Status: Closed
This round has closed. It remains open for fills, comments and remixes, but prompts are no longer accepted.
About
"If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more."
"What is grief, if not love persevering?"
"You kept me like a secret but I kept you like an oath"
Calling all readers, lovers of poetry and music, screen and stage. Quote collecters and lyric hoarders, unleash your archive. Each prompt must contain a quote - you can combine them, add commentary, link to articles, and more. Steal from a literary classic, or WeVerse drama. Have fun!
Examples
Minghao + Ocean Vuong
The most beautiful part of your body
is where it's headed. & remember,
loneliness is still time spent
with the world.
Ocean Vuong - night sky with exit wounds
Hoshi/Anyone; "Beauty is terror"
Thinking about these two quotes together and the idea of on/off-stage personas:
"Beauty is terror. Whatever we call beautiful we tremble before it. And what could be more terrifying or beautiful, to the Greeks to to our own, than to lose control completely?" - Donna Tartt, the Secret Histories
"I am calm in everyday life but when I put on my in-ear device and step on stage, I can feel the tension and hear the cheers getting louder as the music gets louder. When the staff tells me it's time to step on stage, I feel something boil inside me. I feel it steaming inside and I think I have to give a burst of something, spill what is inside me." - Hoshi in Hit the Road Ep. 04
Any ship; "It's been so many years"
Hello, hello there, is this Martha?
This is old Tom Frost
And I am calling long distance
Don't worry 'bout the cost.
'Cause it's been forty years or more
Now Martha please recall
Meet me out for coffee
Where we'll talk about it all.
Tom Watts - Martha
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Deep in my enemy I find the lover;
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: N/A
Do Not Wants: None
Prompt:
[FILL] Deep in my enemy I find the lover;
Major Tags: Sexual Content, Brief depictions of violence
Additional Tags: rival gangs, think romeo and juliet but not really
Permission to remix: Yes
Word Count: 4990
dear ki, i can only hope this fic is even a fraction as good as your prompt is! i definitely lost my mind while writing this. much love <3
also i'm on four hours of sleep so if there are any typos that's probably why
[1/2]
The raindrops drum on Seokmin’s window. If he closed his eyes, he would think they were bullets trying to break through. It's dark outside, but the moon is almost full, and the glare of the streetlights illuminates the streets outside, so the night is unusually well-lit. There aren’t many people outside at this time of night, but Seokmin can see the occasional figure skulking about, shivering in the cold, hiding amongst the shadows. In all honesty, he wouldn't be surprised if he did hear bullets at some point during the night.
But that's not why he's awake. He's awake because he's waiting for someone.
And he doesn't have to wait for too long. The small sound of shoes coming up the metal fire escape lets him know that his visitor has arrived. He opens the window, letting in the cold and the rain and the man he's been waiting for.
“What took you so long?” Seokmin whispers, without any bite. They have to whisper - if someone came in to find him in Seokmin's room, they'd both be dead men.
“Nothing,” Mingyu replies, squeezing through the window. “Why? Eager? You been waiting up for me?”
“Of course I’ve been waiting up for you, otherwise I’d be asleep right now. Not because I’m eager.”
Mingyu just grins at him. The lights in the room are off - that's the way they prefer it - so it's only the moonlight that guides Seokmin and shows him the curve of his smile, the glint of his teeth, the smoothness of his skin.
It also shows him the drop of rain that slides down Mingyu’s nose and drips onto the floor.
“Let’s dry you up before we do anything else,” Seokmin decides, moving to grab a towel from the small en-suite.
“Wouldn't it be better for you if I caught a cold? You and your, uh, Dragons?” Mingyu says that last word with a smug leer, and it sends a chill down Seokmin's spine. He doesn't really like being reminded of the circumstances when Mingyu’s here, not when they could be focusing on other things.
“Well, I’m not thinking about them. I’m thinking about me. You're not exactly going to be a great kisser if you sneeze.”
