red blue light

(...)

     he looks at his watch, and lets out a small sigh, unbothered, the smile still on his face as if he just hasn’t made a ‘vague’ threat. “i’ll be going then. i wish luck to you mr. rhee. may the best candidate win, for our community of course.” without even attempting a handshake, he leaves the office, meeting kiyoung’s eyes after he does so. the second part of the plan is about to begin, and it’s a lot more about the target’s behaviour this time.

kiyoung is entranced as he watches haneul work. he’s an architect, he creates and he’s damn good at it and because of this job, kiyoung’s had to learn how to trick people into believing whatever he wants them to believe. it’s not an easy feat, it takes a lot of knowledge on how to work your words, how to stitch together sentences and a particular tone of voice to almost act like the pied piper, luring unaware victims into his trap. he had been terrible at it at first, always ended up getting himself killed during training solely because he failed at keeping up the charade for long. it’d been practice, being pushed into the field without mastering this skill in particular, that had taught kiyoung how to play with others’ thoughts and emotions enough so to have them not only seek his advice but believe every word that leaves his mouth. haneul though- he’s a natural at this. a trickster, easily seducing people with his words and with his actions. pushing them against a corner and offering them no other option but the one he wants them to follow. kiyoung strongly believes no one should feel ashamed of being played by haneul for it takes a massive amount of inner strength to be able to fight back the insecurities that he’s able to plant in their head.

however, kiyoung’s never been in the receiving end of this. years of friendship, years of companionship, of- of whatever this is, has made haneul respect and care for him enough so that kiyoung doesn’t even fear he’s going to be a victim in the other man’s hands. the amount of trust could be overbearing – is, some nights, when he’s left only to a bottle of wine and his own thoughts -, but there’s not going back now, not that kiyoung would want to lose the other’s presence in his life. he’s been there once, years of not having him by his side, and he’s not remotely keen on experience that sort of living once more.

and so he watches, as an excitable spectator, to the show unfolding in front of him. his eyes drift away from haneul’s face only so they can study the other man’s reactions, properly see the fear evident in his eyes. he’s so transparent with his emotions it makes it clear to kiyoung he’s hardly a threat – it’s clear his subconscious hasn’t been trained to deal with this type of invasion him and haneul are doing. if, for even a moment, kiyoung had considered that they’d be faced with some sort of struggle, now it’s confirmed to him that this is going to be one of their easiest jobs. perhaps it should terrify him, how little resistance a politician can give to having his mind played with, but kiyoung’s not about to complain at having his job made easier by the lack of general belief in the field of dream-sharing.

he also watches as the man breaks once haneul is out. kiyoung thinks it’s pitiful, how little respect and poise the other has to be falling apart in front of a complete stranger, only because of another stranger’s unfounded threats. he suppresses the urge to roll his eyes – it’s definitely not this type of man who should be running a city anyway. what should i do, the question snaps kiyoung back into the task at hand, and he forces down the smile that threatens to break on his face. ridiculous. “why don’t i pour you some tea?” kiyoung proposes, standing up and crossing the room towards the table that holds the teapot and the cups. “you don’t have to stress yourself over this, we can manage to fix this situation still.” he brings the drink over to the man, choosing to lean against the desk instead of taking a seat on the other side.

“there’s a way,” he starts his suggestion, cutting himself off when the man looks up at him, expectantly. “oh, but it’d be too dangerous. i’m sure you wouldn’t want to risk it.” the man begs, would probably fall to his knees if he didn’t have the slightest amount of dignity left, and there’s a chuckle that almost slips from kiyoung’s mouth. “alright, but you’re going to have to trust me,” he walks towards the door, opening it so he can beckon jinwoo with the PASIV. the other is momentarily reluctant to have the device hooked into him, but a few reassuring words from kiyoung are enough to ease the despair and force the candidate to relax. kiyoung pushes the button to release the sedative first and moves towards the window that leaves the room at view of the rest of the floor, to roll down the blinds. he meets haneul’s eyes there and winks, beckoning the man back into the office once more.

