#arcxguk

Minhyuk turned his head slightly to the right, dark irises following suit, the movement barely passing as inconspicuous. Stealth was one of his strong points, it was needed in his ‘legitimate’ profession, but trying to appear unsuspecting and none the wiser certainly wasn’t. Each turn of his head, each blink, even each time he inhaled started to feel mechnical and very much unnatural. Straining his eyes, the blurry image of the silhouette came into focus. Broad shoulders, tall, hands shoved in pockets, gaze low. He’d half expected a middle-aged businessman, seeking revenge and the retrieval of the wallet stolen not long ago, (along with a silk tie and a pair of silver cuff links which, upon closer inspection, turned out to be fakes and rather worthless, but at least they looked pleasant). It had been in the midst of stringing the older man along with a concession of ‘ahs’ and ‘oohs’ as he boasted about his wealth and achievements, that Minhyuk had managed to use his magic to acquire what he needed.

This guy on the other hand was no businessman, nor was he middle-aged, and despite his gaze seemingly locked on the ground he never failed to turn when Minhyuk did, he never even missed a step. A shiver travelled down his spine, goosebumps appearing on his exposed arms and the fine hairs standing to attention. The hair on the back of his neck, he realized, had been standing on edge long before the cool breeze swept over him. Creepy, he shook his head, eyebrows pulling together as they furrowed, making his eyes narrow. The last time he’d encountered someone emanating such an aura had been his first near death experience. Sometimes he stole from the wrong people, his act of thievery the first domino in a chain of misfortune. The victim would tell their brother/father/significant other/gang leader and all hell would break lose and suddenly Minhyuk would find himself dodging bullets or blades.