ㅤᴅᴏᴏʀ ⋮ B12

⎡ ᴊᴜɴɢ ʏᴇɪɴ's sᴄᴀᴠᴇɴɢᴇʀ ʜᴜɴᴛ ғᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘ.ɪ. | ᴍᴏᴠᴇᴍᴇɴᴛ 1/10, "sᴏɴᴀᴛᴀ." ⎦— room b12

withered scraps of dismay are jubilant in their vile existence. despite the soul-crushing agony, they are filled with fervid desire to live and are thereupon allowed the divine prospect of being nurtured in a bitter world where empyrean petals alike are forgotten in their hazy trance. the saccharine nectar of life entrances hungry lips in a feverish calling toward the skies, and that festering ambrosia seeps past plush, honeyed tiers—intoxicating meanderings. vexation smolders the senses and i overlook my own identity. even still, i deliver to you—a shard of myself.

congratulations! that wasn’t too hard, now was it? i sure bet you love the musical terminology as well—movement one, sonata, etc.

to proceed, head on over to: where rose quartz and gold chains once bespeckled the ground.

+ the letter is handwritten and taped against the door to the room, a stem of lavandula, “lavender,” taped to the backside.

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@❛ youngho seo。 the voice that had been all too clear and interweaved with depravity while toying with emotions mere moments earlier forfeits into a chain of ragged breaths, incoherent mumbles paired with daring chortles leaving swollen lips crying to be dominated. unfathomably, the stifling heat of bodies so sickly sweet together has the restrained girl nearly begging for acts of ardor and zeal, though she dares not further entertain the sick male alluring her all the more - she wouldn't give in to this teasing game nor let the private eye know just how much she truly enjoyed being in this submissive state with nothing to hide, relishing in wicked words that instilled desire within like the unrefined masochist she truly is.

"you're a sick sadist," comes forth in a quiet response, yein's lips nearly trembling with desired fervor that seemed to burn a hole through her chest at those saccharine lips so close, yet so far - no. she can't let him know just how sickly sweet she's feeling, oh so inebriated and yet she can't do a single damn thing. the cuffs around her wrists seem to close in on her all the more and remind her of the oppression she seemed to revel in. with a will remaining well-fortified, the poor girl's walls of defense come crashing down once again at that seizing, electrifying touch reminding her very well of the situation she was in. discomfort flashes across her nebulous features as a result of trying to restrain a look of enjoyment, and a gleeful pant leaves the gaps of shivering lips she could only bite down on, unwilling to admit how she very much hungered for that vehement touch. "y-you ing sadist... do you enjoy seeing me like this?" lithe fingers are curled around the bed posts near her head, a pale countenance illuminated with abhorrence, though sinful gasps of breath and lifting hips that nearly disobey the girl's commands tell a different tale of refined pleasure. she's trying to convince herself this is nothing, albeit her bare body feels numb and devoid of life and passion when robbed of that tender touch of sensual fingers. and before she knows it, the sensitive part of her body is met with ice, cold sensations that cause her to wince and struggle against the handcuffs holding her back. a sharp inhale, nearly a hiss, is taken from past needy lips, stomach drawn in at the agonizing glacial cube she hoped would not travel further across the expanse of her body. "you're funny if you think i'll give you the reactions you want. you won't make me do a thing," she manages to scoff behind clenched teeth, flashing the male with dark tendrils a look of pure repulsiveness.

@❛ yein jung。 seething with hatred at how the girl so easily she took to being left at his mercy, each and every word taunting him and driving the poor drunkard to near insanity. despite all her desperate whines at his contact, body writhing and squirming with neediness beneath every tender caress, there was still this yearning for more which suffocates him to the point of a near boiling rage. he wished to cause her more suffering, more inescapable wanting for whatever sick sweet release she may have had in mind. “god, you are so pathetic.” the male practically spits in disgust, clutching onto his own feelings of severe animosity to save himself from the tempting charms jung yein so masterfully lures with. just as she nods in approval, prurient noises echoing against the four walls around them hidden by pitch black shadows, youngho gives exactly what he knows she needs; or at least a hint of that all–consuming, utterly intoxicating desire to be touched. after some time allowing his fingertips to carefully linger against the silky lace material protecting that one last shred of innocence she had to offer. sure as hell he would take it without remorse or shame. as far as he was concerned, that poor wretched girl was now just a pretty toy doll to be played with.

