Technological Freedom

Before he could protest or pull away, she was dragging him down, and he crashed onto the cot with a quiet yelp.  There was an immediate wave of panic, and his arms shifted to keep his hands away from her; before he could get up, before he could escape, she was all around him.

"Fuck," he whispered.  "Oh fuck.”

He couldn’t make himself move.  He was trapped, her fingers curled tight in his clothes, her face in his neck, one of his feet awkwardly still on the floor while the other was on the cot and tucked under one of hers.  His skin tingled where her face touched, the warmth of her breath on his skin more unsettling than anything.  What was he supposed to do?!  He couldn’t just… lay here all night.  He couldn’t stay in this bed with this strange woman, especially seeing as how she would probably kill him when she woke in the morning and realised what he’d done.

But he couldn’t disentangle himself without waking her again and possibly making the situation worse.  He swallowed back on a groan and let his head rest on the cot, doing his best to get control of his breathing despite his worry.  How long would she sleep?  Maybe if he waited a while… he could see if she would let go of him, move around in her sleep, and he could slip away…

Waking up with a strange person in her arms, however, had never happened to her before. Her eyes slowly fluttered, wondering if she had crept into Fei’s bed again while drunk and froze seeing the face of person she had never interacted with before. She thought his name was Himchan, but she couldn’t remember how he had managed to get there. Had something happened? It looked like she had practically pulled him to the bed.

Horror spread across her face as short images of her begging for his touch came out of the haze. She looked at him with disgust, how could she do that and how the hell could he let her be like that? Dara decided, however, the best way to deal with something like that was to just leave. Let him wake up on his own and leave and then never talk about it, ever, again. So that was what she did -- Dara gently untangled herself from him and slipped silently off the cot. She pulled her towel and clothes from a bin and then quickly made her way out of the tent and towards the showers.

Dara didn’t even take the time to look in the makeshift mirror as she strippedd her clothes off. She didn’t feel like they had done anything, so she trusted herself enough to know she hadn’t quite been that stupid.

The shower went smooth at first. She kept her eyes closed as she washed her hair, humming as she did so. It was when she opened her eyes and looked down, however, that things got weird again. At first the gigantic black handprints on her breasts didn’t make sense. Had she missed something the night before? She had blacked out well before she had made it to her tent and bed, it was true, but she couldn’t possibly think of a way to get paint on her like that. In her frustration, she started scrubbing.

To her horror, the black marks didn’t even fade. It was then that she remembered shoving Himchan’s hands up her shirt. A loud, frustrated yell escaped her lips. How the hell had he managed that in such a short time? Dara turned off the water and wrapped the towel around herself. She didn’t even care to throw on the clothes she had brought, too enraged to want to take so much time.

She stormed across the camp back to her tent, ignoring the strange looks that were being sent her way. No one dared to stop her, too frightened of the look on her face. She didn’t hold back when ripping open the tent doorway, too angry to care about being nice and waiting for him to wake up.

She was falling.  Himchan curled an arm around her waist, hand carefully shifted so it wouldn’t touch her, and held her against himself; while he was horrifically uncomfortable about the amount of her body that was pressed against his, there was nothing he could do about it.  It was either endure this, or leave her here amongst the trees for the night, and he knew better than to do that.  Carefully he moved his other arm to hook it under her legs, sweeping them up as best he could.

"I am so absolutely fucked."

It was awkward carrying someone while trying your hardest not to touch them.  Her face was in his neck and it sent shivers up Himchan’s spine; he stumbled a bit as he made his way toward the tents, each time feeling a moment of terror as the woman threatened to slip out of his arms.  He managed to not drop her, thank god, and once among the colourful tents it was easy enough to find hers.  He shuffled his way up to it and carefully nudged his way inside, doing his best to not catch her on the tent’s flaps as he slipped between them.

There were two beds with things scattered around them.  This was a problem.  He hovered nearer to one, the one that seemed most likely to be hers… but he couldn’t be sure. He didn’t know her, or the other person who lived in this tent.  For all he knew, he could be at the wrong one entirely.