He reaches up - hating the few centimetres that Mingyu has on him - and dries Mingyu’s face and neck, taking his time with it. Mingyu’s breath hitches. The touch is good, but not good enough, not when Seokmin knows he could be tracing a path over the vast expanse of Mingyu with his fingertips. He dries Mingyu’s hair too, standing close enough to him that their breaths mingle in front of their mouths. Seokmin feels a current everywhere his fingers touch Mingyu’s hair, and it's the most anything he's felt in a few days.
“I think my hair’s dry enough,” Mingyu whispers, and Seokmin feels the words more than he hears them. He steps away to hang the towel back up in the bathroom, sensing that Mingyu’s eyes are on him the whole time.
If this were somewhere else, if they were out in the street somewhere, and Mingyu was looking at him like that, Seokmin would be scared. Of course he would - no Shadow looks at a Dragon like that without wanting to hold him down in defeat. But here, Seokmin knows better than that. Here, they can be both - hunter and hunted, predator and prey. Being held down can be a victory.
Seokmin makes his way over to Mingyu, deliberately slowly, ignoring the rapid drumming of his heart. As soon as he's close enough, Mingyu wraps his arms around Seokmin's waist, pulling him in.
“Now who's eager?” Seokmin teases. Mingyu just splays his hands over the small of Seokmin’s back, apparently not able to reply.
Seokmin smirks, bringing his hands to Mingyu’s torso, ever so slowly grazing them up from his lean stomach up to his chest. Mingyu’s T-shirt is cold and wet from the rain, so it's clinging to him, showing off his body.
“Let’s get these wet things off you, hm?” Seokmin whispers, punctuating it with a bite to the shell of his ear. Mingyu groans, moving his fingers under Seokmin’s shirt, sending pulses of heat through his skin with each feather-light touch.
This is getting a bit too delicate for Seokmin's tastes. He pulls Mingyu down for a proper kiss, hungry and heavy. His hands move up, fingers tightening in Mingyu’s hair, the grip almost cruel - but Mingyu likes almost cruel. They lose themselves in their kisses, nipping at each other’s lips, pulling each other closer than close.
At some point, Seokmin wrangles Mingyu’s shirt off him, and so it's only fair that Mingyu does the same to him. Hunter and hunted. Seokmin takes Mingyu to the bed, pushing rather than guiding, holding his wrists down as he mouths over his chest, tongue curling around his nipple. Mingyu whines high in his throat, and when Seokmin's hands are busy roaming over his middle, Mingyu takes advantage - he flips Seokmin over, straddles him, grinds down on his hips. Seokmin’s eyes close as he groans, but not before he notices the moonlight cast a glint on Mingyu's teeth.
It’s those teeth that sink into the tender skin of Seokmin's neck, almost like he wants to draw blood. Seokmin tries to grind up into Mingyu, but his hips are lifted up, out of reach. Fine. Seokmin instead grabs Mingyu’s ass, squeezing it, landing a sharp slap on it to hear Mingyu gasp. Seokmin smiles at that, in spite of himself. They've done this enough times to know what each other’s weaknesses are, to find where the other is more vulnerable and to exploit it over and over. It sends a warm thrill through Seokmin’s blood every time, to know they can make each other crumble again and again, no matter how familiar they become.
There comes a point in any struggle where one person submits to the other, giving them their satisfaction. Today, Seokmin lets it be him, lets Mingyu bear the glory of it. But they both know, as Mingyu holds his wrists down and pushes into him, that this victory is short-lived, and that it only takes a minute to turn a victor into a victim.
***
Maybe it didn’t have to be like this. Maybe in another world, where street gangs were a hypothetical, Seokmin and Mingyu could know each other properly.
They used to know each other back in high school. Maybe ‘know’ is a strong word for it. But they were acquainted. Honestly, Seokmin didn’t think that Mingyu was anything special. He was unnaturally tall, sure, but that was offset by how he was still growing into his limbs, clumsy and a bit too big for himself. From the brief glimpses Seokmin caught of him, it seemed he was awkward and loud and tried too hard. And Seokmin’s pretty sure Mingyu must have felt the same way about him. They were both the same in that way, really - utterly unremarkable except by virtue of who they’re friends with.
