears she’s finally outsmarted the system,because here is a man who behaves so much like all the other men her mother isassociated with: they are too eager, too easy,and there is only ever one thing on their mind.

(But she supposes that shouldn’t be surprisingly, given that the one thing all of them have in common is their association to a whore.)

How dull and predictable.

The glint in her feline eyes brighten as he offers up his undivided attention on a silver platter, and she cannot stop the smirk from growing on her red lips as she entertains the drink that is placed in front other, her dainty fingers lazily stirring the drink with a lone olive. She doesn’t intend to drink it, of course: Jennie’s mutation requires her to always be fully conscious, or risk having her mind hacked into and shut down. It is why she invests so much on energy drinks and coffee, and why she is often found shutting off the stream of melatonin that soaks her brain as a last resort.

“Long year, actually. Things are getting increasingly tough at work, and somehow, I’m still bored as I’ll ever be. Nothing ever excites me anymore,” she says after a beat and a sigh, her words carrying more weight than anyone could ever understand. But she supposes it matters not, because if it were up to her, he’d be dead come weekend. Her view that was fixated on the drink in front of her finally shifts to his face, and her eyelashes flutter as what seems to be a sarcastic smirk dons her lips, “I don’t suppose you’d be able to save me from my misery?”

And with that, she leans in closer and daringly rests her hand on his clothed thigh.

The buzz of the lady’s electricity is simply delectable, and Jaehyun drinks it in, letting the shivering sensation wash over him. There was a dark intensity brooding behind that sweet, sweet smile of his; behind those lightening chocolate eyes – in the lighting, those polished irises would’ve look almost golden, celestial, inhuman. 

As delightful as the lady’s presence was, it doesn’t take long for Jaehyun to settle into the spirited crackles of her electricity that overwhelmed and drowned out every other source ( not that it mattered to him, her’s was a gourmet compared to everyone else in this fanciful café ). After all, if Jaehyun is anything, he is self-controlled. As soon as the initial buzz simmers down the slightest, he reins himself in further, settling for simple appreciation. Her presence was good enough – for now. 

Head clearer and thoughts reorganised, he looks at the lady. Actually looks at her for the first time, taking in her appearance – her blood red lips, overly made up face, decidedly mature fashion taste. Pretty woman. 

Pretty. But also trying a little too hard. No amount of make up could hide those tender, young features of a lady just entering womanhood. Perhaps he’s wrong, for these days it’s not uncommon for women to take better ‘care’ of themselves. Youth, after all, was a prized commodity in this day and age. But for the girl to be trying so hard to appear more mature than she was, it was unlikely that was the case here. 

“Is that so?” He remarks smoothly, running a finger along the length of his bottom lip, that amicable grin still plastered on in place. Years of practising in front of a mirror meant he could smile for an eternity and it would always look genuine, as with every other expression on his repertoire. Once, they had all been genuine, but like the innocence of childhood, it’d all faded leaving nothing behind but a shell. But oh, what a well kept shell it was. Mother didn’t like her son fake, and he never was until she said so. But he’d play the good son. She didn’t like him fake, but would she have wanted him genuine? ( I don’t think so. ) 

The lady is so very forthright, and so very dramatic too he finds. And he can’t help the chuckle that slips past his slightly parted lips. Was she flirting? Yes, she decidedly was. He’s charmed. Just the slightest.

Cute. The little foxy curve of the lady’s lips was parts attractive, parts amusing. It reminded him a little of Jaehee’s impish smirk whenever she was up to no good ( little devil she’d been ). It reminded him of the reflections dancing off darkened windows and shattered beer bottle he occasionally caught glimpses of as he strolls down the back alleys of the city when there’s nothing to do but walk. It reminds him a little of him.

The hushed tapping of his fingers on the smooth bar top abruptly halt at the unexpected physical contact. Intimate physical contact. His blood is set ablaze as her energy seeps into his personal sphere, fiery drops of life bleeding into his skin, into his being. How very BOLD of her. 

Now it’s his turn to play coy, a smirk of his own gracing his features. 

“Rather direct aren’t you?” He chuckles, a hand moving down to curl lightly around her wrist as he lifts it up and away from his thigh. While he’s at it, he indulges himself just the slightest by leeching off her electricity, coaxing it over and away from her core and towards his. Her vitality mingling with his, becoming his. She had more than enough electricity to spare anyways. Plus, it was a good trade off, no? She wanted him. Clearly. So he’d let her play with him for a bit in exchange for a bit of her. 

oh yeah, he forgot about that. for some reason jaehyung’s mind had zeroed in to so much yet he blatantly ignores the obvious. that seems about right. of course he quickly takes jaehyun’s phone and instantly types in his number with blazing speed. quickly he pulls out his old iphone 5s from his back pocket and hands it to the other.

“whoops! got distracted~ with a head like mine sometimes i amaze myself with stuff that i miss. but, hey, it’s just part of me!” he laughs though on the inside he is dying of embarrassment. oh god he is just dying. maybe if he acts now he can just avoid all of his trauma for the rest of his life. this will replay before he falls asleep for the rest of his life. this is his curse. he will live with it until he dies.

“you look really nice though, did you just come from your work? damn man i’d kill to get into a nice job that has me dressing fancy as fuck. i would work those lapels.” he laughs as he takes in jaehyun’s dressier attire. he likes it, it fits jaehyun in a weird way. of course maybe if he had a cool accessory or even an ear piercing it would really give jaehyun this ‘edgy’ but professional look. maybe he can convince jaehyun to get lobe piercings. he doubts it’ll work but maybe they’ll work up to that.

he gets his phone back and instantly spots an angel-in-us. it has decent coffee but even better lemonade, jaehyung is practically addicted to both. so he drags jaehyun inside because this coffee franchise usually has cushy couches for people to sit on, which is always a bonus. jae loves comfy couches.

they get in and there’s a small line that he doesn’t mind waiting in. “how do you take your coffee hyung? i can pay~” 

Jaehyung was one of the few individuals in his life that he found genuinely endearing. Perhaps it was the simplicity of the man, how simple he was with his kindness, his compliments, his actions, his words; he could appreciate simplicity. Simple, predictable, but also kind and personable. Or perhaps it’s simply because Jaehyung was one of the very, very few of the almost non-existent ties he had with his distant past – the past that he’d mostly erased and concealed from anyone and everyone beyond that timeline ( it’ll be our little secret mother ). 

The man was a bright and sweet memory in a sea of memories that drowned each other out, blurring and fading away as each day passed – there’s not much Jaehyun cares to reminiscent about these days in terms of sentimental memories.  

He can’t help smile affectionately at the younger male like how he would an excitable pup ( Jaehyung might as well have been one ). 

Knowing the man, he should’ve expected the guy to return the compliment, but he didn’t, and it somewhat catches him off guard – blood rushing to his ears, reddening their tips. “Oh, erm, thanks,” He chuckles sheepishly, awkwardly scratching his neck. Yup, he definitely feels self-conscious now, as well as ridiculously overdressed. “Actually, I came from school...” Definitely overdressed. “There was a student union meeting with the deans and heads though?” He continues hesitantly, as though trying to find an excuse his choice of wardrobe. 

Sheepishness aside, he allows Jaehyung to lead the way, compliantly allowing the man to half-drag him into the coffee shop of his choice without a sliver of complain. 

Stumbling into line behind the male, he straightens himself up, glancing over at the sleek ebony menu hanging above the counter top. “Hmm... I prefer teas. Anything you’d recommend?”