#Gru he moodboard | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kpop-fanatic-lover16 · 4 years ago

Text

Trains and cigarettes - Choi San

Pairing: Ateez San x female!reader

Genre: Mafia!au, fluff, angst

Warnings: guns, smoking (Don’t smoke it’s very bad for you), depictions of the boys are just fictional, guns, physical violence, some scenes are abusive

Word count: 11k

A/n: I FINALLY updated! So sorry it took me forever, but here we are! Special shout out to @sparkingstoryinspiration for my three prompts in this story: A train, cigarette smoke, and the sound of distant music! I hope y’all enjoy!

Moodboard credit: @underthecrazy20

A rush of disgust overcame you as you stepped aside in the narrow walkway to let a drunk man of fifty pass by. With your breath held inside your lungs, you prayed to the gods that he wouldn’t touch you and that he would hurry up so you could continue on your way. The floor rocked under you and the man barely missed falling into you. Move you idiot! You told yourself as you stepped aside and let him fall into the wood-paneled walls. An unnoticed sigh left your lips as you walked to the end of the hallway and grabbed the handle of the door to enter the compartment on the other side. Only a few people were sitting in the booths and the bartender was busy washing cups and cleaning the counters of spilled liquor. You locked eyes with one specific person who didn’t hold your gaze for very long, instead you sat across from him.

A cigarette rested silently in between his middle and index finger as he leaned against the wall with his legs out in front of him, taking up his entire side of the booth. He slowly inhaled the nicotine at the unlit end and blew it back out his mouth and nose before looking at you, “Did you find them?”

Reminding yourself to not give your opinion on how he shouldn’t be smoking cigarettes, you turned to your bag and pulled out the three yellow files and laid them out on the table. He took another hit and blew the smoke on to the file he picked up first. The smoke fell off the paper and drifted under your nose causing you to cough and waft the awful smell away. With a small glare, you watched him smile slightly, not letting the glare go unnoticed as he peeked over the file. Playing no more game he set the file down and opened it along with the other two.

“What do you want to drink?” he suddenly asked, waving at the waitress, who had just arrived in the car, over to your table. You stared at him incredulously.

“We don’t have time for drinks! We’ll be arriving in Berlin in six hours!”

“I think you want a drink,” he insisted as the waitress drew nearer, pulling out her pad and pencil. You began to protest more by repeatedly saying no to the man in front of you.

“No, I don’t want a–”

“What can I get for you?” the waitress questioned kindly. Your boss smiled up at her, his charm seeping through and touching the girl at her heart just slightly. She seemed moved almost immediately, just like every other girl he had smiled at. Fortunately, you had never been one of those girls and that helped you stay focused and have the ability to work with him in person.

“Can we get a large margarita?” he asked, watching her scribble the request down all the while peeking over at you to see you glaring at him for what felt like the hundredth time since you had sat down. She nodded and left to go get the drink started. He took your harsh glare with a grain of salt and raised the cigarette to his lips again. When he blew it out once more, the smoke curled and twisted in front of his handsome face.

“Put the cigarette out, now,” you demanded, folding your arms in front of your chest and holding your ground. It was disgusting you just watching him take a hit every few seconds. How could anyone stand those? But was it the cigarette that you disliked the most or was it the man that was holding it? The latter. He raised his eyebrows at you and smashed the end of the burning chemical in an ashtray on the table, putting it out.

“I forgot how boring it is to travel with you,” he grumbled, inhaling some air to sigh dramatically afterward. That stung at your heart and your imaginary tally keeper in charge of your feelings took his pen and added another line to the tally chart you were keeping in the back of your head for when your boss made an offensive jab at you. As usual, you kept a straight face and moved to sit up more.

“Your way of fun when traveling is to sleep around, get wasted and fill your lungs and head with smoke,” you retorted, sliding one of the folders toward you to scan, but he slammed one of his hands on the table, halting the file from moving. By the time you looked up, he was already staring at you. “Excuse me for wanting something a bit more serious.”

“Don’t forget who you’re talking to,” he warned, squinting his eyes in a glare at you. He wasn’t a fan of your attitude and his words had only been said sarcastically to tease you.

“My best friend Choi San, or the boss of the European mafia?” you retaliated, raising your eyebrows at him in question. San looked away from you, trying to regain his composure before replying to your question. He always lost his head when you used his full name. What he didn’t want you to know is that you had him wrapped completely around your finger as a mafia boss and as your best friend. It only worsened when you touched him and used his name like you just did.

“I told you to leave that in the past,” San mumbled, returning to the folders and looked away from you. He couldn’t let you penetrate his wall and risk compromising his cool. Since you had already expressed that you had no interest in a relationship and you worked for him, he couldn’t let you know that he had a small thing for you. In the past, before he had become the mafia boss and he was just Choi San, he had feelings for you, and back then you had been a little more interested in a relationship.

“Choi San or our friendship?” you pressed on, wanting an answer from him.

It had been so long since you had used his full name and it brought back memories that you wished weren’t fading away. You would give everything to have old San back. But he would never allow that and would want to continue moving forward no matter how much you wanted to hang onto the past. To have him hold you in his arms after you had told him your troubles and tell you everything, he liked even down to what his favorite scent. Now, he kept to himself and never told you anything. When he shut himself out, you quit trying and eventually never talked to him about your troubles and after he broke your heart that cared so much for him, you vowed to never allow yourself to fall in love again. Never would you tell him, but you had fallen in love with Choi San, and every night you dreamed about the possibility of him returning those feelings.

“Choi San,” he said firmly, shaking his head slightl as if he couldn’t believe the two of you were having this conversation. “Our friendship will always stand. Things may be slightly different, but I’ll never just throw all those years we spent together away.”

“In case you didn’t notice,” you spoke up, sitting up straighter and grabbing your bag. “Things have not just slightly changed. I don’t know who you are anymore and quite frankly I don’t care to get to know him. The only reason I’m here is because I made a promise to Choi San that I would stay with him even after he became a mafia boss.”

