#speaking in code and failing to conceal shit immediately

[thankstothe]

aw, they're so stupid <3

[missinghan]

young & beautiful ⤖ lee felix

❖ genre : zombie apocalypse!au; punk! au

❖ word count : 13,1k.

❖ warning : explicit language, mentions of alcohol & violence 

❖ summary : you’ve always thought your soulmate was an idiot to not be there sooner but eventually, everything connects when it started with Lee Felix holding your best friend at gunpoint. 

one.

Jisung puffs his cheeks out and stares at his own reflection on the glass table. The bartender quickly comes back, pushing a tequila sunrise towards his direction. The boy takes an awful amount of time to study how the yellow, almost orange liquid bleeds into a deep red effortlessly. 

He shakes his bang away furiously, calling out for the bartender. “Uhm, I just ordered a Coke. Not this.” 

“Have a drink kid, it’s on me.”

He pushes the glass away. “No thanks.” 

“What kind of adult doesn’t drink alcohol in desperate times?” 

“Then what kind of bartender doesn’t run for his life when ravenous freaks are lurking the streets?”

The bartender tips his head back and laughs wholeheartedly. “Listen, kid. It’s either beating the shit out of someone or getting wasted to keep the little amount of sanity left on your mind. So I’m staying here for them alcoholics. Business is running low, not taking any risks.” He wipes his hand onto his white apron, throwing him a playful wink. “Call me if you need anything.” 

Jisung beams innocently. “Do you have a pencil? And paper too?”

“Jisung you can’t be serious, where are you?”

Minutes later, he’s starting to regret the questionable-looking sketch of a squirrel on the piece of paper that the bartender gave him. Instead, he presses the tip of the pencil harder onto the surface until it snaps in half, leaving the sharp wooden edges sticking out. He can kill the bartender with this if he decides to spike his drink, Jisung figures. He hesitantly brings the rim of the glass to his lips and takes the smallest sip possible. The burning sensation goes down his throat in matters of seconds. His entire windpipe feels like it’s on fire. 

“Hey, I need some water..” He chokes out as someone enters the bar. 

The bartender averts his gaze onto the new customer. “Cool, what about you?”

The unfamiliar figure sits beside him, murmuring. “I’m not here for the drinks, but him.” 

The bartender looks confused. “A water it is then?”

Jisung’s head starts spinning slightly, dizziness bubbling up inside his chest. He hiccups with the pencil held between his fingers. Something’s wrong with this man. He needs to get out of here, now. “Sorry, I don’t feel too well. I think I’ll get back to—“ Just when he slips himself off the stool, two other men appear out of nowhere and block his way as the first one firmly holds him in place by his shoulders. Jisung immediately turns to the bartender, signaling him to run with his eyes. And the bartender does as he insists. 

One of the thugs growls gruffly, making Jisung drop the black duffle bag in his hand. “You’re gonna have to pay for what you did, boy.”

“Hi, I’m Jisung. Sup guys?” 

“Did you just say ‘Hi, I’m Jisung’?”

Jisung grimaces as you hiss into the earpiece, the sound screeching against his eardrums. In which, it doesn't really help to cool the situation down. He drops onto his knees when a guy kicks him in the shin, face scrunching up in pain. One of the guys surrounded him hides behind a face mask, whipping out a dagger concealed in his sleeve. With a cheerful voice, “There’s nothing to be all grabby and stabby about.” Jisung gulps. He’d be lying if he said that he’s not about to piss his pants. 

“Uhm, do you like the color red?” 

The one who’s holding him down snaps, pulling his collar backward. “Shut it, twig.” He elbows him at the back of his head, earning a low, painful grunt. 

Jisung asks, as light as a feather, he’s trying too hard to form a proper sentence at this point. “What about coding? Do you like coding? You guys look pretty smart, you must be into coding.”

“Jisung, the hell-- CODE RED, JEONGIN, CODE RED! JISUNG’S IN TROUBLE!” 

He sighs in relief when you finally understand, limbs growing wobbly. 

“Han, get the hell out of there! I swear--”

Your words get cut off when a goon peels the earpiece away harshly, examining the device with an amused smirk. “Look at this toy, it might be pretty expensive.” Then, he looks at his gang member and cocks a brow. “Why don’t we just take him with us? He’ll lead us right back to their hiding spot.” His team quickly nod their heads in agreement, staring down at the blond-haired boy with mischievous eyes. 

With his head dangled low, Jisung’s limbs are giving in but the grip on the pencil never once loosens. “Okay..” He slowly looks up and shoots them a look, chuckling darkly. “This is gonna be fun.” In a split second, the sharp end of the pencil goes straight into the goon’s stomach, making him stagger backward and groan aloud in agony. Although Jisung’s frame is quite small compared to what a standard fighter needs to be, he never fails to take advantage of that. If he’s smaller, he’s gonna be faster than them. 

He sweeps a leg across the ground, one of the men falls onto his head, easily slipping into a good sleep until the zombies come in and take care of his unconscious body. Jisung catches the earpiece when it falls out of the goon’s hand. “Thanks, I’m gonna need my toy back.” Before he can slip the device on again, an arm sweeps under his feet and he lands right onto his bottom. “Using fire against fire. Smartass.” He mutters and clumsily props himself up from facepalming himself onto a pool of fresh blood that’s slowly seeping through the tiled floor. 

The only conscious goon smirks down at him. “I don’t like coding. But I do like the color red.” When Jisung flutters his eyes upwards, he’s met with a shiny metal blade, inevitable to drive down, straight into his chest, right through his heart. He automatically squeezes his eyes shut as an attempt to brace himself for the contact. 

