villains often come with pretty faces

kim jonghyun. '89 liner. they rip off our wings and call themselves angels. [ triggers- intended for mature audiences. ]

[misbefive]

i have to touch myself to pretend you’re there

[exsabxsunhwa]

high hopes in velvet ropes, -- ✧

[sabxjonghyun-blog]

sabxsunhwa:

[ ◆ ]

(' he scoffs at her, a smile lighting his lips. she was bold and it was interesting-- and irritating but he shouldn't expect anything less of this sunhwa of his. )

i never spoke of it as a crime (' he licks his lips ) it's simply rude, don't you agree? and normally when a person is rude, that person must apologize, no?

(' he likes taunting her, likes seeing her riled up-- like a bird who's feathers refuse to settle. it makes him elated and relaxed, a nice break from the charming facade he plays in front of others. )

and i think you owe me an apology. but don't worry, miss han. i can settle for you treating me to dinner tonight. 

[sabxjonghyun-blog]

†- Our muses in a church.

†- our muses in a church.

he's used to the itch of a suit by now, the stiff fabric an acquired tasted against his skin-- but now, he finds himself squirming for release from the confining clothes. he wasn't sure why, why the fabric acted like a gag and suffocated him blue, making his skin itch raw and his pores drench sweat. he found himself fumbling, an act not even jonghyun was aware he could do.

he wanted out, wanted air-- wanted something to bring relief to his burning skin and buzzing mind. his hands trembled behind his back, even in their clenched hold with one another. he wanted assurance that this was right, that it was no mistake to have agreed to this-- but that would not come. beside him stood no one-- a mother long since dead and a father's who's blood taints his skin. he had no friends, and his coworkers only knew him by name.

weddings were suppose to be shared events, and he found himself alone. and for the first time it bothered him.

he wondered if he mother would have liked her-- sunhwa. he was sure she would have, though he knew they way he treated her would of left his mother rolling in her grave.

his father would of hated her-- hated the pure way she smiled and gleamed, and he was sure had he been her, assurance would not have been received.

(--"you're throwing away the future of your company, soiling your name. wedding someone beneath you? honestly jonghyun i thought you were smarter." )

maybe it was a good thing he was dead now.

the thought crossed, a flicker in the back of jonghyun's mind.

but then the music rose across the rows of the empty church, it swelled and it beamed and the doors pulled open to reveal the woman of his thoughts.

she was in white, a simple gown with a minimal train. ordinary, much like she. but her smile out shined the gown and the jewels and the make up. it out shined the sun as it poked through the stained glass paintings on the walls. it out shined many things-- even the lingering clouds that hung in the void of jonghyun's heart.

he didn't smile, didn't share her grin or her charisma. there were no cameras here to witness his stoic indifference, his lips taunt and his eyes lidded and unmoving. but they remained on her, drawn to her as a natural instinct.

she approached him, and between them stood a minister. he held his book of omens open in his palms and his lips were wet, ready to announce them man and wife. she stood across from jonghyun and her enjoyment did not waver-- every bit of glittering emotion she had for him worn in her eyes.

"good morning~"

he gave a guff grunt, nodding at her before sliding her hands into his own. his palms were could, but the warmth of her fingers warmed him to the bone.

for a moment, he was empty. the weight of his losses weighed on his shoulders, it stacked and he sagged beneath it. he wondered if this was alright-- to marry a woman he could almost love but the emotions were never quite there, never quite right. and he wondered if it was okay to do so, under the eyes of one-- a man who read vows. no audience played part, no friends and no family to join or congratulate him. simply because he had no one to do so.

it wasn't until his eyes flickered past her, past the beam that was sunhwa's blinding smile and settling on the empty space behind her, did he realize that she was the same. her friends nonexistent, much like his-- and her mother's hand worn upon her skin's scars.

she had no one as well.

his grip on her hands tighten and she flashed him a concerned gaze, but said no words.