San was now at a loss for words and his heart was smashed into a thousand pieces when you told him you didn’t want to know him. You stood up and gathered the rest of your things, “Enjoy your awaiting drink, maybe Wooyoung will share it with you.”

Just then, Wooyoung (San’s second in command) appeared at the end of the train car, making his way over to your table. He seemed innocent and a very personable guy, but he didn’t usually want to talk with anyone but his immediate people. It looked as though he didn’t know about your previous conversation with San either. Wooyoung hugged you briefly and kept his arm around your waist as he looked between both you and San. San tried to cover up the fact that he was glaring at Wooyoung’s arm on your waist.

“Did you already finish the meeting?”

“No,” you faked a smile for him before giving San a small glare, “you two can go over those files yourself. I’m going to find Hongjoong.”

Wooyoung watched you pull away from him and leave the train car to do exactly what you said you were going to do, find Hongjoong. Wooyoung had just come back from Hongjoong’s compartment where the older boy was going over blueprints and mission plans. San scoffed lightly and went back to reading the files you had brought. Slowly, Wooyoung took up your spot and silently sat in front of San. The previous conversation hadn’t gone well, and he had no idea what it was about which didn’t help him decide on a topic to start a new conversation. To avoid a lash out from his boss, Wooyoung didn’t ask about the conversation that went south, but instead he asked if San was okay.

“You okay?”

San sighed deeply and placed his elbows on the table and looked out the window that showed the passing landscapes of Germany. This mission was going to fail if he didn’t get his head on straight and allow you to run his thoughts. So far, the only one who knew about San’s feelings for you was Wooyoung and he had promised to keep it a secret for the sake of San’s reputation. How helpful would it be for the enemy to find out that you were San’s love interest and put your life in danger as well as use the information to attack him? The fewer people know about his feelings for you the better.

“She doesn’t want anything to do with me now,” San said, finally looking at Wooyoung who slowly began to nod at what he was hearing. Things were starting to make sense to him now. There most likely was a point in the conversation where the past and future came up and you said something out of a retaliation.

“This is referring to Choi San versus Mafia Boss, yes?” Wooyoung questioned, already assuming the situation before he got a nod in response. Wooyoung inhaled lightly and exhaled slowly as he thought about how to get San his confidence back and also fixes things for now so they could complete the Berlin Mission. “Will you listen if I speak?”

“Only if I agree with what you decide to say,” San answered honestly. At that, Wooyoung chuckled. San also broke out into a smile and seemed to feel a little comfort from the company of his second in command. Wooyoung decided that it would just be better to move forward from the bitter moment and get other things done like analyzing the three files in front of him instead of telling San something he’s already heard from him.

“Okay, gang leader number one,” Wooyoung began, referring to the first file, “Abilities include: weapons master, high tech aid and guard, and massive strength. Weaknesses are, slow in hand-to-hand combat, and zero allies.”

“A Lone wolf,” San mumbled, taking a closer look at the ID picture to see a bulky looking man of forty with machine guns strapped to his back and a snarl on his lips. His eyebrows furrowed downward in an angry stare and he had some of the widest shoulder San had seen. Even though he outweighed San by close to two hundred pounds, he wouldn’t be able to win against San and his men because they tended to be quick and straight to the point, especially in hand-to-hand combat. Plus, San had his own weapons master which most gangs didn’t have.

“Gang leader number two has stealth abilities and psychological manipulation. Weaknesses are heavy defenses and hand to hand combat.”

“Are all of them unprepared in one of the most vital fighting styles? If you don’t at least have the basics down, then you’re defenseless when you have no gun power. Sheesh, none of my men will serve under me if they don’t at least have the basics down and even then my standards are raised too high for a man to just know the basics,” San shook his head in disbelief as he looked at the last gang leader and noticed that his weakness was also hand-to-hand combat. Wooyoung also seemed surprised at the lack of physical abilities. “And they wonder why I run the continent.”

“If we take out all of their other defense mechanisms then they will be defenseless against us and you should be able to establish your authority to them without an issue. We’ll need to do some digging into their second in commands to see what their weaknesses are.”

“If and when you do find out more information will be when I distinguish their biggest weakness and I’ll easily win this agreement with fear and convincing power. Nobody will be able to stop the power I withhold, and I’ll have the last straw.”

“What weakness would that be?” Wooyoung furrowed his eyebrows. San sat quietly as a waitress dropped off a lime margarita. She left a few straws next to the glass and left the two once again to continue their conversation. Wooyoung noticed her eyes lingering seductively at their table, but he made sure to establish disinterest from both of them. San began again when she got far enough from their table.

“The first rule to being a ruler is that you must not have any information about yourself out in the air to be accessed,” San leaned a little closer to the younger boy and lowered his voice, “Which is why I burned my birth record and every single file regarding me. High school, middle school, and elementary files burned and destroyed. Every trace of Choi San is gone. If I can get information on all three gang leaders and their respective second in commands, then that’s a weakness.”

San closed the files and grabbed his drink, downing the cold blended ice. Wooyoung gathered the files up and straightened them by tapping them lightly on the table, “But you have the best research department in all of Europe, technically that is considered a disadvantage.”

“Everything I have, and they don’t, is automatically considered a disadvantage. What they do have in common with me will be their weakness because they won’t know how to use it against me, and you and I both know that.” San raised his eyebrows in a cocky way as he placed a ten-dollar bill on the table and got up to leave. Wooyoung followed in suit, standing up and looking at San’s hand that was offering him a cigarette.

“You know I don’t do cigarettes,” Wooyoung’s face scrunched up in disgust. San rolled his eyes at the remark. Both of them stayed silent as they walked through the dining car because certain people were glancing in their direction with looks of annoyance plastered on their faces. After all, they weren’t being respectively quiet in their conversations.

