é h o n t é e

( ’ she’s saying that and pressing her palm against his chest, shoving him backwards only out of the light upsetting feeling that he’s hit it so right. frustrating, really, she would show it fully so if it isn’t also for the fact that she’s now catching up on what day today is, like he’s saying it and she’s realising it. remembering all the warnings her mother gave her about not forgetting and making it on time today to get ready to head out to his workplace. it sits there in the back of her mind while her eyes widen slightly before she’s blinking. ) well, I am dead, that’s it. Mom’s killing me today. It’s not like everyone has a super memory, and it’s never been important, I mean it’s not like before last week I was even considering even celebrating it—no offense but it’s just y’know, I’m all in it for the chocolate but the other stuff.

( ehontee​ )   FISTS&FURY&SASH.

His tone of voice suggest that it could be a joke but this isn’t a manner in which he’s kidding around. If he gets trouble her boss is going to be in a body bag floating down a river. So he let his temper get the worst of him. What’s done is done at this point. If someone kicked up a fuss about it he’d just let them know that it could’ve been worse. He could’ve killed her. He wanted to, but he didn’t want to explain why he was yet again banned from another hotel. He hadn’t even hit twenty-one and the list was starting to get a little long. How much trouble could a nineteen year old kick up before someone caught onto it. In his case it was a lot. He didn’t want to add onto that by turning that a lot into a big ball of suspicion. He was barely hanging on by a thread as it was. His saving grace? His age. No one thought a nineteen year old kid capable of the stunts the famed Lee family enforcer pulled. Jaehwa wanted to keep it that way.

"There are plenty of solutions I could offer but you won’t make it through 90% of them. So either I do this my way or I’m going to leave you in here to die." He’s got no time for fear and where someone else might baby her and talk her through it — Jaehwa is just itching for a cigarette. Though he can’t deny the appeal of setting her skin ablaze in order to cauterize the wound. "Or I can dump you at the nearest hospital. Your choice. You’ve got five seconds." 

It just wasn't going to work. Death was not the only way to get a revenge, she'd learned that from experience. She knew a thing or two about getting through people without having to actually use her fists. As unbelievable as it was until they actually faced it and saw it for themselves. Then there he went again, assuming that she wouldn't be able to handle whatever other options were listed on the table and even if a truth could be heard in what he'd said, still it made her roll her eyes. Made her ignore the drop of sweat that were starting to make themselves known against her skin.

She made herself swallow the bile that the thought of the needle had put there in her throat, and thanked the intervention of the knocks because it got him out of the bathroom. Long enough for her to roll down the end of her jogging so that it covered the wound again and to rise from the edge of the tub. She was not going to let him fix it. He'd undone it, but she wouldn't let him fix it. It was a sudden certitude, but it was there. Not just the fear of the needles but also this tingling feeling that she didn't want him to be the one to do it. She kept quiet, no because he'd shushed her but because she was busying herself, gathering her bag from the floor of the room and anything else she'd left all other the place, jacket, coat, boots that were right by the side of the bed. It looked as messy as her mind had been a moment ago.

A contrast to how clear it felt right now, breathing in the words that sunk in the back of her mind, Should have done that hours ago. She agreed, so she took a breath and made her way to the door. Her eyes catching the sight of something rolling, her eyes catching the sound but she was making her way past it without paying much attention to it. She didn't want to. She had a throb in her leg, a wound that was begging her to just be put together, be whole again. and so even if it stung, it would sting while knowing it would be flesh that was bound and not undone. 

"Damn assholes,"his hoarsely voice cracked from exhaustion, as he gathered his strength to turn around and walk down the now empty street,away from his hiding spot. Junmyeon had hoped he’d never have to ask for help again, especially not when it came to reporters but apparently, got some kind of sick from following him to the Cemetery and taking pictures. And now he was finding himself in a similar situation as many weeks, months, years ago. Upon spotting a person, one he literally didn’t know and frankly, didn’t want to get to know either he figured that this could be his chance to get away from all the shit that was literally following him.