“Hey asshole,” His eyes shoot open at the more than familiar voice. 

two.

You’re so screwed. You’re all fucking screwed. 

You’re not screwed because you completely forgot that you have four finals in a row next week. You’re not screwed because you broke your mom’s favorite mug or accidentally had a scratch on your dad’s car. Heck, you wish they could beat you with a wooden spoon right now. If only they’re still alive. You’d have your parents put you in timeout and fail four subjects all at once just so that everything can be normal again. 

In movies, particularly ‘Zombieland’ or ‘The Walking Dead’, humans are being controlled by a virus that turns you into a walking corpse that feeds off humans’ flesh. But, we naturally do have plenty of brain disorders that can do just that. However, none of those things were contagious in the first place. Until Mad Cow Disease came along. Who would have thought? Cows are simply being part of the food chain then an entire square block, forty bedrooms, and nineteen bathrooms; everyone in your neighborhood went apeshit after the steak they had for dinner. 

It’s a miracle how you even managed to run away without being bit by your own parents, who are now brainless serial killers. The idea of eating someone’s organs doesn’t seem too far-fetched anymore when you know that you’re only one brain chemical away from turning to a psychotic cannibal. That’s not even the irony of the whole situation. Irony, is how ready your current generation is for the end of the world, but not exams. 

Hence, you’re gonna throw a birthday party for one of your best friends like nothing’s ever happened. Except for the fact that you’ll have to lure him out of the sanctuary while the others are working on the surprise. 

Now you’re sitting in an abandoned bar, attempting to cheer your friend up with a shot of whiskey. You’ve never really liked the idea of being inside a bar before. Drowning yourself in alcohol and letting the night snatch your consciousness away as you sway your body along with bad EDM, going deaf with laughter and music banging against your eardrums? Not ideal. But now, it’s all empty. The neon lights are hanging by a single cable, wallpapers chipping off with discolorations soaking through the wall. The once infamous bar where students used to get wasted every weekend is now dead. Both literally and metaphorically. You’re not complaining anyway. 

“Hey Jeongin,” you speak up lowly. “Have you ever hit a girl before?” You run your tongue over the cut right on your bottom lip, tasting the coppery blood in boredom. 

Jeongin stares blankly at the glass of whiskey that you just offered him, studying the yellowish component closely. “No? Why would I?” He looks up and almost freezes to death with the look that you’re throwing his way. He can’t tell whether you’re mad or not because you’re that type of person who doesn’t necessarily need to go all furious or mad to scare the shit out of someone. 

“No? Oh, don’t mind me,” you shake your head, low chuckles vibrating through your chest capacity. “I was just gonna ask you how it feels. You know, to kick someone in the gut or punch them in the face when you know they’re clearly not your size.” You sigh and prop your head onto your hand, eyes slightly heavy from the alcohol kick. It’s been a while since you’ve messed with these things. “Right, sorry. Not my point. My point is: stop being a big baby and get out there, talk it out with Jisung you little shit!”

The boy in front of you quickly looks away when you stare him dead in the eye. He swallows heavily, picking at the ripped part of his jeans. “I’m not gonna talk it out with him. That was stupid, irresponsible and reckless. He could have just let it be and not have his jaw broken. He was supposed to sneak in, get out, and act like nothing’s ever happened. Instead, he got caught at a bar, waved at them and even said ‘Hi, I’m Jisung’. He didn’t even get anything but got you in danger! Look at you! Minho would kill us if he saw you with a thousand arrow wounds like this!” He throws his hands upwards and cries out. “I swear to God, I’d never sign up to save his ass, ever, again. I swear—“

You clear your throat, wordlessly dropping a black duffel bag onto the counter with a loud thud. Jeongin’s mouth forms an ‘o’ as his hands automatically unzip the bag, revealing an awful amount of weapons: shotguns, rifles, knives, crowbars, etc. Heck, even some food. God, Jeongin can’t even remember the last time he’s had a proper meal. He subconsciously runs his hand along the matte-finished surface of a firearm, a retort lingering on the tip of his tongue. “Wow,” he utters. “He really— he got them.” 

“He did.” You cock a brow, leaning forward and zip the bag up again. “And tell you what, even if you’re not gonna be there when Jisung makes a bad decision again, I will. Because you know damn well that there’s nothing in this world that he wouldn’t hesitate to do as long as your little junkie ass is safe.”

“HEY, WE CAN TALK THIS OUT, CHILL—“

“I said hands up! DROP THE GUN!”

“Chan, DON’T DO IT!”

You and Jeongin quickly collect yourselves, scrambling out of the bar. When the door swings wide open, you’re met with Jisung on his knees, hands behind his head, his Benelli M4 abandoned by a water bottle near the entrance. Meanwhile, there are two other guys who seem like they’re talking amongst themselves as they hold your best friend at gunpoint. Your fingers hover over the pistol in your back pocket, mentally debating if you should engage or not. 

The more you’re lost into your own thoughts, the more you find yourself staring at the pink-haired boys standing beside the brunette one, who’s having a handgun, pointing right at Jisung. The freckled boy has you drawn into him like instant gravity because suddenly, it feels like the world stops spinning when he looks up and accidentally meets your eyes. That’s when you take a closer look at his features. Perfect dark eyebrows, bright beady eyes, and prominent Cupid’s bow. His freckles are what throw you off, making it possible to look away because they’re like embers of disintegrated supernovas, scattered across the universe for eternities. 

“Everyone calm down!” You snap out of it and break eye contact. As much as you’d love to stare at the freckled cutie all day, you’re gonna cut him in his sleep if he dares to put a finger on Jisung. “Lay off my friend. Now.” You declare and receive attention from the brunette as he tells you off with his eyes. 

