#hell(l)ing

Today, it was raining. If you had the ability to have the sky open up and rain on you every day, you would do it in a heartbeat— you loved the rain. It was the only time where you felt fractionally normal around other people. The constant interference of energy caused by rainfall created something like a static that made it easier to drown out invasive outside emotions. You could have a conversation with someone and not get barreled over by wave after wave of their feelings. Plus, you couldn’t resist opening the windows of your home to let the sweet, clean air left behind a recent rain shower wash away any stagnant atmosphere that may have accumulated within its walls.

Beyond that it was raining, it was also, suddenly, surprisingly, pleasantly, Friday. After the short, but no less exhausting, encounter with your neighbor, Seokjin, and his sickly roommate, Taehyung, the rest of the week passed by with little excitement. Namjoon had given you the look—one you were expecting to get, but nerve-wracking nonetheless— once he found out that you had yet to write basically the first 75 pages of your novel, though at this point he was not surprised if the lack of spike in his aura suggested anything. He had given you until Thursday to write at least an outline of events so he could have a better understanding of how the heroine falls into the unfortunate situation she finds herself in. Thankfully, you had been able to accomplish this task, and was even able to send in dialog samples. Namjoon, for now, had been placated.

The other thing about Friday, or this Friday in particular, was that it was the third Friday of the month signaling your bi-weekly visit from your favorite grocery delivery boy, Jungkook. He would be arriving a little after 4pm, as he kept your delivery to the end of his route. Good thing too; the two of you have recently gotten close and your chattering would often cause tardiness to Jungkook’s other appointments. Not to mention you lived fairly far out of the way for your delivery boy who drove nearly 45 minutes just to drop off six measly bags of filled with the food items you had texted him the previous day.

Honestly the boy was too helpful for his own good. There was one Friday where he had popped by with your things when you off-handedly mentioned how the ice-maker in your freezer wasn’t working properly and making too much ice. The angel that is your delivery boy spent the next 20 minutes with your irritating ice-maker, chipping away at the ice that had frozen over the rotator and fixing the setting all so you wouldn’t have to go with your original plan which involved defrosting your freezer, losing your frozen goods, and cleaning up a cold, wet mess afterwards. He had not complained once. Not about the ice, not about having to use a screwdriver as a pick, not even when his fingers had become so cold that you could feel the pain— literally.

This was one of many examples of his unbridled kindness, and one of the many reasons you were always excited to see the boy. As you straightened your house and rearranged your pantry to fit the incoming foodstuff, the rain continued to strike the outside of your house, mixing in well with the low-fi hip-hop you had playing in the background on your stereo system. It almost made you sleepy, but your relaxed state wasn’t enough to deter the building anticipation towards your future visitor.

When you were pleased with your pantry, you backed away and closed the door, just in time it seemed, as there was a quiet knock at your door. You sighed happily— you hadn’t felt the boy coming at all, bless the rain and its emotion-jamming effects. Ah, wait, the rain…

You zipped over to the door, realizing a bit sluggishly that Jungkook would be standing outside in the rain with all of your groceries until you opened it for him, as he was always the model citizen and wouldn’t enter without your knowledge. Clad in only socks, you slide across the hardwood flooring and straight into the door, hitting it against your shoulder with a slight ‘thud’, before regaining your footing and flinging open the front door. On the other side was a wet, mop-headed delivery boy, looking rather shocked at the speed in which you had approached the door and more than likely hearing the impact your body made with it.

“Sorry, sorry!” You said, picking up the reusable bags that he had lugged from his car and sat on your front step. Before you could grab a third bag, his hands shot out to stop you, fingers grazing your arm and allowing you to finally get a clear read on his emotions— he was like the air after the rain: sweet, clean, and refreshing.

“Noona, you don’t have to do that, I got those.” He said, picking up the other four bags, two in each hand, before following you into the house and, albeit with some trouble, kicked off his boots. Jungkook really had no wicked bone in his body, not one. He never had a second agenda, never said something he didn’t mean, never held a grudge; and his emotions reinforced all of these facts regularly. It was no wonder you liked being around him— you never needed your abilities to tell you what he was really feeling or thinking. He was an open book for you, and he did so with the knowledge of what you were capable of.

“Thanks for coming all the way out here for me, I really appreciate it.” You chimed, setting the bags down on the counter, Jungkook following suit. He gave a light-hearted shrug before ruffling some of the water out of his own hair.

