#khj

You transferred to an all girls school that week. You stayed there through high school, graduated from there. You didn’t see boys all that often anymore. Boys made you hungry, and not just in the normal, hormonal teenager way. Boys made you hungry in an all encompassing way. You felt it through your whole being. A shock ran down your spine whenever you saw one, like a reboot of your system to something different. You wanted to feel them on you, in between your teeth, run their sinewy flesh around your tongue and feel it drag down your throat. It was dark. It was distressing. It was dirty.

When you applied to college, you had starved yourself to a shell. You didn’t crave anymore. You weren’t a feral animal when you saw a boy. You could control yourself. You could be in public. You could be responsible. Your moms trusted you enough to send you to a co-ed school after many, many protests. You wanted to feel normal. You were normal, for all intents and purposes. You were smart and average-looking. You could disappear into a room. You were quiet and thoughtful. 

“A delight to have in class,” your teachers had said. 

You could go to a normal college.

And so you did.

It was hard. There were so many smells. There was so much flesh. There was so much darkness. The campus didn’t have enough light poles, not enough blue emergency lights. There was so much opportunity.

One night, you were walking back from a lecture. You had gotten unlucky enough to have an eight o’clock lecture on Fridays. You were a junior. You and your roommates had just turned twenty one. They were bummed to have to wait for you to get back from class to start pre-gaming, but they usually did it. They were sweet like that. You walked home in the dark, too impatient to wait for the bus. The soft crunch of leaves under your feet soothed you as you walked. You pulled your scarf up a little higher to cover the bottoms of your ears. The wind rustled through the trees. A rabbit darted through the brush and crossed your path. You froze. So did it. It locked eyes with you and tensed. You did not dare move. Then, something hit your shoulder. You wheeled around, your keys gripped tightly in your fist. You took two sharp steps back and dropped your shoulders. Loose and fluid, you glared.

It was a boy.

A very drunk, very handsome boy. He held his hands up in front of him and leaned his upper body back, as if to get out of arm’s reach from you. The yellow streetlight backlit him and a halo cast over his head catching his flyaways in the light. The only feature you could make out was a wide smile. You grimaced and put your fist down. You hadn’t even heard him.

“My bad, girl,” he laughed lightly as he slurred the words out, “Wasn’t watching where I was going.”

You spun around on your heels and walked away. You might be able to be in the same place as boys, but that didn’t mean that you talked to them. At least not often. Your moms told you boys were trouble. You starved it out for so long. One cute boy slurring in your face and smiling isn’t going to change that for you. You heard him giggle behind you and the crunching doubled. You kept your head down, fists shoved deep into your pocket.

“So, where’r’ya headed?” his words strung together, lazy and relaxed, like he didn’t think you would do anything after your little show. You didn’t respond.

He nudged your shoulder with his own. It was soft and was almost a brush. You jumped away as if he had punched you.

“Don’t touch me,” you grit. He giggled again.

“Sorry, sorry. Well, I’m headed to Werz. I was just wonderin’ if you wanted some company to walk with,” he replied, you could hear his smirk as he talked. He smelled like Budweiser and cheap cologne. He was far too close to you. You walked ahead of him, putting distance between your bodies. He walked faster to catch up with you.

“Fuck, dude,” his breath came a little heavier now, “You walk so fucking fast.”

You huffed a breath out of your nose. He was stubborn.

“I don’t want to walk with you. Leave me alone.”

He whined softly, “I’m just tryin’ to get some company until I hit my friend’s place. It’s freaky out here.”

You acquiesced.

He walked with you to your apartment building. It was on campus, but tucked far back into the woods. Most upperclassmen didn’t want to live here because of how isolated it was. You and your friends liked that. It was quiet. It meant no one bothered you when you pre-gamed or when game night got too intense or when a breakup was really bad. As you approached the front door, you held out your hand.

“You’re not coming in, I don’t even know if your friends really live here. For all I know, you’re a stalker and you’re trying to gut me,” you stated. Ironic.

He grinned, “You’re good, girl. I’ll stay put. Don’t worry.”

You breathed and gave him your back. You swiped your ID on the card reader and heard the click of the lock.