𝙹𝙰𝙽𝙶 𝙺𝙸𝚈𝙾𝚄𝙽𝙶 && 𝚂𝙾𝙽𝙶 𝙷𝙰𝙽𝙴𝚄𝙻 | ‎장기영 / ‎송하늘 ( @altcrlife​. )

(...)

it did not matter how much clara made them aware of her inexperience with men, or how much she wanted ms whistle to go in her place, they had put her into a stolen dress and shoved her into leslie whistle’s makeup chair without another word. of course, looking around the opulent after party of kasper leman’s latest success, she did not feel out of place. 

standing demurely by the bar, young clara sipped at the dainty looking cocktail with the sweetest flavour, glancing around for any sign of the man with the captivating eyes. no doubt surrounded by his usual gaggle of admirers, clara tried her best not to dwell in the inferiority that bloomed in her heart; for the small barmaid could hardly compete with all the noble beauties and vivacious young things of the night. 

kasper leman hadn’t always been an actor. he had been pushed into this, into developing skills in an art form that he had known very little about. originally, he was an acrobat – an aerial one. his body fluidly moving as he perched himself on fabric hanging from the ceiling. from an young age that was what he had been taught to do, to create an spectacle in the sky, without being afraid when he looked down and saw how high he was. as a child kasper had been scared of falling and breaking his leg or his neck, but his mother had been diligent in her teaching, thorough to the point of leading the boy into believing that the ground wasn’t where he belonged.

but that was in the past. now, the passion of his life was no longer one he was allowed to have – a royal decree, all but making circuses illegal, had put an end to the dream he had of performing to the most important people in the country, of making his art known. now, kasper belonged to the stage, to the becoming of new characters every other night. to the writing of plays – something he failed miserably at – in the hopes that people’s interest might be enough to keep the whole troupe afloat. he had taken the position of the leader, the one responsible for the future of the entire group, and kasper knew they all counted on him to make things right.

it was difficult, for the audience was never big enough to compensate all their expenses. they were failing, and failing hard at that, and it was kasper’s responsibility to find a way out of this situation. he had been made aware of the presence of an heiress in the audience tonight. someone with too much money and too little distractions, that perhaps would be willing to invest in their group should she find the right… reasons. he wasn’t naturally alluring, but kasper knew he had no other option but to use whatever charms he could muster in order to attract the woman’s attention.

he kept his eyes on her throughout the performance, watching the box where he’d been warned she’d be at. from the distance, he couldn’t discern her features all that well, but the dress she was wearing was hard to miss. and it was precisely the outfit kasper sought once at the after party, easily catching sight of her sitting at the bar.

(...)

She opened the door and froze.

Then she proceeded to squeal.

“I’m so sorry!” Eunji screamed, immediately closing the door. She had just laid another woman underneath her wearing…. nothing? She leaned on the door, her hear beating quite quickly from shock and taking deep breaths to calm herself. “I didn’t even see a sock what the heck–” Eunji said, totally confused. 

( @altcrlife )

University proved to be a lot more work than Nari expected. Due to the tales of her older friends, she had expected something a lot easier and much, much more parties. Of course, they still happened, but she couldn’t actually go, because she was too busy with her classes. The schedule was hectic and because she had to keep straight As in order to keep her parents – and herself – happy, she Nari wasn’t allowed to slack off. So instead of going to parties, instead of having the fun she expected to have, she had to lock herself in her shared bedroom and study her ass off.

Hooking up also became twenty times more complicated when she wasn’t attending parties where she could meet people, but it didn’t mean it was impossible.

Because the princess wasn’t one to go to parties either, Nari couldn’t bring someone around during the weeks, so she took to memorizing Eunji’s schedule. That way she knew when the girl would be in class and therefore when she could bring someone around without the possibility of it becoming an issue. And she would, every other day, have someone over. Sometimes it was people she met in her classes, other people she was introduced to, but she’d also resort to tinder whenever the situation was complicated. And it worked.

The girl she had under her was someone she met through the app. Nari wasn’t entirely sure about her name, but it was something like Mina. Or Rina? All she knew was that the girl was Japanese and a really good kisser. Nari was quick to remove all of the girl’s clothes and her own as well. She was kissing her way down the other’s front, almost reaching the point she wanted… When the door was opened and someone was shrieking.

“Shit,” Nari was going to kill Eunji, because Mina (or Rina) was quick to fumble for her clothes and to put them on, without even wanting to listen to Nari’s apologies. It was a tell that the girl was probably straight – or thought she was – and just wanted to try it out to see if having sex with a girl was fun, but couldn’t handle the idea of someone else being aware of her sexual proclivities. Before Nari could say much, she was already storming off, Eunji standing outside looking like she’d just experienced the most traumatizing situation of her life.