The thing is, high school is where it all starts and ends. Your friends in high school are your friends for life. That’s how the gangs work. So Seokmin’s and Mingyu’s fates are sealed as soon as they make friends in their first few weeks of high school, when they barely even know their way around the building. Seokmin hangs around with Seungcheol from the Dragons - he’s cool and strong and knows what he’s doing, and Seokmin can’t help but shelter under him. Mingyu befriends Wonwoo from the Shadows, who’s smart and tough. Wonwoo makes plans, Mingyu executes them. Wonwoo and Seungcheol each have their own friends who are even older and even wiser, and those friends have older friends too, until eventually Seokmin realises that what he’s gotten himself into is a family. Not a family tree, necessarily, but a family chain forged through grit and spilt blood, each person inseverably linked to the next.
And, like with any family, the sins of the fathers are visited on the sons.
So Seokmin doesn’t really see Mingyu a lot in high school. He’s too busy hanging around with Seungcheol, either cowering behind him or posturing before him. He’s learning how to fight, how to hold his own, how to heal. He learns about the Shadows, their strengths and weaknesses and foibles, until he knows more about their gang than his own. He’s learning, in his own way, to be a man.
The first time he sees Mingyu after high school is in his first fight. Which isn’t surprising. It’s a scorching midsummer day, so hot that Seokmin can almost smell the asphalt. Even in his tank top, he feels like he’s suffocating. He isn’t feeling normal, he can’t, not on a day like this. The blazing sun has driven him out of his mind. So that’s why, when he and some of the other Dragons meet some Shadows on the street corner, he knows what’s going to happen. He knows how this has to end.
Wonwoo’s taunting Seungcheol. Seokmin can barely hear what he’s saying because of the blinding sun. Wonwoo’s good at taunts, though, because it’s Seungcheol that throws the first punch. A rookie error, really. But not unsalvageable.
There’s enough of the Dragons to take one Shadow each - Seokmin can’t be bothered to count how many. He just lunges at the first body he can find, using his speed to his advantage. The guy he was facing clearly doesn’t have good reflexes. He goes for it repeatedly, aiming at his face and chest and limbs. His vision is blurred to the point where all he can see is a flurry of skin and fabric, so he doesn’t know how badly he’s hurting the guy. He lets the strength of the sun imbue with him power as he jabs at his opponent over and over, but he doesn’t know if he’s making a difference. He can’t even see the guy’s face.
He does feel the man’s fist connect with his jaw, though. It knocks him off guard. All he can see is a tanned fist and rays of fierce sunlight. Not even looking where he’s aiming, he kicks back, landing on the guy’s stomach. When he hears his opponent run towards him again, he readies his hands for a shove.
He stops mid-movement when he looks properly and realises it’s Mingyu. He doesn’t know why. Perhaps some part of him expected Mingyu not to be involved in all this, like he was smarter and better than the muck of street gangs.
But perhaps not. Mingyu takes advantage of Seokmin’s weak moment. He shoves him onto the sidewalk, pinning him down by the shoulders. Seokmin can practically taste the gritty concrete. He tries to grab at Mingyu, but Mingyu must have worked out since high school, because he can barely move. He struggles in Mingyu’s vice-like grip, turning his head so he doesn’t have to feel his breath on his skin. It doesn’t work very well. Mingyu’s face has blocked out the sun from Seokmin’s vision, so he can see his golden skin and soft features a bit too well. Mingyu’s lip curls into a smirk, and an icy knot forms in Seokmin’s gut.
Distantly, though, he thinks this isn’t such a bad view. If he had to be pinned down by any member of the Shadows, he’d rather it be Mingyu.