“It’s okay, you are paying me after all,” A small huff escaped your lips at his comment as you placed your new gallon of milk into the refrigerator. Humor spilled into the air as you became accustomed to his energy despite the rain and he stifled a laugh at your reaction. “I’m only joking— well, no, you are paying me— you know I like hanging out with you!” You cracked a smile, not even able to continue to pretend to be mad at him.

“Yeah, yeah… took you long enough to talk to me though!” Teasing him had quickly become one of your favorite past-times. He was so easily embarrassed, and the way he always touched his ears when he was especially bashful entered dangerous territories for your heart. Precious boy.

“Yeah, well, I’m not, I didn’t, UGH. You know what I’m trying to say!” You sputtered out a laugh, not even the least surprised that you did, in fact, know what he was trying to say. He had confided in you shortly after communication had been established that he got nervous around new people, most specifically women. You weren’t sure why, he was a kind, bright, good-looking young man, and he had never produced much of a reason for it either. That’s just how he was. Perhaps he didn’t want to overstep any barriers and make people uncomfortable? Though now that you knew him, being uncomfortable with Jungkook was entirely impossible. And at his pink cheeks and pout, you caved, throwing a grape at him just to make him flinch.

“Alright punk, I forgive you.” You said before popping a different grape into your mouth. The dark-locked boy rubbed his chest where the grape had bounced off, feigning offence, the continuous stream of humor flowing off of him enough for you to know that he was enjoying your banter.

“Thanks, noona, really appreciate it, almost a year later!” He crinkled his nose at you as if he were irritated before tumbling into a fit of laughter, where you joined him merrily. Precious boy.

“So, what have you been up to? How’s school?” Routine questions, but you honestly wanted to know. He looked thoughtful for a moment, clearly trying to think of any recent changes in his life. You raised an eyebrow as you closed the door to your fridge once you finished putting away the chilled goods. As expected, he shrugged.

“The usual.” He began helping you by unloading the canned goods onto the counter top. “My film class is getting pretty interesting though.” Folding the tote bag the groceries were in, he placed it on one of your bar stools and then looked at you. “What about you? Anything interesting happen lately? Any more birds fly into your window?” You rolled your eyes at his teasing— living out here by yourself, you rarely had anything substantial to share with your friend. This time, however…

“Well, I’ve got new neighbors…” You revealed, picking up a few of the canned goods. Jungkook raised his eyebrow, following your lead and collecting a couple of cans to help you on your way to the pantry.

“Oh yeah?” You hummed, nodding your head as you placed your cans on the shelf.

“Mmhm. A tall guy with purple hair and his roommate that’s apparently always sick.” You elaborated, not mentioning names for now. “They’re… nice.” At your hesitation, you felt a slight buzz of uneasiness from the man beside you. You looked at him, knowing he was aware that you felt his change. “What?”

“Just nice?” His brows furrowed slightly as he looked at you like he was trying to read your energy, which you believed with little doubt he could. You spent too much time by yourself anymore and you long had forgotten how to properly dress your expressions for social interactions. You let out a breathy chuckle at his concern.

“Yes, nice.” You reiterated, plucking the cans from his arms. He gave you an unimpressed look that was garnished with a pout. With a sigh, you indulged him. “I can’t get a good read on either of them…” Your confession only left him more confused.

“You mean your empath stuff, right?” A nod of affirmation. “Why can’t you read them? I thought you didn’t know how to turn it off?” You hummed thoughtfully, taking the last can from him.

“It’s not that I can’t read them, it’s just that…” You turned from the pantry after placing the last can on the shelf and ran a hand through your hair. “The one dude is always freaking out— panic, panic, panic— all the time! I’m afraid that he’s going to give himself a heart attack! But beyond that, I have a gut feeling telling me that he’s a good person, even when he deliberately lies to me.” Arms crossed, Jungkook looked at you pointedly.

“So… a good liar?” He asked, trying to understand your instincts. You shrugged with a groan.

“Maybe? I don’t know, I really do think he’s… good.” You stepped back over to the counter to grab your new paper towel rolls and plastic wrap to be set in their proper locations. Jungkook slid onto a bar stool and leaned against the counter.

“Okay, not really sure what that means, but…” You glared at him, and he grinned at you, obviously trying to hold back laughter. “What about the other one?” At that, you paused. How were you supposed to explain ‘the other one’? Caught up in your thoughts, you didn’t bother putting way the items in your hand, rather opting to just set them on the counter again.

