#kdama

He doesn't say anything else after, driving off. You look out of the window, making sure to watch carefully where he is headed. You can't tell him no no matter how hard you try, though. So after a few minutes, you finally ask. "Where are you taking me?"

"I have a contract that expires today."

You frown, averting your eyes from the outside and staring at him. "What now?"

"A contract. Surely you know what that is."

"I'm not stupid," you roll your eyes, annoyed. There it is. You like this reaction much more than the one you had before when he used his sweet words to lure you in. "What on Earth do you need me for?"

"My powers are gone," he mumbles as if that were to make any sense to you. You watch his hands grip the steering wheel tighter, making sure to keep his eyes on the road and not look at you. You tilt your head to the side. Okay. Maybe this isn't some sick joke he is playing on you. He looks seriously pissed. "And for some stupid reason—" he takes a deep breath, trying to steady himself, "You have them."

"Joshua, I bet you sound really incredible in your own head and that these metaphors make sense to you but—" You don't get to finish your sentence as he reaches for your right wrist, leaning all over the consol to get to you. Your eyes widen, panic over him not having a proper control of the wheel taking over you for a split second. But then the car keeps going in a straight line, no dangerous slips or anything.

"I have no idea why they suddenly jumped to you, but I can't use them without holding you." His eyes look tired. You don't even think he's angry anymore, he just seems exhausted. "Trust me, I tried," he sighs, letting his eyes close for a second. The panic settles in you all over again. How the hell is this car still going safe and steady?

"Joshua, the car—"

"The car won't crash as long as I'm holding your wrist," he assures you, way too calm for your liking. No matter what he believes, what metaphors he is spitting at you hoping you'd understand, this doesn't make any sense. "What do I need to do to have you believe me?"

"Let's start by you paying attention to the road—" Doing the exact opposite of what you just asked him for, he lets go of the wheel completely, leaning back in his seat and gripping your wrist tightly. You watch as the wheel turns on it's own, the car taking a left turn. What the fuck? No, this doesn't— this isn't— "What the fuck?" You breathe out finally.

"Will you finally listen or do I need to let go of your hand and crash the car first?"

Okay, you need to relax. Your eyes flicker all over his calm self, trying to mimic it. The car isn't crashing, you tell yourself. You have no idea how, but he's got it under control. You'll live. "Okay so," you swallow all your worries, turning to face him fully and avoid looking at the road. "What the fuck?" You repeat your previous question, now actually willing to hear his answer.

"I'm not lying to you," his eyes meet yours, doing their best to convince you. "This mark—this tattoo like you like to call it—is not just some ink on your skin. It's mine. And it carries everything I exist for."

So maybe you've gotten Joshua Hong wrong. Maybe he isn't a spoiled brat who never had to work a finger in his childhood which caused him to grow into an asshole. Maybe he is just a mentally ill psycho. That would explain everything, wouldn't it?

But the longer you look into his eyes, the harder it is to think he doesn't believe with every inch of him that what he says is true. What if it is the truth? What if, by some sick twist of the universe, the mark on your wrist does have powers than are now in your body. What if he does have powers? What if there is an entire new world beyond what you've known and trusted your entire life?

You don't say anything else. You can't. The words won't leave your mouth. Instead, you lean back in your seat, staring mindlessly on the road ahead as Joshua drives the car to who knows where—still refusing to put his hands on the wheel.

The car comes to a sudden stop after taking a swift turn. It's only then that you blink out of your thoughts, quickly scanning your surroundings. You're parked in front of a judo studio. Huh? You look at Joshua to question why he took you here, but before you can voice your curiosity, he is leaning over your side, making a little finger gun and whispering, "bang."

Your eyes trail his, landing on a group of four guys standing in front of the entrance. They each have their own gym bag over their shoulder, laughing as soon as they see you in the car. Based on Joshua's proud grin as he leans back in his seat again, you have a hunch they aren't laughing at you but at him. Glancing back at them to apologize, your eyes widen in horror as you watch one of them fall to the ground. "What—" The rest of the men quickly gather around the fallen one, asking what's happening, asking the same you're wondering as Joshua starts the car again and quickly drives off.

"Did you just kill the guy??" You question, petrified.

"The terms of our deal came to an end," he says simply. "He killed himself."

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