(...)

     what can he say ? that hyungseok is his boss ? or that he’s on a date ? all of those statements hold some part of the truth, albeit small. the man used to be his boss at some point while he worked at a bar, but labeling him as his boss seems too superficial, far from what he is now. and the truth itself clearly isn’t going to fall under the ’good explanation’ category. “i —” he starts before he stops himself, avoiding eye contact as he tries to find something to say. he wrings his hands behind his back, still not advancing further into the room. after yet another pause, he simply shrugs, and he is sure the shame and panic is easy to spot in his entire frame. that’s what he is, after all, caught in the middle of something he shouldn’t be doing, something that he never wanted the boys to learn about. and further he lies, it seems it’s going to make sungho even angrier, though truth will probably cause the same reaction as well. “i’m on a date.” the latter is what he decides to go with, his words quiet, tentative before he looks up to see sungho’s reaction.

               it takes eunwoo long enough to arrive that sungho starts believing the boy isn’t coming around. if his patience was already thin and not to be tested with, it gets worse with every passing second. he doesn’t understand why he’s so angry about this situation – he knows the reason, but he doesn’t understand why it bothers him as much as it does. during the time he spend there, waiting for eunwoo to either show up or text him that they are going to talk about it when they are home, sungho tries to push away his traitorous and unwelcome thoughts, the ones that shouldn’t be swimming around his head and forcing him to consider things he’d much rather pretend don’t exist. it’s inevitable, though, that images of the night him and eunwoo spend together come back to his head, and he wonders – was eunwoo already doing this back then? was it sungho that pushed him into doing it? but then again, that’s giving himself far too much credit for nothing at all. what is sex, amongst the boys? something all of them do. it’s not a big deal.

               (maybe to him it wasn’t a big deal, sungho’s mind supplies, because you know, after denying him so much, that it was one hell of a deal to you)

               when eunwoo does show up, sungho’s anger momentarily fades. the other looks scared, terrified even, of what sungho might say, of how he might react to his words. that’s something he never wanted – his boys, he doesn’t want them to fear him. it’s enough that everybody else does. he’s rough around the edges and can manage to be rude beyond measure, depending on the situation, but he doesn’t want them to be afraid of him. he doesn’t want eunwoo to be afraid and to think sungho would do something to hurt him, because sungho could never. even in his angriest state, he wouldn’t lay a hand on eunwoo, no matter how much rationality failed him in those moments.

               the feeling is back, however, at the answer the boy gives him. sungho doesn’t appreciate being lied to, and he doesn’t need to be a genius to know that’s exactly what eunwoo’s doing at the moment. the anger crawls under his skin and sungho has to tighten his grip on the sink and force his eyes closed – he doesn’t want to lash out, doesn’t want him to think sungho is going to hurt him, but it’s so damn difficult to push your feelings down when they are not constantly present in the first place. “why the fuck do you think it’s a good idea to lie to me?” sungho hisses through his teeth, tone more threatening than he intended it to be. was it anyone else, literally anyone else, sungho wouldn’t have been as careful with his words, would have lashed out and not try to hold his anger at bay. but it’s eunwoo, too soft for the world he’s in, too soft to deserve the shit life keeps throwing at him. sungho doesn’t want to add to it, even if it’s against everything he believes in.

(...)

“she finally got the sales spot she’s been eyeing for ages.” he could feel a small smile form, and he doesn’t hide this one. this woman he talks fondly of is the woman that has fed both of them when they were children up until this point on. she’s their secret from the world they live in and she might just be the only person outside of mincheol’s life that he likes. she had managed to see something in them in order for her to help and whatever it was that she saw (maybe it was just because she was not exactly sane), he knows he’s in debt to her for a lifetime.

sungho is extremely grateful mincheol doesn’t bring it up. he knows it’s a subject that is going to become recurrent between the kids, knows that most likely he’s going to be questioned, at one point, by one of them, and he’s glad that one person is not mincheol. not that he actually expected the older man to press him for answers on a subject he doesn’t think he’s even capable of talking about, but the reassurance that this is not going to become a thing between them unless it’s sungho the one to bring it up is something he clings to. it’s why he’s chosen to see mincheol first, why he didn’t want his parents to pick him up – or worse, one of the kids. sungho needs his time to get his shit together before he starts dealing with unwanted questions.

