HE WASN’T ONE FOR PRYING SIMPLY because these were the streets — they held secrets that he wasn’t meant to know and for good reason ( he was already tangled in messes he made himself and he didn’t need his name whispered on more unwanted lips ). yedam was haunted by the same ghosts everyone in his VICINITY were all too familiar with as well, and whilst that didn’t scare him, knowing too much did. his life was spent a s a f e distance from caring for others, but somewhere along the line with youra yedam had evidently failed, if even only slightly, and his brows furrowed in a worrying manner. if there was anything he had learned it was that everyone here knew to take care of themselves, but the boy was all paper walls and a soft core — he couldn’t stop it from seeping through every now and then. it was the only thing that made him remember he was still human.
yedam tilted his head to the side, taking in youra’s mannerism, the way she seemed to swallow her pride, but the man could only notice because he had spent too much time admiring that countenance. she always did seem to wear that perfect mask and not even now could she seem to let it sleep. maybe that was what worried him most. «cash,» he echoed, electing not to question who ‘they’ were ( he didn’t ask questions he didn’t want to know the answer of ). «i’m .. i’m not sure how much i can help you with,» he admitted DEFEATEDLY, taking a step closer towards her. had it been anyone else he would’ve refused, but it wasn’t: this was youra. for some reason, he found himself either: 1. trusting her or, 2. not particularly caring about whether she’d pay back or not. he was put on earth for a good time, not a l o n g time. «are you in trouble, princess ?»
Distantly, Youra knows—beyond the truths they don’t share, the words he won’t say, what she sees in his eyes; she doesn’t have any words for it, but she has a feeling--she knows there’s a reason why she goes to him. Maybe because she knows he wouldn’t have refused her. There’s plenty of dark alleys where you can get your hands on some quick cash for the right exchange, but she knew the one coming from Yedam would be at a cost she wouldn’t mind paying. At his admittance, her shoulders fall past the obstinately squared stance she always keeps them at. Her face remains impassive out of habit; she lets out only a deep breath she doesn’t remember inhaling-- -well, fuck.
( Some where beyond the momentary exhaustion that tinges like fear in the back of her throat is the budding of anger. When she’ll tame the urgency of her current predicament, Youra knows the only thing that will be left behind will be fury that sits like blackened tar in the hollow of her chest—wild and messy. )
It blinds her for a moment, the panic and the anger. They’ve started to taste so familiar on her tongue when it shapes words that she’s starting to forget how to tell them apart. Youra’s never been good at taming it either, the way everything she feels stretches and pulls beyond her skin in some form of display—like she can’t help when what she feels in her chest is displayed on her sleeve for everyone to see. ( She’s only good at holding herself tall, holding herself as strong—not so much at hiding away the rest of her. ) Hands coming to curl in the lapels of the jacket he wears as if to anchor herself, she inhales and exhales another huff of air, gaze drawing up to the dark night sky as her mind convinces itself on what she has to do next to save her skin.
“More trouble than you’d think.” She mumbles in response, voice quiet out of thought and some sort of untimely defeat. Thumb stroking absentmindedly on the fabric she has a hold on, it takes her those moments to settle herself into something resolute before she lowers her gaze to match his again. “—The syndicate, they’re running tonight’s race, aren’t they?” She asks, referring to the race he’d quipped about missing not a moment ago. It seems counterintuitive to ask another gang for money to pay off the one she already owes—but it’s the only catch 22 reliable enough for the quick cash she’s looking for. “I’ll strike a deal with them.”
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