▩ JONGIN'S HOME

@KIM JONGIN A small discrete smirk tugs on the corner of Krystal’s lips as your words pass through her ears: a shiver crawling down her spine as anticipation rules your words. She leans back against her cold bed backside, her toes stirring slightly in anticipation- lust running through Krystal’s body; pumping through her blood, pumping through her veins. Krystal‘s mouth opened but nothing came out. She wanted to say something but still nothing. She was still caught up in his voice for she had been waiting for the voice to rush through ears for hours. Hours of just endless waiting, endless heart beats and endless ticking. And now he was here. Kim Jongin was here.

They were both very similar in many ways, more closely related than many thought. They both were afraid. Yes, they both disguised in two different characters but after you unravelled every carefully crafted layer, raw emotions and feelings were in the middle, throbbing to get out but trapped by their own discipline. They were both afraid. Of what you may ask? They were both afraid of themselves. They were running away from themselves. And their f***ing served as an escape to which they could be different people, be different characters. Most importantly, they would be distracted- you would be so caught up in desire and lust that there was no room for any reality. And Krystal loved it. F***ing wasn’t just f***ing for her; it wasn’t just something you did when you were bored; it was everything. It served as a button in which Krystal could press and it would take her to Never land: where she didn’t have to grow up, didn’t have to face reality, didn’t have to face the ruins of her disintegrating life. She would never admit it but her life was falling apart and distracted her from all of it. Sure, people called her a , a ; a but Krystal didn’t give a . No one understood her situation anyway and before she could think any more-

his voice came again. This time more husky than before- yes, much huskier but still dripping in the capacity to make Krystal die inside. It could make her shrivel up and make herself hate herself all the more. It reminded her of everything she couldn’t control, it symbolised vulnerability, weakness. All because of his voice: that pompous . She smiled: a small smile pulling the corners as her teeth grazed her bottom lip, her legs spreading apart on the bed and her muscles relaxing. “Of course you did Jongin-ah. Of course you did…” Your name gliding out of seamlessly as her voice enters your ears. Her voice confident and veiled with arrogance but her words husking up towards the end, a hint of sugar sprinkled over them. Jongin spoke again, this time stronger, confident and filled with determination. His words: dominant and strong. Then silence. Just Silence. The sound of Krystal’s breathe hitching as his words dance through her ears and linger in her mind. Her heart beating loudly; it had begun. The throbbing sensation eating away at her hearing while warmth wild fires through her body. “My pleasure daddy,” her words barely audible but they sound flirty, almost desperate and quiet, disappearing into the silence straight after.

Silence surrounds her as her fingers trail over her body while her head leans back slightly pressed against the cold wall behind. Fingers drag along some of her clothes, revealing expanses of pale lightly bruised skin as she in a deep breath; feeling a warm burning across her body. Anticipation engulfing her mind as she slides out of her skirt and before her fingers play with her collar: circling her fingers around her chest. Krystal’s back tenses as she traces her finger along her collar bone- her breath hitching once again before she messily slips off her tank top. She shivers straight after as a small cold breeze hits her bare exposed skin as a minor arch forms in her lower back, her head falling back further as lust becomes more evident in her eyes and mind. Her hands then roaming around her body before it reaches her back and unclasping her bra. Sliding of her bra, she hums softly while another shiver walks up her back as silence swallows up Krystal as her heart beats: waiting for another command to come through the phone as her body lays , desperate and ready.

@JUNG KRYSTAL The nervous pacing around the room resumed and the tantalizing dial tone was agitating his mental state while at the same time calming him. Frankly, this was the longest it'd ever taken before she picked up - or so it felt like it. For the first time ever, it crossed Jongin's mind that perhaps she wouldn't pick up. Had she grown sick of him first? Or did she just have the greater self discipline to cut off this developing disaster? To be completely honest, nine times out of ten when he called in, it was out of pleasure or simply the seeking of another exotic sensation. But tonight, there was a stronger pull, a greater desire. Some would say even an urgency. His body and soul demanded obedience and itched for dominance, not just of anyone, but of her, Krystal Jung, in specific. Furrowing his brows in slight distress, he caught sight of himself in the mirror on his wall and was undeniably shocked at the person he saw. Admittedly, he was a mess tonight, hair ruffled from when he ran through it roughly in frustration earlier, his dark eyes colder, emptier, crueler than usual - perhaps even a little desperate.

He was finally saved from his agony when he heard the promising click of someone picking up on the other side. The pitch and tone of her voice seemed to jolt a rediscovered energy into his previously weary limbs. In fact, his whole being just became more awake, more alive. The fogginess in his pupils seemed to blow away for a moment and his senses were more acute. Processing her comment in his head, a dangerous smirk immediately occupied his lips. He had always been a creature of competition and she was always just that - a competition, a challenge. For some strange reason, he suddenly recalled the image of her from back in their school days. In a way, she was in his eyes, an image of himself. Always flawless in the public eye, unreadable and unalterable. That was precisely why he always made such a fuss to break her. Deep inside he knew how unfair, how cruel it was, but that never stopped him from blindly chasing the victorious ecstasy that was the sounds of her moans, her pleas from more. So yes, she was accurate in guessing that he couldn't stay away. He'd just never admit it to her. "Well then, why are /you/ up so late, hm?" he growled back lowly into the phone. In long strides, he made his way over to the full body mirror in his room, staring down the reflection of his crazed self. Here they were for yet another round, and so it began.

