His lips quaked and his eyes searching for the living in his friendâs pupils. The other wasnât the same; not the one that existed in his elementary days. Itâs similar to talking to a psychotic killer. A conversation of nonsense was ringing in his ears; stinging like a bee and dimming like a burn. His orbs shifted elsewhere, further from the younger. Heâs not thinking, will never be thinking in a situation like this.
He was suspicious of the fellowâs actions and words. The unpleasant feeling in his words and beyond discomfort in his seat as well. He kept wiggling-- no, that was in anxiety growing and twisting inside his guts. He slowly cracked his fingers with his thumb, his vision looking to the side to face the boy again. But something was wrong, massive. An aching strike to his thigh, crimson liquid forming from the wound. A loud yelp gasped out of his chapped lips and his hands hovering over the blood; wanting to pull out the weapon from his limp. â-What the fuck, Kyungsoo!â
His large fingers wrapped around the blade and quickly pulled it out to avoid severe pain. He knew the action would be worse than keeping it in; he couldnât just leave it there however. Therefore, it resulted to having to pull it out. Heâs strong enough to defend himself against the ache. The blood continued to pour, constant paper towel damping on the wound. âJust get out, Kyung. I can handle this.â He mumbled in complete irritation.
He could lose conscious from the loss of blood. He canât.
Being assigned with someone who is entirely 6 years younger than him was something new. He didnât complain, just surprised. He actually never knew the gang would still be accepting newcomers who were below the age of 20. Maybe heâs just late? Or maybe heâs just dumb because he got recruited when he was merely 17. Heâs mostly likely misplacing the value information that is still keeping him in this gang.
Awaiting from a lonely corner, bunches of humans dancing in front of him. He wore dark clothing, just hiding in the darkness as multiple of showlights dashed around the area. A shivering sigh left his lips as he pulled up his coat; covering his neck with the outer wear. His eyes slowly loomed around in observation, trying to spot the individual thatâs supposedly that is being hunted for in his mission. A yawn slipped out this time, automatically making him raise his hand to hide the yawn. If someone decided to take notice of him, theyâll probably think that heâs some weirdo whoâs literally wearing a black dresscoat with dark shades inside a club. Whatever, other peopleâs opinions are petty to Hector.
His eyes averted away from the grinding crowd and onto the search of his partnerâs eyes. There is a possibility that the boy is at the bar, but the real question is how he got into the club when heâs only 18. Okay, letâs not question that right now. He scanned the crowd once more, taking piece by piece of the different individuals and seeing if they fit the description. âThis is like those I-Spy puzzle books,â he mumbled to himself quietly; already getting irritated by the difficulty of spotting his target. A solid blinked occurred, regaining his focus towards the bar and there sat was the according partner of his. He looked bored; we all know lies come to this.
He cracked his bony knuckles one by one as time ticked by slowly. The dancing lights and crowd still moving along to the booming music. âShit, give the cue already.â
He shoved the last spoon into his mouth, dropping the spoon after and continuously chewing on the vibrant food. His eyes lowered at the porcelain bowl, licking his lips to brush off the fake cheese and tapping his utensil on the bowl. A smile formed slowly but soon faded as his friend got up his seat an took the empty bowl away from him. He lazily watched, slumping on his chair while tapping his bony finger on the furniture. Kyungsoo was acting strange--- no, itâs probably just him since heâs already acting different towards him.
He darted his dark eyes around the room. The stillness of the night and distant noises made him feel uneasy. Itâs like something can just happen any minute now; just something. He wasnât sure of what but he should remain cautious. Thatâs right, he was on a mission too- shit. He canât avoid it either, or his commander wonât be giving him another one in a while. He disliked failure and this was a simple mission that doesnât need it. He tightened his fists just by thinking of the thought, heâs taking this too seriously- stop it, Chanyeol.
He was about to stand up from his chair until he was halted once more by the otherâs sudden question. âWhat has been your favorite way of killing someone lately?â It repeated in his head, multiple of times, bouncing back and forth from wall to wall. He had a sudden chill up his spine, immediately fixing his sitting posture to prevent any other. âKilling som-â Kyungsoo continued his words of different forms to murder someone. A family? Children? Blood? He never took sympathy for his victims but this was sure giving him a strange feeling. What is Kyungsoo planning to do?