“Well, uh…” You trailed off, not entirely sure if he would believe you seeing as the last time you tried to explain something improbable with Yoongi didn’t go as you had hoped. However, looking at the wide-eyed boy in front of you, everything about his aura was open and trusting and you knew that if you told him, he would believe you. “His emotions come in ‘blips’.”

“’Blips’?” He repeated— not in a condescending way, but rather as if he were trying to place the definition of the word. You nodded, less than prepared to explain yourself.”

“Yeah, I can’t feel his emotions all the time, they go away and reappear like radar blips. But they’re always super intense.” Resting your forearms on the counter, you let the edge press into your ribs a bit as you leaned forward. Even without your abilities, you could tell that Jungkook was trying to think of an answer, anything that could be the cause. You almost smiled at his thoughtfulness— there was nothing to suggest he didn’t believe you.

“Well,” he started, breaking you out of your trance. “You said he was sick all the time, right? Maybe that could affect your readings?” You had thought about that possibility as well— you had never been knowingly near a significantly ill person, so you couldn’t say that it wasn’t conceivable; though saying that was the only issue would be erroneous. Still, seeing as this was the only reasonable explanation you had come up with, you chose to put your faith in it.

“Maybe,” You agreed, nodding. You didn’t bring up the midnight visitor or the crawly feeling of being watched the last week or so, knowing the kind boy in your kitchen would likely throw a fit trying to figure out a way to help you. To be honest, you kind of wish he would, though that was only in your own selfish interests. Since you hadn’t had any real incidents besides that one, you decided not to worry the boy.

Unfortunately, Jungkook’s visit this time around had to be cut short, as he had other responsibilities to attend to in the evening. You gave him sass of course, stating that you couldn’t believe that he had something more important to do than keeping you company. He laughed and apologized, though a small twinge of guilt in the air made you realize that he knew the hidden meaning in your friendly repartee.

You were lonely.

You were also aware that he knew you’d be able to feel the minute change in his emotional state even with the rain, but neither of you commented on it before you ushered him out the door so he could drive home while it was still light out. He bid farewell before sprinting to his car to avoid getting completely drenched and you waved from inside the doorway, flinching when he peels out of your driveway like he was Brian O'Conner from the ‘Fast & Furious’ franchise.

Sighing, you stood in your doorway for a bit longer, listening to the rain and watching the reflections in the puddles dance. This was the part you hated most— the emptiness that follows the end of social interaction. You were used to being alone, and the longer you were alone the more used to it you became. However, the small instances when you were able to talk to another person, be near them, smile and laugh with them… they reminded you that humans were codependent on each other. You needed other people. As much as you were physically pained to be near them, you needed them. As you spent more time in isolation from the world, the more you yearned to be normal.

The sound of a blunt object hitting the glass of your window wall had you spinning on you heel out of reflex. As Jungkook had teased you earlier, it was common for birds to fly into the large window panes. More often than not, they were fine and they flew off. But every once in a while, they injured themselves, and you took it upon yourself to assess their injuries and making them comfortable if need be.

So, imagine your surprise when there wasn’t a small, winged creature on your back patio, but rather a tall, soaked, handsome boy with his palm pressed against your French doors. You blinked a few times for good measure, hoping this was just an illusion and that you weren’t currently looking at your sickly neighbor with the weird readings standing in the rain outside your house. When you realized he was just going to continue to stand there looking into your house until you greeted him, you quickly shut your front door and hastily made your way over to let him in.

As you got close, you realized there was a buzzing in the air, like it was vibrating, again in blips like radar. You recognized this as anxiety or nervousness and quickly deduced that it was coming from your neighbor. You paused before opening the door— you didn’t know this man; you’d barely met him more than once and only heard him speak a single time, and it wasn’t even to you. Plus, you still couldn’t shake the unnerving feeling you got whenever he was within your range; there was too much similar between how you felt about the boy in front of you and the thing you saw that night. Were you really about to let him into your house?

Almost like he could feel your hesitation, his hand slipped from the door and he looked at the ground dejectedly. A hole appeared in you doubt at this innocent act, and a quick, shooting pain pierced your chest. You couldn’t tell if it was your own guilt setting in or his emotions afflicting you, but you opened the door without another lingering moment to think about how bad of an idea this was.

