#❝ finding the gold is losing the rainbow ❞ . . . alt07; winner

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perhaps i was supposed to be more traumatised, it was certainly very quiet as we stared at each other, knowing that we were the last three standing out of hundreds. i had seen more death and turmoil since i’d climbed into that car than most people would ever see, and yet, somehow, i felt untouched by it. if i stopped to think about what that actually meant, i would probably have realised that i was doing it on purpose - remaining firmly within the persona that i had built for myself, the one that had carried me through every single game without putting a target on my own back. i’d even stopped thinking of them by their names, i knew they’d told me, we’d been friendly, in a way, but now they were just 043 and 239; i wasn’t immune to the trauma, i just wasn’t acknowledging it. whatever was about to happen, i had to win. there was no other option, i’d come too far to let the looks in their eyes get to me. i couldn’t.

habit reared it’s ugly head, and i dipped my eyes, adjusting the cuff on the shirt they’d given me. the air of occasion was oppressive, it was the first time in the games that i could feel the weight of death weighing down on me, on all of us, and it was easier to ignore if i was looking at anything other than my opponents. two of us were going to die, and when i looked up once more, and saw the way they stared at each other, i knew i wouldn’t have to take out both of them, which was, oddly, a relief. i had barely eaten anything, unable to ignore the fact it was clearly a final meal, but it didn’t matter, because now, looking at the game arena, the tuxedos, the determined, terrified light in my opponent’s eyes, i understood.

i adjusted my grip on the knife in my hand. and everything fell away.

if anyone was to ask me who had moved first, i wouldn’t have been able to guess. it was frantic, too frantic to focus on, the desperation to survive, to take that money fell on the pair of them in an immediate frenzy of violence. i was a small target, lighter on my feet than 239, and dodged him easily when i saw him lunge towards me, although i felt the sting of a cut on my arm as i escaped. I skidded to a halt as 043 swore, and leapt on top of him. and then i remembered nothing, closing my mind to what was happening so completely that nothing penetrated. until suddenly i realised that my leg hurt now, too, and i was carefully edging around a panting, bloody 043, who was now standing between me and my victory, as i stood between him and a dead man. he said something i didn’t understand, and i couldn’t think of any words to respond with. he spoke again, spitting blood as he glared at me, staggering forwards, trying to strike, again, i didn’t understand, the only thought in my head was that i was going to kill him.

“ this isn’t personal. ” i said, in english. i couldn’t remember any korean, i couldn't remember anything, even my own name seemed out of reach as we collided, and i closed my eyes. his knife was too high, and sliced at my cheek, mine was too low, and plunged into his thigh. i scrambled away, and then tried again.

@sangwoochos

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tag drop - verses

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@sangwoochos sent: ❛ i never said that. ❜ / accepting

i shrugged with an expression that said   ‘ it was implied ’    that i didn’t quite dare to voice. he didn’t need to explicitly tell me that he didn’t have time to deal with me, although he’d come close a few times, i already knew that was the case nine times out of ten. i knew he was busy, i knew that if i was patient enough, he would eventually come to me on his own terms, for his own purposes - but i had never just waited for circumstances to occur naturally, and i wasn’t about to start with him. nothing good ever came from waiting things out, in my experience… and just because i understood how much went into his position, it didn’t mean i was erasing a lifetime of habit. “ perhaps i misunderstood. ”     i offered, charitably, fingers trailing over the edge of his desk, gaze flicking over what he was working on with disinterested eyes, not absorbing any of it, before i lifted my attention to his face. as had been the case every time since he had first removed his mask in front of me, my heart thudded in my chest - excited and childish - and i was only grateful that he never seemed to notice. it was a terrible affliction, finding people who could really do without my pestering and finding myself falling. it was worse that he seemed to put my desire to be around him down to simply not knowing where else to go - that, at least, had some truth to it. because that had been how it started, confusion and fear and a whole new life placed atop my old one. not replaced, that would imply it had been erased, and it was very much still there, calling to me from beneath the weight of the money and the conditions that had come with it. but it was more than that - underneath his standoffish demeanour and his coldness, there was something about him that called to me. and i wanted him to feel it back.     “ if you aren’t too busy to pay attention, ”     i said, and leaned my weight on the hand on his desk, keeping my eyes locked on his,       “ i need to do something. ”      i was quiet for a moment, watching his reaction,       “ give me something to do, literally anything, i don’t care. ”

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@sangwoochos said: “ look at me. ” / accepting

it never stopped. any of it. everything was as awful as it ever had been, except now, i had the blood on my hands competing with everything else for my attention; i had never been very good at violence, certainly not committing it myself, and although i had made my decision to stay alive no matter what, the motivation seemed less and less noble the further behind me the games fell. not that they were gone. of course they weren’t gone. there would be another batch of hopeless, clueless, doomed saps ushered into gas-filled vans and made to compete for the excitement and pleasure of the bastards in their smoking jackets and grotesque masks - but, if anything, that made it worse.