He laid his hands on his thighs, stretching his fingers into different figures and nervous eye fidgets. This was weird, really weird. Whatâs with the sudden question too? He knew that he kill people as a job but-- he couldnât resist this. He couldnât withstand this, more particular. He licked his lips and raised his hands on the table; intertwining his fingers together.
He remained collected, not wanting to make any suspicious move furthermore. He let the other continue rambling on about sorts. Not until he heard his sudden stepping, he didnât dare turn around however; biting his bottom lip in slight anxiety. A cold sweat broke out, just slipping down the side and onto his cheekbone. He quickly wiped it and exhaled, sucking the scent of cigarettes in and letting it out. His mouth was stinging in the aroma of cigarettes, he hated it but it didnât bother him much.
âListen, Kyungsoo- youâre acting weird.â He was completely unaware of his friendâs action, still refusing to turn his head to see whatâs incoming. His intertwined fingers turned into fists, eventually thawing out and lying flat on the table.
Chanyeol wasnât exactly the type to visit clubs and bars to release stress. The only activity he does to exclude it is by smoking a cigarette outside or watching television; it was that simple. People often mistaken him for some party animal who goes everyday and get drunk or high. He had always thought that he was a quiet guy--- guess he was wrong apparently. He didnât appreciate those opinions as much but he figured to why it would lead people to think of that.
Tick tock goes around the clock and it struck late, just enough for a nearby club to open up. He wanted to try something new and that resulted to him driving up to a club. He could hear the distant music and constant cheering; boy, heâs going to get a headache tonight. He parked, went inside and of course, shuffled among shorter individuals and few that was at his height. He eventually only stayed at the bar to order a drink or so, leaving right after as to not wanting to break the alcohol limits.
Right outside, he swiftly took out a cigarette and lighted it up with his lighter that he always carry around for âemergenciesâ. He brang the object towards his chapped lips and sucked it in, puffing it out through his nostrils. Technique, he guessed. He slowly walked towards his car until he was suddenly bumped by some drunk stranger who replied in such a drowsy matter; it was quite surprising to find her still standing. Puffing out more smoke, he nodded his head in an apologetic manner and glimpsing a small smile. âItâs fine.â
the two individuals had encountered one another many times--- so many that itâs frankly impossible to count all. they were never interested in knowing each other; simply finishing their jobs and going home to rest. it was strange however, everyone had at least talked or approached the man. he was a laid-back person; one conversation would get you completely concealed about his personality. everyone enjoyed his appearance (at least thatâs what he thinks) and never made a single complaint. his eyes roamed and had set on this one person. the one individual that he had never talked to or had a connection with.
bae suzy, was it? or rather cindy is the best term to call her. a hint of a chuckle.
it was the day that the party had finished their missions and decided to celebrate the occasion. it was a grand day to others, while it was a normal day and went on with their daily lives. this was a perfect chance for him to invite that one person out; maybe for a drink. it wasnât too much, right? just walk up and ask if she wants to go to a bar or whatever thatâs similar to that. nobody had declined his offers before, this might be the first though.
easy approach. donât be too nice, donât be too rude. it got to be right.
a couple of footsteps echoed throughout the headquarters as he tiptoed his way through. his fingers intertwining as they continued to fidget around in small anxiety. a single break of small cold sweat crawled his way down his face which was quickly wiped away. why was he so nervous? heâs sure weird today. he cleared his throat and glanced around again, hoping that nobody sees what heâs going to do.
a tap to the shoulder should be a enough, yes. just enough for her to set her attention towards him. sticking out his bony index finger and heading its direction towards the female, he tapped her shoulder gently; not wanting to disturb anything that sheâs doing.