His voice pulled her out of the darkness just enough for her to open her eyes, blinking through the blur as she looked where she was. Her cot came into view and she groaned, pushing herself down and flopping onto her side on it. The thing normally wasn’t comfortable yet at the moment it felt as if she was lying on a cloud. Her hand kept its grip on Himchan’s arm, and instead of letting him go, She grabbed him and pulled him down next to her.

He couldn’t hold back the smile when she accepted his offer to eat together. He wasn’t sure why he was so obviously happy about it, he didn’t even know her properly nor had he planned on eating his meal in company in the first place. Especially not with someone he barely knew — and even if, he hadn’t imagined this person to be Sandara.

Not to get him wrong. She had always seemed nice but he couldn’t really imagine having a decent conversation with her was possible or easy. Sandara had always appeared so… well, he didn’t know how to explain really other than different from all the odds? But hearing her rambling now, he wasn’t so sure of that anymore. Was his memory fooling him now, or did she actually change?

Either way, he had to admit that although he usually wasn’t the outgoing type of person, some days it felt actually appealing to him, stepping out of his regular circle and getting to know people he usually didn’t really talk to a lot. Must be one of those phases, he concluded to his own thoughts, and nodded to her words.

As soon as Yongguk smiled, however, she felt her heart flutter and could only respond with a rather graceful blush, her own bright smile matching his. For the first time in months, any thought of Jiyong fled her mind and she found herself actually happy. All because of a smile of someone that she hardly knew.

“I am pretty cool, aren’t I? Though tell me if I get this wrong. Bang Yongguk, Shadow Manipulation. We need to throw a haunted house, your ability would make that amazing. All I can do is fix a damn car and look up random facts on the internet with my brain,” she shrugged, following close behind him as he started to move towards wherever he was taking her to eat. “Though honestly, I’m terrible with haunted houses and probably would never be able to be forced to go in,” She laughed, shaking her head, her golden ponytail rippling as it moved back and forth.

He hadn’t the strength or the care to tense up when she pushed him back, though it turned out she was a lot stronger than he thought she was. Once upon a time, when he saved her life, he couldn’t help but always think of himself as the tougher one. Yet, here she was, nearly throwing him off his feet because he didn’t get enough of his fix today. He stumbled, his body slightly pressing against one side of his tent before he stabled himself. His eyes were wide and bloodshot, his ears ringing as her words repeated themselves over and over in his mind. Why wasn’t this the way he pictured their final talk? He had dreamed of it, in his haze, and it wasn’t this. It wasn’t painful.

Thought I once loved, were the only words he made out, the rest of it so angry that he made an unconscious decision to blur it out. She’d insulted him enough, and he got the grim idea of what her updated thoughts were on Kwon Jiyong, and he didn’t want to hear any more. Thought I once loved, it played again, and he looked away from her. She pushed him. He stumbled. His eyes gazed over hers, but she looked so far away. She was right there, stinging him, pushing him back although he had nowhere to go, but he still couldn’t reach out and touch her. Who knew words could burn so bad? Was this what his acidic abilities felt like?

There was silence. She had given him a chance to choose, but he didn’t really know what he was choosing. To numb himself, or to feel again? That was what the choices felt like. She had called him pathetic two times, he counted. How many times did she say she didn’t love him? Three? Was it three? He looked up at her, with her hand on her head and tears threatening her pretty brown eyes. Once, he decided, she said it once. He didn’t want to speak again, because the quiet was nice. He was angry before, but her words wore him down, and he didn’t feel anything but the pain in his chest. His eyes hurt, and he wanted to close them for a long time. Maybe she could hate him, and he could go to sleep. The trade seemed very fair, and the more he looked at his empty bed, the more inviting it all seemed.

"… You have it wrong," he mumbled, although the quiet air made his voice loud enough for her to hear him. He hated the sound of his own voice, and he didn’t want to hear it. But he kept talking anyway, as if to spite himself. And maybe save himself.