The guy who you assume is called, Chan jerks his head towards Jisung. “Tell your friend that it’d be nice if he could give it back.” 

“Give what back?” You turn to Jisung. “Han, we’ve talked about this. We don’t steal from anyone, besides street gangs.” You tell him firmly, motioning for him to hand over whatever the fuck of a thing that those two strangers need because him getting killed for something as childish as a slice of cheesecake is gonna drive you nuts. 

Jisung opens up his left palm and shows you a silver wedding band, smiling awkwardly as you hold yourself back from decking him in the face. “Look, I was just looking around and I found this thing, and I got curious then they just came back and deadass threatened me with their guns!” He adds in. “I don’t know what’s the big deal with this ring anyway. Looks like someone bought it on eBay.” 

“Say that again, I dare you.” Chan tightens his grip on the gun and clicks in a bullet. As soon as you hear the bullet being locked in to the chamber, your hand automatically flies to your back pocket and pulls out your pistol. You directly aim at his head, finger trembling over the trigger when you switch off the safety catch. “Give-it-back,” Chan says through gritted teeth. 

“Jisung..” You warn him. 

Jisung protests. “Like hell I would.”

“I never miss, just throwing that out there,” Chan says indifferently

“I SAID PUT THE GUN DOWN.”

“ENOUGH!” Jeongin snaps, catching all of you off guard. “We are surrounded by mindless cannibals over here! We all went through it, we all were there when our family turned into those monsters, we all had those times where we had no place to go, no food to eat, no friends to be there for us. Don’t we have enough problems? For fuck’s sake look at us! Is pointing guns and yelling at each other gonna bring the good days back? So would you guys just stop it? We’re a bunch idiots trying to kill each other when the end is fucking near! Can’t we just be friends and play some dumbass games like ‘20 Questions’ like decent human beings while we’re driving them back to the safehouse ?” 

You stare at him in awe for a moment there, your muscles relaxing and giving up on the gun. Jeongin gives Chan a Look, chest heaving up and down in pure furiosity. Sometimes the idea of surviving does mess with your mind, forgetting that people are still people. They’re just like you. They’ve gone through some pretty bad shits too. 

Chan retrieves his weapon, sighing. “Sorry, we really mean no harm. It’s just that we need it back.” He scratches his neck sheepishly as two dimples are fully on display. He’s not so scary when he smiles after all. 

 “I’m gonna have to confiscate that for the time being.” You snatch the piece of jewelry from Jisung’s hand. “We’ll talk about this when you guys are back at our base.” 

“But—“

“Chan, let her. It’s fine.” The freckled boy interrupts him. 

You look at him and subconsciously smile. “Oh? I’m sorry, does this belong to you? Aren’t you scared that I’m gonna throw this pretty little thing away later?” 

He replies with mild interest. “I don’t think you’d wanna do that, you could have just kept it to yourself.” 

“No, Charming. It’s not my style.” You voice as you stare down at the ring, studying every little detail carefully. The silver band is exquisite with a sterling double knot, adding a unique touch to the elegant simplicity of the ring. You think you’re already falling in love, but are you really gonna tell him that? Most definitely not. “Yep, not my style. And I’ll throw it away someday, that’s for threatening my friend.” 

He makes a face and takes a few steps towards you. “I have a name.”

“Don’t care. ‘Charming’ suits you pretty well.” 

“It’s Felix. You’re welcome.” He grins, offering you a hand. You decide to take it, kind of taken aback when knowing that his hand is a lot smaller compared to the average guys’. “And I wouldn’t worry about that, you won’t be going home with it anyway. ‘Cause I’ll always find you, always.” He squeezes your hand a little bit too tight for your liking, making you flinch. 

Little did you know, behind his back, Felix’s counting down from one two three with his fingers, Chan watching him closely with his gun ready. 

Three. 

Two. 

One.

Jisung quickly notices and reaches out to you. “Y/N!” And one single shotgun rings through the area. 

three.

On the outskirts of the once stellar city, lies a warehouse in a not so stellar neighborhood. Dead leaves are falling onto the ground, scraping against the concrete surface, and sending chills down people’s spine. It’s like they’re not even trying to grow properly even when it’s not halfway through spring yet. The eerie atmosphere is just another reason for people to not wander around for too long, as if they’d have the gut to come there in the first place. But it’s still a zombie apocalypse, there are worse things that could happen either way. 

You’d be surprised at what people can do when they’re dangling off the fingertips of Death. 

People would never guess what’s hidden behind the crooked door. A living room fully equipped with an outdated couch and broken TV, a kitchen with everything but a fridge. Further into the safe house is a bedroom big enough for ten people to fit in, a storage room full of firearms and weapons. Last but not least, security cameras and monitors are set up all around the base, to be more secure. No zombies in this household. It took you and the guys forever to collect enough materials. The only thing that you’re constantly running low on is food. 

And turns out Jisung calling your name wasn't the last thing you’d heard. 

“Ugh, Minho, get me water,” You groan loudly before wagging your hand around like a madwoman. Once you feel the cool metal surface on the nightstand, you quickly check your own reflection. Needless to say, you’re horrified at what you saw. Absolutely terrifying, yes. Hair falling onto your face, tiny scratches scattered across your cheekbones as they leave an itchy sensation of your skin. Fortunately, the cut on your lips is already cleaned, and your bruises are starting to fade. But what sucks is the constant banging effect on your temple, an imminent pain that’s threatening to swallow you whole. 

Yeah, this is why you never drink. 

“Minho, water..” Your whimper grows smaller and smaller towards the end as your hand gives up on holding onto your phone. “Is this what whiskey does to the human body?” You smack your lips together as the bitter taste seeps through your taste buds more deeply, choking on the alcohol smell in your own throat. 