‘He’s sick and shouldn’t be in the rain,’ You told yourself as you now stood in front of this near-stranger without the protective barrier of your glass door. You swallowed, your own nerves now wreaking havoc on your body, though the dark-haired boy in front of you look more shocked and more nervous than you did. In fact, if you didn’t get him to calm down soon, his nerves would probably cause you to throw up. And the fact that his emotions only appeared like explosions in the atmosphere around you wasn’t helping. Still, the way he looked down at his feet rather than at you, just…

“H-hello…?” You greeted; your uncertainty evident in your shaken speech. He made the smallest movement, like he was flinching at the sound of your voice and you almost wanted to backtrack. Good lord he was skittish. “What, uh, what are you doing here? I-I mean, can I help you?” Fumbling over your words wasn’t new for you, but for some reason you were especially aware of your tongue’s missteps at the moment.

He stood there for a moment, contemplating you surmised, before peeking up at you through his wet bangs. You made eye contact and— sweet heavens— you forgot about the alluring abyss that was his gaze. It only lasted for a moment before he looked at his feet again, which, you finally noticed, were completely bare.

“You said…” Now it was your turn to be startled; only now remembering how deep and velvet-like his voice was, even with how soft-spoken he currently was. “…that I could come….” He shifted, his nervousness beating around you like drums as you let his words sink in. You said he could come… you said he could come? When did you—

“Oh, um, well my house isn’t too far from yours…He’s welcome to stop by from time-to-time if he’s able… It’d be no problem… It’d be nice to have company every once-in-a-while.”

You suddenly remembered that, yes, you had invited him to visit you during your interaction Monday afternoon. At the time, you had your reasons, reasons that you couldn’t remember for the life of you at the moment. What on earth possessed you to tell a stranger it was fine to wander over to your house just because you were neighbors?!

And yet, the way his large body looked so small in front of you, like he was pleading with you to let him in…

“I-I did…” You relaxed your face enough to smile at him, your nerves still eating at you and a headache starting to set in from the intensity of his. You stepped aside to let him in, to which his head shot up and his eyes widened— you suppose he didn’t think you would actually let him in, but the sudden, yet agreeable change in his emotional blips was enough to tell you that he was relieved, pleased even, as he stepped in from the rain. “I should probably get you a towel, huh?”

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Before you knew it, you were preparing a light lunch for when Namjoon arrived for your book meeting on Monday, the previous nights’ events pushed aside, but not forgotten. When you had woken up Sunday morning, Yoongi was still soundly sleeping on your couch, face pressed into the back cushions and hands wedged between his knees. You had smiled fondly at the scene, nostalgia flashing images of his past sleeping habits like a slideshow in your mind. Somehow, you were perfectly content with being his friend— now at least, the first two years after the breakup had been filled with sad one-sided longing to be embraced by him.

You only lingered in the living room for a few moments before passing through to the kitchen, starting a pot of coffee immediately, knowing that the man on the couch would be in need of it when he finally woke. It wasn’t long after the brewing process started that the half-asleep zombie staggered into the kitchen in search of the dark liquid. You laughed when he walked directly into the kitchen island before sliding into one of the bar chairs at the counter. He never brought up the incident, nor did he comment on your disheveled appearance, ever the gentleman. You fed him a simple breakfast of cereal, and allowed him to drink more than half your pot of coffee before he slinked home, looking only a little more alive than he had when he first emerged.

The rest of the day had been just as unproductive as the last and you were significantly more relaxed than you thought you’d be, though you had gone to bed with all of the lights on in your house once more. Now you were making bibimbap and bulgogi for Namjoon’s arrival Monday morning as you struggled to keep the eerie feeling of being watched from creeping under your skin.

Cooking for Namjoon had quickly been established as tradition for your meetings. The first time you did it, it was due to the fact that the two of you were meeting at your house at dinner time and Namjoon had confessed to not having eaten. Instead of ordering takeout, you quickly whipped something up for the two of you and discussed the manuscript of your book over tteokbokki. He complimented your cooking to the point that you had unknowingly agreed to cook for him each time he visited, not that you particularly minded preparing food, you just weren’t sure how it had gotten to that point. It was nice, though, to share a meal with someone; especially someone as intelligent and handsome as your editor.

The rice for the bibimbap was just about done when you felt the familiar tingle of another person’s presence enter your perimeter, and judging by the inquisitive yet poetic nature of the emotions connected to this individual, you could only assume that it was Namjoon. Soon, a knock came at your front door and you called out, letting him know that the door was unlocked and that he may enter.

“Y/N?” He called, closing the door behind him. You leaned over the kitchen island, hands wet from washing lettuce, and beckoned him into the kitchen. You saw his form appear, clad in a tan trench-style coat, white button-down, black slacks, and think-rimmed glasses. He had a laptop bad slung over his shoulder, obviously containing his electronic device as well as several other packets of paper if you had to guess by the size.