he climbs into the car, tossing his bag on the backseat and buckling his seat belt. everything he does now it’s with a precision that wasn’t present in his movements before. sungho’s always been a bit of a neat freak, someone who can’t stand to see things not being properly done, but he used to poke fun at it more so than get to it. now? he’s methodical, analytical. he notices the smallest things and finds it difficult to pretend they aren’t there. he goes through the procedure of scanning the entire car with his eyes searching for any type of weapon or wire hanging, even though sungho acknowledges he’s probably the most dangerous thing inside. “that’s two too many, but alright. i just hope they don’t have eunchan’s mouth.” the man comments once he’s done searching – it’s unnecessary, he knows, because mincheol is the last person that’d hurt sungho, but it’s inevitable.

seoyoon is still new. sungho knows what that implies beyond the fact that he’s probably the one that’s joined them most recently. he’s either sheltered or a moron – he either doesn’t know how things work on the streets or is reckless to the point of not caring and risking his own life and the others’. sungho reckons he’s bound to find out. he doesn’t question it further, smoking his cigarette until there’s nothing left but the filter and tossing that out of the window. he doesn’t need to ask to know where mincheol is taking them and he can’t deny his excitement – sungho is starving, and the food stall they go together, only the two of them, is always a place with good food.

he follows mincheol out and into the street market, nodding his assent at the other’s words. sungho’s genuinely happy for the old lady – she’s been more or less taking care of the two of them since he left his home and joined mincheol in this ridiculous journey. she fed them and made sure they were healthy, and consequently she’s become one of the very few people sungho can stand and is happy to be around of. “i hope she’s missed enough to give me extra food,” sungho jokes, tone still even, but a smirk showing up on his face. it’s not a true smile, neither is it too humorous, but it’s the most he can bring himself to share at the moment.

(...)

it doesn’t take long before they reach what appears to be some sort of antique shop, pale multicolored bricks making up its the exterior. nalin turns to the other, unable to conceal her excitement.“so,” she adjusts her hat so that it doesn’t fall over her eyes, meeting insu’s starry gaze, “care to tell me what we’re doing here?” there’s a musical lilt to her voice, lighter than her regular cadence. she wouldn’t be surprised if eighth and quarter notes began to flow from her mouth.

ever since he was allowed to leave the academy where he’d trained practically since birth, insu had established only one pace for himself – fast. it’s probably ridiculous for someone bound to live for as long as he will that he keeps going at the highest speed possible, but it’s become second nature by now. he meets up with five, six clients in a single morning giving them only the attention and time necessary to clear things out before he’s out of the door and moving to the next one. the amount he can get done in a day is astounding and it’s very often that he gets complimented for it.

nalin makes him want to go slower, though. especially when she looks at him the way she does when she puts a flower behind his ear. he wants to savor this type of moment, in a way he never thought he’d want to. and this idea is absolutely terrifying for someone who’s lived as long as he has, that someone who’s barely been in his life is already making him want to change who he is.

there are words that want to slip from his mouth – a sarcastic comment about how that’s nonsense for insu always looks his best – but it fades before he can let it out, too busy still looking at the girl’s face in wonder. insu goes as far as start walking without really noticing where he’s going, and it’s only nalin’s words that bring him back to reality.

“not another world, just… a better configuration of the one you were already in,” better for humans, certainly. yeah, alyia is wonderful in every sense of the word, but insu’s seen more, so much more, that it takes a very particularly extraordinary place to pull even the slightest of reactions from the wizard. “you’ll get used to the freedom, my dear. one day you won’t be as amazed as you are,” it’s his pessimistic streak speaking louder, for if it was in insu’s hands, he’d never let the flame in nalin’s eyes fade. he’d keep it warm and present forever.

once she’s back on his side, insu offers her his arm so she can hook her hand on his elbow as he guides her towards the antique shop. “ah, yes, an old friend of mine works here,” insu offers, adjusting the collar of his jacket and fixing his hair. “she’s been sick for a few years and, every once in a while, i drop by to bring her a potion that helps her go on with her day. in exchange, she gives me trinkets – stones that don’t have any real commercial value, but with so much history attached to them that they are just perfect for amulets.” insu turns to nalin with a serious look on his face “don’t stare at her face, she’s very sensitive about the scar.”

(...)