Minho takes long strides into the bedroom with a bowl of piping hot soup. “Whiskey contains almost no sugar, can reduce blood clots, decreases your chances of getting a heart attack, even a stroke, fights cancerous cells and..” He pauses before wiggling his eyebrows. “Helps you perform better in bed.” He chuckles when you bury your face under your blanket, cheeks tinted pink. He will never not get you with his less than appropriate comments. 

“You’re gross.” 

Minho smirks. “Low blow.” He cranes his neck tiredly, lips curling upwards into a small smile. “You’re quite lucky. Whoever was trying to kill you missed.” 

Your brows automatically knit together as you try to gather the small pieces of memories your brain can muster. Everything that happened yesterday seems too cloudy for you to comprehend, but you could never forget the moment Chan’s bullet missed you by a strand of hair, piercing straight into the plexiglass window right behind you to catch you off guard. Next thing you know, Felix kicked the back of your knees, having you land on buckling ankles. 

You tell Minho sternly. “If he wanted me dead, I wouldn’t have come back in one piece.” You hold in a breath, in disbelief of your own words. “He spared my life, believe it or not.” Chan let you go, but why would he? You did piss him and his friend off intentionally because you never know what you’re getting yourself into. 

Minho figures you might have hit your head somewhere, so he places your food on the nightstand and scoffs. “Eat up, you’re talking a shit ton for someone who almost died.”

“Where’s Han?” You gladly receive the bowl of soup with two hands, mouth watering slightly since you haven’t eaten since yesterday. 

As if on cue, you can hear Jisung shrieking from downstairs. “NO NO NO! DON’T SHOOT ME WITH MY OWN GUN!” 

You and Minho exchange a look before rushing outside, dashing towards the living room. “Oh, you gotta be shitting me.” The commotion inside has your jaw dropped to the floor. Again, Jisung is held at gunpoint for the fourth time of the week, you’re quite surprised that his head hasn’t been blown into bits yet. With the gun pressed against his temple, beside him is the freckled boy from yesterday. Felix, if you’re not mistaken. Chan’s here too, neither of them is looking too happy. If Hyunjin was here seeing two strangers try to threaten his best friend, he’d definitely go apeshit. 

“Woah woah, what’s the problem here?” Your brother, Woojin comes out from the kitchen with wide eyes and two glasses of water in his hands. “Lix, put the gun down.” He tells the younger boy firmly, but Felix doesn’t even move an inch.  

He cocks his head towards Jisung, a scowl adorning his soft features. “It wouldn’t have to be like this if your friend here didn’t steal my ring. Twice.” 

“Jisung, seriously?” You facepalm yourself. You can still vividly remember how Felix snatched the piece of jewelry away from your palm when your face smacked the ground. And now Jisung decided to take it back? Without your consent? You’re not taking a bullet for him, not this time. 

Jisung puts his hands up in defeat. “Okay okay, I have a confession.” He inhales. “I sold it.” Just when you thought things can’t possibly get any worse. 

“What?!” You and Felix exclaim simultaneously. 

Felix tongues the inside of his cheek in annoyance. “Come here, tell you what..” 

The moment Jisung takes a step towards him, Felix takes his hand in a little bit too abruptly. He twists it at a weird angle, making Jisung wince. “That, is for selling the ring.” He presses your friend harshly against the coffee table, the handle of the gun secured on the nape of his neck, and you grimace at the sight. But also, you’re low-key enjoying this. “And that, is for being a little shit. You’re coming with me tomorrow, no negotiation.” 

Felix soon lets go when your brother glares at him, smiling softly, warm brown eyes twinkling like a starry night. Jisung backs away almost immediately in caution when he offers to pull him upright and cowers behind Minho. You can tell that he’s terrified of the seemingly harmless freckled boy now. This is what he gets for never learning, he’s made a grave mistake to touch someone’s property in the middle of an apocalypse, where everyone’s more than ready to tear each other apart when they’re pissed about off about something as little as being hangry. “Huh, you’re not very into handshakes then. Don’t you want your gun back too?” He puts his hands into the pockets of his jeans, turning to meet Woojin’s eyes. 

“Alright, we’ll have to talk about this later.” Your brother merely sneers at Jisung. “I’ll reintroduce you guys. Y/N, my sister.” He motions towards you before averting his attention to the other two. “That’s Minho, find him if you’re injured or need someone to knock some solid logic into your head.” Sighing, he runs a hand through his hair. “And the moron who, uh, robbed you is Jisung. He’s a really good guy, I swear. His hands are apparently faster than his brain.” 

Chan speaks up dryly. “So he’s a doctor, and a part-time therapist.” Minho nods satisfactorily. “And he’s an idiot.” Jisung just smiles awkwardly because he’s not planning on getting his ass kicked again. At least not for the time being. 

You interject, still drowning in confusion. “Wait, you know him?” 

“Yeah, he’s the son of our parents’ former business partners. You guys used to hang out as toddlers.” Woojin says. 

You widen your eyes. “What?” You can’t believe it. Felix is ridiculously attractive (you’d hate to admit that in front of him) so hanging out with a boy this cute, even not for long would still definitely leave you with some kind of impression. There’s no way this charming guy had witnessed those times where you’re still taking medicine by swallowing them down with chocolate pudding. You’d rather bury yourself alive at this point. 

“The Lees made that?” You gasp.

Woojin nods reluctantly. “They sure did.” 

Felix takes a few steps forward and looks down at you, decreasing the distance between your faces. His minty breath fans your face and leaves you flustered within seconds. “Long time no see, Princess. Told you I will always find you.” He throws you a wolfish wink, proceeding to walk past you to go upstairs with Chan following him after. 