“Right, I forgot that you’re a hobbit all around,” San jokingly sneered, walking through the door that led out of the dining car and into a narrow hallway where six rooms were held. Solid wooden walls with an occasional door were on their right and windows were on their left, displaying the burring scenery zooming by.

“Just because I smoke a pipe doesn’t mean I’m a hobbit!” Wooyoung fired, feeling attacked on the subject for the hundredth time. San laughed gleefully and threw the flustered boy an apologetic smile. After all, he knew he wasn’t a hobbit, but it was always a thrill to hear him fuss about the name, “You should try it sometime, maybe a proper cigar. It tastes way better than your nasty nicotine.”

Meanwhile, you were sitting with Hongjoong in his private room, watching him mark blueprints with markers and pen. He had greeted you when you walked into the room, but neither of you had started a conversation because last-minute details and plans were being completed before the train arrived in Berlin. There was still time left, but there wasn’t any extra time to mess around. Everything else was in place, but the blueprints had finally come in at the last minute just before you left. Most people would use digital blueprints, but those could easily be hacked in a different country and Hongjoong couldn’t afford that on the way to Berlin. Everything would be compromised if it was hacked and the other three gang leaders would have a step ahead of San. You could only imagine San’s reaction to hearing that he would no longer have the floor.

“Okay, everything is in order,” Hongjoong said more to himself. Curiously, you leaned forward to take a look at his work. All of his markings were sharp and well thought out and were perfectly executed. This is why San has Hongjoong, because he’s the best. He was three years older than you, and it showed. Never in your life would you be able to get blueprints at the last moment and devise a plan only five hours away from the mission.

“I’m going to take these to Yunho and Jongho so they can memorize them and then I’ll be back,” he told you as he rolled the prints up and put them in film canisters to disguise them. As far as he knew there wasn’t anyone who would read them, but he was always careful about how he moved from one location to another. Because he was going to do that, you decided to load and check artillery. Since this room was where you kept your big guns, you could stay here until Hongjoong got back.

Ten minutes later, you had three large rifles laying on the bed and two of them had already been loaded. All of the smaller pistols were always loaded in case of a gunfight which was expected when working in the mafia. The three rifles laying in front of you weren’t the only ones on this train, but these belonged to you and you always had them with you so no one but you could access them. On your team, you were in charge of weapons and made sure you would win easily if there was a gunfight. Most of the time you didn’t have any problems, but when one of the men overestimated or underestimated the power a gun could hold, it failed. That’s why you worked mainly with the inner-circle and not the men under each inner-circle monarch.

A soft knock thudded on the door before it opened. Your brother stepped into the room and closed the door behind him to keep your conversation private. He stepped behind you and peered over your shoulder at the rifles. For a split second, you glanced in the wall mirror at the head of the bed and saw him towered behind you. When you didn’t say anything, he wrapped his arms around your waist and kissed the side of your head.

“I heard you and San got into an argument,” he began, speaking lightly in case the subject was still sore. “Are you okay?”

“I wish,” you replied, setting the rifle down and turning around to hug him. He returned the hug with a tight squeeze knowing that the transition San had made to be the Mafia boss he is today wasn’t easy for you to watch and take. Especially since he was the boy you loved with all your heart. It had been so hard to keep you away from entering the Mafia which is one reason he had agreed to join if San kept you out. However, San broke the deal and you joined. “I want my San back.”

“I know, but you’re going to have to get used to who he is now,” came the reply. Sighing deeply, you pulled away and looked up at your brother. He was looking down at you with sympathy glistening in his eyes and a sad smile. “It’s going to be hard, but people change and you’re looking at only the bad in him. Step back and find some good.”

“Thank you, Mingi.”

“We’re having a meeting in Yeosang’s room,” he said, pulling away and helping you stash the rifles away quickly so you wouldn’t be late for the meeting. You were hoping that Hongjoong knew about the meeting or else he would come back to you missing. Assuming that Yunho and Jongho would’ve told him, you left with Mingi, exiting out into the hallway.

The hallway was empty when the both of you entered it, continuing to the right and into another train car through connecting doors. They opened into another hallway where a man was walking toward you from the other end. Without a word, Mingi pulled you in front of him to make room for the man to pass by but keeping his hand on your wrist as suspicion filled him. Silently the man passed by and the two of you kept moving. But before you could reach the end, another man entered the hallway and blocked the door heading out. Slowing to a stop, Mingi glanced behind him to see the man from earlier blocking the door you had entered through. Both of you stopped completely in the middle of the hallway and thought about your options.

“There’s not much of a place for you to take us and get away with our capture,” Mingi threw out the statement with a breezy tone. It was almost as if he said that, they might reason with him and he wouldn’t have to kill them. With a cruel smile, both of them chuckled darkly. Mingi saw the small glare you threw in his direction. Like your mother had always said, ‘A bluff backed with ego is a trip to embarrassment backed with defeat’.

“Capture isn’t the main objective here,” said the man in front of you. Mingi glanced behind himself once more to see the man behind him reaching into his waist. Suddenly, you pulled a handgun from one of your holsters on your hip, aiming at the man in front of you who also had his gun aimed. He smiled mockingly, “your termination is, and considering you’re on a train trapped in a train car, that should be pretty easy to accomplish.”

Faintly, you heard the cocking of Mingi’s gun click. If you could do it fast enough, the plan was to squat down on the ground and fire under your brother’s legs at the man aiming his weapon at Mingi while he turned and shot your antagonist. Before your time was wasted and your attackers could fire first, you got on the ground and fired under Mingi’s legs at the man behind you; a second fire, at the time your gun had gone off, filled the train car and when you looked back, the man you had been staring at earlier was on the floor dead. You stood up and looked at Mingi with another small glare.

