#rmbyul

@rmbyul​

jongin shuts his phone with a thwack! and grimaces, throwing it onto his bed and swinging open the door to this closet. there was no need to even look to confirm what jongin already knew. despite the fact that he visits the beach once a week to swim, no red or white swimming suit. shit. why did sehun pick baywatch of all things? the alpha house will be buzzing with drunken kids in color-matching swim suits in less than twelve hours. embarrassing, to say the least.

monster rush was the worst time of the year. the swim suit was the least of his problems at this point. first, more importantly—

he goes back to his bed, snatches up his phone and opens up the list of his message threads. her thread is the second most recent. last text message received:

[ byul ⇢ jongin: thurs, 11.03pm ] 👅👅👅

he punches out a quick message and hits send.

@rmbyul​

in the dull of a quiet, nondescript swim shop, there he stands, head bopping to a faint tune played on an overpriced speaker. this is how he spends his day: fingers gliding lazily along racks upon racks of swim shorts; taking articles of clothing off the rack, only to put them back again when he decides they’re not the perfect shade of red he’s looking for.

(or sometimes they are, but they’re overpriced and he thinks of all the money he could save and give to halmi instead, and so he puts them back again.)

he spends another ten minutes perusing before he settles on three swim trunks of varying shades, none of which are quite the neon red he envisioned.

and so he walks towards the change rooms, head held high while he whistles along with the background music. but as soon as he enters the narrow hallway, what he sees forces him to come to a halt.

his motive for coming here has since been forgotten. instead, he leans his forearm against the wall as an ever growing smirk tugs on his lips. eyes drift lazily down the length of her tight body, and his tongue presses against his cheek in amusement. her.

“you almost look like a lady,” he voices, making his presence known.

he pushes himself off the wall and steps towards her, and a low chuckle falls from his lips as his eyes drift downward once again.

there, he stops right in front of her.

and there, he obnoxiously brushes his finger against the bottom of her chin.

@rmbyul

live among wolves and there’s no mistake that you will become part of the pack. the alphas are not simply just one among a group: they stand as their own, and together, and in the same way, jaewon has never felt more at home than in a place surrounded by monsters. they can’t be their own kind of villains and heroes if there isn’t a fight to be had, and his veins are thrumming with too much alcohol, and his brain is lost in it. there’s a girl, nearby, who he recognises ( but who doesn’t he recognise, really? ), and he insists it’s boredom, reasons that it must be because he needs a distraction, and in a party like this, there simply isn’t enough –

he reaches for her arm, and gives it a little tug.

@rmbyul​

a mess of legacy kids—some already on the verge of drunkenness, some high off the extravagance of the alpha mansion—stream into the building, absentmindedly picking up their legacy pins from the baskets and spreading like wildfire in their bright red swimsuits. first years, as they always do, run for the pool and others, more seasoned members, dash for the huge display of alcohol in the center of the living room. there is a heightened sense of urgency in the air tonight. the youth are electric, bouncing from wall to wall, babbling like school children.

jongin picks a jaeger pin from the bowl as he enters. the pin is shaped as a white skull—their inauspicious emblem—and it weighs heavy in his palm with real metal and ivory. the quality of such a mundane thing was to be expected of the alpha house, whose budget could rival a whole college within gumi. “must be the gimmick this year,” he remarks, attaching it to his plain white shirt—an addition to his costume that one of the alpha bouncers sneered at.