"i love you, sunhwa."

maybe it was alright to marry someone who you did not quite love, or maybe it was simply jonghyun's on variation of love, that fit for a demented and sick monster. but he didn't mind, didn't mind the mornings they'd wake together and the evenings of her falling asleep beside him. he didn't mind the smell of her burning food, or the stains in the white of his carpet she'd leave. even the dog, who's piss trails always betrayed him and left jonghyun's fuming because she was stupid enough to bring the damn thing inside the house.

and a child, he wouldn't mind that-- to see it gazing up at him with her eyes, because he'd hope it'd come out more like her than him in the end.

because he had her, and while they were alone, they were alone together. and they thrived together.

and because in his own way he loved her and she positively loved him in return. and that was more than enough for jonghyun's little world.

[sabxjonghyun-blog]

☤ ehehhehe

☤ - one of our muses is hurt.

her blood is a stain, not just a marking on his carpet or a splatter across the frames of his windows— but a scar on his hands and in the cavity of his chest. each droplet that pours, no rains from her veins is another thrash against his chest. it suffocates him and drowns him, grasping hold of his windpipe and pushing it closed.

"stop struggling, sunhwa."

his words are vemon and they leak into her ears, pour into her blood and they taint her—- they taint her like she taints him and together they are dirty and broken fools.

she whimpers and the sound is an echo, and it enthralls jonghyun further, his fingers skimming over the fresh cut he’s made in her arm. she’s still though, despite the pain, and he can’t help but smirk. a loyal dog, until the end. he taps the wound, the open flesh swollen and parted and spouting liquid life. he laughs, lets his tongue lick up the surface of her cut, before reeling back to look at her.

her face is painted with sweat and fear, but her eyes remain trained on him. he likes that, likes the way she pleads and begs without having to use a single word. it brings him to chills and it reduces him further to indulge in his blood lust and insanity.

"oh sunhwa, sunhwa. don’t look at me like that." he grins, fingers dancing back over her wound, which is now wet from his mouth.

"don’t you know i love you so?"

his fingers dip into the wound and they rip the skin, it tears and opens and more blood begins to fall. he giggles, a childish sound that rings like bells, before moving his mouth to her skin once more— tongue dancing and lapping up blood.

this time, it’s he who plays the role of dog.

[exsabxsunhwa]

high hopes in velvet ropes, -- ✧

[sabxjonghyun-blog]

sabxsunhwa:

[ ◆ ]

(' this is the third time she's mentioned the interview now and jonghyun grows tired of the click of his keyboard. he is suppose to be doing work, not playing back and forth with this mindless pup. he sighs, running a hand through the silver locks of his hair-- its messy and he feels the need to straighten it. perhaps he will, but later, after he handles this miss sunhwa. 

he grabs his phone from his desk, flickering back to the woman's first email, and dialing the number below. it rings, a loud obnoxious sound in the shell of his ear, before the other line clicks on. )

you are very persistent, miss han. 

(' he doesn't give her the chance to speak, launching himself at her before her breath could reach the receiver. )

don't mistake that for a compliment, persistence is not an admirable quality. it's quite irritating really. (' he sighs once more, but his lips are twitching again. ) and here i thought you were trained so well. you've let me down, yet again.

(' jonghyun clucks, his laugh a breathy, husky sound. he imagines her cowering and it gives him a rush, his heart racing with desire. he wonders what its like-- her whimper and her cries. )

how do you plan to compensate for letting me down, because surely such a crime cannot go unpunished, no?

[sabxjonghyun-blog]

★

★- our muses watching the stars

neither of them spoke to the other-- both remaining quiet and irritated in their own little worlds. the smores on their plates grew cold and stale in the cool winter air, but neither made an effort to eat them, much less touch them. they simply held fast to the paper plates between their fingers and watched with narrowed gazes as the sky beamed down beneath them.

between them sat a girl, another dog like inguk-- they both smelled like the husk of the forest and rotting trees. jonghyun crinkles his nose at them both. the girl he didn't mind, she was easy to bend and use and simple minded and naive. she didn't ask too many questions and never bothered him too frequently. she was easy to get along with.

it was the other, the male, who jonghyun held a great distaste for. he was arrogant and proud and he made sure to shoot protective glances over the female-- he marked her and threatened jonghyun. and jonghyun didn not take it kindly.