“Hey! I still want my gun back!” Jisung yells after him. 

The pet name that rolled off his tongue effortlessly sends your heartbeat over the edge. It’s beating vigorously inside your rib cage, louder than when your parents were about to eat you alive, louder than when you were kicked to the curb by some random mobs, so loud that you’re afraid everyone’s gonna hear it. It’s only your second encounter and he’s already messing with your heart just by simply existing as he is. 

Jesus fucking Christ. Now, you’re really screwed. 

Because falling for someone during an apocalypse is just another fucked up version of every rom-com to ever exist. Or maybe a knocked-off version of Warm Bodies, except Felix isn’t a zombie.

Yet.

four.

You wake up today feeling quite at peace for once in a while since the zombies outbreak only to find out that Jisung is heading outside to search for medicine with Minho. Meaning, drum rolls, you’re having the honor to go with Prince Charming aka Lee Felix and retrieve his stupid ring. You’re far too mad at Woojin to even finish the can of tuna that he kindly offered. Instead, you decide to bolt outside as soon as possible before you accidentally murder your brother. 

“Get in Princess, we don’t have all day!” Felix calls out loudly as he repeatedly honks his car. Admittedly, you’re quite impressed that he managed to find a whole ass Jeep in the middle of this ghost town. 

You enter the car, almost gasping at how good of a condition that this car is still in. Whoever owned this vehicle previously, God bless them because they definitely did a great job at keeping it nice and clean. There are no questionable items lying on the floor or inside one of the cabinets, the AC is still working, the radio isn’t showing those creepy statics sounds that never fail to chill you to the bones. 

Felix perks a brow in amusement. “It’s mine, by the way, I did a great job at keeping it clean huh?” When you give him nothing but a scowl, he chuckles lightheartedly and starts the engine. “Buckle up, I don’t want you to suddenly fly out of the window or anything.”

“Oh, you’re pretty shit at driving then.” You comment flatly, making an effort to avoid his eyes. They keep drawing you in even at the slightest chance. You’re not falling into that downward spiral again, nope, never. But you can’t help but notice how he still looks good in a bomber jacket with a simple tee underneath, tucked neatly inside his ripped jeans. 

Upon your cold response, Felix’s smile remains still on his lips. “Said someone who can’t even drive.” He snickers somewhat sarcastically. Wow, do you miss bickering with Minho about his three spoiled cats. 

“Sure, hand over the keys unless you want us both to play tennis with Hitler in the afterlife.” You protest with as much sarcasm. God, it’s been two minutes into the ride and the amount of willpower you’re mustering right now to not grab him by the collar and yank his ass out of this car is actually terrifying. But doing that can potentially threaten your own life so indeed, you’re starting to wonder if that’s gonna be the wisest decision. “What’s the big deal with that ring anyway? Can’t you just break into some jewelry store and find another one that you like?”

Felix looks into the distance, his smile faltering. “My mom wanted me to give it to the girl that I’m willing to spend the rest of my life with. Even when things are fucked up, like right about… now..” He tells you sternly with a hint of sadness in his tone, his warm brown eyes are now cloudy. It’s hard to break through the wall that he’s trying to build, but you don’t think you both are close enough to talk about these things anyway. 

If anything, you should try to lighten up the mood. “Good luck with that. Because the only thing you’re gonna be willing to live with now is a gun and those packets of Tim Tam Slam.” 

He turns sideways to make eye contact with you for a split second before averting his gaze back on the road. So you actually pay attention to the little details. “Call it.” Felix smiles again, and somehow, you feel like a weight is being lifted off your chest. “And mind you, I have a fiancé. Well, more like ‘had’ but whatever, doesn’t matter, same thing.” 

You nearly choke on your own saliva, eyes as wide as a goldfish’s. “You have a what?!”

“Relax, haven’t you heard of an arranged marriage before?” He looks at you as if you’re some kind of alien species from outer space. “I was gonna give the ring to her but bummer, your friend just had to sell it.”

Arms crossed over your chest, you hold back a chuckle with a hand secured on your mouth. “Wow..” You manage to choke out between giggles. “You must be getting something impressive to be able to agree to marry a goody-two-shoes who owns more money than what she knows to do with.”

“Pardon?” Felix snorts involuntarily. “What does that suppose to mean? Are you insulting my marriage?”

‘Insulting’ is an understatement for an entire lecture that you’ve already planned out in your head that you’re about to give him a piece of but you don’t think he’s ready for that just yet. Instead, you counter softly. “Not quite, but for the most parts, yeah, I guess I am.” He tightens his grip on the steering wheel and proceeds to throw daggers towards your direction with his eyes every three seconds. “But let me ask you this. If you wanna give that ring to your fiancé so badly, then do you really love her? Or is everything just a contract so that you won’t put your parents’ company at risk?” 

A comfortable silence falls upon the both of you as Felix starts replaying your words over and over again in his mind. He’s never the type to go out and about, looking for love like it’s the only purpose of his life. He’s never dated anyone before. He used to believe that love always comes at the most unexpected moment for the longest time and he should be waiting, not searching. He didn’t think much about the arranged marriage either. She was a nice girl, but they’ve only talked twice, and nothing really clicked like how he imagined love would feel like. Felix knew, he knew deep down that it wouldn’t work out after all but he was just too much of a coward to admit it. But your words hit differently, imprinting him with a little something called ‘reality’. 

Everything’s kinda screwed right now, no one knows how much longer humanity can keep up with this whole survival situation. Living on the streets, and can never get a good night's sleep. Although it does sting a bit knowing that he might die alone on this planet, it definitely gives him another point of view to look at the relationship between him and his fiancé. He doesn’t even want to imagine living in the same house with her at this point. 