“Hey,” he called out. You stuck your foot in the door and looked over your shoulder, exasperated. He had stayed put. You raised your eyebrow.

“I didn’t get your name.”

“You don’t need it.”

“Well, I’m Hongjoong.”

You rolled your eyes and slipped inside.

There was an itch under your skin the entire way up to your apartment. As you slid the key into the lock, the tell tale sounds of your roommates getting ready filled your ears. When you opened the door, screeches erupted. You shrugged your shoulders up and raised your hands defensively as the door closed behind you. You locked it.

“My baby!” You felt an arm around your shoulders and you were pulled further into the apartment. The warmth of the room was tangible. The soft orange light from a salt lamp in the corner, the lotus candle lit on the kitchen counter, your friends giggling with cups pressed to their mouths.

“She’s back! Behold!” your roommate, Tiffany, exclaimed to your other roommate. You laughed as she continued to press you to her chest.

“Let her go, Tiff. She’s gotta get ready,” Kendall, ever sensible, laughed through her words.

“How much did you guys have? I was gone for like two hours,” you peeled off your backpack and coat, laying them on the ground next to the arm chair before plopping into it.

Kendall shook her head. “Tiff went too hard during King’s. You just missed the boys.”

You sighed and stood up. “Good, I’m glad.”

“They’ll be back. They went to grab their friend,” Kendall’s eyes sparkled as she lifted her cup to her lips. You rolled your eyes and waved her off. You retreated down the hallway to the bathroom. Closing the door behind you and flicking on the light, you took in your appearance in the mirror. You looked rough. Your eyes looked dull, your skin a little sallow, your hair frazzled from the fall wind. You splashed your face with cold water, brushed your teeth, and put on some makeup. You exited to the bathroom to rousing cheers and you assumed the boys had returned.

Wooyoung’s voice echoing down the hall confirmed it, “What’s up ladies?”

You could hear his sleazy smile and you shook your head. You stepped into your room and opened your closet. As you flipped through your hangers, a soft knock came on your door.

“What?” You sounded sharper than you intended.

“It’s me,” a low voice came on the other side of the door.

You smiled softly and looked at the floor. You felt the tips of your ears heat up a bit. You padded over to the door, ever quiet, and pulled it open. You stuck your head out.

“Hey, Min. I’ll be out in a second.”

Mingi was the only one of the boys down the hall that you really liked. While you, Tiffany, and Kendall had been lucky enough to snag a quad of singles with one room being empty, the boys down the hall were squashed into a double-triple—three double rooms, six boys stuffed in a tiny apartment. They were nice enough, but obnoxiously loud. They had invited your apartment over in the beginning of last year, and while you were not initially going to go over your roommates dragged you along. You had sat on their uncomfortable loveseat the whole night, blending into the background like you always did. You had grown from the quiet child in the back of the classroom, but you still didn’t like boys or attention. Mingi was different, though. You didn’t want him like that. He was soft and quiet where the others were loud. While his roommates demanded attention from you and your roommates, Mingi observed. He had joined you on the loveseat that night, one cushion in between you two, and hadn’t tried to talk to you much. He respected your space. He didn’t try to talk to you, or touch you. He let you initiate. And you respected him for that. You struck up a friendship of silence. One with knowing looks shared across the room at your mutual friends’ antics and quiet exchanges of items. He knew you better than you knew yourself sometimes, and you appreciated him for it. 

His body was pressed against the doorway, his shoulders blocking you from the view of nosy friends.

“I brought a friend tonight,” he smiled knowingly.

You rolled your eyes and stepped away from the door, opening it a bit wider to let him in, “Not tonight, Min. I’m not in the mood.”

“You don’t even know what I was going to say,” he laughed and threw himself on your bed. He sprawled himself sideways, feet hanging off the side, and pushed himself up on his elbows.

“I so do, Mingi. You act like I don’t know you,” you turned back to your closet and thumbed through options. Too dark, too light, too heavy, not heavy enough, too bulky, too–

“Wear that one,” Mingi spoke up from behind you and you pulled the top out from the closet. It was lowcut, black, with silky material. It was a staple in your wardrobe. He knew you were going to pick it anyway. You pulled your shirt over your head before slipping on the top.