"its so pretty out~" she cooed.

"yeah." in guk grunts, his sour mood written on the features of his face.

"it's too hot out."

jonghyun hates heat, hates the sweat as it sticks to one's skin.

in guk doesn't have to retort, his grunt is enough. it flares the temper in jonghyun and he shoots to his feet with a huff-- fingers brushing urgently at the cloth of his suit, trying to free the dirt from it's hold.

"come, were leaving." he grabs the woman, wrenching her to her feet. she yelps, naturally, his grip too tight on the thin frame of her arm.

in guk joins, and his fingers reach for her as well. "leave her be, she wants to watch the stars."

jonghyun glowers. "and i want to go home. she's watched them long enough and i've had enough of this child's play."

he pulls her towards him.

in guk pulls back. "you're the one being a child here--"

"i said let go." she squeaks as jonghyun tugs her forth.

the two glare and begin the endless tug of rope struggle, bruising the child's arms and leaving her yelping from the small dents of pain. she rolls her eyes and hisses a few swear words, cursing the two children as they fight.

men.

[sabxjonghyun-blog]

▼- Our muses in a broken elevator.

jonghyun in which slows the elevator to a stop-- not the malfunction of a few electrical circuits or a broken button or two. his hands grip, no they tear, through the other's shoulders as he reels him back, just to slam his back into the wall once again. the mirrored walls shatter, their reflections distorted and torn and now scattered across the ground. the glass cuts the skin of the men, jonghyun and jongsuk alike, it bears no bias. but the pain is fleeting, drowned out by the heavy loads of adrenaline and rage that flow through jonghyun's body.

"shut the fuck up."

he clenches the cloth of jongsuk's shirt, and with his other hand he draws himself back. his fist clenches and he lets it fly, connecting with jongsuk's jaw. a sickening crack resounds through the tight elevator walls, and jongsuk grunts.

jonghyun's fist hurts, his knuckles battered and bleeding-- matching the skin of jongsuk's face. he sees the trails of blood as they fall down his arm, it stains his shirt crimson and only fuels him further. he blames the other, his teeth gritted and his jaw clenched tight. he blames him because blaming himself would amount to something-- and jonghyun amounts to nothing more than a plastered smile and a heavy wallet.

so he punches him again, watching jongsuk wrench in his hold. the other man takes it-- he doesn't raise a hand or a fist in jonghynu's direction, only fighting back when he raises his arm to defend himself from jonghynu's blows. but its useless and hinders nothing-- jonghyun's fist flying through the air and cutting into his jaw once again.

"learn to watch your mouth you mortal." he sees blood, and its all he sees-- or maybe its his anger, leaking red before his eyes and staining the world around him. staining the world as he has been stained. "trash should know its place."

the elevator shifts and they drop for a moment, the lights flicker on and gleam against the shatter glass pieces, which lie scattered on the floor. the door shifts open and it reveals the men to the world. naturally, jonghyun would have reeled back, shown shame and fought to cover his slip up before newspapers and the public eye. but he doesn't care, doesn't mind the large set of eyes glaring at his back as he snakes a hand around jongsuk's throat and squeezes it. he glares up at him, seething and bristled.

"out on the curb."

and he throws him, towards the crowd of wondering eyes and agape mouths. his body hit the floor and jonghyun knows it hurts.

and then he smiles, tucking his bloodied hand behind his back and stepping to the side of the elevator walls.

"anyone else going down as well?"

[exsabxsunhwa]

high hopes in velvet ropes, -- ✧

[sabxjonghyun-blog]

sabxsunhwa:

[ ◆ ]

(' he wonders if he's angered her yet, a small part of him longing to see that spark of hers once more. but a bigger part of him wants to see the fear fresh in her eyes. so he sides with the devil on his shoulder, lips taunt as his fingers rush to reply. )

to; kim jonghyun ( [email protected] ) from; han sunhwa ( [email protected] ) subject; re: re: terms of interview  august 4th, 2014 → 08:05:23

miss han,

it seems to me you've repented, im glad to see that. dogs are best when they are well trained, no?

i'll be sure to save the number, if i ever need to contact you in the future, thank you.

how are your bruises treating you? i hear icing them helps a great deal. or was that simply for aches-- im sure you can simply research a remedy if needed. <p>

kim jonghyun,

ceo of the k●r group. 

