Why is it so cold? Jihoon thought to himself, trying to move further into the sunlight in the park to try and stay warm. Then he tried humming to himself, but not even that seemed to allow the sunshine to warm him up. He looked around a bit and tried to find a logical explanation for the chill, but nothing made sense. Maybe he was going crazy?
“Am I sick?” He murmured to himself. He sniffled as he shivered, putting the back of his hand to his own cheek, trying to see if he was running a fever. He sure didn’t feel sick.
there was nothing he hated more than when a meal was cut short.
he drags the back of his wrist along the outline of his lips, cleaning the excess amount of flesh and blood from his lips and lets out a heavy, drawn out sigh. investigators were clouding the outside streets nearby, he’d spotted them just moments ago and it became clear his meal would go unfinished. she was a young, beautiful mealwoman– her skin was pale in the chill of the air, her hair was short and stopped at her jaw and her lips were tinted a dark shade, she’d matched the life of the night that surrounded them even in such an enclosed area— but she was far above beautiful now as she lay sanguine stained, what was once meticulous hair is now a dark, splayed out mass on the pavement below.
what a shame.
she was so frail now; his knee was pressed to her chest. all of him weighed down on her and left her breathing so, so shallow. yejun wasn’t one to stick around a burning building, after surviving three years in the 14th district, he knew more than enough when it wasn’t safe to stick around…and that time was now. tips of his fingers dig into the wood on his half mask nestled in his thick hair at the top of his head and he slips the half mask over his eyes to stop just at the end of his nose so only his lips are revealed. the mask is old, wooden and splitting along the edge and in desperate need of replacing, however, yejun isn’t made of money and there isn’t a thing he can do about this in the moment so he tightens it around his head and in a flash is standing.
he doesn’t say anything; he doesn’t want to say anything to the dying woman at his feet. while a good meal she would have been, she is useless to him now, a waste of time and merely a distraction that was keeping him from fleeing to safety.
so the bottom of his boot meets with her chest in replacement to his knee and he crouches down to meet eyes with her. her eyes are big, wide and are sparkling with tears as her time begins to run. he knows better than to leave a bloody mess, so he lifts the woman and carries her body bridal style off in a distance towards the large metal container people leave their trash in. in she goes, a loud thumb emitting as her body hits the cold metal. it doesn’t take long, a few pieces of paper from the can lit with the flick of a lighter and soon the flame grows and grows, her body lost below the glowing heat. it almost hurts him to simply disregard and throw away a meal so delectable, but his safety comes first and as soon as he finds himself turning to leave the scene, he is caught and left locked in place as he meets the eyes of another.