“I’m just finishing up preparing lunch,” You hummed, happy that your company has finally arrived and you were no longer alone with your thoughts. The tall man placed his bag on the quarts surface and shuffled out of his coat— one that he clearly did not need as it was still early September and still clinging to the warmth of summer. He draped it over the back of one of the pub stools at the island and propped himself on his forearms against the counter, peering at the food being fixed.

“Smells good,” He mused, a pleased warmth spreading through your body and letting you know that he was happy with the cuisine he saw. You were suddenly then hit by the sharp pang of hunger he sent your way. Normally, you’d think nothing of it considering hunger is one of the most common things you experience from other people. However, this time it instantly brought you back to the faint, yet no less potent reading you received from the creature outside your house two evenings ago— its hunger crawled under your skin like an army of insects marching in every direction, the detached curiosity only making it more violent.

The ceramic cup you had pulled from the cabinet to offer Namjoon a drink with slipped from your hand, shaken by the memory, and it shatters on the floor, startling both you and your editor. You stare at the once beautiful cup before turning to Namjoon, who’s eyes were large and alarmed, with an embarrassed grin. You could feel the concern and fright spiking from the man in front of you, but most notably there was confusion.

“What happened? Are you okay?” You stepped back from the pile of shards on your floor with a small smile— Namjoon was a genuine person; caring, intelligent, lyrical, and even if you weren’t empathic, you feel as though you’d have no problem understanding him and his emotions. He made everything apparent in his words and actions.

“I’m okay,” You replied, slipping out of the kitchen quickly and retrieving your broom and dust pan before scurrying back to the mess you’d created. “Wet hands.” You gave a light laugh, trying to explain away your upset.

Your editor didn’t know about your empathic abilities, and you really didn’t feel the need to tell him. In a sense, it was nice having someone that didn’t have expectations of having their emotions perceived by an outside source, which, if you thought about it, was rather invasive and you could understand how it might make people uncomfortable. While you considered Namjoon a friend, he was also your editor, so it was less about you trusting him, and more about keeping your relationship on a more professional spectrum.

As you began sweeping, the kind man straightened completely and attempted to round the island.

“Do you want some help?” His inquire has you shaking your head and pleasantly grinning at him.

“No, it’s fine, I got it. Sorry about this,” you swept the fragments into a small pile and collected it in the dustpan before making your way over to the trash bin on the other side of the peninsula separating your kitchen from your dining space. Namjoon gave a snort laced in amusement.

“Why are you sorry? It was your cup….” When you returned to your original spot you noticed his left eyebrow quirked, clearly entertained by your needless apologies. You rolled your eyes playfully and began fussing with the food once more.

“Just go sit down,” you said turning your back to him when you heard the tell-tale ‘click’ of your rice cooker alerting you to the completing of the rice for the bibimbap. Thankfully, you had already placed two large bowls out in preparation and simply began filling the bowls about a third of the way with the steaming rice.

Behind you, you heard Namjoon treading away from the kitchen and towards your small kitchen table set up in front of the large windows that made up the entirety of the back wall facing the lake on the first floor of your house. You only had four chairs for the table in total, however you rarely ever had the need of all four and opted to keep two, as you usually only had one visitor at a time. He unpacked his bag into a neat pile and set it to the side, obviously intent on eating before getting to the heart of the meeting.

“Do you want anything to drink?” You asked, successfully removing two glasses from your cabinet without incident this time. You filled yours with iced barley tea, a favorite of yours in the heat of the summer.

“Whatever you’re having is fine,” He answered as he plopped himself into a chair at the table. You felt the anticipation buzzing in the air and stifled a laugh— the man really wanted his food. So, you poured his drink and delivered both glasses to the table before returning to the kitchen to bring the remaining items out for your lunch.

Once both of you were sat, the food presented appetizingly, the two of you settled into comfortable conversation. Lunch with Namjoon was always pleasant because Namjoon was pleasant— you could talk about anything, and any topic could easily slip into something philosophical. You enjoyed this; the intellectual talk kept your mind sharp and fulfilled, and you always felt the most satisfied after a long talk.

You had considered Namjoon a potential partner at one point, and when the two of you had first met, it was immediately apparent that he too had been attracted to you. But breaching the line between professional and personal relationship was not something that you particularly wanted to risk. Plus, you still had the lingering pain of your experience with Yoongi to keep you in check. And so, not wanting to experience another person falling out of love with you again, you kept any feelings to yourself until both yours and Namjoon’s sentiments faded into a fond friendship not unlike the one you had with Yoongi now.