“alright then, guess i’ll leave the goddamn kitchen,” eunchan decides, a sensible sort of decision given what sungho just told him, really. shoves himself forward to hop off the counter, turns toward the direction of the door. 

from the moment eunchan had joined them, sungho had known the boy would be a lot of trouble, perhaps more than he was worth. he was easily pissy and always in a mood, but sungho could return him like a product in the super market – if anything because it’d mean having to give eunwoo back as well, and the other twin he could deal with, he was fond of. not to mention, mincheol found eunchan’s presence too entertaining, like a kid who had found the perfect doll for him to play with. sungho pretended not to notice or care for the way his best friend treated others, treated eunchan. that’s probably unfair and selfish of him, but as much as he likes to pretend not to be under mincheol’s spell, he knows the older man has considerable influence over his actions.

so most of the time sungho endures eunchan. sometimes the boy is entertaining – very often those times happen when they are not having sex, but eunchan does have his charms and ways of getting even sungho to not mind his presence. when he’s being a brat, however, sungho wonders if it really wouldn’t have been a good idea to return him to the streets before it was too late for that decision to be made. “i don’t give a fuck, use your money to buy healthier stuff before your insides rot and your teeth fall off,” when he’s giving lectures like this one, he understands why the boys believe he can be a type of mother figure. the kick against his hip is far weaker than eunchan actually thinks it is – or it’s really that sungho’s had much, much worse – and he doesn’t even flinch. it makes him wonder if the overall lack of response, besides his words, annoy eunchan even more. “sounding more and more like the spoiled brat you are.”

and eunchan’s next words make sungho’s statement even more of a true one. it can be infuriating, sometimes, dealing with an overgrown kid whose arguments are based on childish stubbornness. it used to piss sungho off consistently, and even amuse him at times, but now he mostly thinks it’s sad that not even the span of two years had seen eunchan grow more into the adult he actually is. if sungho dives even deeper into that, he feels a sense of dread, scared for what might happen to the boy when he has this type of reaction around people who aren’t going to handle him with as much patience as they do, without someone there to back him up. eunchan is an idiot and his idiot tendencies are going to put him into some serious fucking danger one day, and sungho won’t be around to protect him.

whereas the petty comments barely pull any sort of reaction from him, eunchan deciding that storming out of the kitchen is a good option has sungho moving. he turns off the stove, spatula tossed in the sink. eunchan can be fast when he wants, but sungho is faster, and he grabs the younger boy’s wrist, stopping him from walking out. as short as he is, the man has always been strong, and the time in the marines had given him the capacity of knowing how to use his strength. it’s ridiculously easy to pull eunchan closer and push him against the counter. there was once a day the height difference even between the shortest of the boys and him would embarrass sungho, but he’s learned what to do when in situations like this.

At this point, Eunji could feel her face getting even redder, which she didn’t know was possible. Her family was definitely more on the traditional side. They never approved of homosexuality and the like. They always condemned it and talked about how it was a disgrace. And growing up with an environment like that can really shape the way you see things. 

But in all honesty, Eunji didn’t see it as something disgusting. In fact, if she were to be honest, she was even intrigued. But she never acted upon that feeling or voiced it out to anyone, always worried that someone could  read her mind and tell her how wrong it was. She was also known in her family as being a bit of the black sheep. Compared to her older sister, she was more the rebellious one who would not follow her parent’s beliefs. Which is why she sometimes hated being associated with them, but it couldn’t be helped. 

“O-Oh.” Eunji said, coughing. “That’s up to you, then.” she continued on. “I’m not… Homophobic.” she continued, defending herself. “But i would appreciate if you didn’t use such… Language.” she continued on, finally finished with unpacking her stuff. “Just, try to inform me before you do any of that, okay?” Eunji said. “Because in the end of the day, you know, we’re sharing a room. So I’d appreciate if you would tell me those kind of stuff and I’ll inform you when I have people over as well.” she said, because even if she didn’t have the best impression of Nari, she knew that they were stuck together. So she decided that right now she could definitely try to tolerate her and just mind her own business. But also she hoped Nari didn’t notice how she was most definitely rambling from talking about stuff like that. “Do we have a deal?” Eunji said, finally looking at Nari with her hand out, hoping that they could shake on it. 