“what makes you think you deserve it?” hushed whispers inquire while their rosy lips are brought so close together, merely bestowing another sultry sweet kiss yet remains at just the perfect distance away to tease. slim digits begin to tug at either end of her hips and pull along with them the very same thin layer of fabric which had been under such scrutiny for so agonizingly long. now every inch is exposed and leaves nothing to the imagination as the tumultuous expression upon youngho’s countenance softens slowly to that of lustful admiration. “tell me why i should do anything for you, my pretty pet, when all you do is hurt me?” the inquiry rings out amidst stuffy suffocating air while tenderly kneading tight circles against her sensitive bare bud, gradually increasing the pressure until it became oppressive in it’s pleasure. however that skilled touch soon yanks away and the towering lover mutters, “don’t move,” as if the girl possibly could while still restrained to the bed.

sly snickers echo from where he then collects a tray of ice cubes out of the freezer in the kitchen, soon returning with them as well as a half–full glass of his usual cheap whiskey. one long guzzle later does he take his seat at the edge of the mattress and drops a few cubes into the drink. clinking sounds against the glass further entice a new idea; then he takes ahold of another frozen cube between slender digits, places it just above the poor squirming prisoner’s navel, letting it linger as an icy hot sting melts against the warmth of her skin. “you say i’m lethal.. i’m not. if anything, i want you to live. and suffer. and feel every ounce of whatever the i wish you to. do i make myself clear?”

@❛ youngho seo。 “gagged? i—“ that was about the last thing she was expecting to hear from the daring tenant, even in this dangerous situation she found herself in. “you are one lethal man, aren’t you, seo youngho?” she clicks her tongue against her teeth for a brief moment before she is left in awe peering up at the male before her, face barely visible in the midnight cloak of the room, his messy tendrils all the same color of obsidian. she could barely contain herself, heart about to lurch out of her chest and just splat down on the floor in a vicious mess. truthfully, she had never been touched by another person before. the simple sensation of the male undoing her pants already winds up a heated feeling in her gut, as if she was feeling unwell, nervous. she’s breathless, thoughtless, as her bare legs lay against the plush mattress, and the insecurities and embarrassment searing her brain causes her to press those pale limbs together, as if she’d be able to hide from her capturer’s all-seeing eye. his icy cold fingers against her sultry skin is just about enough to make her shiver under the touch, and yein is ashamed that even just the tiniest thing can stir up such a large reaction from within her. just mere minutes ago, she was ready to play some mind games. never did she think she would have ended up in this situation, being dominated, having given in to lustful desires that seemed to swallow her whole.

“please, don’t stop.” she can barely believe the naughty words escaping her own precious mouth. having omitted that small response, she continues to do the one thing had wanted least - making shameful, sinful noises. she knows the apartment walls are thin, but having never been touched so intimately, every single skin-to-skin contact was driving her toward pure insanity in a blissful mix of heaven and hell she found she couldn’t escape from. she had never been fondled, and she had never been curious enough to do the deed herself - it was as if all her firsts were being taken, though she had no single complaint toward where things seemed to be going. there’s a hazy thought of slight concern muddled in yein’s gut, figuring that, if worse came to worse, practically, she would not be able to ease her way out of the situation due to being restrained. but her one burning question was - did she want it to stop? would she want it to stop at any given time? with the way her frigid heart began pulsing ever so fervently in the depths of her chest and the way her breath became ragged from mere fantasies (that seemed to be becoming a reality) of the male before her, she figured she would not be able to stray from only continuing on through the night. delicate hues of pink dust her cheeks though she is sure they are masked over by the darkness of the room which perhaps worked in her favor. would this game be worse had her shy demeanor been much more obvious? she could only ponder the thought for a short moment before realizing how close the male’s hands were snaking toward her navel, those lithe fingers threatening to slide off the one piece of fabric hiding all she had left to reveal. the way those fingers trail down the expanse of her torso already has the small of her back arching a tad bit off the bed as she tries her utmost best to hold back a small whine or sigh buried in the back of . it pained and shamed her to realize that gosh—she was already gushing despite having engaged in minimal activity. her lust glazed over all capabilities and comprehension skills - a breathy sigh escapes those luscious, parted lips as she gives youngho a slight nod of the head, as if beckoning him to continue and reveal the entirety of her feminine figure were he to listen to those desires and follow what she wanted at all. she didn’t want to stop—she couldn’t /possibly/ stop now; the girl swore she’d quite possibly lose her mind and soul if not given what she greedily and shamelessly desired.

@❛ yein jung。 “you talk a lot. care to be gagged, too?” although the manner in which coy chuckles spring out seem innocent and a jubilant smile spreads across pale features that eerily pop out even when hidden by the aphotic dusky shadows of midnight ink which flood the room, seo youngho’s intentions for his precious prisoner are anything but. at such a leisurely pace does the towering incubus slip into bed and settles comfortably at yein’s side. lethal gaze still so well hidden in the darkness feeds upon the helpless display set before him, every curve and smooth expanse of her body begging to be claimed. in fact it is the denim jeans which hug tightly at her lower half that brings so much attention to what must lie beneath. they beckon an impulse deep within, the male readily popping open a button and slowly fidgeting with the zipper until no effort at all has to be exhausted for him to peel the article of clothing right off past her ankles. now milky white skin is revealed like a prize being presented for all to gawk at– except only those dark chocolate irises of his are allowed to feast upon the sight. a palm smooths over delicate thighs so lightly that the touch tickles, sending all sorts of tingling sensations to course throughout.