"CL didn’t do this," he grinned wearily, gesturing forward. "But if that’s your logic, I could blame it on you. I could point the finger at anyone who’d ever hurt me and say they’re the reason I do all the things I do, but that’s not true,” he took a step away from the edge of the tent, and he stared Sandara down, but to her, it might seem like he was looking past her, or behind her. He couldn’t really help it. “I do it because I can’t leave like you did. Or she did,” he narrowed his eyes. “I don’t have a place to go with these… this,” he lifted up his hands and the acidic liquid bubbled out of his fingertips. In his right mind, he would never allow someone this close with his ability reacting so forcefully to his emotions. It spilled out of his mouth as if it were drool, but when it pooled against the ground, it burned right through the bottom of the tent. “I found my own way to leave,” he said a little desperately, and frowned.

To do that meant that she had to come clean with him. So many things could go wrong in that conversation, and yet she knew it was her only option. But what if he hated her for her past? What if he was angry at her for not staying away? After all , she had escaped from the triads and come back to the circus, putting them all once more at risk. And yet the thought of his smile and his laughter had pulled her back into this dream of a world, nearly floating like those cartoon characters caught on a wave of a scent too good to pass on.

“I didn’t...” Dara’s voice broke and she looked down at her hands. They were scarred from her times being tortured and running, like most of the rest of her body. She cleared her throat, willing herself to press on before he interrupted her and left. “I didn’t leave because I wanted to, I left because I had to.”

“After I left my family and before I came to the circus, I was... Well, terrible. You remember me when we first met. I didn’t feel because I didn’t believe it necessary. I didn’t want to go through the pain that I had been put through when my family separated. They all blamed me for it, I knew they did, and I couldn’t handle it. Shutting that all down, however, led me to make some of the worst decisions anyone could have made.”

There she took a breath, trying to hold back the flooding images of her family. Her parents, Sanghyun... Her brother that had been proclaimed dead and her parents that refused to speak to her. Her heart, already torn to pieces, seemed content on further splintering itself. This was too painful, yet she had to keep going.

“I worked as a mechanic, but it paid very little and to survive in a city like Seoul, you have to have money. So I started trading in information. Secrets that should not be told and that I shouldn’t know but had access to because of my ability. Gangs came to me for information on their enemies and government officials came to me for information on other countries to gain the upper hand. I went too far so many times. Started so many gang wars. My words and information caused so many lives to be lost and yet at the time I couldn’t bring myself to care. I was surviving so what else could matter?”

Her voice had become very soft by this point, shame apparent on her face. She may not have cared back then, but she quite obviously did now.

“One day, however, I gave information to a Gang here in Korea about their rivals. Rivals who happened to be members of the Chinese triads. Like usual, I thought I was safe. i thought it couldn’t be tracked to me because all of the computer work was done in my head. Yet, one of the korean gang members was caught and tortured. My name came up and they quickly found me. I uprooted, moving place to place to escape. I lost them for awhile and then I found the circus. I had been traveling with the circus ever since. When we were in China, however, a member that knew my face spotted me and I knew that I had to move fast. So I ran.”

At this point she stood up and turned around, her back facing Jiyong. “I ran for days before they finally caught me. I was taken back to one of the places that they keep, and torture prisoners..” Her fingers reached down hesitantly and hooked under her shirt before quickly pulling it up over her head. Scars lined her back and when she turned around, her torso as well. “I was tortured for... Well.. It felt like eternity. But I made it through because I knew they wouldn’t harm you or the other members because of my past mistakes. I nearly died, but an old man who ran with the gang was looking to get out and because he pitied me, he took me with him when he escaped. He nurtured me back to health and picked up where you had left off in prying away the brick wall that I had built over my emotions.”

She shuttered and sat back down, not bothering to put her shirt back on. “I hadn’t expected to come back. How could I? I was so different. So... Anyways, when the old man caught wind that the circus was in town, he told me and... I couldn’t stay away. I wanted to make sure everyone was ok. But most importantly, I needed to see you again. I never wanted to leave. This place was my home and you were here. A man I so desperately loved that it was changing how I saw the world around me. Sure, I knew you loved CL. I knew you hated Seungri for taking her from you. I wanted to be there for you because I knew you were upset even though it wounded me greatly that you could not see me. I also knew that I was at least your friend and that leaving you would hurt you. But leaving you heartbroken was better than you being killed because of my mistakes.”