Once the two of you had your fill, you placed the dirtied dishes in the sink to wash later and returned to the kitchen table where Namjoon was booting up his computer and sifting through a folder of papers. You almost huffed in disappointment— time to get down to business. You excuse yourself for a moment to grab your journal from your office.

You only needed to be in your office for a moment— just long enough to seize your journal and turn back to return to Namjoon in your kitchen. Your desk was facing the window overlooking the water; you liked looking out at the diamonds of sunlight dace across the ripples as you let your imagination carry you away too far off land. Whilst retrieving your notes you gazed out the window absentmindedly only to find something out of place. Or rather, something that didn’t belong.

There, standing at the edge of the water, was a man of rather average height and a mop of black hair on his head. You were frozen momentarily, something about the scene reminding you of your chilling visitor from the other night. Taking a deep breath to stabilize your racing thoughts enough to think rationally, your mind pulled a small piece of information out of your haze.

Seokjin’s roommate. The one he said would probably be wandering around. The one you saw on their property before. It must be him; it has to be him— the shaggy dark hair, though you only saw it from afar last time, was surely enough to tell you it was this mystery roommate.

You released a few more uneven breaths, holding your journal tightly by your side, and you took him in now that you had a better view. He was still outside your radius, so you couldn’t get a read on him, and his back was facing you as he stared out over the water, but you could tell he had a well-built form beneath his loose-fitted clothing. His stature though… was he smaller than your nightmare? Or was the presence of the specter looming outside your house that night so overwhelming that you had imagined him much larger than he truly was?

The man tilted his head slightly and you caught just the slightest view of his jawbone. You jumped slightly for reasons unbeknownst to you. It almost felt like he knew you were watching him silently from within your home. However, your startled brain soon posed the question: why on earth was he in your yard?

“Y/N” You heard Namjoon call, though he sounded close; was he calling from the bottom of the stairs? Backtracking, your eyes lingered on him for as long as your retreating form would allow before quickly darting down the stairs to find that your editor was, in face, awaiting you at the bottom. He wasn’t looking at you, though. He was staring out towards the back of your house and when you joined him on the ground floor you focused your attention in the same direction. “There’s someone in your yard…” You nodded at his statement, a still bit bewildered yourself.

“Yup…” You said, glancing at the tall man beside you before turning back to gaze out your window. “I think he’s my new neighbor,” you mused, more to yourself than your companion. You cleared your throat then, gaining his attention as you peered up at him. “Should, uh… should we go say hi?” Your brows furrowed, trying to express the uncertainty buzzing about. You could feel the same spike within Namjoon, however there was a bit of humor laced within it.

“We? He’s your neighbor,” he teased, causing you to send him a disgruntled, yet good-natured scowl. He chuckled at that, rolling his eyes as he nudged you with his elbow. “Like I would let you go out there with some weird dude.” Sighing, he began towards the back door, “Come on. We’ll say hi, send him home, and then finally get the meeting started.” You trailed after him, placing your journal on the kitchen table as Namjoon opened the door and stepped out. You followed suit, closing the door as to not let the cool air out of your house. The moment the door clicks shut, the mystery boy at the edge of the late spins to look at you, his gaze guarded at first. As you approached, what you felt made your blood run cold.

There was virtually nothing.

There were blips of emotions like caution and fear, even aggression. But there was nothing substantial to latch onto and this was both exciting and terrifying. How was it possible that he was evading your senses? How could he be keeping his feelings from flooding into you? Was he aware of your abilities? Or was he naturally repressive?

Not human.

You visibly tensed and stopped your approach, causing Namjoon to halt as well and turn to you in confusion, though you hardly noticed the taller man as you take in the daunting stranger. Now that you were within closer proximity, you were able to see his face— and he was stunning. You drank in his round eyes, sharp jawline, perfectly full lips, and flawless golden skin, each feature just as impeccable as the last. He was quite possibly the loveliest person you’d ever seen, and yet there was something unsettling about his beauty, the ethereal air radiating off of him almost too dreamlike.

Not human.

Your heart rate sped up, the same disturbing feeling from the other night creeping into your bones and setting your nerve endings alight. The dark-haired stranger locked eyes with you, and suddenly the small blips of intense emotions shifted— they were still on high alert, still nervous, but there was suddenly a softness to them, almost as if he were being cautious for you, rather than being cautious of you. At this, you couldn’t help the slight furrow of your brow as you regained your slow stride towards the boy, only stopping when you reached Namjoon’s side.

