as impossible as it was, jongin couldnât help but notice subtle similarities in their personality, speech, and mannerism that only made sense if the two shared halves of a whole. a part of him recognized the tenderness in her tone of voice embedded in years of perfecting a stony facade, a part of him thought it was silly he was basing these observations on a fleeting feeling, a gut instinct.
jongin felt for a second, though, that sunyoungâs voice was far too familiar and the way she gazed at him provoking a sense of belonging and security he had never felt before. it was odd to feel so connected to a stranger within an hour of exchanging some semblance of a civil introduction, especially to one that had approached him with a bounty on his head. sister? perhaps that much was a stretch because he had never known what it felt like to have a picture-perfect family with a sibling to share half the burden and happiness with. but, jongin knew in his gut (and that had never failed him before) that losing sunyoung would be like abandoning any hope for a normal life where he wouldnât be an outcast but âlittle broâ to someone he could learn to hold dear.
sister? it did have a nice ring to it.
he ruffled the back of his head and wore a tired, toothy grin when she spoke as if she was doing him a favor, keeping him alive and all. he might have ran from a couple conflicts in the past but hiding had never been very jongin-esque; if sunyoung wanted his head next time, he was going to be in plain sight. âthatâs heartwarming, warning me youâll pop a cap in my head and leaving your number to catch up,â he chuckled and tilted his head slightly. âcanât make up your mind, can you?â at this point, jongin even doubted sunyoung would have it in her to assassinate him for twenty grand, let alone ten, if she was positive they were blood-related. would she murder her own âlittle broâ for something so expendable like money?
âso, you expect me to believe you, and i donât, youâll put a fucking bullet through my brain?â the stoic expression on his face twisted into something angry and hurt. âiâve lived my entire life thinking i was alone, and then you show up, shoving this crap down my throat and telling me i could have had this all along.â but things never were picture perfect; his alleged sister was now threatening his life because he refused to believe she was supposed to fucking be there this whole time. âwhere the hell were you?â he asked, words hushed and sharpened with a deeply rooted pain. âwhere the hell were you when i needed you?â
jongin leaned slightly over the windowsill, digits tightened over the dusty ledge. he was perfectly vulnerable like this, the whole expanse of his bare back a giant target for sunyoung to plunge her blade into, or the back of his skull in meticulous position for a bullet. it showed just how little he cared for his own safety. âwhy donât you just do it now? whether you kill me now or later, it doesnât matter, youâll still get your fucking ten grand, sis.â
