Duality | & rin
Perhaps it was the sound of the summer rain that drew him out of the house. The trickling sound of droplets falling into the garden outside his window or perhaps it was the flash of lightning chased by the a loud crackle of thunder. It had been a long time since Leo had stopped to really enjoy a summer storm. Rousing from his bed, he had pushed back the window to take in the fresh scent of wetness and summer as he could characterize them.
It wasn’t long before he was pulling on his shoes and grabbing a coat with a hood; although he wouldn’t really wear it as he wanted down familiar streets. It was probably a mistake though to take a walk on this night. It had been to long since he had fed and was already moving more sluggishly than normal. Each human he passed left him with a watering mouth and struggling to keep his head down and his teeth to himself. He figured he would turn another block before choosing a victim for his nightly meal and then return to home to sleep all of this off. But Leo should have known better because his plans rarely come to fruition.
for the nth time that month, rin found himself stuck in seoul with not enough energy to go back to the province until tomorrow. (thank god once again for the existence of 24-hour cafes -- and friends that lived nearby.) a pamphlet for apartments was tucked in between the pages of his notes, and they were, in turn, held in his arms, his bag too full (and perhaps too heavy, for a normal human male) of books and his laptop and so many other things that he struggled to pull his phone out of his pocket to make a note to clean out its contents.
he would’ve finished taking that note down, too, if it hadn’t been for the scent that wafted towards him -- an undertone of something that smelled faintly dead in a season that still suffered the sense of life brought about by spring.
but he looked up too late, and ended up running into the source.
another note that he should take down: watch where you’re going.
“oh, i am so sorry,” he apologised quickly, and automatically, holding onto his notebooks even tighter while at the same time attempting to pull the strap of his bag further up his shoulder (a task that was almost impossible, if it hadn’t been for his strength). “a-are you okay?”