“I have a strong feeling there were plans made behind my back and this is the result of those plans,” you growled out, watching the features of Mingi’s face become flustered with worry. He knew that you could pull the truth out of him with the snap of a finger, so instead of carrying on the conversation, he passed you and cocked his gun again. He shot at one of the windows on the left wall, shattering the glass. The sound of rushing wind filled the train car and blew around your hair. Mingi picked up the man he had shot and tossed him out of the window before doing the same to the other guy.

“Just be ready for another one, will you?” he rolled his eyes and opened the door to another train car that had more rooms. He motioned for you to step through the door first. “We’ll discuss the issue at hand later.”

“There will be more than just a discussion, that’s a promise,” you responded, walking through the door and firing your gun at another man running toward the both of you with a gun in his hands. Mingi rolled his eyes again and followed you into the hallway, shooting another window open and tossing the dead guy out of the fast train. The people running the train company would have to fix a few broken windows, but at least they didn’t have to deal with dead men and possibly get onto San’s tracks.

Both of you went through one more door, locking that one from the side you were now on because this train car had all of the rooms rented out for your team. Almost instantly, one of the doors opened and a familiar face appeared. He looked at the shattered window with the wind rushing in, the bullet shells on the ground, and your irritated facial expression. Without a word, you pointed at the door at the end of the hall.

“Lock that door, we’re being followed,” you told him as you squeezed passed him into the room where the rest of the team was settled. They seemed confused, but on high alert (with their guns drawn), after the sound of a gun being fired twice, and a sudden appearance of you and Mingi right afterward. There was only one person you were trying to find, and he was standing by the window staring outside at the passing scenery. He looked over at the door when movement caught his attention.

“What is going on?” Hongjoong asked, getting up and following Yeosang who had followed your order to lock the door at the end of the hall. Everyone looked at the man you were staring at and suddenly they all came to realize what the issue was.

“San–”

San held up his hand to silence you, “Look me in the eyes if you’re going to lecture me.”

“I am looking you in the eyes, you idiot!” you nearly shouted. San, irritated, rolled his eyes and turned toward you with his arms crossed. Somehow, that only increased your anger at him. He knew that you were aware of his plans and he didn’t want to hear the long lecture you were going to give him.

At some point, he had planned something and went over it with the team but excluded you because if the plan was anywhere near stupid to you, you would do everything in your power to get San to drop the idea. As you had expected and foretold, the so-called plan had blown up in San’s face because he didn’t know that the enemy was on the train. Like always, you would be the one that would have to save his reputation from cracking, so he stayed afloat all the while you nearly lose your life while being shot at in a train. If Mingi hadn’t been there, you might not have ended up standing in front of San alive.

“But your tone will only close me off from listening to you,” San retaliated, shoving his hands in his pocket and striding over to where is a glass of whiskey was resting. He picked it up and raised it to his lips as he walked back over where you were standing; keeping eye contact, he took another sip from his glass. Anger rose from your toes to your throat and possessing you into snatching the glass from his hand, spilling whiskey, and throwing it over the bed frame to smash into a million pieces.

San grabbed you by your wrists in blinded anger before leaning in closer to your face, a threatening tone lacing his voice inside and out, “Choose your next actions carefully.”

Mingi stepped up immediately and separated the two of you, being a bit more forceful toward San, after all, he had just attacked his sister. He released a very angry San and stepped in front of you to protect you in case San freaked. “We don’t have time for this petty fight that’s been going on between you two for years now! We are currently compromised, and we need to get off this train as soon as possible.”

“Can someone explain what is going on?” Hongjoong desperately begged, closing the door behind him and Yeosang who had reentered the room. “If there is an issue then we have to move fast. Those locks on the door won’t hold for very long.”

“In the train car next to this one, two men blocked us from moving into this one,” you explained, taking a seat on the bed. Adrenaline was still rushing through your veins and the only thing on your mind was to get off this train or terrible things are going to happen. Hongjoong glanced at San to see him thinking hard. This hadn’t been the plan and there was no way they could get off this train without being injured.

“That wasn’t the plan,” Yunho was speaking to San who looked over at him, seeming a bit calmer now. However, San stayed silent. Oh, so there was a plan you had been excluded from. You thought in bitterness. “They were supposed to meet us in Berlin to share the agreement and then help you take down those three gang leaders.”

“Will you keep your mouth shut?” Jongho rushed out, glancing in your direction. “She doesn’t need to know about that plan until we are out of danger and can explain it to her fairly.”

“Fairly?” you questioned, furrowing your eyebrows at the statement. Everyone was now looking at you, holding their breaths. “There is nothing fair about keeping secrets from me no matter what the situation. We are a team and the way that works is through trust, not keep secrets from each other. As far as I’m concerned, at this point in our teamwork, you can all go die in a forgotten well. At least maybe then I could rely on the logic of your dead bodies and not the lies from the boys who tell me they’re my brothers and friends, then go and stab me behind my back!”

“Where are you going?” Wooyoung asked, standing up as you made your way to the door. With a harsh glare, you reached into your waist and pulled your gun out, cocking the bullet chamber and then grabbing an automatic rifle off the top of the couch next to the door.

“I’m getting off this train and away from this room full of backstabbers,” you answered coldly, taking the safety off the automatic rifle. San, however, was a step ahead of you, gabbing your guns quickly and throwing them to Seonghwa who caught them with ease and put the safety back on the automatic rifle. It caught you off guard as San dragged you away from the door and made you sit down.

“Everything is not about you, Y/n,” San said, letting you yank your body away from his grip. He took your glares and let them feed his anger. The angrier he was the more he could get his point across and ensure fear and submission. “Some plans don’t have to involve you and they sure as the light of day don’t have to be approved by you. Get used to it, ‘cause you’re not my go-to person anymore. You may not like what I plan, but you will follow my orders; you work under me and I dish out the orders. Understood?”