i didn’t mean to show that to him, truly, i didn’t. it was pathetic to mourn the murdered as if i wasn’t complicit - foolish to expect any kind of sympathy from him. my initial desire for understanding had been pushed down as deeply as i could stand to bury it, and i was comfortably hidden from that constricting guilt as long as i paid attention. but i couldn’t stop what happened when i let down my guard, when - exhausted - i had fallen asleep beside him, instead of taking my leave as i usually did. i didn’t have control when the nightmares started - familiar images, dreams i had faced for years suddenly twisting into something far more grisly than what the reality had been.

blood and blame came crashing down around me, and i woke with a terrified gasp, panicked and disorientated for the moment it took for me to realise where i was. but once i recognised him beside me, i was all the more frantic to escape. this wasn’t what we were, this wasn’t what i wanted to show him, and i scrambled for my pants desperate to just get out of there… except he’d noticed, of course he had, and i had to work fast to avoid any unwanted questions.      “ sorry - ”      i whispered, as if quiet now would help at all, i found my shirt, and pulled it on, back turned to him.      “ i didn’t mean to disturb you, i’ll go- ”      i could hear my own voice shaking, and i hated it - when had i gotten so useless?

it didn’t work, his arm found my arm and he turned me around to face him. all i could do was keep my face turned away, the raw redness under my eyes was something i just couldn’t show to him. my heart was still racing, fear of the imagery in my dreams manifesting in what was very quickly hurtling towards a panic attack as i realised that it was all real. his hand gripped my chin, and i was forced to move with it as he tilted my head to see my face. i blinked up at him, falling still under his touch, his quiet demand impossible to argue with as i looked at him, frozen for what felt like an age under his gaze. my pulse thundered in my ears, and i could feel the unsteady ticking of a nerve in my jaw - shit.

“ i didn't mean to - ”      my throat was impossibly dry, closing up around the words i couldn’t quite find.      “ please let go. ”      it was a whisper, quiet and desperate,      “ i don’t want you to see me like- please don’t look at me like that. ”

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@sangwoochos sent: “  who  did  this  to  you  ?  ” / accepting

something told me that i should not answer that question. there had been a time when i would have been far more affected by something like this, when violence turned me into a terrified mess, when every hit i took bruised my ego far more than my body. but now… after everything i had been through, i seemed to have a better hold on my emotions, on my thought processing - at least when someone else was in the room. the moment sang-woo left, i would break down - and i knew that even as i shrugged oh so casually and shook my head. “ it was an accident. ”      i told him, as easily as if it was true.      “ just a little misunderstanding. ”      it was bullshit; sharp insults and sharper fists had left an angry pattern of redness across my ribs, which was something i wouldn’t be able to hide from him for long if they darkened into bruises, but the split lip and the blooming bruise on my temple, stretching up to hide beneath my hairline - that was explainable. money didn’t solve the problems that had curled around me so tightly i’d been on the verge of suffocating - debts could be paid but the damage had already been done - i had destroyed everything, and i couldn’t even seem to hold on to the respect of those who knew - who had seen me win. he couldn’t know. i couldn’t tell him. it wouldn’t fix anything at all.

i glanced up at him, my heart thudding painfully in my chest. i needed something that he couldn’t give me, and i didn’t dare to ask for it. so instead of asking for help, instead of telling him the truth, and opening myself up to his ridicule… i lied. “ it’s not even that bad, i just bruise easily, you should know that. ”      i flashed him a smirk, then averted my gaze again to focus on fixing the cuff of my shirt, and trying to ignore the taste of blood in my mouth.      “ honestly, mistaken identity - it’s almost funny. ”

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@sangwoochos / @tracksuited said: ❛  if only you'd listened to me, i wouldn't have had to spank you.  ❜ / accepting