"You know, baby, I missed you," he whispered in that husky voice of his with the charm and lure of the devil, much smoother and gentler than his previous remark. For all he knew, whether she chose to believe him or not was up to her. He'd simply wanted to keep her on her toes and that would require more than straight forward aggression. He paused for a lingering silence, intending to let his words sink deep into her skin. "Everything. Off," he ordered matter-of-factly, the silky character from just seconds ago vanished off to who knows where. His ears honed in for any minuscule sound or word she'd utter while his own slender fingers began to fiddle enticingly with the buttons to his own pressed shirt.

@KIM JONGIN [Wow- your starter’s amazing ]

Never had a winter night’s sky been more serene and calming: the kisses that the wind blew pressed against the windows while the stars shone up above- igniting the sky and looking over you. The stars protected you and cared for you like parents. The stars guarded everyone from darkness; the bare darkness that everyone was afraid of: the loneliness. Instead they guided everyone, lighting up the sky so it was no longer the monstrous chasm of dusk but the monstrous chasm of hope. And you would watch. You would see. You would learn. But sometimes the stars make mistakes too. Some would get engulfed by work, some would get intoxicated by alcohol and some just didn’t care at all. And for Krystal this was the case. The two stars that she adored when she was younger failed to guide her- failed to do their job as a parent. She had never had much connection with the first star, never enjoyed his company and never felt the need to run up and hug him. But the second star was a different story. She was kind, caring and she loved Krystal as much as Krystal loved her. But as the first star got worse and worse, the second star just gave up- she surrendered and retreated back into alcohol. Krystal still loved her though, she was just weak and vulnerable and when the first star abandoned her, Krystal saw the second star’s face- apology and regret distorted her face as she took another sip of her bloody wine. And as she walked away, Krystal promised herself that she wouldn't be like the second star, she wouldn't be like her mum.

Krystal lay on her bed staring at her phone on the bedside table. She longed for the call: longed to hear the voice that gave her the love she desired and needed to keep sane. And so she stared, eyeing it painfully as her little head rested on her palms- darkness eating away at her mind. Unfortunately she couldn’t guide herself away from that one person that she desired so much, the one person that could make her like nothing, the one person who was everything. He was the one person she could trust, the guy who could tame her. And she hated him for that- hated the fact that he took away the independence she had earned, took away all the self discipline that she worked for and left her with nothing. Left her feeling like a small girl again, left her feeling like her mum.

As the clock hand ticked further into the night, her eyes clung on the brink of sleep. Her straight blond locks brushed against her pallid cheeks. Her eyes, heart and soul still painstakingly fixated on the silent phone before her. Her ears dying for that tune that she made her day just that bit better. She bit her lip. It was a way of controlling herself that she had taught herself. It didn’t always work but it was good enough for her. She almost enjoyed it- enjoyed the pain that it-

The phone rang.

Her heart pounded while blood pumped through her veins- the sensation clouding up her mind as desperation (a feeling she had acquainted herself with all too much) bit at her self-discipline. She didn't know what to do with herself- her mind all over the place while her fingers couldn't even hold the phone properly. Krystal sighed at herself- the mess that he made her with just one ring. She hated herself and him for it. And before the anger within her could control her any further, she pressed answer as her carefully crafted mask veiled her face and heart.

“Oh… you again. Couldn’t stay away could you jongin-ah? ”

@JUNG KRYSTAL

It was just one of those days - one of those days where he swore everyone he came across was out to drive him insane, everywhere he went he couldn't find a peace of mind, and everything having to do with regrets of his past and contempt for his current life ran continuously through his head. It wasn't like he wasn't used to having a bad day. Oh, he'd had plenty of those before. But tonight was just one of those nights when the stress and rage was running high and really testing the volatility he'd tamed himself to conceal over the past few years. He was no high school or college student anymore when it didn't matter how wild he was allowed to be. His state right now was the state that was perhaps his natural state, but the state that none of the public ever got to see. Hardly anyone from work or his social life would ever come close to even getting a hint of how broken and reckless Kim Jongin could actually be. Oh no, most people only ever got to see the side of him that he so carefully crafted to be free of flaws and vulnerabilities, despite what was truly brewing just under the surface of his perfect facade.

Tonight, he'd already patronized his usual bar, the scent of expensive alcohol so lightly lacing his breath. He had always had exceptionally high tolerance but tonight he'd had just enough to put him where his sense morality would be obscured. Now he sat at the edge of his bed, the click of the clock seemingly growing louder with each passing second. He was starting to regret not having brought home one of those women at the bar who kept sending him lucrative looks. Hell no, none of them were even close to his type, but doing anything but letting his nightmares consume him alive would suffice right about now. He winced a bit, not from physical pain but from the flashes of that one fateful night's accident that were beginning to pay him an uninvited visit. Aggressively running his fingers through his hair with one hand, he gave a violent tug to loosen his tie with the other. Momentarily, he rose without sound from the bedside and slid off his jacket, throwing that aside as well before loosening the cuffs on his gleaming white dress shirt that fit his lean, muscular figure all too well. In all honesty, it was probably just him but his bedroom seemed to have risen in temperature significantly in the past few minutes.

He fished for his phone now, taking note of the passing time. If he wanted /her/ tonight, he'd have to have her soon. There had been quite a few occasions like tonight in the past few months, ever since he'd "found" her again. Krystal Jung. He muttered her name lowly under his breath as he worked his way all the way to the dial screen now. This relationship that had formed, he admitted that it was so very wrong. Yet with each successive time, it was becoming easier and more natural to make the phone call, to cross the point of no return without ever looking back. He began to pace around his room a bit with slow, looming steps, his head busy in conflict with his desires. Abruptly he stopped. "Oh, this..." he growled before finally hitting the dial button. What was done was done. His brows furrowed a bit as he wondered whether or not she was even awake at this hour. And if she was, would she return his calls yet again?