“Anyways, you don’t know what I was going to say. You just think you do. I think you’ll like him,” he said from your bed, looking down at his phone to give you privacy. You pulled your hair out from the collar of the shirt and let it hit your shoulders.

“I won’t like him, Mingi. I never like any of your friends,” you rolled a few silver bangles on your wrist and pulled open your drawers to find a pair of jeans that didn't smell like a stale library. Mingi had been on a mission, despite your protests, to find you a boyfriend. He said it was because he thought you were lonely. You thought he was just instigating.

“Do you have pants on yet?” he asked, not looking up from his phone.

You buttoned up your jeans and turned to find a belt, “Yes.”

He sat up further, fully sitting on the edge of your bed now, and he thrusted his hands out in front of him, “Why won’t you let me help you? You know I love you. I wouldn’t pick any fucker just because.”

You turned over your shoulder and raised your eyebrow. He shifted uncomfortably before shrinking back a bit and tucking his shoulders up. He had forgotten about the time he tried to set you up with Wooyoung who had tried to touch you before you had even gotten out of the building. When he had reached out to grab your waist, you had snagged his wrist and pinned it back between his shoulder blades. You and Wooyoung never got to your dinner reservation and you didn’t talk for two weeks after that. 

All of the boys knew your rules. 

Don’t touch. 

Don’t speak without being spoken to. 

Stay out of your room. 

Three simple rules that you expected these boys to follow to be friends with you. The second one had been loosened since your roommates had become closer to them, but few dared to break it, except Mingi. He was the exception, all things considered. You didn’t have the urge to hurt him. He didn’t make you feel hungry. He made you feel like starving it out had worked. He made you feel normal.

“I just don’t get what you get out of this. Like, what does me having a boyfriend do for you?” you glanced at him through the mirror on your dresser. He met your eyes and they twinkled.

“It gets you out of my hair for a bit,” you grabbed the nearest item, a hairbrush, and hurled it at him. He crossed his arms over his face and leaned back as he laughed, one foot lifting off the floor.

“Okay, okay. I get it,” he laughed, breathless for a moment before continuing, “I don’t know. I just want you to be happy. I love you, dude. You’re closed off as all hell and I want someone else to break open that shell.”

You turned and met his eyes, grabbed a pair of shoes from your shoe rack, and opened your door, “I am happy, Mingi. I don’t need a boyfriend.”

And that was that. He lifted himself from your bed with a groan and left your room, you shut the light off and locked the door behind you. As you walked down the hallway, you could hear your friends laughing and you felt a smile tug on your lips. Overlapping voices reached a peak as you and Mingi walked into the living room.

“The woman of the hour!”

“Were you guys fucking in there?”

“Dude, you have to see this.”

The last voice caught your ear as you turned to Yunho, Mingi’s roommate—the one he shared a double with. You turned your head to him and glanced over at his phone, leaning over Kendall’s head as you grasped the back of the armchair. Your lips pulled fully into a smile as you watched a video from the night prior of Wooyoung attempting to breakdance while blackout drunk. You laughed as Wooyoung in the video hit the floor hard after attempting to stand on his hands. You glanced around the room for the first time since walking in, spotting a familiar head of orange hair.

“Hey, girl. Looks like we meet again,” his lazy smile stretched into something more genuine. You rolled your eyes and Mingi gave him a questioning look.

“She was my walking buddy,” Hongjoong exclaimed as he pointed at you. You boosted yourself into one of the barstools at the kitchen counter and pulled on your shoes, ignoring him completely. Kendall met your eyes over the back of the armchair, she wiggled her eyebrows. You got up and reached over her to grab the bottle of cheap vodka.

“Stop that,” you hissed in her ear.

“So, a walking buddy, huh?” she retorted. You ignored her and poured the vodka into a solo cup before downing it quickly. You repeated that two more times before Tiffany started urging everyone to leave. You grabbed your jacket from off the floor and started toward the door, double checking the presence of your keys in your pocket before opening the door and sliding your foot in front of it to hold it open. As everyone piled out of your apartment, Hongjoong’s eyes slid over you as he passed.

“You look really good, girl.”

You needed to get drunk tonight.

