「Like a Storm」Jonghyun&Key
Blood. He could smell it everywhere - the putrid, metallic smell of the reddish substance that seemed to paint the ground with a peculiar pattern. It matched the screams and pleas of those who his hatred was beyond controllable, trying in a foolish way to find a way out of the hell that belonged to them. The white-haired man could only laugh, loving how the members of the rival gang were spread lifeless on the cobblestone pavement given the bomb once exploded, savouring his glorious time whilst squatting down occasionally to see their faces. He knew some of them; the male had memorized those he had drilled with a bullet of his own, but no time would be wasted to end the suffering he had so gladly given.
The air was drowned with the sounds of metallic snaps, clicks and bangs every single second. The Cottonmouth could hear magazines loaded into the chambers, gun sights were constantly being checked for accuracy; hearing the slide pulled back, dragging as smooth as possible. Every sound sent a thrilling chill in his blood. The maddening sensation was incredibly overwhelming, crashing and flowing in his veins so deliciously that Jonghyun was in raw ecstasy. He couldn’t hide the frenzied smirk that kept lingering in his lips; the sight of the festival alone completely in ruins was far more than delightful.
Jonghyun had changed. Since that day -- he did.
For over a whole week, he proved incapable of dealing with the fact he would never see that boy again. He spent the first days in denial, foolishly believing he would get over him soon, trying to distract himself with his daily routine, deals and duties given by the highs. It worked, at first. Until he started to miss Key more than ever. Each day became more of a torture to the point he lost the capacity to work as flawless as he often did. He lost deals, got caught countless times and before he could even process it; he had his own gang pointing their fingers at him. The male felt useless, infuriated by the weakness he never thought he had until then. Key. Key was his weakness. In such a short time he had become the perfect weapon to take Jonghyun down.
And Jonghyun... He detested the thought of such independence when Key was completely fine in giving the cold shoulder. He needed his control back, his own dominance that faded away along with the boy's existence. He started consuming drugs as well as catching flying men and women at bars, the alcohol only adding to the magic -- everything that could indeed erase all thoughts he would have of the boy. The white-haired man quickly put himself into dangerous situations where he found the most phenomenal pleasure in killing the enemies. It wasn't the first time Jonghyun held a gun to kill - he had been there before being a weapon specialist and a drug dealer. But never before he had found such adrenaline and enthusiasm. Every day he killed more and more... And everyday memories of the boy he once craved so much were erased. The more he realized his success, the addicted he became to that routine.
And that's why he was part of the many members now invading the festival, a maddened smirk constantly plastered on his facial expression. His gun was continuously being reloaded, his arms shaking with the fierce impulse given for the bullet being projected. His mind was tainted with black and crimson, his eyes wide like those of an eagle. Any movement he could see, any sound he could hear and was not related to his fellow members, Jonghyun's gun was immediately aimed at them, shooting senseless.
His eyes shifted, however, to his pocket when he felt his phone vibrating and in a rush he pulled it off, believing it was a SOS message or merely orders. But his whole body stiffened when he recognized the number. Because yes, Jonghyun did delete Key from his list. But no. He didn't forget his number. For a split second, he panicked, realizing only then that it was so evident Key would be there in the festival. Why not? Why didn't Jonghyun think about it? Oh, yes. Because he was too distracted in trying to forget him. His expression contorted into sheer preoccupation, the Jonghyun he once was being shoved to the surface. But no, he wouldn't let this happen again. He would not fall once again into the same trap. Not again.
The smirk once again returned despite it faltered constantly and whilst he strode through the massive piles of bodies, his fingers were absently pressing on the screen.
[ ✉ ] Please, enlighten me, Key. Am I only useful when there is no one else to help you?
[ ✉ ] You amuse me.
And despite all the hatred and rage, he was breathless from running like a mad man, his head constantly turning from side to side, seeking for anything that would indicate Key's presence. Fuck. Why was he so agitated already? Why couldn't he move on with the plan? The boy was Wolfsbane, he should be a target for Jonghyun too. But deep inside, all he could think about was the wounds, the pain and the fear. What had happened? What was happening? His mind was a mess of questions, a nest of images of the boy in the worst possible ways. Fuck. Why?
His teeth gritted painfully, his jaw clenched, reflecting the internal conflict he was having. But everything blacked out when he saw a trail of blood, distinct from the others. It was fresh, really fresh -- too fresh compared to the rest. He followed it with long and fast strides, his hand curling tightly his gun, eyes constantly shifting from side to side and the ground.
It was then that Jonghyun saw the root of a tree, the pool of blood nearby and a body veiled by the long trunk, only part of am arm being visible. He stormed towards it, his eyes growing wider than ever, legs quickly shaking with the sight before him. He was... Petrified, so shocked to his core that he had no other option but squat down with the loss of strength.