When you sat quietly with no intention of answering him because you knew you’d be hitting a solid wall, he straightened up and turned back to the rest of the team. Everyone sat in an uncomfortable silence. San tossed the automatic to Jongho who stood up and caught the rifle with ease. He suddenly became very serious as he gave orders starting with Jongho, “Escort Hongjoong to his room and get everything. Everyone has five minutes, go.”

All the boys filed out of the room, leaving you with San. He said nothing, only got to work with packing everything up. You weren’t continuing your trip to Berlin, but he didn’t say anything about where he decided to go next. Instead of asking, you walked around the room and helped him pack. There wasn’t going to be much time left when the boys finished their orders, so you would need to be ready when that time came. Anger was still possessed your body, but you tried to ignore it for the sake of getting out of the danger zone and also the sake of your sanity. Once everything was back in their respective bags, San opened the door out into the hallways where everyone was gathered.

“There is a town just five minutes away from here that the train is making a stop at,” Seonghwa informed, reading off his phone. Jongho, Yeosang, Wooyoung and Yunho were all on high alert, glancing back and forth at the doors that were locked to give them more time for a better escape plan.

San nodded in approval, knowing that was their best bet. The wind was whipping around everyone as the nine of you stood in the hall, waiting for the next move. Seonghwa and San looked like they were thinking hard on the plans that needed to be thought out to perfection for this to work smoothly. San clapped loudly, a light bulb going off in his head. Everyone jumped slightly at the sudden noise, turning their attention to San. Some of the guys held irritated looks while others waited impatiently for the plan to be told.

“They already know who we are,” San began, receiving nods of acknowledgment. “We need to split up so it’s harder for them to identify us. Break up into pairs of two and leave on different exit points along the train. There is one at this car and every other train car. Find one and take it, we’ll meet up in the town square in two days. Mingi and Yunho with Hongjoong, Seonghwa and Wooyoung, Jongho and Yeosang. Then Y/n and me.”

“What if I wanted to go with Mingi?” you interjected, wanting to go with anyone but San. You already couldn’t stand the way he was treating you and it would only get worse if you had to stay with him. To be honest, you needed a while to cool off and Mingi was your ticket to cooling off.

“No,” San denied, not even looking at you. Mingi gave you a sympathetic gaze and went to group up with Yunho and Hongjoong. There was no time to argue and here was not the time; you would have to go with San for two days and lay low before meeting up with the rest of the team whether you liked it or not. “Do as I say and don’t draw attention to yourselves. Make up your own plans from here, but remember, if your get caught it’s on you and not me. Now go.”

San pulled you to the right, while the rest of them went to the left. Almost immediately, you yanked your arm away from his grip and sent him a glare so dark he’d be dead if it was a death option. His eyes rolled into the back of his head and he went first into the next train car. Inside this particular train car, there were small tables and a few couches section off to create a seating area. It was understandably a lounge car, but the strange thing was there was no one in the car. San took a few slow steps inside and looked around with eyes. Thankfully your gun had been returned to you and it was now loaded to full capacity and in your hand ready to fire. His hand came up in a stopping motion and he leaned back, searching for your free hand to take in his.

“I know we aren’t on good terms right now, but I need you to work with me,” he begged, his eyes practically pleading with you to understand what he was saying, “I don’t want to lose you and I want to safely get off this train.”

“I’m one hundred percent behind you and ready to go,” you promised, nodding assuredly to him. Instantly, he looked relieved and ready to kill anything in his path if that meant getting off this train. Nothing was going to stop him and harm the both of you in the process. But just before you go too far into the car, you mumbled under your breath, “I still hate you though.”

Secretly, San smiled at the small comment, knowing that even though you had to work together now, things would go back to how they were only a few seconds ago. To be honest, San was dreading the thought of going back to your cranky attitude. There was nothing that could change your mind when you were mad. Maybe if he explained why he didn’t tell you about the secret plan then you would settle your anger and come back to him in a normal fashion. Did he blame you for being angry with him? No. In fact, he wished he had told you and worked to convince you that it was a promising idea instead of writing the idea completely off and keeping you in the dark.

Just up ahead, the door opened on the other end of the train and a man looking like the other two from earlier entered the car. San paused and eyed him suspiciously, but you didn’t waste any time in shooting him to the ground, dead. When San gave you a surprised look, you shook him off and fired at one of the windows to throw the man out. The black-haired boy stopped you from moving forward and picked up the man instead, throwing him out the window and continuing into the other train car; the last car until the caboose.

“What is your goal here?” you asked, cocking your gun again and moving away from the door as San opened it and fired his gun into the storage car. He entered the car without answering your question and came back with another man on his shoulder; he threw him out of the window also before grabbing your hand and pulling you into the storage car. “There isn’t an exit on this side of the train and the caboose is strictly for the crew of this train!”

San continued to ignore you, putting his gun in his waist and moving one of the shelves in front of the door after he locked it and broke the handle off on both sides. He adjusted his duffle bag onto his back and looked around him, the only source of light in the room was natural light coming down from the sky light on the roof. Frustrated, you followed his eyes to the sky light and then knew his plan. A gunshot would be too loud next to the caboose and would call attention to yourselves; then you began to look around for something to break the window open with.

“I’ll just shoot it,” San said, giving up on looking for a hammer or an axe. You held up your hand to stop him, already seeing something that would work. He waited for you to figure out what you were going to do, keeping his hand on his gun in case shooting the glass was the last resolution.

In the corner of the room, there was a group of mental stakes as tall as San’s shoulder from the floor up. A bundle of rope and wire were on a shelf close by, a metal tray with handles sat with dishes inside of it on another shelf, and a rolled rug stood quietly in the same corner as the stakes. Instantly, you grabbed to of the stakes and used the shelves on either side of the storage car to hold them above your head. With the wire and another stake, you took the single stake and raised it to rest gently against the glass between the two stakes laying horizontally on the shelves and tied them together with the wire to hold the vertical metal stake against the glass. After that you emptied the sturdy tray and took the rope you saw earlier. You looped the rope through the handles to create a strap and then tied it tightly in the back to secure it. As if the tray was a snow board, you slipped your feet into the tray and adjusted the rope to sit across the top of your feet.

