kid who can't let it go

(/ her brows raise once more as his voice is directed towards her, and she follows his gaze, pursing her lips in thought. she shrugs, a small sigh escaping her. she presses off the wall, running a hand through her hair as she assess the male in front of her.) it’ll be nice for him to wear that shiner proudly for few days. i’ll pass.

taking another bite out of his apple, jongin considered some form of an escape route to put both of them out of the misery of each other's company as quickly as possible. unfortunately, he didn't have any weapons with him aside from a knife he kept for self-defense, because he preferred to pretend to be a normal human being instead of a criminal whenever he went grocery shopping. he couldn't make some moment like something out of the movies and fire a bullet through the store's front window to break out, even if he was stupid enough to want to do such a thing.

he was in the middle of mentally cursing the employees of the grocery store for not checking to make sure everyone was out before locking up when he felt something hit his head. instantly, his hand flew up to stroke the spot it had hit, a pout on his face. he looked over at kyungsoo with a scowl, then scooted even farther away, not exactly understanding how throwing fruit qualified as staying away and not bothering each other.

for a moment, he considered being the bigger person out of the two of them. it was fleeting, however, and he threw his half-eaten apple directly at kyungsoo's face in retaliation.

and then came the familiar voice (a voice he wished he couldn’t recognize but it was the same voice that rung in his head almost every night) and for a moment his eyes faltered, reading coming to a halt as his body froze. ignore it, he breathed, focusing back on the files, the names that suddenly stole all his interest when just five seconds ago he wanted nothing to do with them.

but it was hard when the voice only grew louder, knocking more incessant and — christ — why couldn’t he go away?

"fucking," jongdae sighed before he stood up, grabbing his gun and the file filled with nothing but information about future clients, as he walked towards the door. he had wavered slightly though when the intensity of jongin’s words fell onto his ears. but he couldn’t find in himself to care enough (because he had cared too much at one point).

surprisingly enough he had no qualms about opening the door, gun tucked in his back pocket. “what the fuck do you want?” he asked, eyes not once straining away from the words on his files. “i’m giving you five seconds before i shoot you through the skull and slam this door in your fucking face cunt bag,” he said, voice surprisingly calm despite the anger building up in him.

finally, he pulled his gaze away from his file and his eyes fell onto jongin. and there it was, the familiar sinking feeling — the one that had caused him sleepless nights spent alone in the corner of his room, the one that had him giving up every little ounce of trust he once had in people, the one that made him feel like a fool. but it was also the one that only jongin could get out of him.

then jongdae's words registered, prickling in his ears, and they hurt just as much as the bullet wound beneath his ribcage. he only whimpered, unable to muster the energy to produce words, but the world only grew darker, as if the candle that produced the light of his last hope was extinguished in that moment. of course, he should've expected this-- to be met with hatred, because it was all jongdae had shown him recently. although weeks ago, he could've managed to convince himself that jongdae's bitterness was unjustified, now it seemed crystal clear and entirely understandable-- jongin was a traitor. he didn't deserve anything other than coldness.

but maybe this was an act of where his loyalties truly lied-- the fact that he ended up on the doorstep of someone he used to call his best friend, entirely convinced he would die, instead of dragging himself back to syndicate territory where a doctor could easily patch him up.

yes. this was exactly how he deserved to die.

he only gave a light shake of his head and stumbled forward, legs too weak to carry his weight any longer. a small wail left his lips, almost soundless thanks to his lack of energy, and he shook his head again, coupled with another desperate, shaky step forward. "i'm not-- i'm not...i'm not kidding, this isn't a joke-- it's not...it's not...i'm dying..." and he almost uttered the word finally, because it almost came as a relief. "i don't know..." he wheezed, but he couldn't gather the strength to speak anymore, because every word drained him, every emotion and trying thought nudging him closer to the inevitability of his demise.

and even if he could manage to speak, he couldn't find the proper words to explain his broken thoughts. something along the lines of i don't know why i came to you, of all people, or i don't know what to do without you anymore seemed fitting, but they never left his lips, because his vision speckled, jongdae's face blurring, and jongin's legs finally gave out, body unable to handle the blood that drained from his wound and the stress of standing upright.

maybe now, it was okay to give up. maybe he served his purpose in his life, as unfulfilling as it seemed.

[ sms to: twin ] cause i know you’ll appreciate the effort

[ ✉ → other in ] oh you know only....every single day....