(' he presses send and leans back in his chair, eager for her response.)

han sunhwa, you are indeed fun to play with.

[sabxjoohyun-deactivated20160110]

after midnight : JH X HR

[sabxjonghyun-blog]

sabxhiro:

[ ◆ ]

he doesn't like the way she talks to him, a man who had just taken his time to kindly ask her if she was alright. he sneers at her, a figure who almost reaches his height-- any man would have been insecure on it, doubtful of himself and who he is. but jonghyun knows who he is. he knows that if she played her cards in the wrong manor, he could simply have her removed.

she pisses him off-- talking to him like he is a sudden bother. like he has fueled the tears welling behind her eyes, her voice accusing and sour. his fingers twitch, and he wants to pull her from the ground by her hair, ripping a few strands from the hold of her scalp as he does so. but he doesn't, instead he moves his hands behind his back and clasps them there, waiting patiently for her fit to finish with a look of stoic disinterest-- oh he is such a gentleman.

when she's done, her emotions shifting in waves, from heated anger to that of fearful remorse, he pulls himself straight, shoulders broad and pulled back so he now stands taller. his brows raise and a small twitch begins to pull in the corner of his lips.

he doesn't like being talked to like that, doesn't like when people act so flimsy. one minute they scream, the next the offer excuses and reasons for forgiveness-- only after trampling upon you moments before. he tries to console his temper, talk himself down calmly as his hands squeeze together and his teeth begin to grind.

he doesn't like when people are not aware of their place-- and this woman, this filth who stands beneath him in every way, is in need of a desperate lesson.

"what a weak apology." he sighs and brings his hands before him, clapping lightly. "i applaud you-- even the slimy politicians can put forth a better atonement."

jonghyun moves towards her, he lets the snide smile slide onto his lips, and he knows in the dark it looks as sinister and twisted as he truly is. he likes that about himself, likes his ability to play any part and his talent in hiding his true nature.

he reaches for her chin, gripping it between two fingers, fingers tight on her skin. he hopes his grip leaves marks as he holds her eyes level with his. "im afraid you're going to have to do much better than that, for speaking to the mighty kim jonghyun in such a way."

his free hand slides up her shoulder, slowly and gingerly, fingers searching before finding the small dip of her between collar bones. he smiles at her, hopes the image is planted in her mind, before giving a rough push on the nerves. it does what its intended, it paralyzes her and knocks her unconscious. her knees buckle and he catches her hastily, before shoving her into the back seat of the car. he climbs into his place beside her, meets eyes with the driver, and signals him to continue their way to his home.

it's a small drive the rest of the way, and his condo comes into view very shortly. the lights are familiar, and it brings a sense of relief from today's work load upon his shoulders. he doesn't pay the unconscious victim any mind until they arrive at the front doors. that's when he slides from his car, only to turn back around, scoop her body into his arms. he shoots the driver a glare, a motion and contract of silence. a silent threat. and then he makes his way through the lobby.

its late enough for stragglers to linger and they eye him wearily. he assures them as he passes that she was a girlfriend of his who had too much to drink that night at the club, and they offer their condolences. he smiles his charming gleam of a smile, bows his head and continues his way, only stopping once they reach the top floor to pull his key from his coat and usher the two of them inside, locking and bolting the door behind him.

jonghyun then drops her, hard, on his couch. if that doesn't wake her, it didn't matter because he is quick to shuffle his way into the kitchen, clean and white, and pull a cool water bottle from the fridge. he unscrews it and dumps the contents on her body.

"wake up."

[loeysenpai]

032 -034 | 100 Photos of Kim Jonghyun.