distant voices of reason plead desperately for him to give up this risky charade. turn his back on lustful desires, free the girl of the restraints she writhes in, and forget this entire disastrous night ever happened. but he doesn’t want to. no, he absolutely refuses to listen to his better inner judgments, rather allowing more gentle touches continue their journey searching the farthest depths of yein’s physique. “if you want me to stop, say the word.” a low tone warns against the lobe of ear all while he slips his hand just beneath her blouse, caressing at the supple teardrops of her chest with caution not to fondle too aggressively. after all, he didn’t wish to hurt her– not actually. seductive torture would suffice plenty. before giving yein a chance to answer or even think straight for a mere millisecond that tormenting honeyed touch brushed down along her abdomen and reaches further south. dexterous digits begin fiddling with the hem of the lace that covers her sensitive forbidden core, the back of his hand grazing against inner thighs. there’s simply no chance he of stopping anytime soon.. unless yein dared to deny them both what they knew was so hungered for.

@❛ youngho seo。 to seize and to be seized. god, when it came to the man before her, yein seemed to want it all, and she wasn’t being modest one bit about it. that craving to play with others as well as to be played with - it began to take over her thinking capabilities and her functionality, only focusing on the pot of gold before her, that treasure of gold and worlds of pain and pleasure marked unexplored on her map for her to seize, dominate, and claim her territory. at least that’s what she had thought when she first waltzed into this room, hoping she’d play the fallen actress, the victim, and continue being her usual self that always seemed to break others apart, as if humans were toys to be played around with and torn apart. so why was it that she found herself sinking in this scenario? it was as if youngho knew how to press all her right buttons and rile her up in ways that made her feel inexplicable, sultry things that made her thirst for desires no like other. and god, those sinful hips just beneath hers simply begging for friction. she wouldn’t be able to hold back at this rate, brain commanding the girl to not give in to those desires, though she found it to be too late. it just felt so wrong, yet so right - a sacrilegious act in itself that she wouldn’t mind becoming a sinner for as she loses herself in their waltz of fiery dominance, ravishing wet caverns with entangled tongues - an exhilarating exploration like never before.

yein’s fantasies only seem to strengthen when she finds herself being carried back to that alluring mattress, almost daring her to go further, taint its sheets with who knows what. she wanted to be tainted too, to be stained pitch-black inside out, have blazing bits of candle wax dripped on her porcelain skin, wrecking her like one would never dare. was she too intoxicated to realize she was being handcuffed, or had she been yearning it so much she had become blind to the guilty pleasure? the stainless steel is cold against her wrists, and she had yet to realize how restricted her movement became, though she seemed to fantasize the idea at any given moment in time. she looks up at the male before her from her spot on the bed with irises hazy from lust and all sorts of yearning she could barely name off the top of her head. all she could think of was /him/, seo youngho. and that sight she could have never fathomed would occur before her - of his bare skin being revealed so easily; she wanted to feel that silky skin beneath her digits, feel it across the expanse of her own wishful body, take it into and leave markings to be seen in daylight. oh, she did not dare struggle one bit in being restrained, captivated all the while as if she had been asking for it. foggy yearnings flood her mind though she dares not voice those sinful desires, as if the she who had been handcuffed, still dared not to back down from this fight she was clearly already submitting to. “handcuffing me, hm? it’s not as if i don’t like it, but wow.” truthfully, she’s still breathless by that kiss that had overwhelmed her, and the sight of youngho’s eyes that she can only imagine are unclothing her in his mind, she can barely contain the pulsing she feels in her lower half, despite upholding a composed stature as best as she can manage - perhaps that act is nearly all gone at this point and it’s crystal clear to see that she is a hectic mess begging for the unsaid.

@❛ yein jung。 yein wasn’t the only one making things far more difficult than necessary. youngho could simply tell her to leave. kick her out, delete her number, never bother to even acknowledge her existence if they ever crossed paths someplace such as the lounge. it was that easy. so why did it feel /this/ damn difficult to just.. let her go? indeed there seemed to be a bottomless black hole engulfing the space around them. not just in this murky room, but anywhere the two were caught together. the insatiable crave for more which baited him, gradually lured him in, then would consume him whole. mind, body, and soul. every part of the male seemed to belong to her, free for her to toy with however she pleased. and he despised her for it. only one particular situation could ever top this in regards to how paralyzed and helpless he felt.

no more. for once in an entire pathetic lifetime, youngho wanted to seize even a minute sense of control over his life rather than allowing himself to be taken advantage. as lips drip with sloppy passionate zeal against one another in their dance of lust, oh so eagerly does that same tongue like velvet slither past to meet with the girl’s own and crusades for dominance. all the while gripping tight at either hip to securely hold his succubus of a partner in place so that he may flex the muscles from beneath to grind along her clothed sensitive core. heat begins to build within the pit of his stomach from pulverizing friction until he can no longer take such anesthetic seduction and, with all the strength possibly mustered, carries yein to return to her undeserved place upon the bed.

nearly losing balance, the intoxicated resident fumbles through his nightstand to retrieve none other than a pair of stainless steel cuffs that dangle and clink together as he struggles in drunken stupor to pin the girl down. within the blink of an eye a cuff locks around her wrist then links the short chain between the poles of his bedpost, successfully cuffing both hands high above her head. he releases a relieved sigh, sultry eyes gawking at what a magnificent display is now sprawled over his sheets. “don’t struggle.” a stern slurred voice further demands before he starts to free himself from the confinement of fabrics all over his body, stripping down to bare nothings with the mere exception of boxers that hug low around his hips. what plans were in the making for the poor prisoner locked away and hidden from the world at apartment 202? the question lingers in his thoughts as he ponders all sorts of delectable punishment. “hm.. what to do with you?”