“Your mom wanted you to give it to someone special right?” You tell him softly, a hand brushing over his as an attempt to soothe the ache in his chest. “Then you gotta find them. It’s not over yet. But that doesn’t mean there’s much time left. You don’t have to keep running towards something that isn’t worth it in the first place anymore.” You pause for a moment, lips curling upwards. “Because if we cease to believe in love, why would we want to live?”

Felix bursts into laughter and brushes your hand off of him. “Ew! You stole that from a movie and it’s not even good. Jesus Y/N, get some counseling.”

“Don’t shit on my pop culture references like that you uncultured swine.” 

“Just don’t do that again.”

You roll your eyes at him. “One more word and I’ll burn you down with this Jeep.” And he just smirks at you because he knows for sure that you won’t have the heart to destroy such a good car when the world is literally falling apart. Because chances are, you hate your dad’s old grey Innovator that only pumps lukewarm air inside the vehicle. In which, isn’t the most ideal thing for an apocalypse. But Woojin loves that thing far too much to throw it away so you’ve never had the heart to tell him to. 

Felix calmly parks on a random sidewalk before taking the key and exits the car. “We’re here.” You follow him not long after, eyes squinted due to the brightness of the daylight. Even though you’re barely seeing anything, you can’t seem to recognize this neighborhood. And it doesn’t look very sketchy either, pretty mediocre to say the least. You can’t seem to remember if Woojin has taken you here or not. And you’re starting to wonder how many zombies are hiding behind those buildings, seeing your scent as a solution for their never-ending thirst. Who the hell did Jisung sell that ring to?

Felix narrows his eyes and spots something in the distance. “Y/N, are you seeing this?” You quickly stand beside him, and slowly, a slouched figure comes into view. “I’ll take care of that.” He places a hand on your shoulder when the figure picks up its pace, the muscles on your back tense up at his touch. “Trust me, I’m not gonna accidentally blow your head into bits.”

“Down!” 

You quickly duck and slide yourself across the concrete surface in time before Felix can swing the baseball bat straight into your face. The bat comes in contact with the zombie harshly enough to knock it backward, onto her bottom. You and Felix look at each other for a solid three seconds before approaching the zombie again, examining her more closely. Her once blond hair is now doused in nothing but blood, sticking to her face and neck. Both of her lips are completely distorted as if another zombie gave her the kiss of Death (quite literally) as a welcome ritual. Suddenly, she jolts up from her lying position, hands wagging in midair to grab onto something. 

You jump backward on instinct as Felix brings the baseball bat down again, and again, and again until you can’t even make out the horrendous features of the zombie anymore. He scrunches his nose at the smell of the poisoned blood and tosses the metal bat away. “Never hurts to double-tap, better not get blood on my white Jeep.” 

You blurt subconsciously. “Impressive, Charming.” Okay but in your defense, Felix just smacked the hell out of the zombie with a baseball bat, he basically saved your life. Although you’re fully capable of protecting yourself, that was pretty hot. 

He’s too busy fixing the sleeves of his shirt but his eyes immediately light up at your words. “Say that again?”

“In your freaking dreams, Lee.” 

Felix pulls you in and ruffles your hair, rocking you side to side happily. “Don’t be so uptight! Complimenting me once in a while wouldn’t kill anyone now, would it?” When he’s too immersed in annoying the shit out of you, something falls out of his pocket with a small ‘clang’. 

“Wait, you dropped something—“ You manage to wiggle out of his embrace and bend down to pick it up, and your mind just stops. “Felix…isn’t that your ring?”

five. 

“Jesus Christ!” Woojin almost yells when he sees a black-eyed Felix exiting the kitchen with an ice pack on his right hand, lips swollen with several cuts across his face. “What happened to you?”

You walk into the living room not long after, tiny scratches are scattered all over your pale knuckles, blood trickling down on your cheeks like you’ve been crying red. “Okay,” Woojin shakes his head, pushing himself up from the beige-colored couch. “What the fuck happened to the both of you?”

“I punched him in the face.” “She punched me in the face.” The both of you confess in sync, exchanging questionable looks before turning away from each other. 

“And why is there blood on your face again?” Woojin swears, if Felix dares to touch you, he will put his head on a chopping block, not to mention hurting you. 

You shrug back, grabbing a water bottle from the coffee table and chug on it generously. “It’s not mine.” Without turning your head, you hand the bottle over to Felix. The boy gladly receives it, downing the whole thing left in one go. “Anyway, some mobsters appeared out of nowhere and they wanted his stupid ring. I got my ass kicked for a goddamn piece of jewelry, twice.” You merely glare at Felix who’s applying pressure to the cool pack of ice against his bruised eye, wincing every once in a while. He does feel kinda guilty, believe it or not. Maybe lying wasn’t the best option to get you to hang out with him more. There’s no way you two could have died back there, but he would be more than ready to throw the ring away for the sake of your safety. 

But either way, Jisung’s gonna be dead meat to you after this. 

“You do realize that we just kissed indirectly right?” Felix laughs when you chuck the now empty water bottle at him, hissing in anger. He’s acting like such a Lee, irritating, and carefree most of the time. In which, makes you wanna kill him with your bare hands even more in these kinds of situations. “Come here, a princess shouldn’t have blood on her pretty face.” He manages to turn you around and face him as he pulls out a handkerchief from his pocket. When he leans down slightly to wipe the crimson stickiness away, your once tense muscles now relax, loosening themselves. 

