au. gemini
he’s not thinking of her – not particularly, even though most of the time it’s unavoidable, like knowing that he’s himself – because it isn’t exactly the best time to be thinking about other people when older, much powerful figures are in front of him. the apartment stinks of cigarette smoke and, on the small round table, yixing can see the tell-tale specks of white that certainly can’t be salt or sugar. no, this apartment isn’t for living in. the blood stains on the couch is proof enough of that.
“so what do i get,” he begins, “if i agree to be the boss? just more people coming after me?” he asks it directly; it’s better this way, and besides, he has no patience for two-faced niceties. “give me a guarantee that i’ll be safe–,” and suddenly he’s on a plane, but he isn’t; suddenly, without warning, without him really wanting to, he’s suddenly beside krystal, even though he’s well-aware that his ass is on the same couch that many other mob bosses have sat on, and it’s hard to pay attention to the reassurances of others when she’s beside him –
“excuse me,” he says, briefly, “i need to take a call.”
and just like that he’s darting out into the hallway, pretending to take his phone out, and instead speaking to the woman beside him on the plane he’s not really on – “where are you going, krys?”