But he couldn’t let him win for good. Somehow finding a way to get his legs free, he knees Mingyu’s chest. Hard. It forces Mingyu to roll away from him, allowing him to stand up and dust himself down. A surge of strength rushes through him as he looks down at Mingyu. He feels powerful, like he and Mingyu have achieved something, even though he can taste blood in his mouth. For once, Seokmin thinks he can maybe understand the glory of a rumble.
Some random Shadow holds a hand out for Mingyu to take, giving Seokmin a dirty look as he does so. Seokmin just raises his eyebrows in return.
Mingyu, though. Mingyu gives him a different look entirely. Like he wasn’t expecting Seokmin to be here, or to knock him down like he just did.
Seokmin ends up seeing Mingyu a lot after that.
***
People make habits out of the strangest things. The first time that Seokmin and Mingyu got together was odd enough, a clumsy moment in a bar where they were both alone until they weren't. I remember you from school, Mingyu had said. That's not the same me, Seokmin had replied. But it was even stranger that they agreed to keep doing this, despite the risk and the tension of it all. Or perhaps because of it.
But they made it their habit - sneaking up each other’s fire escapes and tussling until one of them gave in. It was like the rumble, really, but one that Seokmin could really enjoy. They weren’t working against each other here. They were working with each other; they were struggling and grappling with each other to make each other feel good. The glory could be theirs - shared, not split. In the privacy of a room, they could shut out the chill and the rain and the storm, and they could kindle their own hearth with the power movement of their bodies.
Tonight, Seokmin thinks that things would be different in another lifetime. He’d want to take things slower. He’d want to feel every inch of Mingyu’s smooth skin, to bite and nip and break him down. He’d want Mingyu to take him into his mouth, torturously gentle, while Seokmin pulled his hair desperately. He’d want to turn Mingyu round and open him up with his mouth, making Mingyu so sensitive he’d start to cry.
But they're not in another lifetime. They're in this one. So when Mingyu clumsily knocks down a vase on the windowsill, a single rose tumbling out as he clambers inside, Seokmin thinks that he can't play the long game with him. Even as Mingyu apologises, shakily setting the vase upright, he knows they have to wrestle. They have to push each other round until someone falls, like they always do, so that for once they can feel something that isn’t quite hate. Tonight, it's Seokmin's turn to win, warming Mingyu’s skin with his fingers and lips, feeling his own blood roar with heat and thrill and life as he takes Mingyu face-down.
(The rose on the windowsill was from Mingyu, funnily enough. He brought it on a whim one day. He’d said, I thought I might as well make this romantic. Seokmin had laughed and replied, It’s cute that you think this is a romance.)
The first thing that Mingyu says once they're done, when Seokmin has barely started cleaning him up, is,
“There's going to be a rumble soon.”
“What?” Seokmin replies, not quite getting it.
“A rumble. It will be a surprise - well, it will be a surprise to the Dragons.”
“When? Why?” Seokmin asks, his hands still.
“I don't know why. I guess they want to settle things. Your guys landed Chan in hospital last week, so that's probably it.”
“How do you know?”
“Wonwoo trusts me.”
“He shouldn't.”
Mingyu’s face changes at that. “I’m not telling everyone,” he responds indignantly. “I just don't want you there.”
“You can't tell me what to do.”
“I’m not trying to. I just don't want you caught up in all that. They're out for blood-”
“Aren't they always?”
“-and vengeance. I’m worried, Seokmin. I don't want you to risk it. I won't be going.”
“What's it to you if I get caught in the rumble? I can throw a few punches. Unless that's what you're scared of?”
Mingyu sighs. “Please, Seokmin,” he implores. “I don't know what they'd do to you, and I don't want to find out. Now are you going to do this or should I do it myself?”
Mingyu reaches out for the cloth, but Seokmin holds it out of his reach, looking him square in the eye. Mingyu relaxes, and lets Seokmin do it. A warmth floods through Seokmin's nerves as he thinks about what Mingyu just said. Mingyu doesn't care for him, because he can't, but this is close enough. As he cleans Mingyu up, Seokmin can only hope that his hands can say what his tongue is too heavy to.