@❛ youngho seo。 yein had realized long ago that she was only making this situation more difficult for herself. like a chinese finger trap, the more she struggled, the more intertwined she found herself in the odd string of events. it was as if imaginary strings encapsulated her lithe body in a sort of play; it bound her limbs, her voice box, blinded her, all the while whispering sweet nothings in her ears. it asphyxiated her really, stoking the flames as she gazed upon the ravaged scenarios, a chill in her spine as she awaits the of dismay. how she wanted to see that boy break, collect the splintered parts of his mind and hold them close - grotesque thoughts concerning further manipulation envelope her thought process and every fiber of her being. those enticing thoughts lay at the tip of her tongue, and she realized she could be considered as none other but a sweet devil. ah, giuseppe tartini’s “devil’s trill sonata” with those mellow strings - an appealing tune from the devil himself, so enthralling that even at the gates of hell, yein could not help but offer up every inch of her being toward this mesmerizing sin.

those daring words made her chest pang, as if she had physically been wounded, stabbed - how she wanted so badly to give in to murky desires that threatened to sink her, pull her further in as if quicksand cocooned her entire existence. how she wanted so badly to ravish that wet, hot cavern with her own lips and tongue; she wouldn’t mind one bit just being completely engulfed into that black hole of elation. quite literally like a black hole itself, yein did feel like the high tension surrounding the room threatened to stretch her apart, and quite frankly, she didn’t mind one bit were that to occur. in fact, she gave in - gave in to that perilous desire. a hand reaches back to tuck messy strands of her obsidian hair behind her ear as to better engage in this sickeningly sweet, close combat. that sweet, wet muscle of the latter’s that dared to further entice her, and that breath that reeked of vodka she yearned to feel across every inch of her canvas of a porcelain body. “i think /you’re/ what i get off on.” it comes out sugary sweet as usual, a low murmur with undertones of desires she can barely seem to hold back under the clothed expanse of her body. and she’s sinking, giving in, forfeiting to this endless chase as her lips greedily meet those mere millimeters away from hers. her eyes flutter shut and god, she swears she can barely breathe nor comprehend things correctly due to just how deep she found herself, how intoxicated she found herself becoming under those rose tiers that seemed to perfectly interlock and mesh against hers.

@❛ yein jung。 so much emotional turmoil built up within one evening.. far /too much/ to bear even a second longer. they could always return to those touchy subjects at a later time despite the high probability of getting absolutely nowhere; what with plethoras of snarky remarks, taunts, and bewitching distractions already used as weapons against the investigator’s near pleading inquiries. all of which increase inner frustrations made so evident by furious contorted grimaces and restless fidgeting. although his bloodied rose of a companion may have won the battle, there still is a war yet to be fought. what a damn shame that this unlikely pair couldn’t have remained in their perfect amicability he’d grown fond of at a personal level. current unfortunate circumstances sure as hell hurt like a blade plunging through the man’s chest and rips a sensitive heart.

god, she pisses him off beyond belief. how he hungers to unleash the full extent of wrath pent up inside, forcing yein to feel the same vehement pain and esthesia of helplessness she subjects him to just for kicks. “so this is what gets you off, hm?” youngho retorts as she approaches, cinmerian gaze eyeing her every move like a hawk on the hunt. from the very moment her body’s light weight anchors upon his lap does a wicked sense of comfort overwhelm. the male emits low grumbles as the tips of their noses nuzzle against each other, reaching a hand to the small of her back so that he may press themselves flush close together.

conflicted between amply contrasting passions both embitter and excite, practically writhing his hips with sudden requisite for friction. “don’t make me say it again, yein.” the warning garbles in inebriated slurs and nearly hiccups although he ignores the blatantly obvious state to which that jumbled brain of his can barely function nor process a rational thought. perhaps there had been no ulterior motive, no underhanded agenda. just a beautifully sick girl who will drive him to near insanity if he doesn’t get a fix of her saccharine taste right then and there. further the resident teases, the edge of his vodka–drenched tongue slipping past a mouth agape to smoothly stream along the plush rosy flesh of her lower lip and indeed giving a few tender love nips upon it’s now slippery surface.