For a moment, Nari thought she saw a glimpse of something akin to interested in the other girl’s face, but she decided it was nothing more than her projecting her minimal interest on Eunji – because of course it existed. Nari was just a girl. A very bisexual, very sexually active girl who often had thoughts about some people that she knew she shouldn’t, but couldn’t help. It wasn’t her fault that the princess was attractive – Nari had known for years that the other was attractive. It was a regal type of beauty, elegant. Certainly appropriate for the girl’s position and very much Nari’s type. If she was a hundred percent sure her advances wouldn’t be rejected and if, you know, they didn’t share a room, she was sure that at one point she’d have tried to meet the girl and flirt with her a bit.

Having had a glimpse of her personality and being almost certain that the other was as straight as a board, Nari now knew that was the most ridiculous thought she’d ever had.

(...)

     the only hope he has is that maybe sungho hasn’t seen him or the man he is with, that maybe the other is too busy with his own evening to pay eunwoo much mind. even the thought of talking about this afterwards makes eunwoo nauseous, he does not like that one bit. at the question that comes from hyungseok, he puts on another smile, much more fake this time — but he has also learned how to act better lately. it is more than enough to fool the other. through that, he just prays that sungho won’t notice — there is nothing else he can do.

              the boys make fun of the clothes sungho wears – perhaps not always to his face, but he’s not an idiot. he knows they don’t understand the necessity of always looking sharp. ever since he’s come back from the marine corps, sungho’s replaced the uniform for the button up shirts, tailored pants and pristine suits. his hair is, most of the time, combed and coiffed meticulously. the scent of a strong but pleasant cologne follows him around. his pierced ears decorated with expensive looking earrings, while the rings on his fingers show off not only an image of richness, but also of power. sungho is not that rich – he can afford some nice things, though -, but he has an image to sell and he does his best to stick to it.

               it’s because of moments like this, sitting in one of the most expensive restaurants in town, sharing a meal with a man whose glare warns everybody around him not to test him. sungho knew him before – before he went away, before he chose to submit himself to the worst experience of his life -, back when his attitude had almost made the man decide to cancel their negotiations and go for some other drug dealer instead of this boy who thought he was anything. it was then that sungho’s capacity of influencing someone into putting a gun in their own mouth had come to play. he’d secured a deal and a client who’d still be willing to go back to his graces after years of sungho being gone.

               for anyone who’s looking they are going to assume it’s an employee having dinner with his employer – pushing it, it might be a son having dinner with his father. in fact, sungho and his client are negotiating a new price for the coke sungho sells him. a company discount, according to his words, since the amount he’s buying is bigger than the usual for him to share with the other board members of his company. sungho might be young, but he’s not stupid. he doesn’t lower prices because it’s a bulk order – if he did, he wouldn’t have reached the has in so little time. in fact, the boy is partially offended that the older man even assumed he would be willing to do so.

               his face a mask of indifference, sungho stops paying attention to what the man is saying. it’s not that big of a deal, since he’s far too in love with the sound of his own voice to even notice. the boy’s gaze drift away from the man’s face, languidly scanning the restaurant and the people in it. he’s not truly paying attention and if it weren’t for the other boy’s image being painted to the back of his eyelids, sungho wouldn’t have noticed eunwoo sitting there, eyes looking straight at sungho himself. he’s like a deer caught in headlights, like a kid who knows they are in trouble because they got caught doing something they shouldn’t.

               and indeed there’s something extremely suspicious about eunwoo’s presence here. if not for the fact that the restaurant is way out of the boys’ budget, for the man sitting across from him, his back facing sungho. the raven haired man doesn’t need too much time to figure out, to finally understand why eunwoo goes missing so often without explanation. he’d let his thoughts drift to that possibility one, but he hadn’t wanted to accept that the younger boy would actually subject himself to something like that. sungho has no claim on him, no power over him – and not that he’d want to, especially when the only reference of control he has in his life is the one mincheol exercises over the other boys -, but the realization still makes his blood boil.

               sungho forces a smile to his face, looking back at this client and excusing himself for a moment. he walks towards the bathroom – thankful that the restaurant had thought to make an individual room rather than one big one with stalls - pulling out his phone and shooting eunwoo a quick text. meet me in the bathroom. now. it’s all it says and when sungho goes to shove it back in his pocket, he notices his hands are shaking. he pushes the bathroom door with far more strength than necessary, moving straight towards the sink so he can throw some water on his face and attempt to calm down. when he hears the door opening again, sungho looks up and is only slightly surprised to see the fury in his eyes.