The night passed without incident. No one got kicked out of the bar, no one had any major injuries, no blackouts, and as you all stumbled back to Werz, you felt a sense of dread come over you. The hairs on your neck stood on end. Your blurry eyes slid over the group, counting silently in your head. As much as you could say you disliked the boys down the hall, you did care about them somewhat. They mattered to your roommates, so they mattered to you. Everyone was present to your knowledge. You rubbed a clammy hand over your cheek roughly in an attempt to wake yourself up a bit.

A breath on the back of your neck. You swung your fist around.

“Jesus, fuck!” A head of orange hair whirled back from you, a hand clutching his jaw. “Hell of a right hook, baby.”

“What the fuck?” You could tell you were yelling from the hoarseness in your throat, but you couldn’t hear anything over the blood pounding in your ears. “What the fuck is your problem? You think it’s funny to sneak up on people? Seriously, what the fuck is your problem, dude?”

Mingi had grabbed your arm and you realized you had gotten closer to Hongjoong in the past twenty seconds. Your hand was fisted in his collar, which you released as Mingi pulled you back. You saw his almost manic smile as his eyes widened like he knew something you didn’t. You faltered at that, stumbling into Mingi as he pulled you into him. You broke your arm out of Mingi’s hold and you stormed off, gently pushing past your friends to get to the front of the group. You had the apartment keys, so it’s not like it was a problem. They all stood there, frozen after the altercation that had just happened.

Kendall and Tiffany whipped around to the boys, angry. You could hear them screaming at them as you continued to walk ahead. Eventually, two pairs of heeled footsteps hurriedly approached from behind you. You felt two arms link through your own, one hand reaching into your pocket to unball your fist and take it within their own.

“Are you okay, babes?” Kendall leaned into you, her head on your shoulder as you all stumbled home. She was worried, they both were. You don’t react like that. Ever. You were level-headed, almost monk-like most of the time. You were the mediator, the balance between Tiffany’s lax attitude and Kendall’s type-A tendencies. You didn’t lose your cool like that. It’s just not like you.

“He just scared me,” you whispered, watching your feet crunch into the leaves below. Your hand hurt and you flexed it. Tiffany pulled it out from your pocket and rubbed gently over your knuckles. The rest of the walk home was silent.

You didn’t see Hongjoong for two more months. You assumed he lived on campus, too, but you got lucky enough that your paths never crossed. Your nerves felt fried after that night and you couldn’t stand to be in the room with the boys for more than ten minutes. Your friends assumed that you were holding it over them, a sort of anger-by-proxy, but every time you were in the room with them you couldn’t help but feel hungry.

You called your moms once your roommates began to bother you about it. They begged and pleaded for you to come out to the bar with them, but you made up an excuse every time. Too tired, too busy, have to study, have to work early tomorrow. Things that had never stopped you before were now suddenly urgent and needed to be tended to immediately and they began to see the cracks in your excuses.

Your moms picked up on the first ring. They were surprised to hear from you so soon, you had just spoken to them earlier in the week. You told them about the night two months ago, about the scare, about the boy that walked with you to your apartment. There was silence over the line. You took a breath and you told them about his face, how he looked like he knew something.

“Are you alone right now?” one of your moms asked.

“I can be. Gimme a sec,” you scurried off to your room, shut the door, and turned on your white noise machine. Your roommates were both at class right now, but you knew that could change the minute they decided they were bored. Your roommates were smart girls, but it was hard to keep their attention in a lecture hall.

“Okay,” you whispered, you barely sounded like yourself, “I’m alone.”

There was shuffling over the line, and then they spoke, “You know what we are. You know what we can do. You know how hard it was to get rid of it. He’s probably like you, but-”

“What?” you choked out.

“He’s not supposed to be,” your other mom finishes the sentence, “He’s not supposed to be like you, like us. If we’re thinking of the right thing, it’s been a while since we’ve met one like him.”

“Can you stop speaking in code? I hate it when you do this,” you ground your teeth together, your molars ached with the urge to bite. You heard a sound in the back, like flipping through paper.

“Got it,” one of your moms was far from the phone, her voice carried closer to the receiver, “He knows what you are. He knows you’re an eater. He’s not like you, though. He doesn’t eat ‘em alive.”

You grimaced, “Then he eats them dead? Gross.”