@❛ youngho seo。 her vision is blurred, stained with those impurities like tears on those cheekbones of hers, a flourished rose that daintily asks to further be tainted - to pluck each viscous petal and detain the core. she was all but the very lilly, daisy, or white rose that stood as the epitome of innocence and purity. those sharp, hateful words that frostily nipped at her skin like a taste of frostbite, don’t come off as a surprise - it’d have been much more of a surprise had she not been expecting that string of all too spiteful yet alluring words to roll off his tongue in such a simplistic effort, as if youngho had not had to struggle in firmly placing his thoughts down, as if he knew what to say off the bat. were things only a joke to her? like an an enchanting, yet all the more hazardous, game of russian roulette, she couldn’t help but to indulge herself no matter the consequences, no matter how high the stakes. “i can’t help it when you entertain me so much.” cold and heartless words leave and she can’t help but brood over the thought that perhaps this sort of mindset is exactly why youngho and others called her a psychopath; that lack of empathy made up who she was as she acted upon things for her own benefit and enjoyment.

her hazy mind encounters the little “good” moments they had where her having been called “psychopath” could have been considered a good thing. such an intriguing act that even some of their fellow friends and tenants had believed them to be working things out romantically - the mere fantasy of yein working out so perfectly with someone, platonically or romantically, could only make her scoff at the scenario that seemed far too positive for her to believe some had actually experienced such a blissful state of euphoria. ties and connections... just what are they to this empty shell of a girl?

it was as if something inside her had awakened - an epiphany sparks and shakes her very core as she removes herself from the male’s mattress and daringly saunters over to his current position. how could she not, with that request - more like a demand - leaving those lips she had eyed from the very beginning? it fueled her, set her ablaze, and she swore she wouldn’t mind one bit were her body to be drenched in gasoline and set fire to in representing that fiery passion. the depths of her mind are for once, in sync with her actions. they step in sync under an ecstatic glare of a moonlight to the euphoric 1-2-3 of a waltz - the timbre of a string quintet lights up the embers of her fragile heart as she delicately sits atop that lap that only seems to invites her. yes, she dares to do so, her arms coiling around her love-hate partner’s neck as the space between their bodies lessen. “kiss you?” despite how much yein craves it, she can’t help but question the sudden motive as she rests her forehead against the male’s, tiers teasing to indulge and interlock with those lips that further enchanted her beyond intoxication.

@❛ yein jung。 “is everything a ing joke to you?” youngho snidely barks, finding himself again frozen in time without any choice but to sip on the raging headache dripping out of each and every word she spews. how easy it is for the stupefying creature smirking before him to change personas like the flip of a switch– one moment an innocent angel with so much to give, the next a devil seething with sin and greed. although safely sitting just feet apart she still manages to the life force from him. a toxic vampire. that’s what she was.. and there was no helping the inescapable allure of it all. within either palm she holds everything he could ever desire then dangles it tauntingly just to torture him and for what? for the fun of it? a thought crosses his mind whilst glaring directly at that tantalizing smirk inducing such a crave to wipe it right off her pretty delicate face.

“you know, it started as a stupid nickname. i didn’t really imagine just how right i was.” he begins mumbling, still intoxicated by bucket loads of bittersweet liquor mixed and blended so well with whatever enchanting poison that seemed to linger on luscious lips. just a side effect of their previous close encounters. neither crippling animosity nor lust wither away, both passions only working to fuel head on towards a destructive path which youngho could only tremor in it’s wake. the porcelain doll who taunts from the edge of the bed, the family who haunts him from the very day they vanished, the guilt and responsibility weighing so damn heavy on his shoulders each day that passes by. it was all piling up into one big excruciating joke. perhaps she was right to laugh. “i hate you with every fibre of my being. you disgust me, you absolute ing psychopath.”

those words of feverish confession ring out in truth, the sudden realization washing over as his visage darkens from beneath feathery locks that cascade just over eyes now as black as midnight ink skies. yein could have the answers to everything yet clearly has no intentions of disclosing said information. if she won’t give the most important, most sought after release of them all then she could at the very least be useful in other ways. a hooded beguiling stare remains locked upon the frail tenant as he gives her a calculating glance, gliding the edge of his tongue just along the dry swollen surface of roseate tiers. frozen heat that stings like winter ice melting against skin radiates so strong within the dusk murkiness of the bedroom. “kiss me.” the sleuth commands in stark authority. caring not for whatever consequences they might have to face amongst the aftermath, he lightly pats a palm against his own denim–covered thigh, beckoning the now sworn enemy to dare inch close enough and engage in a twisted embrace.

