"Passed?" He repeated dubiously, hearing the lapse in the younger’s words, his right eyebrow arched at the absurdity of it all. But then, it wasn’t impossible — some people grow out of their fear of the dark when they get older, and sometimes, they didn’t. They live with the fear until they inhaled their last breath; it was instilled, to stay forever. Not unless the certain person did something to numb the fear enough for it to disappear. But then, watering down something that terrifies you isn’t an easy task, except if you were… Myungsoo had cut off his own train of thought, and internally, the puzzle had clicked into place and he wanted to tell Jongin that he was stupid for even trying to do this without proper help —
— Myungsoo, at any case, was not proper help.
"Do you think everything is a joke?” Myungsoo retorted, the plan of the other slowly coming to him, comprehension finally sinking in, the younger’s words sending a mild flare of irritation into his system. The Kim Jongin he knew had already emerged from the surface of the dithering mess that had asked him for help mere minutes ago, and it made his eyes narrow into a glare. While Jongin’s words were true, racing was more than just about the danger. It was about the sense of achievement, the pride that he got when he wins a race; it was for the prestige, the call of his name throughout the sidelines when the flag finally waves the end of the game; and it was for his makeshift family, Anathema’s benefit, but all of these, he kept bottled in, as while Jongin knew about his underground activities, he was not aware of Myungsoo’s other purposes.
Liability? Did he really think that it was about that?
Myungsoo was appalled at the notion that Jongin had really thought this plan out, up to the extent where he had already written his will at nineteen years old and called it a suicide. Stupid little fucker, he wanted to blurt, but he bit his tongue, the annoyance building up into light anger at Jongin taking his life so lightly. ”I’m thinking that I’ve underestimated your level of idiocy,” he deadpanned, not fazed by the usage of the honorarium with his blood coming into a boil under his skin, his expression humorless as the other smiled at him lazily.
His concern wasn’t about his ability to keep them both alive, as he would make sure that he would, with every part of his being, but rather, it was about the younger male’s desire to face something that he couldn’t for the past few years. He had no idea of what could happen to Jongin later on, when he pushes the gas pedal to its limit a few moments from now.
He didn’t know how to handle that.
Myungsoo studied the other’s face, wanting to tell him that he will definitely regret getting in this race with him, but then, who was he to control what Jongin wanted to do? Jongin had obviously worked too much in order to face this, and he was the only obstacle keeping him from doing it. The younger seemed determined to get the ordeal over it, but for what purpose was the whole thing for, he still did not understand — and he hates, hates not knowing. He averted his gaze from the younger, wordlessly opening the door and getting in his car, finally conceding to the request, slamming it shut as he swallowed down his anger at the other’s impulsivity.
You won’t let him die, he chanted in his head, the irrational thoughts invading him and he can’t, can’t bear to lose someone so close to him — and he blamed Jongin again for letting him think as such, as he will not crash his car with Jongin in it. Stupid, stupid. Myungsoo had even gone through the countdown from one to ten to calm his nerves. No one will get hurt. He’ll be fine. Trust him.
He hoped that Jongin was right — that it had passed.
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