[exsabxsunhwa]

high hopes in velvet ropes, -- ✧

[sabxjonghyun-blog]

sabxsunhwa:

[ ◆ ]

(’ he’s sitting in his usual spot, his chair soundless as he rocked back in forth—knees hitting the ledge of his desk lightly. he’s reading, a proposal between his fingers, and his face is furrowed and frowned. naturally, he hates it—too choppy and too much risk.

his computer gives a small blink of a sound—an email notification, and it pulls him from his complainant thoughts. he snaps into place—sitting up straight as his fingers find his mouse and pull open his inbox. he clicks through a few employee emails he’s missed ')

(“—so and so can’t make it in today, her child is sick.”)  so fire her.

(“—mister jung asked for a reschedule for your meeting, he can’t make it this evening.”) book him in for a meeting three months from now, tell him im a very busy man.

(“—good afternoon. this is han sunhwa of hwang publishing for jeju life magazine.”)

(' his sneer disappears.

“another email from that woman.” he snorted—not a vain or arrogant act, but that of surprise. she was persistent, seeing how she had emailed him every day thus far this week. “and here i thought i had gone and scared her off.” ')

he was impressed, that was to be admitted.

to; han sunhwa ( [email protected] )

from; kim jonghyun ( [email protected] )

subject; re: terms of interview.

august 4th, 2014 → 02:45:36

ah, so i take it my explanation of 'threaten' was enlightening then, considering you’ve come to apologize, miss han.

im pleased to see you’ve dwelled on your actions though, and i suppose i’ll accept your apology.

  also, giving your phone number out so loosely—it’s a bit dangerous don’t you think? you really should be more careful, miss han.

  kim jonghyun,

ceo of the k●r group. 

[sabxjonghyun-blog]

▼

▼- Our muses in a broken elevator.

she’s trapped between him—breath heaving and mouth dry. his arms bulging from the pressure as he pushes himself against the wall, against her, their forms meshing and breathing into one another. he’s glad it’s dark, so the cameras cant see—the power had cut out long ago when the elevator first stopped. their skins, bare and sweat stained, whisper secrets to one another. he likes what they say—they talk of blood and of hate and of fear. and he feeds off of it. it intoxicates him, enriches him, her skin sweeter than any amount of blood.

but he is monster—he is no man. and it is blood he thirsts for. it is blood, it’s metallic taste and inebriating scent, that he holds on his tongue. it dances down her neck, tracing the gash in her skin. he knows it stings, knows it brings her pain. and that only drives him further. he drinks her, taking long and strong gulps of her blood. she tastes sweet—like citrus, and she tastes rich, like rosemary. he likes it, likes the way it feels when her warm blood trickles down his throat.

[sabxjonghyun-blog]

▼

▼- Our muses in a broken elevator

jonghyun doesn’t remember how he got on the floor—the disgusting, soiled floor. he vaguely remembers why he’s there, crammed into an elevator with a quiet girl who’s name always seems to slip past his mind while her face remains to linger. the flicker of the lights and the scrapping of the walls as the elevator groans to a stop, crammed between two floors—neither his destination. he remembers the aggravation, his many nights without sleep catching up to him and ruining any hope of a good mood. not that there was really any hope to behind with.

and then he remembers sleep—and he remembers waking to a beam of light and an echo of voices. they call to him, ask him how many are on board the elevator (“—just two of us.”) and if everyone’s alright (“—were fine, all alive and breathing”). they make a promise to retrieve them and he waits patiently for them to fulfill it. and then he notes how close the two of them, him and this mousey, strange girl.

he takes note on how he woke with her head on his shoulder, tucked up into the crook of his neck, breathing steady and serene. he recalls the way her body pressed into his arm, and her fingers clasped on his jacket.

and he feels disgusted. unclean and annoyed—his urge to push her away outweighing his urge to redeem his name. she looks at him, she’s awake now and her cheeks are pink. he looks away, sneering.

they don’t speak—whether from embarrassment or disgust, until they are retrieved and fished from the elevator. their feel hit tile and they are safe. and that’s when she turns to him, a small, polite smile on her face as her eyes scrutinize him. they study him, study him far too closely for his comfort.

