#himchancel

5: eyelid kiss

the black eye was noticeable. thewitch almost whined at the sight of it. the bruise was awful. “the lip seems better.” Hara told him,offering him a friendly smile. it wouldn’t be enough to reward him for whathappened, but she wanted him to understand she didn’t have anything againsthim. the hunters didn’t even know Himchan was a nephilim. they only attackedhim, because Hara had screamed. If he hadn’t showed up out of nowhere to greether, any of this would have happened. Himchan was the one to blame(theoretically speaking), but she didn’t have the guts to mention it to him. 

Seunghyun's talons were long and sharp, thinning at the points but never weak or brittle. In an agitated state of mind, they protracted out through his fingers, numbing the sensations in his hands and allowing him to dig his claws into dirt, wood, and sometimes even stone. They were mostly helpful if he ever tried climbing up walls or digging for something in the ground, but not for running away. Being half dragon didn't mean he was faster or smarter at evading hunters, only more agile and a better judge of how to cross long distances- if he were to jump across rooftops for example.

Which was basically his best move whenever he got cornered by hunters, in a fight he knew he couldn't win. Get to higher ground. Then find somewhere to hide. It wasn't that he didn't like fighting, or didn't have any blood-thirst (he'd killed plenty of humans by now, innocent or otherwise) but if he could manage to get away without the bloodstains on his hands or clothes, that would be option number one. It wasn't his fault that he'd been born this way, he had no stake in the war occuring around him, but none of the hunters ever thought of it like that. It wasn't his fault, but he supposed it wasn't their fault either.

Honestly, his hatred for angels and demons themselves was way more ignited.

As it was though, once he was finished running across the tops of buildings, he made it to a nearby park, figuring it would make a good place to lay low for a while. His adrenaline-addled brain could still hear their knives through the air, the clicks of their guns and the padding of their combat boots- even over his heartbeat rushing through his ears. He ducked down into the nearest shrubbery he could find, crouching and hugging his knees as he shut his eyes and forced his breathing to calm. Panting was only going to attract attention.

He waited a few more minutes until he was sure no one was coming, before collapsing onto the ground, his torso falling out of the bushes and onto the grass. He could see the steam rising off his body, his shirt torn, his side bleeding from a cut (from when they'd cornered him), and his fingers twitching as they reshaped into normal hands again. He opened his eyes and counted a few stars before hearing rustling again- immediately putting him on alert once more, but when he turned his head, he looked up into a familiar pair of eyes. "Himchan?....... Fuck." This was definitely not a good night.

[ ✉ → mofochan♡ ] aww.

[ ✉ → mofochan♡ ] i dont miss u oops too bad[ ✉ → mofochan♡ ] go ahead haunt my dreams like u always do[ ✉ → mofochan♡ ] then ignore me in the morning (ㆆ_ㆆ)[ ✉ → mofochan♡ ] pfft[ ✉ → mofochan♡ ] come over…now?[ ✉ → mofochan♡ ] himchan ┌∩┐

[himchan seduces gd in dream]

Jiyong jolts awake and finds himself drenched in cold sweat—something he hasn’t done in a long time. He promptly pulls himself up and yanks his blanket away and hangs his head low, with rugged breaths and a heaving chest. He stones momentarily and lets his eyes fix on the striped patterns of his blanket as he calms himself down and recalls his dream. Jiyong brushes lock of orange hair away from his eyes and teleports himself to get some warm water and back to his room. He sets his mug on the bedside table and slumps back into his queen-sized bed, hands and legs sprawled wide open.

The face he saw in his dreams, one too familiar—the pretty sculpted face, smoldering gaze, slender nose and pink plump lips Jiyong suddenly finds himself hitching a breath at, and he is suddenly angry that that pretty face has yet again come to taunt him by invading his privacy. It definitely couldn’t have been Jiyong’s own subconscious mind freely dreaming about a particular Kim Himchan (could it?).

And what he was dreaming about? Jiyong remembers bits and pieces, what they were doing, and whoever said that you can’t feel when you’re dreaming is bullshit because he could feel just fine. And now the moans ghosted his ears, giving him goosebumps and sends a mild frenzy directly to his groin. “Fuck,” Jiyong curses then covers his face with his hands. The ginger haired vow to hunt down that bastard and he is going to make him know his place—make him beg Jiyong to stop.

Jiyong got up, since he can’t go back to sleep anymore, and quickly washed himself and got dressed. He deliberately clad himself in something classy yet with the hint of skin showing from his collarbone to his chest. He’s pretty sure Himchan’s been messing with his mind lately and he is going to demand for some answers. 

{ ♔ }