Thank you for telling me. You didn't have to. You’d better stay out of it as well - I don't know what I’d do otherwise.
[...]
Re: [FILL] Deep in my enemy I find the lover;
People make habits out of the strangest things. Seokmin doesn’t know why the war between the Dragons and the Shadows broke out - nobody does. But there must have been one first fight that spiralled out of control, and now nobody can escape it. Those original Shadows and Dragons made it their habit to wrestle with each other for whatever reason they could find, and now everyone has to do it. The sins of the fathers are visited on the sons.
Seokmin doesn’t like the violence. Not anymore. After the thrill of the first fight with Mingyu wore off, he stopped craving it. The glory that rushed through him when he stood over Mingyu on the sidewalk that day never came again, and now Seokmin thinks maybe it’s only Mingyu that can make him feel that way. Whether it’s fighting or sex, something about grappling with Mingyu changes him into something he can never be with anyone else. It’s not even about winning or losing - it’s about their sheer strength, the beauty and the struggle of what they can do together.
But Mingyu doesn’t turn up to fights either, so throwing punches is useless. He gets involved when he has to, of course, but it’s not the same. It could be a burning hot day, and Seokmin would just feel cold and limp, even as he spars with some Shadow whose name he’s forgotten. Nothing can relight the embers of whatever he had with Mingyu, nothing can make the same thrill spark in his nerves. He just feels brain-dead, moving because he has to, doing the bare minimum to try and escape unscathed.
So it’s a bad habit, all the fighting. Seokmin prefers to stay back, to heal. He prefers to douse Hansol’s wounds with antiseptic and bandage him up, or to talk Seungcheol down after a particularly rough brawl. His instincts aren’t to hurt, he knows that. The other Dragons know that too, which is why nobody pushes him to fight. They all prefer it when Seokmin is back at Seungcheol’s house, ready to soothe them and patch them up. And Seokmin likes it too - he likes being useful, he likes knowing that people want him to mend them.
There’s just one problem. For Seokmin to be a healer, somebody has to be hurt.
That’s why, as much as he hates violence, Seokmin depends on it. What use is he otherwise? If he can’t fight and he can’t heal, there’s nothing he really can do. He belongs where he’s useful, and he’s useful here. He helps his family heal, he nurses them back to full strength. What more can Seokmin ask for?
Seokmin hates violence. But, in some sick way, violence is all he’s got.
***
Seokmin senses something is off as soon as Mingyu crawls through the window. He doesn't put his hands on Seokmin immediately, like usual. Instead, he looks at him and asks,
“Seokmin, turn the light on.”
“Why?” Seokmin asks.
“I just- I have something to say.”
Seokmin doesn't quite know what to do. He turns the light on - a cheap, half-working bulb - and makes his way over to Mingyu, who’s standing with his back to the window.
“Well, go on then,” Seokmin says.
“Seokmin,” Mingyu starts. He then stops to clear his throat, before continuing. “Seokmin. I think we should get away from all this. We've been doing this for- what, two years now? And I think we both agree that it's awful being here. It's awful, worrying that one day everyone you know will get landed in hospital, or killed, or put in jail. I can't take it. I know there's more to life than this. So I’m going away. I want to- to get an actual job, or learn something, or be useful, you know? And I think you'd want to as well - you never like the violent side of life here. So I think we should find something together. Let’s go, together, to make something better for ourselves.”
Silence rings in the air as Mingyu finishes speaking. Seokmin has to take a step back, letting a rush of cold air fill the gap between them.
“What?” he asks in disbelief.
“You- I want you to get away with me. I want to get away from this hellhole, and I want you there as I do it.”
Seokmin can't help but raise his eyebrows at that. Mingyu can’t really be expecting him to leave everything he knows, can he?
“Mingyu,” he replies with a sigh, “what are you talking about?”
Mingyu’s face darkens slightly, under the flickering glow of the lightbulb.
