it has been a terrible night, no doubt about it. not only has taemin failed in his quest to find comfort in soojung's bed, but he's also been accosted by one of the kids in the mansion and no matter how many times he's showered, he can still smell yang's dead, rotting flesh, that heartburn after-taste of seeing him lying motionless on the floor. he can still feel the heavy weight of the man as taemin and soojung had lifted him up to take him outside.
his night has been full of nightmares, none of them making any sense or connecting to each other. he keeps waking up in various states of disturbed and each time, he could swear he is being watched by something. never in his entire time here at the mansion has he had such difficulty sleeping, but this sure is one hell of a night.
when morning finally comes, he is already awake, and has been for at least an hour. he groans as he sits up, glaring at the cresting sun, peeking up over the horizon, the smallest glimmer of it seeping through the window curtains. for a moment, everything in his body is so stiff and painful, he doesn't dare move, worried that the headache will explode and render him bedridden for the rest of the morning, but then he remembers something. the snow, the storm last night.
he forces himself to stand to his feet, his body aching like an old man's, and walks over to the window, pushing the curtains aside. it's worse than he could have ever imagined. out here in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by mountains and a naturally frigid lake, they usually see heavy snowfall in the winter (or at least they had last year), but taemin has never seen snow this high, and from the shimmering everywhere, it looks iced over as well. from here, he can even see a few trees that have cracked open from the weight of the snow on their branches and he shivers.
his head hurts now, he's hungry, and all his hopes are dashed. what is he supposed to do? how is he supposed to send these people home; the boatman won't cross the river if it's frozen. he needs to go find out if it is, but for right now, food first. he changes clothes and puts on some house slippers, wandering out of the room and down the empty hallway, making his way across the stairs to the kitchen.
taemin doesn't love many things. he loves his mother and his sister, and that's about it for people. he hates almost everything about himself, except for his skills with cooking, and he hates everything about this mansion, except for this one room. it's sort of become his sanctuary in the past year, a place he can go and burn off his frustrations whenever yang and him have a fight. whenever yang was being an asshole. whenever yang wanted too much from him, and got furious at him for not being able to deliver properly.
taemin is especially protective of his favorite room as well, never ever letting soojung mess around in there. it isn't only because it's his space or anything though, but also because she can't cook worth a damn and he doesn't want her to burn anything or set the kitchen on fire.
that's who he initially thinks is in there right now at first, as he nears the room and hears loud clanging and banging and whispered curses. he frowns even harder, huffing, and is about to scold soojung until he steps inside and sees one of the guests-- the evil, snobbish lady-- trying to make something on his stove. a jolt of surprise, irritation, and fury shoot through him upon recognizing her. ugh, not again.
the scolding he'd had prepared for soojung was something quite a bit lighter than what comes to mind as soon as he sees her in his space, so he can't help but snarl out, "what in the hell are you doing in my kitchen?!"
