wyjihan:
Shame prevailed. It was an unpleasant feeling, one that he was not accustomed to, as it was so out of character for Jihan to act upon such whims. He blamed timing. If Jin hadn’t been in his vicinity just a handful of hours after he had discovered the documents, he would have sat and simmered. Oh, how he wished he had visited his friend first.
As if he were a child being chastised, his head bowed. “That’s just it. I wasn’t thinking.” Even to his own ears, he sounded rather pathetic. Jihan had made a fool out of himself in front of Jin, and now, he had disappointed Jung-min. Lips thinned and curled inwards as his head rose. His eyes actively avoided Jung-min’s, for he didn’t wish to see what may have been reflected there.
“I’m just tired of it.” Jihan had a tendency to be honest, at times brutally so, but he would never express such a sentiment outside of this office. Jihan could be vulnerable here–he trusted Jung-min. “He was so… smug. How do you, um… how do you deal with it? I don’t like feeling angry.”
He didn’t.
Jung-min clenches his first again, pale knuckles reminding him of the sweet, melodic tune gurgled from his victim’s throat. The serenade fell short of the pleasure he received from enacting revenge, thrusting an unsheathed box cutter into porcelain skin with vigor. He remembers her writhing beneath his hands, helplessly tangled in a mink blanket soiled with blood-- her blood-- beneath a hung portrait from her wedding day. Jung-min anticipated the groom’s reaction when he learned of his wife’s “untimely” death, by his hand.
Unbeknownst toe Ji-han, the sadist’s mouth twitched out of amusement. ❝ ...I worked. ❞ The smile wanes. Jung-min’s gaze wandered about the office, from its stippled glass walls to his own wedding photo positioned on the outermost corner of his desk, unscathed. ❝ I turned that anger I felt into productivity-- I made sure that man paid for his actions. Channel your anger into your work. We will avenge our families, Ji-han ssi. ❞