@❛ youngho seo。 it lingers on the tip of her tongue, a sugar sweet speck that glitters her oblivion of an existence. her desires and knowledge meld into one insatiable clump of polished dirt as she tenderly caresses the scars over her heart. a sort of existential crisis lay at the tip of her tongue as a sort of bane, as well as her foolish hunger to continue acting and teasing, continue being someone rather than herself. ah, the aeon arcana in a standard deck of tarot cards - it held the salvation she needed, the uncovering of lies and a web of deception that came from none but herself. before the pair lay the tower, a depiction of unfortunate conflicts and events that crumbled the relationship yein still wished to salvage, the broken shards like glass beneath her heels that threatened to puncture the skin there, the warm crimson fluid of life seeping forward.

the truth, huh? what kind of truth lay behind a set of hazy and unknown desires between the two? a part of yein had wished to be rough handled further, have her raven locks disheveled as her face is stuffed into those satin pillows, forcing her into a state of near-asphyxiation. the mere idea aroused her, though she found herself free and unbound, willing her weak and lithe body to properly sit up atop the bed, legs hanging over the edge of the mattress. “what if i don’t want to tell the truth?” her reply has a tone of cockiness to it, as if she was just asking to be completely pummeled and destroyed in every way possible. distorted emotions and morals flood her heart and she can only chuckle in amusement at the very situation she eased her way into, those tiers of hers curving into that same, devilish smile that seemed to speak more than a thousand words. “the only truth i can tell you is that today is indeed the tenth anniversary of your father and sister’s disappearance, is it not?” it was as if she took joy in it. in getting herself in trouble, in worsening the situation, in causing more misunderstandings in events she had not even been a part of. her desire for this single, stable relationship clashed against her sort of questionable lust for topics all beyond the simple taste of skin and blood.

@❛ yein jung。 what might have been a series of games to yein is all too serious for youngho– a matter of life or death in every sense of the phrase imaginable. the very foundations from which his grievous life was held afloat came crumbling to dust and ashes all within one evening. how frightening the thought that yet another beam of light shining down upon the pits of darkness– a loved one gifting scarce faith albeit ridden by doubt– now was all but snuffed to desolate oblivion by one single sentence. euphoria came so close yet whisked so far away in such state of despair, an unlikely duo coveting for the lecherous kiss that never would be. all thanks to a decade old mystery and the one young sphinx of a girl who supposedly held captive answers to which youngho spent an entire boundless lifetime seeking out.

“whatever i want,” he responds in subtle slurs as the once sharp furious tone morphs to mockingly coo, voice subtle and soft like that if he were whispering a merciful lullaby. austere expressions tell another compromising tale. black brows furrow, lidded eyes narrowing icy cold glares as the lean male towers above at the edge of the bed. tensions repeat manic cycles which tear down emotional walls just to build them right back up again– quite a useful aspect. luckily yein is not the only master manipulator. perhaps she has met her match. a broken soul more than prepared to do whatever it takes to uncover desperately needed resolutions.

shivering sensations are sent crawling onto her skin as youngho eases his grapple of satiny locks, instead opting for a tender touch that ripples across ashen caramelized skin. razor sharp incisors then sink deep into the flesh of his own plump tier, reopening old chapped wounds while the very tips of slender digits rub to outline that rich pout that all but tempts carnal desires. before he can allow himself to further be enthralled by poor little jung yein’s wiles does he rip away and shuffles across carpeted flooring. the exhausted drunkard slumps into a tuft cushiony reading chair opposite of the girl’s place upon his bed, long legs sprawled out lazily as a hand rests on his lap. “i want the truth, yein. tell me everything you know. now.” although his voice haggardly husky, the demand remains absolute crystal clear.

@❛ youngho seo。 ah yes, the tragic victim of the show - the only role she had ever wanted to play under the spotlight, despite having had little to no sympathy toward toying with emotions as if they were feeble things to be belittled. that's what she could only think of them as - pain in the sensors that constantly made her feel like . were tears to spill forth from her eyes, she'd probably mentally call herself weak and degrade herself for being so vulnerable under that facade of an energetic, talkative, yet somehow chaotic woman. in the depths of her mind lurked the idea of just how far one could bring their act, just to what extent she could play someone who isn't her. were this a stageplay, she could brush off that sinking feeling in her gut and continue with the script, maybe something from wilde's salomé; the tragic finale in which salomé holds the head of her beloved and continues with, "thou wouldst not suffer me to kiss thy mouth, iokanaan...thine eyes that were so terrible, so full of rage and scorn, are shut now." those enticing lips that with such silent ferocity, she swore she'd quite possibly lose her mind at all the mixed signals she was receiving, fueling off the situation like a sort of toxin despite having only consumed a minuscule sip of alcohol at the picnic event just hours before. those delicious tiers, that breath that tickled her pale face, and that all-too gentle touch - god, she was beginning to ache in ways extending beyond heartache.

that world of bewildered lust and so-called friendship comes crashing down like a glass chandelier on the ground - the impact it has on the girl makes it seem plausible enough to think that an event had actually occurred, with her uneven breathing, her face twitching out of befuddlement. selfishness was the only thing she could feel in the room that seemed to drop in temperature amidst their confrontation, only seeming to care about herself despite craving the relationships and affection she never properly received during her teenage years. if ties and connections didn't work out the way she wanted right away, she always opted out, constantly distancing herself until she became a sort of empty shell. an empty shell for her inner actress to use as a pawn.