The unfamiliar man flicked his gaze between the two of you guardedly, looking as if he were to take off into the woods again any moment. You made no indication that you were going to initiate conversation, which Namjoon noticed and fortunately took the obligation from you at a low clearing of his throat.

“Uh, hello?” His deep voice and small step forward caught the other male’s attention and his eyes sharpened, locking onto your editor’s form. You felt a shiver at the aggressive spike in the air, both from Namjoon, and from the blips of emotion you could pick up from the stranger. Clearly Namjoon had picked up on the hostility directed towards him as well, and luckily for everyone, he was a smart man with a level head. However, he wasn’t immune to emotional outbursts, and the unwarranted behavior from this weird boy was clearly ticking him off.

“I-I’m Y/N!” you interjected quickly, trying to dispel the tenseness in the air to avoid a brawl. At your voice, the beautiful visitor snapped his eyes to you, still very much heavily guarded, and you sucked in a shallow breath through your nose. His gaze a piercing, almost as if he could see every muscle twitch, every pulse of your heart from where he stood— almost predatory.

You tried to control your heart beat, but with no success. Penetrating eyes, no stable emotional readings, predatory stare, defensive like a cornered animal…

Not human.

His eyes flicked between you and Namjoon, his body tense and when you glanced at his feet you saw that he was poised to dart off at any moment. What worried you is that you didn’t know if he meant to run at you, or away from you. You attempted talking to him again, hoping to calm him, but not before taking a step back away from him and sliding a bit closer to Namjoon.

“You’re Seokjin’s roommate, right? It’s nice to meet you…” You kept your voice as steady and pleasant as you could. He continued to scrutinize you, and you continued to try and hone in on what his intentions were, still only catching the small blips of hostility and distress at first until you saw his shoulders relax fractionally and you caught the smallest spark of the gentle caution you had earlier.

“Who’s Seokjin?” You heard Namjoon whisper to you, causing another aggressive spike in the air. This time, your head throbbed as well; an oncoming migraine more than likely caused by how hard you were trying to focus on your mysterious neighbor. You winced slightly, looking at Namjoon and withdrawing your abilities as much as you could.

“He’s—”

“KIM TAEHYUNG!” Speak of the Devil, and so shall he appear. All three of you snapped your head in the direction of the voice that you vaguely recognized as your new neighbor. You saw him before you sensed him, and usually feelings began faint and grew stronger as they neared you. However, when he entered the radius in which your abilities were effective, you were blind-sided by the power of his emotions. Anger, fear— panic, panic, panic. Always with the panic with this man; was he always going to be this intense? At least now his face matched his emotions. Breath knocked from your lungs, you nearly doubled over by the force and you immediately became overwhelmed, only finding little relief in your editor’s voice giving you something different to focus on.

“Seokjin?” He asked you, to which you nodded. The scattered throbbing in your head became a cutting pain, one that had you shying away from the sunlight and gritting your teeth. You felt a wave of concern come from Namjoon at your sudden change in behavior and your sent him a tight smile in return to reassure him.

“Yeah, he just moved into the house up the lake…” Namjoon nodded, taking in this information, and you both turned to readdress the other men before you. Seokjin had made his way to his roommate’s side quickly, clearly out of breath from his fast pace, and you expected the black-haired boy to be looking at the purple-haired man. Except, he wasn’t; his gaze bore into your own as you made eye-contact and you froze, unable to look away. His eyes were onyx, so dark that you couldn’t see his pupils, and completely bottomless, as if they were a gate to the deepest part of the universe.

“What are you doing here?!” Seokjin’s voice ripped through your hypnosis as you regained some of your composure, taking in the situation before you. Your neighbor was furious; his anger like hot coals burning behind your eyelids. His hand was wrapped around the boy’s forearm as if to ensure he wouldn’t be escaping his wrath. “When I said you could go outside, I specifically told you not to wander out of our yard, Taehyung! Why did you leave?!” Despite the fuming man’s temper, Taehyung, so you assume, gave very little as a reaction. He blinked at Seokjin and then pouted lightly like a scolded child. He glanced back in your direction before looking at his feet.

“I like it here better…” The baritone of his voice caught you off guard— the softness of his masculine face led you to believe his voice would be just as soft, but you realized that deep dulcet voice was a beautiful contrast to his looks. Strangely, you felt yourself eager to hear him speak again, as if his voice held some sort of magic over you. Instead, you heard Seokjin scoff.