“What do you mean?” he says, more forcefully. “I think I’m being perfectly clear. I’m sick of it here, and I want to move on. I’m tired of being defined by the friends I made years ago, friends who would throw me to the wolves for a scrap of glory.”
“And you’re not the same?” Seokmin interrupts. “You’re really telling me you don’t chase glory? I’ve seen what you’re like, Mingyu.”
“No, I don’t,” Mingyu replies, calm in his defiance. “Not this kind of glory. I’m worth more than the violence of this place. And you are too. That’s why I want you to come with me.”
“You think I’m better than the violence? Please, Mingyu. I could kill you right now. I could kill you, and everyone would thank me.”
“You won’t. You could - you’re capable of it. But you won’t.”
Seokmin rolls his eyes. As much as he would hate to admit it, there’s something thrilling about arguing with Mingyu like this, about reminding Mingyu how little he means to him. The thrum of adrenaline and power that rushes through him with each targeted curl of his
lips is exhilarating, so much so that it doesn’t even matter whether he’s lying or not.
(Later, he’ll realise that he misses the back-and-forth of it all, the simmering warmth that comes from verbally sparring with Mingyu. But right now, he’s letting himself enjoy it.)
“What? You think you're special? We fucked a few times and suddenly you're important to me? We’re on different sides, Mingyu. You can't be important to me.”
“Is that really all this meant to you? Two years of seeing each other, and you didn't even think, didn't even dream that this could be anything else?”
Seokmin pretends not to hear the tremor in Mingyu’s voice. He pushes away all the thoughts he's had in his weaker, more naive moments. He douses the spark that lights in his core at the idea of getting away from it all. He looks past Mingyu rather than at him, and he replies, quite simply,
“No. This was just sex to me.”
He pretends not to hear the tremor in his own voice.
“Seokmin. Come on. It’s more than that, isn't it? I can't be the only one feeling this way.”
“What did you think this was?” Seokmin can't help but ask. A taste of the nectar he’ll never drink.
“I thought this could be something,” Mingyu says, almost like he wants to sound desperate. “I thought maybe you cared about me a little bit more than you cared about your life here. And even if you don't care for me the way I care for you, I thought you’d at least want to get out of here. So why don't you?”
“Look,” Seokmin snaps, looking back at Mingyu as thunder rolls in the distance, “stop trying to make my decisions for me. You can’t just expect me to leave my family and friends and everything I’m familiar with for you.”
“Not for me! For you! For us! There’s so much more out there, and if we could just-”
“Stop, Mingyu. I’m not going anywhere. You don't know me as well as you think you do.”
Seokmin can just about see Mingyu’s jaw clench as the light bulb keeps flickering.
“You're right,” Mingyu replies, stony. “Clearly I don't know you at all. I think I should leave now.”
Seokmin barely remembers to open the window for Mingyu, to let him clamber out through the fire escape. Mingyu knocks down the vase on the windowsill as he goes. He doesn't set it upright. Instead, Seokmin does, as he watches Mingyu's figure descend the fire escape without looking back.
He feels like he's swallowed ice.
***
Seokmin dreams about Mingyu that night. Twice, to be exact.
In the first dream, they're teenagers. It's the sort of dream that could be a memory, but it isn't. They're biking through some woods - Seokmin can't quite figure out where. They must be somewhere that Seokmin went once as a child, a place stored deep in the back of his mind. It doesn't matter. They're racing each other until they find a bit of a clearing. They sit next to each other, ignoring the grass stains on their shorts. They're talking, and the sunlight turns them into figures of gold. The brightness only serves to make Mingyu look even more radiant and happy than Seokmin has ever seen him. When Mingyu playfully shoves at him, it's not with the hunger that Seokmin's used to, but it's with a wave of familiarity, with the knowledge that they couldn't really hurt each other if they tried. All that matters is that they're young, and they wouldn't know violence if it punched them in the face.