“are you okay?”

she is polite and soft. and had jonghyun been a normal man he would have been smitten. instead he turns from her, away from her prying and hungry eyes. and gives a dismissive wave.

“please be sure not to speak to me again.” his eyes shoot back, giving her a small glance of a look over his shoulder. “i do not want to be affiliated with dirty girls.”

[sabxjonghyun-blog]

▼

▼- Our muses in a broken elevator.

 “this is your fault.”

his voice is accusing and harsh, a sneer planted firm on the line of his lips. he wants to scream at the girl, but those lingering in the hallways in between floors would hear and that would taint jonghyun’s perfect name. so he keeps his voice hushed and breathy, and he feels it adds more. shows how much he truly wants to slam her head into the wall.

“you had to press all the god damn buttons.”

he throws his hands up, defeated and agitated. “you’re like a child.”

she sits on the floor, relaxed and legs extended. her eyes roll at him but they don’t raise from her fingers, which she picked at idly—features bored and bland with disinterest.

“hello pot? this is kettle calling.” she sneers. “you’re the one stomping your foot like a five year old and throwing a fit.”

her eyes glance up at his, dark pools brimming with rage. he’s livid and he’s irritated and he wants nothing more than to break her apart, bit by bit, and chew her slowly. but he doesn’t, he simply takes a deep breath and continues on. his hands smooth the fabric of his shirt before dipping into the comfort of his pockets.

“why are you sitting on that disgusting floor?” his eyes travel from the stained tile to her face, his discomfort evident in the spasms on his lips. “or are you acquired to the feel of filth on your skin, miss jung?”

she shoots an icy look, one that would cut deep into the skin of jonghyun—but he’s accustomed to the glare. it’s one he sees every day when he gazes into a mirror. “im wearing heels, kim jonghyun. you try standing in these for an extended period of time.”

women—he thinks, they’re awfully whiny creatures. he allows himself to rest against the elevator doors, arms tucked under one another and scowl placed on his features.

“you do an awful bit of whining for a woman your age—are you sure you’re as old as you claim you are—“

he wants to finish the question, wants to egg her on and dig himself beneath her skin. but the elevator’s jolt catches him off guard as it propels down. before he can think the metal box has dropped into place and the doors slide open from under him.

he falls, landing on his back—half in the elevator and half out, spilled across the tile. soojung laughs from within the elevator, and moves to step out. her heels click on the tile on the tile as she steps over him, her leer wild and amused.

“jonghyun, why are you laying on that disgusting floor?” her lips jut out into a pout, cheeks inflated and eyes innocent. her hand moves to cover her laughing mouth. “or are you acquired to the feel of the filth on your skin?”     

[exsabxsunhwa]

chasing silhouettes, -- ✧

[exsabxsunhwa]

{ ◆ }

[sabxjonghyun-blog]

he wants to break her. wants to feel the crack of her neck beneath his palms, longs to feel the still of her pulse beneath his fingertips. it’s a hysteric feeling, sadistic and wrong and twisted and it makes jonghyun want to laugh, the chuckles bubbling in his chest. but he doesn’t—he keeps himself calm and in check. he is not afraid of her or her empty threats. her existence could be wiped from this world, cleaned of her filth, in a moments time. he is the king and she is the unworthy serf, weighed under his boot as he crushes his heel into her face. he doesn’t let it spill, his desire to break her and rip her apart until she tastes her own blood. it flickers in his eyes, a look of distain as he holds her gaze. he hopes she sees it, sees the sinister twist swimming in his dark pools.  and he hopes it frightens her.