A huffed laugh came from the other end of the line, “You’re tellin’ us. It’s different for them. They can smell it on you.”

“Smell what?”

“Death. You haven’t done anything up there, right? Nothing we should know about?” Your moms sounded worried. You hated it when they worried.

“No. Nothing. I don’t do that. I’ve never done that.”

“You did once,” almost a whisper.

“No I didn’t. I would remember something like that.”

“You wouldn’t. You were little. You bit a kid’s ear off on the playground. We played it off like you got too rough. But you did. You swallowed it whole.”

Your chest clenched. You ground your teeth harder. You flexed the fist of your hand not holding the phone. You could hear your blood rushing in your ears.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you asked, shockingly calm.

“We wanted to see if we could get it out of you. Your mom starved it out, but it was harder for her. She ate for longer. It was like withdrawal. It was brutal and intense and we didn’t want you to go through that.” 

You could hear your mom get choked up. You could understand. A parent wants to protect their child from pain and hurt, and you can understand your moms not wanting you to go through such an agonizing process. Still, your eyes stung. Your jaw hurt from grinding your teeth so hard.

“Okay,” you breathed. “I think my roommates are home. I have to go.”

You hang up without hearing their response. You take a deep breath and feel yourself start to cry. You curl up on your bed and you stay like that for a while.

A knock on your door jolts you out of your stupor. You push yourself up and crack your door open.

“We’re going out tonight,” Kendall breathes, trying to be gentle, “Do you want to come?”

You press your temple to the doorframe, the cold bleeding into your warm skin. She brushes her fingers against your wrist and grips gently. Your eyes reached her hopeful smile and you sigh. You know that she knows you’re won over.

She hissed out a ‘Yes!’ between her smile and pumped her fist. She jumped, shaking your arm with her body, and you see Tiffany’s head poke out of her room.

“She said yes?” she yells down the hallway.

“She said yes!”

The three of you got ready in the living room, sat on the floor around your small coffee table with mirrors propped and your makeup bags spilling into each other. There’s a bottle of vodka in the center of the table that you all keep taking loose sips out of. You feel yourself loosened up as the alcohol hits your system and you all catch up. When Tiffany tells you she hooked up with Wooyoung the week prior, you gasped and hit her arm. She laughed and brushed you off, shot a pointed look at Kendall. You looked over to her with your eyebrow raised expectantly. She blushed and shook her head.

You poked her with the end of your makeup brush, “What the fuck did you do?”

Your voice was playful and your smile was bright. She lifted her head and rolled it over her shoulders before taking in a breath and mumbling something under her breath.

“What?” you asked and leaned forward.

“I let Mingi set me up,” she murmured, loud enough for you to hear it that time.

“Oh my god,” you grabbed her wrist, “How was it? Was it good? Wait, who was it?”

Her smile fell and her eyes moved back to the table as she darted her head down. You furrowed your eyebrows and moved to catch her eye.

“Ken, who was it?”

“Hongjoong’s roommate,” she whispered, almost ashamed. You tensed, then swallowed. You took a breath. Your face relaxed and your lips quirked up, genuine. Mingi had normal friends, you reminded yourself, not everyone was like Hongjoong.

“Why are you all freaked out?” you huffed out a laugh as you said it, “Was it good? Did you guys hook up?”

You watched her eyes widen a bit in surprise before recovering and smiling lightly. Her cheeks flushed as she recalled the date and the several since. You and Tiffany laughed as Kendall told a story about the first time she and the man hooked up, in which she fell off the bed and accidentally took him down with her. She looked happy, you thought, and that made you happy.

By the time the three of you are ready, mouths still running and laughs still flowing, there’s a knock on the apartment door. Kendall and Tiffany carried on a conversation in the hallway, yelling out of their respective rooms as they put things away. You peeked through the peephole and saw a flash of orange hair. You jolted back from the door, attempting to slow your breathing. Kendall and Tiffany hadn’t mentioned that Hongjoong was coming. They would have mentioned that. You open the door with the chainlock still attached.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” you hissed, unsure if your roommates even knew he was coming and not wanting them to be around him after your last encounter.

“Wanted to see you,” he smiled, a bit too wide for comfort, “Knew you were coming out tonight and didn’t want to ambush you.”