the sting was still tingling across my skin, fresh and sharp as i took a few deep breaths. his voice was low, tone as calm as it ever was, and i knew he was doing it on purpose. i’d pushed him as far as i could, but despite the solid weight of his hands he still wasn’t rising to it, not properly, staring at me as if he was waiting for something - i didn’t know what it was exactly he wanted, but i had my suspicions. if he wanted me to say sorry, he’d have to endure just a little bit more of a performance. i kept my gaze on his, watching him watch me as i slid in between his legs. i made sure he saw the slight wince, made sure he heard the way my breath caught when i moved just a touch too freely. after all, i was aiming for satisfaction. i didn’t lift my hands to touch him, not yet. there were times when i wouldn’t be able to have that kind of self control - the truth was i was tactile,  i liked touching him, i liked it when he touched me, even when things weren’t going in a sexual direction it was a reminder that i was somehow getting closer to him, even if it was only for a few minutes at a time. but having only just had his palm imprinted on my ass, i was willing to behave, i just wasn’t sure how long it would last. “ so tell me again. ”       i said, in a half whisper, keeping my eyes locked on his,     “ remind me, everything’s gone all… fuzzy. ”      that was when one hand lifted, and i let my fingers hover over the bulge in his trousers, not touching, not yet…       “ you want me to deal with this, hm? ”       i leaned towards it, and my hand rested on his thigh as my lips traced his hardness through the fabric, eyelids fluttering closed for just a moment before i straightened up, withdrawing my hand back into my own lap. my eyes, however, stayed fixed on his crotch, the downward cast, i hoped, doing very little to hide the want that gleamed in them. “ i promise i’ll listen this time. ”

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@sangwoochos said: ❛ i don’t have time for distractions right now ❜ / accepting

i paused, his dismissal coming the moment i entered his eyeline. it wasn't as though i didn't know he was busy, of course i did, he made sure to remind me of it at every opportunity. he was sullen and serious and never failed to make me feel like i was on the back foot, and yet i couldn't quite stop myself from forcing myself into his company whenever i could. he may huff and roll his eyes, but he never actually sent me away, and i took that as a sign of encouragement.

even now, as he spoke, i didn't take the opportunity to slip away. instead i just settled a mild smile onto my face, and shrugged one shoulder - although i didn't move further into the office. “ i didn't even say anything, yet. ” i murmured, quietly, although there was a tinge of playfulness tugging on the corner of my mouth. “ don't let me disturb you, you don't even have to look at me. ”

and then i fell silent, but i still didn't leave. in fact, i stepped closer, the entire time keeping my gaze locked on him, waiting for the moment i crossed the invisible line. i wasn't completely sure what i was there for, i never really was when i was drawn to him, his attention was in all honesty my only goal, and even though i knew it was a dangerous mindset, i didn't much care what form that attention took. i kept telling myself it was because he understood, but that wasn't quite true, and i wasn't even fooling myself as i stopped a few steps from him he still hadn't thrown me out.

“ i'm not distracting you if i stay here, am i? ”

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@sangwoochos said: ❛ all you need to do is exactly what i tell you to do. ❜ / accepting

there was a solid thumping in my chest, erratic and rapid, and even i couldn’t tell why. there was, undeniably, attraction there, and if i stopped to think about it too long i would only end up falling further down his rabbit hole, but that didn’t seem to be the only thing making my heart race. i should have been irritated, i knew that, i was never too big of a fan of being scolded before i’d even had a chance to do anything. but that feeling was strangely absent, in face, i was dealing with quite the opposite

i smirked, ignoring my racing pulse, and tilting my head as i looked up at him. “ you know, i was never very good at that. ” it was easier to make the joke than it was to open myself up to the fact that i didn't completely hate the idea of being beholden to him - that wasn't me, i didn't just end up doing what people wanted of me, it led to dangerous precedents being set. but how much worse could things honestly get? i'd already been pulled into the worst thing i'd ever experienced and not only survived, but made it out with a lot of money for my troubles.

if the price for that was keeping him happy? well, we’d just have to see if it was worth it. so i straightened my head, although my smirk remained firmly on my lips, “ i guess i can try, though. ”

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@sangwoochos said: ❛ what is worse than death? ❜ / accepting

his question hung in the air for a long moment as i tried desperately to come up with an answer that wouldn’t make me feel like an idiot. not too long ago, my answer would have been very different, a bright grin and an unserious list of little every day inconveniences that were barely more than irritations. death was the one thing that controlled everything, and i had lived my life refusing to acknowledge my fear of it, controlling and manipulating everything around me so that i could re-shape the reality of those around me to fit my own goals - constantly chasing that high because if i could control everything, then i didn’t have to fear anything.

except i was scared, all the time. of pain, of prison, of losing everything. and, at the centre of it all, death. i knew he understood that. no one could pass through those games, using the tactics that were necessary, throwing strangers into the line of fire to take the next step, and not be terrified of dying. it was the core of the games, not money. i now knew exactly what my life was worth. it was a strange feeling. but at least dying was final, i didn’t know what i was going to do now.

“ torture. ” i said eventually, “ i think that’s pretty up there. ” guilt, too, but i didn’t say that. “ being hunted, never knowing who’s behind you. ” some people would say loneliness, but i’d gotten used to that a long time ago, there was no such thing as home for me, nowhere i belonged, and no one i belonged with. the only person i figured would understand even a little bit about what was going on in my head was sang-woo, and i wasn’t convinced most of the time that he didn’t want to tell me to fuck off.

“ death’s quick, it’s everything that leads to it that’s fucked up. ”