“And that seemed like a good enough reason to disobey me? You know you can’t just be walking around—”

“Excuse me?” You nearly jumped at Namjoon’s interruption, as you had been too consumed by the unearthly boy with the deep voice. When you looked at Namjoon, you saw the exasperated irritation and confusion you felt lying beneath Seokjin’s anger written clearly on his face. You almost wanted to laugh, except you were just as confused as he was. What was going on here? This entire situation was absurd; a strange boy wanders into your yard, doesn’t speak to you, and then your furious new neighbor comes barreling in to scold the boy who is his roommate? So much for your peaceful sanctuary in the middle of the woods.

“Oh my God,” Seokjin finally seems to realize that you and Namjoon were in attendance, and the panic again overrides his anger to the point that you want to twist your face at it as if it were sour candy. Though, once more, you were pleased to find the panic present on his face. “I’m sorry! Did Taehyung disturb you?” Said boy’s pout deepened as he snuck glances at you, which you vigorously ignored due to the strange spell he had seemed to cast on you earlier.

“Actually—” You cut off Namjoon before his temper got the best of him. He was noticeably, and rightfully, annoyed at the moment. He had come here for lunch and a meeting, not to get wrapped up in some nonsensical drama that he probably had no time for. Still, you’d like to stay on good terms with your neighbors if at all possible, so you chirped up in an attempt to mellow-out the pressure hanging in the air.

“N-no! It’s fine, we just weren’t sure who he was…” You trailed off with an awkward laugh, hoping that Seokjin’s emotions would ease up and allow you the opportunity to breath. It seemed to work fractionally as you felt a small wave of relief. There was no hope for Namjoon’s irritation on the other hand— he would likely be in this mood for the rest of the day.

“Oh! Yeah, sorry about that,” the purple-haired man let out a tense laugh. “He’s not supposed to be out too much… he’s quite ill, so he’s often in bed.” Ah, there it is again. “I guess he got a bit restless and wanted to wander.” Again, more truths, half-truths, and lies and you were unable to decipher which was what. Still, that little voice inside your head was telling you to leave it be, Seokjin’s a good person. How frustrating.

“Oh, um, well my house isn’t too far from yours…He’s welcome to stop by from time-to-time if he’s able…” Perhaps then you could better understand why you couldn’t get full readings off of him. At your suggestion, you saw the boy in question look up at you, suddenly, with a child-like hope shining on his face. He was almost… cute. His hope was crushed, however, when Seokjin attempted to refuse your offer.

“No, I wouldn’t want to impose,” He looked at Taehyung, who looked back at him with the pout he had been sporting earlier. A melancholy leaked into the air slowly, something along the lines of remorse. At what you couldn’t place, but it was an unexpected emotion from the man who seemed to have no shame.

“It’d be no problem… It’d be nice to have company every once-in-a-while,” You assured him that having the sickly boy over wouldn’t be an issue, but it seemed to do very little to persuade him. Still, he seemed weak to Taehyung’s pouting face as you felt his resolve melt a bit.

“Well… we’ll see…” He said, looking back at you. Taehyung looked back at you as well, pout gone and entire demeanor brighter, sharp blips of excitement popping in the air like fireworks. He was cute. Namjoon, who had been standing grumpily at your side as you attempted to sooth the parties involved in this incident, had become quite impatient, and while you felt bad, you also knew that a smile was spreading onto your lips at his expense.

“Well, just know that it’s okay with me!” You placed your hand on Namjoon’s shoulder, getting the full brunt of his frustration though it was no less amusing to you. “We should head back in and finish our meeting,” You felt a string of emotions rolling off your tall friend that could all be condensed into the word ‘finally.’ Seokjin nodded, sliding behind Taehyung to grasp his other arm before he turned the both of them and began pushing the boy along back towards their house.

“I need to get him back home anyway,” He smiled— charming, lovely, and not completely sincere— and Taehyung sent you what you assumed was his signature pout. “Sorry for taking your time!” You wanted to laugh at their antics, but instead sent a friendly wave.

“It was nice to meet you, Taehyung!” You called after them, and you swore you saw his shoulders tense a bit. Once they were down the lake’s shoreline and out of view, Namjoon turned to you with an unamused face. You could only shrug, not knowing what exactly he wanted to hear from you, and he heaved a loud sigh and rolled his eyes.

“I still have a little time left. Let’s go talk about that book, shall we?” He said gruffly, making his way back to your house.

Ah. Right… about that…