“you hope a threat doesn’t come off negative?” he hisses, face drawing nearer. he takes in the small tremble of her lip and he feeds off it. he has the urge to squeeze her again, and he gives in—pushing his thumb into the dip of her throat and watching her choke. “you surely must think of me as a fool. or you simply do not understand the basic definition of a threat.”

jonghyun smirks at down at her. for a moment he lets himself linger in her space, inhaling deeply. his bloodlust is a twist in the gut and he wonders truly how long it’d take to plunge his bare, unsharpened, teeth into her veins and drink her empty. he can almost feel the tear of her skin between his teeth, and it brings out the animal within him. he grinds his jaw and his grip tightens into something lethal around the girl’s slender neck.

he lets out a chuckle as he watches her, drinking in her expression and her fear. it tastes better than any blood—supernatural or human, and it makes him drunk.

and then he brings himself back, sobers up and pulls away from her. his fingers drop from her neck, but the evidence is there, his prints embedded into her skin. he likes the way it looks, the flesh turned purple and lined an ugly yellow. he likes the way the skin blots and swells. he takes a minute to admire his work, another twisted grin playing at his features, before he turns back to the girl’s eyes.

she is adamant and stubborn and he can’t help but admire it. though she shakes and trembles before him—like a frighten child who’s lost her way home, she insists upon him. she threats him and a tests him and something about breaking her makes the blood pump faster in jonghyun’s veins.

“allow me to correct you.” he steps back, reaching into his coat pocket and pulling a pen and a silver case. he flips it open, drawing out his very own business card, and flips it over, scribbling in a elegant cursive.

thret—noun.

a declaration of an intention or determination to inflict punishment, injury, etc., in retaliation for, or conditionally upon, some action or course; menace.

he laughs at himself, a breathy deep sound, satisfied by his own sarcasm and humor. he tucks the pen and the case away before moving to the girl once more. he grabs her hand, uncurls the fingers, and exposes the palm.  the business card is stiff as he slides it against her skin and into her hold. he locks eyes with her before moving to her once more. he swoops in upon her, stealthy and suave. his eyes tower over her, trapping her beneath him as he pushes her, gently now, against the wall once more. his lips find her neck and he breaths against her for a moment, before moving to her ear—skin grazing against skin.

he pauses. “you know how to reach me if you need me, dear.”

the pet name isn’t affectionate. its possessive and cruel, a sneer and a hiss. but it satisfies him.

he smirks against her skin and pulls from her neck, trailing himself along her law line until he finds her mouth. he plants a single, tender kiss on the corner of her pout, teeth giving the skin a spirited nip.

and just as quick as he approached himself upon her, he is gone—taking several steps back and giving her a simple bob of his head—the cheeky and baleful grin never leaving his lips.

“have a good day, miss han.”

and then he disappears from the shadows of the alley, leaving her with his scent and a twisted promise. 

[sabxjoohyun-deactivated20160110]

after midnight : JH X HR

{ ◆ }

[sabxjonghyun-blog]

the bags beneath jonghyun’s eyes sat like a weight upon his face. he could feel them, sinking into his skin and pulling his cheeks taunt. he wondered how pale he was in that moment, how blood shot his eyes were, and how tight his frown held in its place upon his lips. the staff shrank away from him, all too aware of what he was like at this time of night—when the work kept him locked away in his office and hindered any form of sleep for days. he was, simply put, exhausted. his legs were heavy, each movement he made slow and delayed, each scuffle of his feet against the tile flooring of his lobby like a battle.

his staff stood in a line on both sides of him, heads bowed in respect to him—though they made sure to stay out of his path, standing feet away from him. no one wanted to be caught in his temper. he waved at them, a meek movement that seemed more like a flutter of fingers and a limb than an actual, hardy wave.

they open his door and he ushered himself outside. his car awaited him, a slick black model with glistening paint that under the nights glow radiated. he would of admired the clean surface and the soft leather interior, but he was simply too worn to muster the words. so instead he waited for his driver to pull open the door before sliding into the passenger seat with a sigh.

it was always like this—it was a life he had sold many souls for. he wondered how stained his hands would have been if he had not cleaned them—tainted with the blood of those who defied him. how many people did he sacrifice for a life behind a desk, brimming with paper work and liars who pick their way through deceit. for late nights without sleep and days without food, only to come home, sleep a scarce four hours, and do it all over again the next day.

he tried not to mind, kept reassuring himself it was worth it. but on nights like these, where sleep cooed pillow talk in his ears and lured him into her, he found it hard to weigh the pay off.

