#ghostchases

❛ Why do you think your people made me? ❜

This minor  vacation  was  FAR  better than what he could ask for in the  infernal  place he called  home,  and was already serving as a perfect vacation for the overworked reaper. Perhaps feeling the  scene  a bit too deeply, the man had done his finest to fit the mood;  dandy shades ( one pair of  three  ) perched upon his nose, the window of the car lowered as he lounged in his seat, enjoying the scenery and the  whipping  of the wind on his face, a  serene  smile  on his face, feigning sleep as he raised one arm into the air.

Another, this time  tucking  hand under his head and straining ever so slightly,  SURE  to give the sinews of his arm a little  show  as the camera snapped--- phone in hand, going off every  few seconds  with a click as he found a new angle, checked the picture, and continued to  PERFECT  his modeling.

❝  Ah,  ❞  he sighs, fanning himself with a  tired  hand as he scrolled throughout his already-vast collection of pictures, pursing his lips as he perused each one, carefully assessing the structures of his face, the lights, the shadows;  VERY  satisfied with the turnout, he grins, rolling phone in his hand before letting the thing fall to his lap. Gaze  falls  over to his companion, and he sets eyes upon him with a smile, soft and  AMUSED  at the focus the other has on the road, and allows a laugh to fall from his lips. Grin grows  vulpine,  and eyes crease in amusement, as the reaper once again paws for his phone.

❝ Stay still,  차사님.  ❞  Raising camera again, and leveling the phone to capture the other, Haewonmaek smiled  wide  in amusement. A  snap!!  and then his picture was taken, and the guardian quickly investigated his work, beaming at the  result  he got. His boss was handsome, of course--- though, he  supposed  that against his own looks, he could hardly hold a candle. At this, Haewonmaek released a laugh, knee bobbing precariously as he clicked back into his camera to snap more candids of the reaper.

❛ you’re an interesting guy ! ❜  his dark eyes gleam with interest, though it is hardly of the intellectual kind.  he looks hungry.  there’s a game to be won here.  a battle to be fought, though he won’t be the one to do the struggling.  in one hand, the joker’s got a rope tightly wound.  it trails off the edge of the building, held taught by a mysterious weight.  muffled cries can be heard but not seen.  it doesn’t matter.  kangsik knows what, or, rather, who, is at stake.  one wrong move and the rope will be released altogether, leaving the poor minister to fall to his doom.

that would certainly leave an unfortunate stain on the prosecutor’s record.

❛ now, don’t be maaad, ❜  his voice is drawled in a strangely light-hearted pitch.  circling closely from behind hyungbae, joker slips forward, grasping at a chair with a leather-gloved hand.  its wooden feet are dragged back with an irritating scrape, and he seats himself with little pomp and circumstance.  a knife is placed on the table before he reaches to fix his coat, eyeing the mobster with a quirk of his brow.  his tongue is busy for a moment, exploring the inside of his cheek, where rough scarring can be found.  this is a moment he intends to savor.  handling it too carelessly could result in dire circumstances.  joker intends to apply but a spoonful of indifference to their conversation.  then again, he never was quite good at holding himself back.

REST IN MOURNING MEME

SOMETIME IN THE PAST:

THE TASTE OF REJECTION WAS BITTERSWEET, SLICKING THE BACK OF HIS TONGUE LIKE BILE. Never in the entirety of his existence had anyone told Ahn Moonsik ❛ no ❜. & now, it was coming from the one person he never wanted to hear it from. Romance was not something wired within him ( something that would set off later in life —— not now ), but he wished to steal it, manipulate it to his will.

The GLORY OF LOVE would be bestowed upon him, if it killed him & the other party involved.

Sadly, he could not distinguish between a mere obsession, fueled by similar personalities & actual heart-pounding, blood-racing LOVE. Only that which he had learned how to fake from former relationships & horror novels. But surely, with his fists curled up tightly at his sides ( fingernails digging red hot indentations into the skin ) & images of hurting the one he adored plaguing him, this could be devotion & DEVOTION ALONE.

❝ You could have called, ❞ he spat out, knowing he looked just as PATHETIC as he felt. Those exact words ———— chanted like a dirty mantra that would do no one any good ———— he had been witness to many times. But never had he been the one to utter them for a MONSTER, someone just like him. The irony of it all was sickening.

Attempting to cycle through all the insults he knew to SPIT at Kangsik, he came to the conclusion that nothing would be enough. Deep within him, he knew the other was just like him, but he wasn’t worthy of that certain knowledge anymore. Moonsik could tell he wasn’t even aware of it in HIMSELF.