âhey, uh. would you like to go out? i mean- have a drink, yes?â
thee leader of cottonmouth, gone? captured? in custody? arrested? the news was so shocking that the hitman shook in anxiety. he no longer belonged to a home anymore; merely a car engineer with a sad past of victims and blood.
he canât be captured; if he does, heâll surely be sent on a death sentence once the investigators find out that he was the reason to his parentsâ murder. surely enough, his sister would step up and announce everything; just enough to get him dead.
he surely had nowhere to go now; his mind overflowing with words of depression and suicidal thoughts. he should just kill himself now; itâs better than being sent to prison, perhaps dying with regrets.
jung jooyoung however--- definitely the definition of a dumb bastard who thinks he can always get away with everything. it left him without any words, what an idiot.
with nowhere to go, left with shock and disappointment. he had no purpose in life anymore; maybe he could just change his identity--- no, thatâs impossible now. he could live off in some basement; locking himself forever and never going out.
the sirens only got louder. the good is coming; awaiting to capture those who dare touch the innocents of the city. one by one, every person who is labeled as a cottonmouth would be gone. disappeared in the mist and unable to escape the sad reality that is striking them repeatedly.
he took one last sip of the cold liquid; staring at the flashing television before him once more. itâs going to be the last time that heâs at peace.
A gulp could be heard as he warily watched the girl slowly pull onto the trigger; visioning her anger thatâs almost to the nearest point. He was going to die and he knew it; heâs going to die. The words repeated inside of him while he gripped onto the kitchen knife more tightly, closing his eyes slowly as a sweat dripped down his cheekbone. He never knew that he would end up dying like this, in front of some woman who has possibly has no experience in shooting. He felt weak and pathetic; he could easily stop her right now but he was halted, like something was holding him back from doing so.
He wondered though, how long has this girl been tracking him down to this very location? It must have took a lot, however Chanyeol isnât skilled in technology so he doesnât know how hacking and intelligent gathering works at all (mainly to why he hate their guts). He always called them know-it-all brats and that would never take a toll of them; probably because they must have been called those nicknames under either of those categories back in high school or somethings. Heh, nerds.
The bullet was pulled and it shot out, letting out a loud boom and hinting that the gun could have a silencer on as it seems to sound âmuffledâ rather than pure loudness. If the gun was any louder, the neighbors would be contacting the cops by now. His heart skipped a beat, his breath shortening once the bullet was pushed, his eyes quickly shut tight. It was only a short moment before he realized that heâs still alive. It left him bewildered; he thought that the girl pulled the trigger but once he scanned the building, she seemed to have missed due to shaking.
He took a single step back, unaware of what the girl is feeling right now but he knew that she is upset about something. He looked back at it over and over again; if he had took any step or so, he would have been injured badly. A sigh left his lips once again, him reaching towards his head to ruffle his black locks. He was completely confused; why did the girl miss when he was clearly in aim with her gun? Did she shake that bad? Urgh, he should stop thinking about it since heâs still alive.
The apology was almost a whisper; barely audible which made his ears twitch a little. âItâs oka-â Why was he saying itâs okay? She could have killed him, it was a merely miss; near to death. He was half angered and half relieved. He understood her, frankly; he would have done the same if it was to avenging his parents, though his were dead. Letâs not talk about that.
âI would kill you by now but Iâll let you go...I guess.â He mumbled the words; they were stinging, so painfully stinging. Heâs letting her get away and his body wonât function to his commands. This is awful enough. âUm, sit down, yeah? Uh- Iâll get you something to drink-â Why was he acting so casual? There were so many frequent questions that remained unanswered due to his stubbornness. He wished for an ending already; for the girl to leave him in peace but he couldnât help it, he felt bad for the girl. âIâm sorry for what Iâve said about your parents; my cruel choices in words.â He gave her a short smile before proceeding towards the kitchen; sniffing in the small puff of smoke from the fresh bullet and cringed a little.
          âYou want tea? Maybe water? You can get a snack- How about coffee?â
stealing. it was interesting, indeed. truly amusing as chanyeol thought about it day by day. it was like a hobby that developed over the years; his passion to just become a thief and accomplish goals that didnât even belong to him. it took practice to finish successfully, you have to plan and make sure that itâs good enough to be used. he canât just simply walk up to a store and start shooting at everything, eventually gathering the money and walking out (okay, maybe that it is but thatâs not the point).
during his journeys of missions and tasks and his display of intentions that he had done in the past, he had clashed with another person. another thief that was so similar to him, they just clicked immediately after meeting and encountering for so many times. they were in the same gang, having the almost the same goals but just different opinions in some things. though at times, things may never work well and they donât always collaborate together properly. thinking about it worries him a bit, bickering was enough but a quarrel is something.