Within this proximity, you’re able to take a closer look at his starry eyes with long lashes framing them perfectly, his cute button nose, his peachy lips and how his freckles are more beautiful than anything you’ve seen before. One of his hands holds your neck in place while the other is secured on your waist so it’s easier for him to get a better angle. Felix furrows his brows every now and then, being careful and gentle at the same time to get rid of the blood off your face completely. He did pull you into doing the dirty business after all. Might as well make up for it. 

You didn’t push him away because this feels...safe, and right. He makes you feel at ease after the longest time, it’s like nothing you’ve experienced before. Not even your brother can possess this sense of comfort in his presence. It almost makes you smile which is seemingly paradoxical because forty minutes ago, you were figuring out ways to hide a corpse since you couldn’t stand his nosy ass for much longer. 

“Ew, I’m getting out of here. I can’t bear seeing this.” Woojin makes a gagging noise before stumbling out of the living room with his cup of espresso, leaving you and Felix alone in the living room. A muffled silence occurs for the next thirty seconds. 

“There,” He clears his throat before pulling away. “Done.” 

You look away. “Thanks, you didn’t have to do that though.”

“Anything for my princess.”

You ignore his cheeky smile before rummaging through the wooden drawers. “Sit down.” You demand once you pull out a mini first aid kit, Minho always keeps those randomly around the house just in case. One can never be too careful after all. Felix does as you say, taking a seat on the couch. He watches you taking out a cotton swab with a bottle of sanitizing solution. “Lean in.” You command while dipping the cotton swab into the solution, his hand brushing over your thigh accidentally. 

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” You shake your head as an attempt to hide the coral tint on your cheeks. “This is gonna hurt though…” You warn him, cotton swab hovering over one of the cuts on his cheeks. Felix nods obediently, clenching his fists and squeezes his eyes shut to brace himself for the burn. He can’t gush over how cute you look anymore since he’s secretly terrified of cleaning wounds. But who isn’t?

You smirk internally. “Okay, I’m gonna count down from three to one.”

“Three..” A single drop of cold sweat rolls down on his temple. 

“Two..” He holds his breath. But before he can react properly, you’re already pressing the cotton swab onto his wound, your other hand pinning his down firmly. “Felix quit moving already! How old are you for fuck’s sake?!” You laugh wholeheartedly, struggling to hold him in place while cleaning his opened cuts with the solution. 

Felix shrieks like a little child. “Ah! Ow! Y/N! Ah! Y/N! Y/N, I SWEAR TO GOD!” He succeeds in pulling away after a good three minutes, the burn from the alcohol feels like there’s fire coursing through his veins, burning a hole right through his skin. He’s not doing that ever again. “That hurt like a motherfucker.” Whimpering, his brows are knitted together in agony when you put a bandage over the wound. “You didn’t even finish counting, I hate you.”

 “There there you big baby.” Smiling at him, your hand gently caresses his calloused ones. It doesn’t take him long to realize how soft your hands are, and how cold they are compared to him too. So he decides to link your fingers together, hoping to give you some of his warmth. You completely freeze at his action and choose to look anywhere but his eyes, from the broken TV to the random magazines on the coffee table and his shiny pistol next to them. 

Felix brushes his thumb over the back of your hand and chuckles. “See, you do know how to smile. It’s not that hard to smile in front of me after all, is it?” He brings your knuckles to his lips and peppers small kisses over them lovingly. It makes his heart crack a little upon seeing them all scratched up, because of him. Little actions like this always make you feel fuzzy on the inside, especially when it comes from someone like Felix? You’re done for. 

“I didn’t see this. I’ve never seen this. I’m not seeing this. I will never see this again.” He pulls away shyly when Jisung starts teasing you both as he passes by the living room from upstairs. Oh right, weren’t you planning on decking his face for setting you on a ‘date’ with a guy you hardly know only after three solid days when he kicked your ass?

“HAN JISUNG GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE!” 

six.

Falling for Lee Felix is scarier than getting infected with the Mad Cow Disease (or Mad Zombie Disease). It’s official. But knowing the basic bitch that you are, being loopy in love with him is quite inevitable. There’s no use fighting against fate anyway, still, you’re going to postpone it for as long as you can because you definitely don’t wanna get too attached during an apocalypse. 

Sadly, having Felix share a room with Chan right beside yours doesn’t exactly help you avoid him. He always roams the house half-naked at night like he’s trying to put his chiseled abs up for auction after every shower. One time he almost gave you a cardiac arrest when you found him rummaging through the fridge at two in the morning without a shirt on. There were some nights where you didn’t even get a wink of sleep because Chan and he were too busy jamming to music even though they know that the walls in this house are clearly paper-thin. However, you chose to let them slide for the sake of Jisung’s and Minho’s so-called ‘beauty sleep’ aka their spontaneous cuddle sessions throughout the day. That’s only an excuse to avoid him even more. 

Felix obviously knows what’s up, so he’s been acting extra annoying these days to get your attention. He keeps popping his head inside your room (which was initially a storage room but you insisted on having it since you didn’t want to share your questionable sleeping habits with any of the guys) and asks for random stuff that never seems to make sense. Like who needs a fucking stapler when the whole world is falling into a crisis? You still kept yourself together and didn’t throw hands at him because you’re not planning on giving him what he wanted. 

But what Felix wants? Felix gets. 

“Good morning Princess..” He half-whispers and half-singsongs after shutting the door of your room with his foot. “Thank fucking God.” He mentally bows to whatever gods up there that’s pushing their blood family feud aside to bless him for the day. You’re still fast asleep, snoring softly with your grey blanket wrapped around your body. 

