&; how it feels to be lost }
he ceased the jigging of a paperclip’s end in the tiny hole of handcuffs still tethering him to the leg of the desk in front of him abruptly, glaring at the officer on the other side of the table as he slipped his tool back into the folds of his palm. so close, he’d been so close. now he’d have to start all over again.
“i don’t know what you’re talking about,” he mumbled flatly, petulantly, through tight lips and an understandably gloomy disposition. they’d only booked him to teach him a lesson, he was sure of it. but there was that nagging voice at the back of his conscience, reminding him of why he’d been kicked out of his makeshift home by a man he’d once regarded as a mentor, perhaps even a father figure. he was, legally, an adult now, and he could be arrested and tried as such. he could feel those facts ticking away on the computer screen facing away from him, his fate whirring by in the clacking of keys under the officer jeon’s fingers.
“they’re gonna let me go anyway,” he added, still with a dripping, confident defiance, in spite of his silent insecurity, fringe falling over a forehead long since dried of the sweat he’d accumulated trying to run from his current fate. perhaps, if he appealed to this officer’s logical side, his stay under horrid police department flourescents would be that much shorter, “might as well get it over with.”
his stomach growled loudly, an unfortunate tell, an involuntary confession of his current state. he was hungry, the peaking of adolescence having lined up with the dawning of his newfound vagrancy in a truly unlucky and painfully dissonant coincidence. he huffed in response, as if to cover up the sound of his empty stomach and the frightening uncertainty of his future, shooting his glare at another officer who happened to walk by and make the accidental mistake of catching his eye. his knee bobbed anxiously under the desk, scraped knee stinging underneath worn denim only one of many reminders of the day’s scuffle to survive.
“what’s taking so long?” he finally demanded, adjusting his disdainful stare back onto the man in front of him, “it was just a stupid tourist.”
jeongguk didn’t even know why they were making him do this. this wasn’t his job. his job was to stay behind his computer, only talking to his co-workers, giving them information as needed and letting them do the dirty work, as he has his entire life. he was supposed to hack what they need and find what they want, or even what they don’t ask for, and that’s all. he was no detective, hell, he was no actual police officer. he was still taking his classes at the police academy, not having graduated or done the regular time that the others have. by all standards he was drastically unqualified for anything outside of his job.
and yet there he was, across the desk from a handcuffed kid. he wasn’t really a kid. jeongguk was more of a kid than haneul when he was doing worse. some of them just got into this world too early. jeongguk didn’t know how he managed to avoid the mpd so long himself-- no, actually, he did know. it was because he’s good at what he does. he thought he never left a footprint until the mpd finally did find him, and called him home, if he could call myeongcho home. he still couldn’t-- not anymore.
hanuel’s case didn’t take an expert hacker to crack, though, which was part of why getting stuck here was so infuriating. apparently everyone else had something better to do (like jeongguk didn’t.) “be quiet,” jeongguk warned, eyes flickering to haneul momentarily before returning to his screen, content to block all of the teen’s bravado out while he reviewed all of the information on him, trying to judge his fate-- trying to decide what he thought he deserved.
sure, the mpd had much bigger and better to worry about than a petty thief, but jeongguk was never fond of people that ran their mouths, unjustifiably confident. haneul fit that bill easily. “looking at your criminal record,” he hummed in response.
haneul also fit the bill of a kid in over his head, and jeongguk would’ve much preferred to shelf his newly developed empathy. he couldn’t help but see himself in him, mouthing off and all-- thinking he was untouchable, too confident in his own skills, greedy to show them off and conquer greater challenges, plunge into deeper into depths of knowledge and risk and poison. he spent so long drowning. phoenix still thought he did drown there. was haneul drowning?
jeongguk wasn’t deaf; he heard their resident pickpocket’s stomach rumble, but didn’t allow it to draw too much of his sympathy. “there’s a lot here. are you sure you’re in a position to do anything but cooperate?”
