#* jinyoung

it’s all a dream—park jiyeon is inclined to believe.

one that has the organ caged within her chest pounding when she wakes—and all the memories, every single last word, smile, touch, kiss rushes to greet her like a slap to the face.

reality was a slap to the face.

the crunch of bone catches your ears first, as you turn the corner of the building. at the other side, a pack of the beasts trample on discarded, broken bodies. a look behind you reveals your pursuers are catching up; hungry, baleful stares aimed your way. before you fully register the presence of another, the fanning of hot, rancid breath blows across your back. the tension skyrockets. one false move -- or no move at all -- means instant death. what will you do?

by now the excitement of the twist on their entire lives has been dialed down enough for a whole new level of unrestrained fear to rise up. this is not to say that park jiyeon is no longer fascinated by these creatures—everything from glassy eyeballs to strangely muscular build and the way they resembled lizards is intriguing. but as it is, the novelty of these creatures were greatly worn down by the fact that they were trying to separating her head—any of her limbs, really, though jiyeon speculates she might taste better eaten whole—from her body.

not the point.

but what was the point? jiyeon can’t exactly think, fingers twitching as she presses herself flat against the wall, almost hoping she’d be able to sink into the brick wall. the hot breath tickling the back of her neck has her shivering, the small hairs on her nape bristling as she allows herself to take a small breath.

don’t panic – you’re dead if you panic.

allows the smallest of breaths to calm her nerves, well aware of the low growl from directly behind her as she thinks—chants—dark! dark! dark!—in the depths of her mind, not fully understanding the power that has been given to her but hoping that something happens.

and it does.

jiyeon barely notices it—registers the cold sinking into her very bones—crinkled eyelids smoothing out once the sensation escapes, her eyes fluttering open to find herself staring at—nothing.

did she… did she escape again?

a (somewhat peeved—can monsters sound peeved?) growl calls to her attention and jiyeon turns her head to the left, the creature from the earlier turning to face her—did she really only just escape to the other side of its body?

the sensation of dried blood on skin is impossibly aggravating, one that jiyeon can’t help but to be used to despite the frequency of that actually happening (about as many times as the average korean eats rice in a year). but today, especially, it wears on her nerves even more.

perhaps it was because of the lecture that awaited their return to the camps—delivered by the second-in-command (needless to say jiyeon was both disappointed and afraid when she noticed empty space beside her; dealing with chaeyoung-unni without their leader is ten times more difficult)—one filled with enough disappointment to have the enforcer herself wracked with guilt.

there’s no perhaps about it – the source of her bad mood was definitely because of her own incompetence.

how jiyeon had even allowed the male to escape, she did not know—did not want to think about it any further, if she’s honest—but chaeyoung-unni had been right after all.

they really can’t do anything together.

that is what crushes her to most.

yet jiyeon prepares herself to wait outside the tent anyhow, fingers picking at the dried blood on the back of her hands absently as she stood, back straight and head lowered. the fact that jinyoung was the last chaeyoung-unni wanted to speak to meant for something—chances are it wasn’t going to be something good; which was the prime reason as to why the enforcer opted to wait outside for him. even if it was more than a little draining.

 she was tired, no doubt, despite her earlier regenerative abilities, the punch delivered to her ribs has left them more than just a little fractured, making each breath a bit of a struggle on its own—all and all, however, nothing really compared to the pangs of shame and hurt at the very recollection what had happened.

( txt ) i didn’t think you were that kind of person

( txt ) i'm not!!