“sir, would you care to stop anywhere?”

“no, just drive.” he mulled over his exhaustion—turning his eyes out the window and to the streets.

the drive lead them through the slums, a pit of a neighborhood with broken and worn apartments and shops on the edge of violation. a short cut home—jonghyun noted. he usually would of complained, hissed a threat and have them turn around but he was far too tired to give a damn.

and that’s when he saw her—a stumbling girl. she walked forward, then fell on her face—an action so sudden it produced a laugh from jonghyun’s mouth.  the driver stopped, slammed on his brakes even, and shot jonghyun and questioning gaze.

the ceo flicked his wrist, dismissing him, before opening the door to his car and stepping outside towards her. she lay, face first,  against the ground—her eyes were wide with hysteria and she trembled.

“are you alright?” he raised an eye brow at her, and though he tried to remain a mannered man, he could not keep the hint of amusement from his tone. “have a nice fall, ma’am?”

[sabxjonghyun-blog]

☠

☠- One of our muse’s died, and the other is at the grave. (possibly ghost or drabble)

hes the last one remaining. the graveyard is, ironically, dead. the visitors long gone, probably home where they’d either mourn over the ache in their chests, or to continue—ignoring the idle flashes of memories here and there and repressing a sadness so deep it cuts through their bones and leaves them empty. he doesn’t mind, he prefers it this way. quiet, peaceful, no amount of strangers with choked sobs that leave his head throbbing for days.

he kneels, balancing on the tips of his feet and planting himself sturdy. he doesn’t dare get on his knees—the dirt will taint his new suit and he’s not fond of stains, nor dirt. so he keeps himself carefully balanced and hovering over the pile of earth beneath his feet.

he feels odd being here, gazing upon the tombstone of someone who left him behind. he’s done it many times, his own parents buried several plots away. but this time was different. he felt off, effected. though he was not quite sure why.

in some ways he had grown fond of her—han sunhwa. while she was easy to gaze upon from time to time, she was bright. and she loved him. and perhaps it was a nice change of pace, to have someone love him like she.

of course, he didn’t love her back. maybe he could have, but he didn’t simply have the time to. it was the funny way the world worked. he accepted that.

he reaches out, and brushes at the stone. its coated, overgrowing vines hanging from the dirt smeared structure. he dislikes how ugly it makes the grave appear, and it makes him angry.

she deserves better.

she did.

he wipes harder now, the rock scrapping at the palms of his hands. it cuts the skin and sets the nerves on edge. it stings, but he wipes harder, clearing every bit of plant and smudge from the grave’s face. he doesn’t stop until its clean and his hands are bloodied. then he simply lets them drop to his side, careful to keep them away from his clothes—blood stains the worse of the liquids.

he stares, indifferent. his actions startle him and for a moment he questions himself. he was fond of her, she was a bright woman, but she was naïve and oblivious enough. he liked what she provided, what she  brought forth in their relationship. she was a benefit and he was her luxury. and somewhere along the road he had grown a certain weakness for her.

he scoffs, then raises. he doesn’t want to be here anymore—the tight squeeze in his chest evident of that. he motions to his driver, who sits a reasonable distance from him, to start the car. the man scurries to the car and it starts to life and the sound pulls jonghyun from his wavering thoughts of her. he waltzes over to the cemetery gates, taking slow, long steps.

and then he pauses, takes a deep breath and takes a glance over his shoulder at her once more. his left eye stings, and jonghyun takes a moment to rest in shock as a small tear drips from the corner of his eye. it’s a sliver, barely anything present, but it’s there. he wipes it away with the tip of his sleeve, careful not to smear the blood from his hands on his cheeks. and then he turns from her, he pulls himself from her memory. the driver slips from the car and offers him the door. he slides into the car, joined in the front by the driver.

“sir?” he doesn’t look back at him, only forward with his hands placed on the steering wheel.

jonghyun offers one last glance out the window.

“just drive.”