In the second dream, they're grown-ups - that is, proper grown-ups with a house and a garden. It's the sort of dream that could be a prophecy, but it isn't. The dream starts with Seokmin waking up, which is an odd way to start a dream, but he knows it's a dream because Mingyu is next to him. His eyes are closed, and he's peaceful. The light that filters through the curtains shows him as he is, bare and open. Seokmin has only seen this in their weaker moments, when Mingyu’s foolish enough to stay until morning and Seokmin is foolish enough to watch him as he sleeps. Mingyu’s sleeping face, haloed by sunlight, is filled with so much more possibility than the Mingyu who pins him down at night.
The dreams are nice, really - one almost-memory and one almost-prophecy. They both end the same way, though. As soon as Seokmin reaches out to Mingyu, the dream shatters and he wakes up before he can touch him.
***
When Seokmin wakes up, Mingyu's gone.
He doesn't find out for a while, of course. He washes up and eats breakfast and gets dressed and doesn't think about Mingyu and heads out into the gloomy day. The clouds lining the sky are thick and grey, looming heavy over Seokmin as he walks. It's like they're pressing down on him, gently at first, testing how much pressure he can take before he collapses. Seokmin tries to ignore the weight of his legs as he walks, heading by instinct to the street corner where Seungcheol and the others usually hang around.
Seungcheol is definitely there. Unfortunately, so is somebody else.
“I’m not going to listen to you lie to me. Where is he?”
Seokmin's blood turns icy. He's heard Wonwoo’s rough low voice enough times to know what it sounds like. Trouble’s in the air, so thick Seokmin can taste it. He rushes over to Seungcheol's side, sending a quick glance to Hansol, who's there with him.
“I’m telling you, I don't know where he is. Why should I? What exactly would I do with him?”
“You could be kidnapping him, as payback for the rumble. You could be doing anything.”
“And why would we take him? He's not exactly important.”
Something prickles in Seokmin's lungs at that. He presses it down.
Wonwoo scowls, turning to face Seokmin. “You. Do you have any idea where he is?”
Seokmin's been involved in this life long enough to know how to act, but for some reason he has to remind himself to look neutral as he replies.
“I don't see what this has to do with me. I’ve barely spoken to him since high school.”
“Really? Not even in rumbles?”
“No. Why? Am I supposed to have a heart-to-heart when I fight someone now? Is that how you do it?”
“Stop being a smartass and answer me. One of you must know where he is. Where else could he have gone?”
Seokmin thinks of last night, of Mingyu wanting to be anywhere that isn't here. A cold breeze snakes up his coat sleeves. For a brief idiotic moment, he wishes he'd joined him.
“Look,” Hansol replies, stepping forward. “you probably shouldn't get ahead of yourself right now. There's three of us and one of you. If you're going to come to our turf accusing us of something, you'd better have either proof or manpower to back you up.”
Wonwoo scoffs, retreating a little. “Alright, fine. But I’ll be back with my guys. And when we meet again, we'll make you talk.”
With that, Wonwoo walks off, leaving Seungcheol to huff and mutter under his breath. Seokmin wishes he could feel something, but he doesn't. His limbs feel deadened, and it's all he can do to mumble his excuses and drag himself back home.
In the distance, thunder rumbles. Seokmin can only pray that Mingyu will find shelter from the storm.
Re: [FILL] Deep in my enemy I find the lover;
Re: [FILL] Deep in my enemy I find the lover;
[through tears] THANKS!!!!!
Re: [FILL] Deep in my enemy I find the lover;
Re: [FILL] Deep in my enemy I find the lover;
Seokmin hates violence. But, in some sick way, violence is all he’s got. but also the Seokmin who dreamt about Mingyu (twice! and them in a happier world!) and prayed for him in the end.
(sighs strenuously) thank you, I shall retreat to my cave to recover from this :')
Re: [FILL] Deep in my enemy I find the lover;
Re: [FILL] Deep in my enemy I find the lover;
Re: [FILL] Deep in my enemy I find the lover;