“What on earth are you doing?” San asked, watching you work with pure confusion clouding his head.

“Shh!” you hushed him, trying to focus. With that on your feet, you grabbed the rolled rug and laid down on the floor, just under the metal stake hanging above. Carefully, you raised your legs and pulled your knees to your chest while you positioned the rug under your lower back to give your legs a better length. You waited, lined the back of the tray with the bottom of the stake and felt the train beginning to slow. With all your strength, you pushed your legs away from your chest and raised your lower back upward, shoving the metal stake up and through the glass, shattering it into a million pieces, right after you had shielded your face. After the glass had broken, you got up and fixed yourself.

“Use the shelves and the metal stakes laying horizontally to climb out onto the roof,” you told San, taking the duffle bag off his shoulders and urging him to climb. He didn’t hesitate and used the things around him to his advantage. Once he was on the roof, he clapped his hands and waited for you to toss him the duffle bag. He caught it with ease and helped you climb up and out onto the roof. The train was now pulling into the Train Station.

“You have glass in your hair,” San mused, grabbing a shard out of your hair. His smile was wide enough that his dimples appeared and suddenly he reminded you of Choi San, your best friend who would sneak into your house at night to hang out with you or convince you to get into trouble with him. He tilted his head sideways slightly, “All of that work when I could’ve just shot the glass?”

“The crew would be on your back by now and you would’ve had to come up with a better idea to climb out,” you replied bluntly, taking his smile with a blank face. He rolled his eyes playfully and then looked back at you to see you were pointing behind him. He turned and saw a bridge providing access to the upper floor of the Train Station. San nodded and carefully made his way up a little way and jumped when the bridge came close enough; he climbed up onto the deserted bridge and whirled around to wait for you. The bridge was coming up close and the train was going faster than it should be when pulling up to a Station, concerning you more than necessary. If San made it, so could you; finally, you set your target and jumped.

The rough texture of the concrete scraped your hands as you held on to the edge of the bridge. Unfortunately, the only hand that had a good grip was your left and that was not your dominant hand, giving you less time to figure out how you were going to get up. San had to stay out of sight, and you needed to get up on the bridge or else your position would also be compromised. A strong hand gripped yours desperately as you tried to hold on longer. It was San.

“I’ve got this hand!” San called over the rushing sound of the train down below. “Let go with your right and grab the metal bars!”

Trusting his judgement on the situation, you let him hold your left hand and jerked yourself upward to grab the bars, succeeding. From there you were able to grab the bars more firmly and pull yourself up onto the bridge. Once you were safely on the bridge, San pulled you into his arms and held you close to his frame. All of your anger was gone at the moment and everything melted away at the feeling of his body against yours and the safety of his arms engulfed you like a warm blanket on a wintry night. He let you breathe for a second before pulling back to check your face and body.

“Thank you,” you gasped out, trying to regain your composure and stabilize your mind. San kissed your forehead tenderly and grabbed your hand in his, pulling you away from the edge and to one of the ends of the bridge. “Do you know where you are going?”

“Every Train Station has the same safety protocols and there is always an exit no matter what part of the area you are in,” San began, still holding your hands and increasing his pace as he led the way down some stairs and over to a boiler room. Surprisingly, nobody was inside when San broke the lock to enter. It seemed like there was no way out of the room until San pointed out a door behind two heating containments. He continued as he turned the knob to the door, “even in the boiler room there is an exit.”

When he opened the door, light flooded the room and as soon as your eyes adjusted, you saw a brick wall across the ally the exit dumped into. Considering the entrance to the Train Station would be to the South, your left, you pulled San to the right, heading away from the building and farther away into cover. Once you hit the open streets, the two of you agreed to find a shop of some sort to act as tourists. The plan was to buy a few things inside one of the stores and act as if you were on vacation for your first time in Europe as a couple looking for an adventure. It wouldn’t be too hard to fool people with the dumb wow factored looks plastered across your faces and the clueless joy it was just seeing a house made with stucco concrete and rustic looking wooden houses.

“You make for a great tourist girlfriend,” San complimented as he handed you your ice cream and lit one of his cigarettes to inhale. Inside you felt your heart spike slightly followed by the urge to smack him. But on the outside, you remained calm, giving him a small closed off smile in return. “I know I lied to you, and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gone through with it.”

“So, you thought about it?” you asked him, the emotions from earlier coming back to the surface. This time it was anger but hurt. Now your feelings were hurt, and you felt like you weren’t important to the team if you were kept from big secrets. It was almost as if you couldn’t be trusted anymore and that it was safer and easier to move on with you in the dark. “I didn’t know you were thinking about hurting me.”

“Forget I said anything,” San mumbled, smoke falling from his lips. He then began walking a little bit ahead toward the hotel the two of you had chosen to stay at for the next two days. The faster you could get inside somewhere, the better your identities would be protected. A sigh left you as you watched him leave you to walk alone on the street. Your intentions weren’t to make him leave, but you were still mad at him.

“If only you had been honest with me then maybe I could trust you,” you said to yourself. You wanted to forgive him, but that would make him think that it was okay to lie to you at any time and that was the last thing you wanted. San was good at making sure not to repeat a mistake, and you were hoping that your anger would make that clear to him.

Eventually you got to the hotel and walked inside to see San up at the front desk, booking a room for the two of you to stay. The kind of room you wanted was one with two beds, but you couldn’t sell the couple trick if you got a room with two beds. Unfortunately. the enemy would be able to track down a reservation made by a man and woman; however, with you two being a couple they would never suspect anything unless they saw your faces. To ensure your safety, San looked back at you and held out his hand for you to take. Not feeling any resentment toward his caring side, you took his hand and laced it through yours. Oh, how you wished that the relationship you were pretending to have was real. That the boy holding your hand actually meant every squeeze and slow swinging of your hands together.