It wasn’t his fault.  Himchan could really only retain so much control, honestly.  He had been trying so hard to keep it in check, because marks left on people were so much worse than marks left on clothes and objects… but when she pulled his hands up her shirt, surprisingly strong for someone so slight, his mind went completely blank and a look of horror splashed its way across his features.

Because he knew. Even if he couldn’t see his hands as she pushed them under her bra and onto her breasts, he knew that he’d lost control of it.  His palms and slender fingers were flush against skin, and this woman would have the permanent marks to prove it.  There was no point in fighting to pull away now, because the damage was done and if he tried and she resisted it would only make it worse.

When she leaned on him, when she squeezed his hands and pressed them even closer around her breasts, he swallowed hard and tried to focus on regaining control.  She was so forlorn about not being touched by people… but what could Himchan do?  How could he explain to her that his reasons for not wanting to touch her were two fold - because of his power, and because of his orientation?

She was drunk. There really was no point to explaining, at least not now.

"Let… let me take you to your tent," he stammered, shivering a little.  He was in so much trouble.  So very very much.  "Which are you in?  I’ll get you there."

It wasn’t until then that she realised that she had probably pushed too far. A groan escaped her lips as she clutched at him to keep herself upright. Her head was spinning and her stomach was churning, the alcohol hitting her with such a force that she would soon be unable to to regain any sort of consciousness.

“I’m sorry...” She mumbled, eyes fluttering closed as her legs finally gave out completely, her weak grip on him the only thing keeping her up now.

“So tired..”

Her last words slurred and faded as she slipped into the dark, mind completely gone into a state of unconsciousness that she had absolutely no control over. It was the nights that she couldn’t remember that often made her wonder if she should quit alcohol, and yet her loneliness always won out in the end and she was constantly forced to repeat her own mistakes.

The second the woman touched Himchan’s arm, he tensed up.  He would have moved, would have stepped away, but he still had a deeply instilled politeness that dictated he not let a girl fall on her face.  Raised well, he was.  He stood very still, watching hawkishly as she corrected herself, and he breathed a quiet sigh of relief.

"It’s fine-"

But then it didn’t get any better.  The way she was looking at him was a little unsettling, and the slurred words that followed didn’t help matters at all.  

"You’re very pretty… and I’m sure you’re very interesting too…" He wasn’t going to pretend that he wasn’t attractive.  Himchan knew his own face well enough.  He’d had girls tell him they envied how pretty he was, despite the fact that if they looked like him as girls they’d probably hate themselves.  ”Look, you need to be ca-“

He had closed his eyes for a moment as she leaned on him, focusing himself so he could maintain control, and then it happened.  He heard the quiet sound of the glass bottle hitting the ground, and even as his eyes were opening and he was moving his arms, she had ahold of his wrists.  Himchan let out the softest of gasps and very gently tugged his captive limbs.

"Wait… miss, please… you’re not plain, you’re beautiful, just please let go…" He was afraid to jostle her too much to free his hands.  Too much, and she’d either fall into him or to the ground and hurt herself.

“If I am not plain, why are you trying to pull away?” She asked, moving to where she bumped against him once more. She was relying heavily on his support to stay up now, her own legs were quickly failing her. “If I was pretty, wouldn’t you want to talk to me?” She frowned, mind moving at too sluggish of a pace for her to really be able to comprehend the situation that she was in.

Her hands grasped his wrists harder and she pulled them closer, his fingers dangerously close to her body. “Wouldn’t you want to touch instead of pulling away?” She was so far gone that when she woke up, she wouldn’t remember any of these bad decisions that she was making.

She moved his hands quickly, manipulating them up her shirt and under her bra, pressing the palms of his hands against her own breasts, holding them there and leaning against him. Her eyes were starting to droop, but she needed to be touched. “You can touch. There isn’t much, but you can touch..”

Her cheeks were red, a mixture of alcohol and minor embarrassment of her own forwardness. She leaned forward, leaning her head on his shoulder. “Why doesn’t anyone ever want to touch me..?” She whispered, squeezing his hands ever so slightly.