What did he think he was doing right now?

“Get the fuck out of here, we don’t want you here,” your tone was vicious.

“Nah, we should go on a walk. We can meet everyone at the bar,” he was too light, too easy in how he said it. You squinted at him, your face scrunched up.

“No fucking way. You’re insane. Leave.”

You go to shut the door, but he shoves his foot in between the it and the doorframe.

“I don’t think your friends would like what you do,” he said, looking at the floor. Too casual for comfort. Your eyebrows furrowed and your lip curled up. You hesitated.

You grabbed your jacket, checked the pocket for your keys, and called out to your roommates.

“Hey, I’m going to go run an errand before heading out, I’ll meet you guys at the bar,” you called down the hallway, whines erupting from your roommates as you head out the door and swiftly lock it behind you before they investigated further. You shot a look over at Hongjoong, scathing. He laughed in response. You turned and started to walk down the hallway, but he caught your wrist.

“Not so fast, pretty girl,” he muttered, “Walk with me.”

He slipped his hand into yours and you tried to shake him off, but he just tightened his grip. You felt your heart rate pick up and out of the corner of your eye you saw him smirk.

The winter wind cracked against your cheeks as you walked. You tried to wrench your hand out of Hongjoong’s multiple times, but he wouldn’t let you go. You let him drag you out down the path deeper into the woods surrounding your apartment. When you got deep enough for him, he let go of your hand.

“What’s your problem?” he asked, like you had offended him. You stared at him.

“I know what you are,” you replied.

“I know what you are,” he shot back, smiling. Always smiling.

You shook your head and scrunched your face into something predatory, “Then what am I, Hongjoong? Tell me. What am I?”

“You’re a hunter. You eat,” his voice was soft and almost endeared. You didn’t expect him to say it.

“And you eat dead people,” you shot back. His face lit up and he laughed, a full belly laugh. You stepped back, shifted your body to a guarded position. He scared you, more than anyone else you’ve met.

He stopped laughing slowly, almost coming down from a high before letting out a high pitched breath of air, “Man, Mingi didn’t tell me you were this funny.”

Your heart clenched at the mention of Mingi, you hadn’t seen him since the last night out. You steeled your face and didn’t move your body. If he didn’t eat dead people, then what the fuck was his problem?

“I’m not like you. I do it for fun,” he replied, almost as if hearing your thoughts. Your eyes widened. What the fuck was this guy’s deal?

“For fun?” you deadpanned, “You eat people for fun?”

“Yeah, it’s exciting. I love a hunting trip.”

Your eyes could have bulged out of your head if they got any wider. He was a psychopath. And you were going to die. There was a deep sense of dread in your body, all of your muscles were tensed. You clenched your fists again and he looked down at the action.

“Relax, I’m not going to eat you. You’re too…” he trailed off and put his finger on his chin, lips pouted, “Tendony.”

“Tendony?” your eyebrow raised, disbelief painting your features.

“Girls are too tendony,” he shrugged his shoulders, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, “And too much fat, ulch.”

He made a face like he was spitting out bad food and his whole body shivered. He shook out the feeling. Your body didn’t relax.

“I only eat guys. Call it gay or whatever, I just don’t like girls like that. They taste different, like, bad different,” his body was loose as he spoke, “Plus, guys give you more reason to kill them. And on a college campus, there’s tons of guys to eat.”

That made you curious.

You tentatively relaxed your body, but kept your shoulders angled away in case he tried anything. You cocked your head and squinted.

“What does that mean?”

His eyes flicked over to you and a grin spread across his face, slowly, like it didn’t mean to be there at all. An unconscious expression on someone so calculated.

“I like to hunt. You find a bad guy, you hunt him, you eat him. It’s fun,” he punctuated the last two words individually, as if trying to prove a point that you hadn’t grasped yet.

“So, what? You eat rapists? You’ll get an STD like that.”

“I’ll take you with me sometime, you’ll see that it’s fun. You’ll get it,” he breathed, like it was a relief to get off his chest, like he was sharing a secret between the only two people who could understand.

You opened your mouth to respond, but he had already turned on his heels and was walking out of the dense forest. You stood there sputtering for a moment before following after him.

“Hongjoong, you bastard!”