“Here is your key, and your room is 1117 on the third floor,” the man at the desk started, handing over a silver key with the hotels brand tied to the end, “breakfast is at eight o’clock and check out time is at twelve when you leave.”

“Thank you,” San nodded at the man, before leading the way to the stairs. Just before he reached them though, he put his cigarette out in a nearby ash tray to spare you. He let you go first, almost in a protective way; this meant he could keep his eye on you and make sure nobody tried to grab you. Not that you couldn’t handle yourself, it just made him feel better. San had no intention of letting go of your hand, even after everyone was out of sight. Something in him was stirring and he needed to address it as soon as you found your room.

“What was the number again?” you inquired, looking at room numbers as you passed them. It was something with three ones, but you couldn’t remember the last digit. If you were going to be honest with yourself, you had forgotten because San was still holding your hand and your mind was spinning its clogs to figure out why he was still attached to you even after everyone had disappeared.

“1117.”

Sure enough, the room number was a few doors down, screwed into the wall to represent its room. San took the key out of his pocket and inserted into the doorknob, turning it to the left and doing the same to the dead bolt but turning the key right. He retracted the key and turned the knob and pushed the door inward. Inside was a single queen bed, two nightstands on either side of the bed, a small balcony, and a bathroom. A television was mounted onto the wall opposite of the bed with a small shelf under it to hold the remote and DVD machine. It was dark, but that could be fixed by opening the curtains.

Slowly, you released San’s hand and walked over to the balcony doors where you opened the curtains and unlocked the doors to look outside. San watched you open the doors and look outside. The street was busy down below, but any conversation would have its privacy because of the height. A small table and two chairs sat to the left of the doors, fitting the hotel aesthetics perfectly. Inside, San had sat down on the bed, gazing out the doors at the building across the street as he thought over what he wanted to say. He didn’t want to say anything stupid and drive you farther away from him, but he needed to set his feelings for you straight or else he’ll drive himself crazy staying in the same room with you for the next forty-eight hours.

“Y/n,” he began, looking down at the floor to escape your reaction to him calling your name. It worked, because when you looked back, you couldn’t make eye contact with him. The way he had called your name was the way he had done when you both were in high school. It was inquisitive and gentle. He looked up and, in that moment, you became completely suspicious; he was looking at you like he did when he was being genuine with you. “Come here. Please.”

Cautiously, you turned and stepped off the balcony straight back into the room. It took a bit more urging, but you eventually stood a couple feet away from where he was sitting. Strangely he held out his hands for you to take and got up from the bed. Trust filled you as you allowed him to take your hands and hold them in his. You looked up at him to see his eyes close to tears, “San?”

Instantly, yet so tenderly, San placed his hands on your waist and walked you to his left where the closest wall was; he pressed you against it and moved one of his hands to your jaw where he lifted it to touch his lips with yours. His lips didn’t say on yours for long as he pulled away and searched your face for any sign of rejection. Confusion was all he saw, and that was enough for him to withdraw himself completely, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment. Frozen in place, your mind was battling with your heart on how to respond to what he had just done.

Slowly, almost impossibly slow, you slid down the wall until your butt hit the carpet. Truth be told, your heart was beating a thousand miles an hour and you didn’t know what to do. He had pulled away too soon and you hadn’t had the chance to kiss him back. All this time, you thought you wanted nothing to do with him and his new self, but the way he had kissed you was exactly how you had imagined it when you were in high school. Everything you had assumed about him now wasn’t in tune with what he had just given you.

San stood in the spot he had moved back to and watched you. He could see your mind turning in thought and he could only hope with his heart twisting in a desperate measure that what you were thinking about didn’t have a negative side to it. In reality, he had gone for the kiss, not thinking about what it might do to your friendship and that you might still be mad at him from earlier. This might be bad for him if things didn’t turn out the way he was hoping they would. When you didn’t respond to his action for a few minutes, San decided he needed to leave to avoid your judgment and his embarrassment.

“I’ll just…yeah,” he said, running his hand through his hair and retreating to the door. He looked desperate as he walked to his escape, but he wasn’t quick enough, because just as he opened the door, his heart filling with relief at the glance of the hallway, the door closed. San looked to his left where he saw a glittering silver ring resting on your index finger.

His body turned around carefully as his eyes met yours that were staring into his with something he had never seen before. Fear. The warm feeling of your left palm resting at the nape of his neck pulled him closer to you as you leaned up. What seemed like hours, but was only a few seconds, your lips finally pressed against his and stayed there until San couldn’t breathe. When he did pull back, only because he needed air, he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you against his chest; a dimple smile lit his face as he looked down at you before pecking your lips with a chaste kiss. He tasted of cigarette smoke and strawberries.

“Don’t go?” you requested, pleading with him to stay. His only response was another kiss; you took that as a yes.

The next morning, it was an hour and a half after dawn and you were sitting out on the balcony in a large t-shirt, enjoying a cup of coffee, provided by the coffee maker in the bathroom. It was bitter because there wasn’t any milk, but it helped you process what had happened over the last thirty-two hours. Nothing had gone your way. San had admitted to keeping the plan away from you, only because he couldn’t stand to see the disappointment in your eyes. It still didn’t change the hurt, but you were able to accept his apology and move on because you were at your wits end on fighting. Nothing made you more exhausted than arguing with him.

Last night, San made up his lies to you by cuddling with you on the bed and watching random shows on the tv. He ordered take-out by paying with cash so the two of you couldn’t be tracked, while you settled into the hotel room. Things were back to normal even though the two of you had matured for years after high school. Your mind had shut you out from seeing that San was still the same, just more evolved since you wanted to hold onto the past for as long as you could. Everything was going to be different, and to be honest you didn’t know where your relationship stood with San at the moment, but it had changed from where it was seven hours ago.