[ ✉ → other in ] being good at my job requires me to get shot at a lot i'm practically the go-to guy for everything these days which is good i guess, but i would much rather just....give other people guns and tell them how to use them and let them put their lives in danger. but nope, i get the 'kai, go kill this black lotus member, no questions asked' missions and also the 'steal these weapons on your own since nobody else in syndicate knows how to properly handle a weapon or be your backup' missions

[ ✉ → other in ] i probably shouldn't have told you half of that shit. if they get suspicious of my loyalties they could have someone hack my phone in five seconds and i would be out on my ass

what’s he doing in a starbucks? taemin doesn’t remember. he also doesn’t really care, for that matter. the shop isn’t too busy, which isn’t surprising considering it’s three in the afternoon on a thursday. who comes into starbucks at three pm? apparently, taemin does.

he’s not sure what to do with himself. he’s ordered some kind of cold coffee, and for once he actually likes the way it tastes, so he doesn’t want to bug the barista about having done it wrong, since that would mean he’d have to give back his coffee.

he sits in an uncomfortable leather armchair: one of those that looks as though it’ll be nice and comfy but actually ends up being lumpy and unsatisfactory. he stares out at the nearly empty shop, idly sipping his coffee through his straw and thinking about nothing at all.

when he gets the sudden urge to get up and move, he vaguely decides to go to the bathroom, even though he has little to no need to use it. he stands, leaving his coffee and keys on the table; if anyone steals it he can just fuck them over later. he’s still zoned out as he walks, thinking of all the possible ways to get back at someone who tries to steal from a professional thief. because he’s not paying attention, he runs right into someone going the opposite direction.

taemin blinks at them for a moment, wondering if he just ran into a mirror. but no, the body was warm, and definitely did not feel flat like a mirror. but he can’t deny that this person looks a lot like him — so much that it’s mildly disturbing. taemin blinks at him for a second, then realizes why he looks so familiar (aside from the fact that it feels like he’s staring at himself).

one of life's simple pleasures that even begrudgingly trained killers can appreciate is coffee and the atmosphere of the shops that serve it, so it's not uncommon to find him in small cafes around the city. this one is his favorite, because it's just the perfect combination of out of the way and close to his apartment in syndicate territory. he stands in line, puzzling over whether to spend part of his hard-earned paycheck on some kind of caramel late or more traditional coffee, when someone collides with him, and he stumbles out of line a bit, more confused than he is agitated.

[ sms to: twin ] i’ll fucking meet you okay

[ sms to: twin ] you have to buy me food though

[ sms to: twin ] see look ive got pants on now Attached: IMG_1407181342

[ ✉ → other in ] hahaahha wait shit i'm meeting you to bring you the book and i don't have it yet give me like a half hour to go buy it

[ ✉ → other in ] i know you put pants on for me and everything but i formally request your patience

[ sms to: twin ] wait you mean you wanna meet now???

[ sms to: twin ] im kind of not wearing pants so this might cause a problem

[ ✉ → other in ] i didn't say now? i mean...whenever...i'm free now but i know you're probably too lazy to even put on pants let alone leave the house right now so

[ ✉ → other in ] wow i was right

(/ perhaps it should have been better to have been in any other position, but sooyeon can’t help the smug grin that slides across her face. her gaze flickers across the faces around her, an her expression takes on that of faux concern.) 

i’m sorry, (/ she snorts, looking at the face of the male in front of her, with eyes too bloodshot and the left one sporting a nice black bruise.) i’ve got sharp reflexes — sometimes, they just happen and i’m powerless to stop them. 

{ /he also tells himself, when he hears a scuffle break out in an alleyway, that he should continue on like the innocent young man that he isn't. of course, he doesn't listen to himself, and instead pauses at the opening of the other side of the alleyway, gun in hand, hip pressed into the brick as he peeks around the corner to take in the situation }

{ /if he's learned anything over time, it's that no well-meaning people are out at this hour of night, so he doesn't assume the girl the men are bothering is innocent like others might. still, she's vastly outnumbered, so he does something that his fellow syndicate members would probably frown at him for: he pads as silently as possible down the alleyway, thankful the men are preoccupied with matters of defending their pride, and then smacks one of them straight in the temple with the barrel of his pistol }

{ /the man drops to the ground, instantly knocked out from the impact, and jongin does the same to the next one before he has a chance to react. that leaves one lone male and the girl, and he lets a light sigh past his lips, fairly certain that this was a bad idea, but not backing down anyway } look, your friends are going to wake up in a couple hours, they'll be fine. you should probably go before somebody here does something really stupid. { /he makes a huge show out of inspecting his pistol, then raising an eyebrow at the man in question before he seems to get the picture and flees the alley }

[ sms to: twin ] oh wow…i could get SHOT? maybe we shouldn’t do this…i’m terrified of guns…

[ ✉ → other in ] i'm laughing shut the fuck up nobody asked for your sarcasm

[ ✉ → other in ] of course you're sure we'll be fine you literally never think anything through. vanguard though ew, let's meet somewhere in neutral territory, as long as we don't break any laws nobody will bother us. it'll be nice to pretend to be normal for a little while anyway

[ sms to: twin ] and as long as we’re alone…we can meet there without being shot!!! most likely

[ ✉ → other in ] yeah but if anybody from black lotus sees us you'll get shot for being seen with me haha...i'm a traitor to the name, you know. i'm surprised they didn't treat you different just for being friends with me...