red lights - w/ minsu .
@yunirans
there were eyes following him.
seductive, cat-like gazes latched onto his tense form as he walked through the dimly lit street. the way he leaned away from everything as if they would burn him didn’t go unnoticed by these eyes, eyes that were shaped and carved from the dirty little things that happened on yeogwa street, night after day. he was different from the men that came for the fun and thrills, and they could tell. they could tell. something about that was more unsettling, like these people could read him through the way he walked and held himself. like they could tell he was already halfway to being torn in two, and they were eager to rip him even further apart.
“don’t fucking touch me,” he growled to anyone who looked like they would give in to the desire of reaching out to him, poorly concealed disgust peeking through from behind his eyes. faces followed him like flowers grasping for the sun, but no one dared to touch, because only a fool would fail to notice how he walked as if he was treading on hot coals. instead, they waited, following him like dogs after their prey. perhaps they were waiting for him to lose to the temptation of a pretty face, of fingers that could promise good things. and what an amusing thought that was.
the nasty fuckers. he wasn’t like them. he wasn’t like them at all. not at all.
micah snapped himself out of his emotions, pulling himself back to to present. fuck. this goddamn place was getting into his head. yeogwa alley was truly the bane of his existence. releasing the tension he hadn’t realized was building up in his fists, he pulled his hands out of his pockets to examine the violent red marks he had unintentionally inflicted onto his palms, a result from digging his nails too hard into his skin. movement out of the corner of his eye caused him to pause in his steps, and he turedn ninety degrees to face the subject of his attention.
upon catching sight of a boy swimming underneath dark neon lights, micah froze. young. he was so young. maybe it was a matter of what he looked on the inside, but the damage was done. micah was gone. they could have been the same age, and that thought, it… it… fuck. he was lost in his shock, nausea building up wiithin. he was young, he was everything micah was, and yet.. he wasn't. he could never understand these kinds people. why did they do these things? why? what made them? what made they stay? why? why? just, why would you -
"how can you do it?" he blurted out, before he could catch himself. there was a pause before micah blanched, suprised by his own outburst. micah glanced around, but it seemed like the eyes that had been following him had turned away to return to their own devices, having lost their interest the moment he stopped in his tracks. he returned his gaze to the purple-haired male and stepped back immediately, a sickening taste sitting in the back of his throat. "fuck," he muttered under his breath, his hands starting to shake. "digusting." the single word was a ghost of a whisper, almost swallowed up by the noise of the bustling nightlife. originally the term had been uttered towards himself and the feelings that were swimming within him, but given his situation, it wasn't surprising if the other had taken those words as an insult to himself.