the hitman sat near his companion; tapping his digits along his cheekbone as he glanced around the headquarters, noticing a few of the other members walking around and examining sorts. he was bored, extremely bored and he wasnât sure what to do furthermore. the jazz occupied his mind for only a moment before shifting his head towards his partner, the thief whoâs by his side whenever it comes to stealing.
the tune finally vanishes as the system slowly switches to another song, a roll of eyes enters once he heard him spoke and raised his hands to ruffle his own hair. he stretched his fingers; cracking them one by one until he sighed. âare you asking to die? i rather not ask for the whole police department to wail in.â a small tug at the corner of his lips lightened his darken expression. âletâs start off small? something simple and clean? no messes? weâll progress from there. iâm edging for a cash right now--- unless you insist that we go blow up a whole hospital for fun.â adding an exaggerated tone at the end to increase the sarcasm.
Chanyeol continued sitting there in slight confusion; still looking around the place with the same unease. He focused his eyes towards the source of the voice, lights flickering to reveal a boy dressed in oversized clothing and red hair draping over the black orbs of his. He stared only blankly, almost astonished by the way on how he dressing, including the blood stain that looks like he tried to wash it off but it didnât work. The little plush heâs holding in between his arm and the folded blanket that he is guessing, for him. He couldnât help but smile at the sight. He was cute, wait-- why is he saying this?
He pushed himself up with his elbow but was only back down on the furniture by the shorter. He neatly wrapped the cloth around Chanyeolâs lower body; the hitman watching closely at every movement he had done so far to make sure that itâs perfectly intact. â--Um, itâs no worries, I-â He paused, lips completely concealed by its own and a sigh leaving them. He shifted up, making sure not to ruin the work and removed his overly big black dresscoat; throwing it aside which landed on the floor with a âthudâ. Next, his scar-filled hands were revealed as he pulled off the black leather gloves; bending his fingers in multiple ways to stretch his digits out. He threw the gloves towards the coat, including his sunglasses as well and ending it with a ruffle of a hair.
He wasnât sure to why he was wearing a turtleneck, he was a mess of sweat. He could feel the sticky texture in between his chest and the clothing, only to bring two fingers to pull on it to avoid further sticking. He shifted around uncomfortably, not wanting the sweat to become adherent again. The plan worked for a few minutes but it went back to normal; there goes his chances of being comfortable on the couch. He looked up to greet the eyes of the kind boy and giving him a weak smile of gratitude. The boy asked a question but Chanyeol wasnât able to answer it on time; resulting to him walking towards the kitchen and exposing those boxers that made his heart sank a little due to how cut- okay, letâs not.
He could hear the continuous clanking and clanging of pots and cabinets. He lied still on the couch; hands on his abdomen, intertwining together while he gazed at the ceiling above him. Everything was so strange, so strange. There was just this strange aura in this home, he could feel something boiling inside of him but he canât figure out what. He turned around to face his back towards the couch, then staring at the wall that was across from him. He shifted his eyes around again, observing the different objects that could be possible evidence. He knew that he had did a search already and finding none; maybe he was missing it? Possibly.
He wanted to get up from the furniture but he was beyond lazy, he was just awoken from a severe nap. His neck is in pain for other reasons and his back is breaking in aches and quakes. Gosh, heâs turning old. 24 and already having back pains; should probably check up with one of those smartasses at Cottonmouth. He heaved in a sigh, hearing the call of his name which automatically made him sit up and neatly place the blanket aside and away from his long legs. He stood up from the seat and shuffled his feet towards the kitchen; awaiting was the bowls of delicious mac and cheese along with the chef, Kyungsoo.
âThanks..Kyung.â He mumbled the words, barely audible and pushing out the chair; sitting on it right after. He slumped slightly, not wanting to fix his posture so he remained that way. He picked up the silver utensil and twirled it around the table, not having quite the appetite yet. The food smelled so nice, the aroma and delicate blowing of air onto the bowl by the person across from him, alongside was the distant roaming of cars and city sounds. It was quiet, too quiet and awkward. He eventually held up the spoon and dipped it into the macaroni, picking up the cheesy pieces and bringing them to his mouth. âGood as always, Iâm proud.â He couldnât help but comment, it was like the same as they would eat always back then--- almost the same. He felt the emptiness as he continued to eat but his thought was eventually interrupted by the otherâs assumptions again.