her glass world that is bound around her naiveté personality becomes foreign to the differences between fiction and non-fiction, and the remnants of this out-of-bounds dimension becomes littered with the girl's tears and lack of understanding for her own identity and morals as she finds herself being drawn around the male's finger in a sort of game she thought herself to be dominating all along. what was it that she yearned for? his fingers in her hair, the very act of being tugged and thrown around so roughly like the pathetic emotions in her own heart - oh, she could barely fathom the situation nor catch her breath. in such an uncomfortable position despite finding herself on the plush mattress, her fingers find themselves curling against the latter's grip in a weak attempt to free herself from the grasp threatening to become all-the-more excruciating. "what do you think you're doing to me, youngho?" again, that convincing actress threatens to take over her personality once more like a parasite, with her near tear-stricken face, pink lips that curled into a stiff pout, and a whine in the back of - she couldn't believe she could be forced into being so submissive.

[] it be like that tho

[] "yet"

[] chill lmao he ain’t done nothin yet

[] MY EYES MY EYES

[] NAEUN GET OUT OMG

[] OH JOHNNY WHAT'RE U DOING TO HER OH MY GOD

@❛ yein jung。 what an excellent little starlet she was. even now in their shared state of vulnerability, tears so obviously threatening to roll down rosy cherubic cheeks at the fact her jig was up, somehow yein manages still the near impossible feat of yanking at inner heartstrings with an unfathomable tenacity. she plays the victim so damn well that youngho, quite possibly the most skeptic man of all, not only fell for it before yet continues to hold out hope that perhaps it were true.

as desperate words trip over themselves in the girl’s sad attempts to rehabilitate such a dilemma, the private eye leans inch by inch until their lips gently brush against one another. bitter tastes of vodka persists alongside humid breaths that tickle down towards the sharpest edge of her jawline. whilst one hand refuses to release it’s impassioned grasp over her waist the other softens, trailing up the clothed expanse of her body til it can cup a cheek. only by impulse does a thumb caress warm skin perhaps to assuage whatever heartache she felt.

silence echoes throughout the apartment, ringing in his ears louder than any scream ever could. she finally admitted to it. why couldn’t she have just lied? or at least left that god damn apartment 202 so he could try to forget all those terrible suspicions, the grief that came with knowledge now that someone he adored– even if for a brief moment in time– was lying? although there should have been a sense of joy and excitement that he is getting closer to the truth, all he can honestly feel is.. hurt. a ceaseless torment which only feeds upon his worst fears.

soon that apprehension takes over control and snaps the man out of drunken paralysis as he twirls yein’s petite frame around so that she may be guided further inside the apartment. clutching a handful of those gorgeous silky locks atop her head which housed all sorts of secrets does he tug near the nape of her neck, aggressively maneuvering their bodies past narrow corridors until at once stumbling in the bedroom. the friend–turned–foe then is plunged unto his mattress as he snarls, “get comfortable. you’re not going anywhere tonight.”

@❛ youngho seo。 the glimpse in his eyes matched the darkness of the room all too well, with the usual curtains draping the many windows - yein had not even bothered turning on a single light yet with all her attention on the male before her. even if she had been acting her whole life and wore a facade at all times, she found that she couldn’t be the perfect actress this time. that barrier came crumbling down and, for once, the female had no idea what the “right” thing was to say, evident in her orbs that shook, dilated, and threatened to brim with tears at any moment. she had never been one for confrontation, and her entire life had been some tragedy of trying to keep friends close, always falling the task at hand. she didn’t want to let this one go - she couldn’t, even if it meant damaging him even more or coming out with the truth she wasn’t even sure he desired.

her hazel irises met the male’s for a moment, and to see that kind of heartache and feeling of being lost so evident, so transparent in his eyes, she could only wish for such guilt to crush her soul. to take that pain from him - it was all she wanted to do. after all, she knew that same exact soul-crushing and heartbreaking feeling all too well of losing those around her, including family and friends. just the mere recollection of her own past history made her insides tense up, a bitter taste in that caused her to chew at her trembling lips, stomach churning as if she’d feel unwell. “i know how feel but you- “ she can’t find the words for god’s ing sake. she removes a hand from the latter’s shoulder and rubs at her face for a moment, trying to hide that look of raw emotion that takes over the features of her pale visage; it contorts into a look of worry, agony, and near-insanity. “you haven’t even done anything wrong so i don’t understand why officer shim is out for you. you already know that i...” her voice trails off for her the second time and there’s a pang in her chest that nearly feels like a physical blow that could knock the wind out of her and wipe her off her two legs. it would be bad, real bad, if she couldn’t find anything to say in this situation that seemed to implode on itself with every passing second.

it hurt. it made her writhe in her spot under the male’s tight hold on her waist. anxiety seemed to crawl under every inch of her skin like maggots, and she found her breath more and more ragged as her agape mouth tried to voice out the very words she was terrified of giving, the very words she had not yet told anyone, not even the officer who had deemed her the most innocent tenant. “you already know that i was a suspect for my parents’ murder case four years ago, don’t you? all those endless acts of friendship were just an act so you could stalk me and confirm your suspicions, right? nothing more, nothing less. we could have never become ‘normal’ friends had we even desired it.” her heart swelled with despair, anger even, and her tiny hands balled up into fists as she tightly clutched the lapels of the latter’s coat, trembling in her spot with, for once, what appeared to be a look of fear in her eyes. “that’s what you wanted to hear, no? even id you already know it all - that i’m not the innocent girl i pretend to be all the time, that i was involved in way more than one can question, that i- “ part of her wants to embrace the man before her and press her lips on his own, even if he was semi-drunk, but her own desires come crashing down beneath the weight of her own slip-up. “i know of your father and sister’s disappearance ten years ago, seo youngho.”