“Good morning,” a hazy voice greeted you from the door. San stood, leaning against the door frame with a black shirt and black joggers on as he ran his hand through his bed head. As if he had always done it, he leaned down and kissed the top of your head before sitting down next to you in the second chair.

“Morning,” you greeted back, looking back out into the quiet streets. Times like these were your favorite. The rising sun, a quiet street and company to share it with. It had been a long time since you had been this way, and you weren’t complaining that it was here now.

“What do you want for breakfast?” San questioned, leaning back into the seat while looking around at the neighboring buildings that rested quietly with sleeping people inside them. For a brief moment, you looked over at him to study the way he was in the morning. You’d seen him in the morning countless times in high school, but since then, you never saw him even an ounce close to sleep. Now that you finally had the chance, you could say that there wasn’t much change.

“I could go for some pancakes,” you suggested. San shook his head almost immediately in rejection. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion; pancakes were usually good for breakfast in the morning. “How about some cinnamon rolls?”

“No, I was thinking more about some Ice cream and cigarettes instead.”

“You cannot have ice cream for breakfast and that is a terrible combination!” you banned the idea right off the open branch. San pouted at your sadly, trying to win you over by his charming pitiful gaze. “San, there isn’t even any ice cream shops open at this hour and you know I don’t smoke.”

“Can we have ice cream on the pancakes?” he pushed, feeling hopeful that if it wasn’t just straight ice cream then maybe you’d be persuaded. This is what I mean when we have our disagreements that turn into massive arguments; it’s always something like this. You thought to yourself.

“Only if they have it,” you bargained, not wanting to give him the benefit of the doubt, much less think that he one the disagreement and get more terrible ideas for the future. Like he usually did.

“Still as controlling as ever!” he chimed, sighing dramatically, yet sarcastically, as he got up from his seat to walk back inside the room. You playfully rolled your eyes and his exclamatory statement. Faintly, you smelled the sharp smell of cigarette smoke and you’d be lying if you said he hadn’t lit one.

“And you’re still as petty as a child!” you called back with a respectively quiet tone, still being mindful of the sleeping souls around you. Not missing a beat, San reappeared outside on the balcony and kissed your lips lovingly. Joyfully, you returned the surprise and gave him a sweet smile when he pulled away to go back inside to get ready.

Fast forward to the next day, you and San had checked out of the hotel and began walking around the streets, navigating to the town square where you had agreed to meet up with the rest of the boys and devise a plan to get back home. The three gang leaders you had originally made plans with would most likely be raging with anger after San and his group didn’t show. That would mean more people targeting the nine of you and a harder chance of getting home. Nothing terrified you more than the idea of never going home again.

San led the way into the square; towns people were bustling around the place, going inside shops to buy things and others just trying to pass through with trucks. In the middle of the square stood tall fountain with a dedicated statue in the center that looked like a man helping a child stand up from the ground. Around the square were tall high-class buildings with small shops at the ground floor, supplying whatever business owned the building with more income. Trees helped shade the side walks and occasional flowerpots with endless colors filled inside near the middle, decorated areas in front of the shops. In the distance, you could hear a small street band playing cheerful music for a café somewhere down one of the streets leading away from the square.

“Where do you think they decided to meet up?” you asked San. He looked around for a second and then paused, pointing at a café with an outside seating area. Sure enough, Jongho and Yeosang were sitting with Seonghwa and Wooyoung at one of the large tables acting as if they were old friends catching up.

The two of you made the long way around the square, trying to buy some time and eventually ended up at the table. San halted in his steps and looked at the boys at their table before bursting out into a cheerful greeting as if he hadn’t seen them in years and it was a complete coincidence that he saw them. All four of them played along with the act and everything ran smoothly even after Mingi, Yunho, and Hongjoong arrived. All nine of you sat for a while, chatting about made up stories of hikes in cold mountains, and wonderful tours in poppy field up near Holland, site seeing in Italy and Greece, and riverboat ride through Amsterdam.

“There is a train leaving in two hours and it’s only stop is Paris,” Seonghwa explained quickly, researching on his phone for an escape out of this town. “That would be our best bet and then a team could come pick us up from there and we’d be home in no time.”

“Let’s do that then,” San settled the plan, knowing that it was definitely the only way out if they wanted to remain under cover for very long. “We’ll remain in our teams and board the train separately. When we arrive in Paris you know where to meet. Give it about an hour before you decide to move to that location, that way you’ll be able to tell if anyone is following you. I expect everyone to be alive when I see you again, don’t disappoint me.”

“Are you ready to go my love?” came San’s question, perking up everyone’s attention. They all looked over at the two of you suspiciously not knowing if it was an act or real. When San kissed your lips quickly to assure dominance, it soon became a known fact that it was indeed not an act.

“Did the two of you get sick?” Jongho asked, completely taken aback by the sudden actions made in front of him.

“Lovesick,” you replied causally as you looked over at San who was smiling at you, “Let’s just say that I do love him.”

San suddenly became serious. The two of you hadn’t say ‘I love you’ yet and his heart jumped at the sound of the words coming from your beautiful lips. He leaned in and gave you a tender chaste his, pulling back just enough to mumble, “I love you too.”

Seonghwa and Wooyoung were scheduled to leave first, giving the group a goodbye before walking away to find something else to do while they waited for the train to finish up preparing for a trip to Paris. Wooyoung leaned into Seonghwa who listened to what Wooyoung wanted to say. If he was leaning in to mumble it, there was a good chance he might get in trouble for saying it in the first place. When the two of them were fair enough from the table, Wooyoung said what he wanted to say.

“I preferred them arguing.”

310 notes · View notes