âHelp? I- Itâs nothing, um.â His orbs quickly shifting around in nervousness as the other suddenly got up from his seat to close in the distant between them. âReally, itâs nothing.â He applied again; leaning forward to plant solid lips on his friendâs forehead; following by a warm smile and settling on his seat once more. âThanks.â He raised a thumb up and continued to read slowly, avoiding the heat of the food.
âCâmon, Kyung- You canât just kick me out, I mean--â Chanyeolâs lips quivered in anxiety; unable to focus in his statement anymore. âIâm...sor-â His eyes only widened at his sudden laugh; making his fingers twitch in slight fear. He shifted his body in discomfort, still glancing up at the person above him. His eyebrows fused together; obviously revealing the anger that slowly built up inside of him. Kyungsoo just wouldnât stop assuming things; making it impossible to talk him out of it.
He wished to not see the boy in such a way, torn and miserable over the fact that Mr. Park had changed over the years of running away and killing victims. His hands were stained in red many times and he could never get over it; itâs his job. He wanted to return back to Kyungsoo, but he forgot about his childhood friend since day 1 of running away and never dared to try to gain his lost memories back. Now, heâs just sitting in front of the boy that he had loved dearly since young, crying and weeping. He felt guilty, extremely guilty, is there any other word to explain it? He shouldnât have took the stupid task, shit.
His friend finally backed away from him and his hands immediately went to scratch his head in frustration. He let out a loud sigh in discomfort and disappointment; only to end up being thrown a wad of cash in his hands. He glared at the money in his palms; just wanting to stand up and tell Kyungsoo to snap out of it. Being an idiot he is, he didnât. He didnât even move an inch; keeping the money in his hands and not wanting to say anything. It was like his lips were sealed shut.
His digits tightened around the cash and let out one more sigh before throwing it aside. He stood up after hearing the loud door slam and puckered out his bottom lip as a result of a frown. The amount of money the dealer had intrigued him; he received all of this from just selling weapons? Chanyeol probably get less with all the killings he had done and plus his job. He isnât an organized worker; no one really appreciates his work but he gets the job done, thatâs the only thing they cared about him.
He didnât waste his time, of course. Kyungsoo pretty much revealed what his job was but Chanyeol needed crucial evidence to show the gang at what he had discover. Maybe the wad of money thatâs lying on the floor would complete the investigation. Thatâll be too easy--- thatâs not how Park Chanyeol plays. A glimpse of a smile appeared on him; sniffing in the incoming tears as he continued to stare at the cash. Why was he suddenly crying? God, heâs stupid. He cracked his knuckles quickly and individually before heading around the house to see what he could find.
He ended up finding nothing and him, being an idiot as always, decided to give up and call it a day by napping. Nothing interesting popped up in the home; only the couple of unique knives he found lying around in the kitchen and a few pictures that were framed around; nothing more, nothing less. Itâs obvious that the D.O. boy kept everything in his bedroom; like the smartass that Chanyeol knew from long ago as a kid. âYou asshole,â was his response towards the thought of him hiding the truth in his very room.
He locked the door and the hitman could hear muffled snoring in the room, so pretty much Kyungsoo is sleeping. After that, Chanyeol lied down on the couch and ended up drooling on the cushion but later wiped it away with his coatâs sleeve, then continued sleeping again. A man got to have his beauty sleep; okay, that was dumb.
The hitman continued to sleep in peace until he was awoken by a soft call of his name. His first reflex was immediately waking up after he was called and staying put on the furniture. Kyungsoo is awake and he knew. He noticed that it was dark; legit pitch dark and he licked his lips slightly in slight anxiety. He slowly shifted his body around to face away from the couch; hearing the boyâs apology towards him. âWhatever, itâs nothing. Iâm sorry for being a dumbass.â He only replied bluntly; looking around in the darkness in unease. âUhm, come...sit next to me.â
i will be finishing the dr abbles once i get home from the library! sorry for the delay, omg. if anyone would like to plot, feel free to contact me on aim to plot or just chat!! ([email protected]) thanks!1