@❛ yein jung。 indeed it did make him despise her more. after everything that had been piling up that night– threats, old emotional wounds, and too much alcohol– youngho simply had to get away from it all. yet even in the haven of his apartment the bad refused to let him go and kept on haunting him in the form of a dainty whimsical girl who was oh so excellent at wrapping people tight around her finger. at least that’s how it appeared to the man towering above her from his spot against the doorframe, the tumultuous glower on his dark features pierces through the depths of her pleading doe eyes.

“i don’t care,” a hot breath whispers with raspy tones, clearly holding back so much rage bottled up inside. like the slithering of a snake his hands wander about yein’s body until they settle just round that tiny waistline and squeeze so painstakingly slow as if he were a lethal constrictor boa preparing to suffocate it’s prey for a next meal. “anyone i have ever loved or cared about has been taken away from me. i want to know why.” low growls linger at the edge of trembling lips while the young man’s expression contorts into something between disgust, anguish, and fury. “now you are jeopardizing everything. i can’t find the truth if i keep getting harassed by that officer or put in jail.”

there is a long agonizing pause as swollen tiers– now just a little less chapped and much more plush than they were before yein did him that favor not so long ago– part agape, awaiting some sort of sign or reason to put an end to this pain. no thoughts magically appear. there can be no glint of hope even from the pathetic look made so blatant in the girl’s eyes. nothing. “..unless you have something really, extremely important to tell me.. something maybe you’ve kept secret.. then i suggest you get the out.”

@❛ youngho seo。 it had been mere hours since the odd confrontation that occurred in the lounge, where yein found herself in the middle of youngho and officer shim, arguing over who knows what - all she knew is that her relationship with the former was broken, and she wasn’t sure it could be mended to. simply being by the male’s side for the night was her last string, unwilling to let him go alone since he was drunk after all. even if it made him despise her more, she refused to let him go in such a state, as anything could happen while one cannot give consent or even properly control their own body. and she was damn right, for the male could barely pick up his dropped keys on the ground outside his room. she figured words probably couldn’t reach him, especially since he was far from sober, but she held out anyway.

“youngho, please.” there’s a sort of desperation in her tiny voice as she steps closer than what she expected the male’s current boundaries to allow, helping to pick up his darn keys for him. “i have no idea what even happened earlier between the three of us and i’m just upset as you are, maybe even more,” she muttered, fumbling with the latter’s keys as she made her way to unlocking his apartment door. “plus i couldn’t let your go home drunk - who knows what could happen?” a groan of exhaustion and frustration leaves her lips as she finally gets the door open, tugging the latter inside - she wanted to make sure he was in a fully safe environment before she could leave him on his own. but to be with him, alone? was that safe for the male himself? she couldn’t control herself after all. “and please. I have no sort of romantic relationship with officer shim. no matter what he says,” once the door is shut and locked behind them, the female grasps him by his shoulders; without too much much force, her short stature and petite frame pins the tenant up against the door of his own complex, “i’d spend time with you no matter.”

@❛ yein jung。 as soon as he senses a light tug on his sleeve youngho snaps back, only shooting a glance over his shoulder to check that it was indeed the one person who was quite possibly the last human being on earth he wished to be near at the moment. deep down that was hardly the case. yein had become a good friend despite some of her less than pleasant qualities and the plethora of suspicious doubts which were constantly running through every god damn thought of every miserable day. right when they seemed to edge closer and closer to some sort of.. what, happiness? normalcy? it all came crashing back down to reality.

she confirmed his suspicions. she knew something that she wasn’t telling him nor anyone about the case of his very own family. who knew what other skeletons could be hiding so safely behind her innocent façade that people like officer shim seemed to fall for every time? including youngho himself. to think for a second he was willing to believe that maybe, just maybe this once his worst assumptions were wrong. what a joke. rather than put up some long exasperated and unnecessary fight with the girl he simply lets her walk alongside him. at a good few feet’s distance though.

once reaching apartment 202 does the man stumble to lean against the door, fumbling with his keys to find the right one before it drops onto the ground. youngho groans out as he reaches down to pick them up yet already struggles, all the hard liquor taking negative effect on the senses. “..” mutters soon turn much louder, incapable of resisting the frustrations felt. “go home, yein. before your cop boyfriend puts a bolo on my .”