Yes she was, because she'd felt like it. If she felt like it, she had to do it, a principle she went by ever since she was a little and she was not about to get rid of just because winter was here and her craving for ice cream had to be stopped because winter was here. Winter could suck it, Lee Haeri wanted to have her ice cream during its time. But she was then interrupted from taking her second spoon, a voice, or a question, it had her turning around--spoon held up in the air and blinking at the man. He looked quite out of his element, but then again he was telling her that he was getting away from people and it was understandable then--as to why he did not look to be in a right mood. Whatever a right mood was, she'll assume it was a mood that did not put her on edge or made her want to grind her teeth the way she almost did now.

the person he was scheduled to meet tonight had yet to come, and in the meanwhile, he was checking through their contract one last time. the document was handwritten, as was his custom, rather than typed and printed with an encrypted back-up file stored on a protected computer system. call him old-fashioned ( and perhaps overcautious, too ), but he didn’t trust technology, and cyberspace in particular, where everything was exposed to the risk of being discovered & traced & obtained. in addition, there was the chance of the attack coming from inside the organization, with classified information slowly leaked little by little until nobody was capable of counteracting the damage when the treachery was detected — whereas keeping manuscripts granted him the advantage of strictly controlling who was permitted to know what details. certainly he could afford some highly skilled hackers to secure his network ; then again, no matter how good his employees were, better & determined enthusiasts would always exist, waiting to be put to good use by his resourceful rivals.

needless to say, the same reason lay behind his preference for arranging face-to-face meetings, not to mention they also allowed him to learn more of his partners and thus decide whether or not to maintain connections with them.

silence filled the place as it had been completely cleared out two hours prior and put under heavy guard due to the illegal nature of the discussion, the only sounds audible was generated by the pages turning, the ticking of his watch, the steady heaving of his chest and the faint chatting of his subordinates in the background. a few moments passed by, the arrival of the female and the echoes of her footsteps finally interrupted the stillness of the environment.

                                                   ” long time no see, sash. take your seat,                                                       and      make     yourself      at     home. "

thin lips stretched into friendly smile as to greet the new presence, and he put the folder down onto the empty chair next to him, gesturing for a waitress to fill their glasses with liquor and to gradually serve the dishes. despite her young age, the girl was guaranteed of efficiency & innovation, hence she had quickly made it into his list of favorite assassins, and he didn’t have many to begin with. 

                                       ” so, how’s life going ? “

It was a good thing for them this was not her real color, but she kept to it. Because she did not want to ever go back to the real her, it did not exist. It wore no name no shapes, just memories that were slowly fading, too slowly for her taste but she’d do with it until all of it vanished. As it was though, she walked in the restaurants, hands in her pockets. Her attire did not bother her, so what if she looked as if she’d just come from training and sweating, she’d come from doing exactly that there was no need to sugarcoat it. But she felt a sigh before she dropped in the seat facing his.

She parted her lips to speak, but before doing so took his words to heart and went on to do just that, make herself at home, a small grin settling to tugging the corner her mouth as she did so. Coat was off and put to the side, beanie was taken down and put down where the coat was laid, so that she looked less nonchalant underneath. Sure thing she’d come from training, but she’d also taken a shower,  and thrown on a pair of clean clothes. “I ‘unno how you always do this, talk like you care or ya wanna care, but I don’t.”

          Her head was tilted as           she gave away that answer.

❝Look at ya’, a damn gray cloud is hanging on the top of you. I’m surprised you haven’t smacked a bitch on your way here.❞ Sungkyung points out. Trying to figure out what happened to Sash before she arrived at the comforts of her home, nonetheless whether she was willing to inform her or not; she asked. Never really caring too much if there was going to be an answer in return. Lithe fingers carelessly brushed against her hair without caring too much of it falling at random areas.

It’s not her ideal situation of celebrating the Holidays, normally used to closer company besides her or isolating herself for another day or two to avoid anyone she knows because there was no particular reason to celebrate it when she didn’t thoroughly enjoyed it genuinely. Maybe as a child, it was the only time where she was actually willing to spend time around people who she loved and it wasn’t too much of the thought of being spoiled of presents. Times changed and she’s barely asking for anything from people. Presents were given at random from what they know about her and that’s all it was.

Lips drifting an inch away from one another, wanting to speak out loud but she resulted into nothing but absolute silence. Complying by following close behind the other woman and her behind was resting on the cushion of the couch. Nails scratched against the nape of her neck, breathing deeply through her nose and her fingers coiled around against the bottle. Guiding it to her lap in order to twist the cap, removing it without much difficulty on her part. A tiny pop retaliates in return due to her actions and surprisingly despite her wanting to have a good taste of the liquor dripping down against her mouth and down her throat. Sungkyung offers it to the latter.

Were they celebrating? She wasn’t fond of the liquor, she had to be honest. It brought in her a side that spoke too loud, spoke too much, felt too much and at times made her feel like she was twelve again, running in the snow with her brother hot at her tail. Falling face first in the shiver of the cold and having a weight on top of hers, Haerim joining in at the last minute when she was down. Always when she was down and yet she never really held it against him.  She’d play as if she did and he’d pout and go tell their mother that she was being mean. Apologizing wasn’t hard then because it didn’t matter that she had to say sorry because she wasn’t sorry, it was a purposeful banter and her mother knew it. She had this smile that she’d loved as a child, the one that did not  scold but simply adored.

Sash took a sip when the image settled in the back of her mind, she thought of it as heavy but it was light on her shoulders when she cleared her throat, “It’s not stress, it’s distaste, they’re different.” Distaste because this holiday was something her family adored, they probably still adored it. It was the only time of the year where they would all be there even the one that had been forbidden from ever coming home again. On his choice or their parents’ choice, it had never been decided. He’d always drop by on Christmas and everyone would act as if he’d always never been home, like he hadn’t left for years now and they hadn’t had any news for years on and on.

But he can’t trust her not to hold this against him. Not that he wouldn’t deserve that but he deserves a great deal of things that are never properly given to him. He can’t afford to do anything but cover this up which is what keeps him there. He could kill her now and be done with it, but if no one heard the gunshots before they’d confirm them if they sounded again. It’s time like these he should really invest in keeping a silencer around. He doesn’t ask if she’s okay. He knows that she’s not. He knows if he says anything it’s only going to end with her yelling at him and he’d laugh because it’s the only way he’d be able to keep himself from shooting her in her other leg. She wouldn’t think that was funny. She’d probably make attempts to kill him. She might do that anyway.

She doesn’t want him to touch her even though he’s trying to help. He doesn’t fight it. Finding it easier to let her drag herself around. She seems fascinated by the injury which is more than he can say about himself. He’s seen on bullet hole, even the ones that have lined his body, he’s seen them all. So there’s no particular interest in seeing her bleed all over his room. He leaves her to her thoughts in the bathroom and begins to throw towels on the trail that has followed her there. She demands he clean it after he’s already done so but doesn’t reply until each white cloth is a smear of pinks and red.

"Shut up. Or I’m going to shoot you again and this time I’m actually going to aim my gun. You just happened to be in the way before." He doesn’t mean that — yes he does — but he isn’t going to do what he says. It wouldn’t kill him to be nice to her but he doesn’t know the meaning of the word. Instead he orders food. He calls down to the front desk to cover his ask and nose around just in case the neighbors in the rooms next to them heard something funky. He even changes because he’s got blood on his socks, and his boxers. In all the time he’s busying himself he can’t think of a single apology to offer her. He can’t even think up an excuse. She pissed him off so he shot her. That was how the story unfolded. At some point though he sticks his head in the bathroom to make sure she’s not dead.

She kept her eyes moving, from time to time, watching him move around the place, clean the dirty floor before she’d spoken, but she’d spoken already, fallen into the bit of that habit that she tried her hardest to never let show. Words. Words to cover up for when she felt uncomfortable, words that’d run out of her mouth without any mean to stop them, the moment she’d become Sash, she swore control over that. So far? So far, she’d been so god damn good ,especially with the adderall it was much easier to focus on what she wanted to say and what she did not want to say.

But she was snapped out of it with his words, he was going to stitch it? Put it all back to place? She was both apprehensive of the idea of having to fix this hole and—truth be told she could barely stand needles on her skin. She could push away a lot of things, and she usually would clean up the wounds of others, fixing other’s was not a problem. In fact she enjoyed it, the act of undoing and putting back together was something she enjoyed. As if playing a little God, despite her lack of belief in the being. But Sash had a thing to admit, she hated needles. She just kind of did not want any close to her skin, it was not just about the pain, not at all, it was this irrational fear of something other than a blade piercing through her skin. Something so little that could get lost in her veins and the threads--those were dreadful.