He’s impressed by how you still manage to not wake up early every other day because there’s no curtain unlike his room so the sunlight can easily peer right through, casting a delicate light on your figure. Surprisingly, you don’t sleep like Chan, with his leg dangling off the edge of the bed and his blanket’s on the floor by the time the sun rises again. You sleep with four limbs curled inwards, hands grabbing two full fists of the grey fabric like a puppy. 

He also notices how you’re still keeping pictures of your childhood memories on one of the empty bookshelves. There’s one with you and Woojin standing in the middle of Time Square when you both came to the States. And there’s another one where you’re dressed up as Harley Quinn with Hyunjin as the Joker on your right, Jisung as Rick Flag to your left and your brother as Deadshot squatting on the ground for your senior year’s Halloween party. Although you’re more of a Marvel gal yourself. 

“Y/N...” Felix whispers softly as he sits down on your bed, careful not to wake you up. His original plan to have you chase him up and down the house is already going down the drain since he really doesn’t want to ruin a good night's sleep. Chan has done that to him one too many times and he sure knows the consequences. Heck, Chan might not even see him after this. 

Felix outstretches his hand carefully, caressing your cheekbone like you’re made of glass. He can’t help but act like a creep because you’re too cute for your own good when you’re sleeping. It’s kinda nice actually, to not have you yelling at him for not putting clothes on right after his shower or wrestling him to the floor whenever he headlocks you at the most random times. 

Suddenly, your eyes shoot open. The moment you see another human being’s presence in your own personal bubble, you automatically grab him by the neck before pinning him down onto the bed, locking his arms behind his back. “Ow! Ow! Dude, chill!” Felix cries out from underneath you, struggling to breathe properly when you’re practically crushing his lungs. Okay, he definitely did not see that coming. 

“My goodness, what are you doing here?!” You gasp in realization, pushing yourself off the bed. 

“Woojin- said-“ he chokes out between uneven breaths. “I could- come in- and wake you up.” 

You cross your arms and sigh. “Yeah, come in.” You say with expressive hands. “Not touching me without my consent.” 

He winces at the red marks across his wrists. “Since when can you fight someone like that?” Yeah, those aren’t going away anytime soon. 

“What part of ‘Zombie Apocalypse Self-Learn Defense Basics 101’ don’t you understand?” You yawn tiredly before running a hand through your bed head. “Anyway, what do you want?” 

Felix beams innocently, taking in the sight of your pajamas. “Your attention.” And you internally thank your brother for not doing laundry yesterday (water’s also running low), which means you had to borrow Minho’s PJs instead of wearing your Mickey Mouse sweatpants with the tank top from your old basketball team.  

You really don’t have time for this, you think. Coldly, “Why?” you fake a lifeless smile. 

“You’ve never spoken to me since the day when those mobsters beat the shit out of us.” He pouts like a sad kitten. “Look, I know that it’s my fault okay? I’m sorry. But I really just wanted to hang out with you. If you didn’t play hard to get, you would have saved us a trip to some sketchy neighborhood.” 

You stop him right there. “First of all, I did talk to you. Just a maximum of five words per day. And secondly, they didn’t beat the shit out of us, we made them run back to wherever they came from, crying for their mommy while soiling their pants.” 

“There!” He exclaims. “You said it yourself. Five words per day. Why? Am I that much of an asshole to hold a civil conversation with? Don’t tell me that you’re still holding grudges from the day we first met.” 

“So what if I hold grudges? Do you think holding my best friend at gunpoint is gonna make me wanna befriend you?”

“Okay, bad example—“

“Look, can we talk this out later? I need to go outside and look for some food. We’re running out of those premade, frozen chicken nuggets that my brother’s obsessed with. As always.” You push him aside and place your hand on the doorknob. But Felix catches your hand in time before you can twist it, yanking it back so that you’re facing him, dead in the eye. He’s not letting go of his chance again. “Let-me-go.” You deadpan but receive a frown from him as a reply. 

“No,” Felix looks like you just spit on him, his mocha eyes are now unreadable, almost hurt at why you’re acting so cold towards him. Some guys find it hot when girls have this kind of facade on, but this? This shit hurts him, tremendously. You might see him as a spoiled brat at day and party animal at night who just happens to be friends with your brother for all he knows. “I don’t trust your definition of ‘later’. Who knows? You might never let me into your life again after this conversation. I don’t like people shutting me out like this. Tell me, Y/N, do you really hate me that much? If so, I solemnly swear I will never talk to you again.”

Your prepared beforehand witty retort grows dead on the tip of your tongue. His eyes...they’re not lying. It makes your heart crack a bit upon seeing how sad they look right now. Perhaps you were being too harsh on him? Maybe you shouldn’t have judged him from the get-go? “You care about me, don’t you?” Felix reaches his hand upwards to tug a strand of hair behind your ear. He gently grabs your hand and places them on his cheekbone, where a scar is fading by time. “Remember this? You treated me. You do care, Y/N. You’re not stupid enough to think that I didn’t know right?”

You retrieve your hand and scoff. “Why would I care? Did I look like I cared? The only reasons I treated your wounds were because I could witness your pathetic state and I punched you in the face previously. Totally didn’t regret that but still, I wanted to make it up to you.” You say, desperately trying to wiggle your way out of this conversation because you’re not enjoying where this is going. 

He inches closer and closer until he’s a breath away from your lips. “Because when you were treating my wounds, you had that dumb look on your face whenever you’re focused.” And you finally exhale when he pulls away, backing out of your room with a smirk. “I’ll wait in the car, your Highness.” 

seven.

Going grocery shopping with Felix is rather stressful. Not because there are zombies spontaneously popping out of nowhere every five minutes, but because you quickly, quickly realize that this boy knows nothing about food other than stuffing his face until he can’t even pick himself up anymore. He can’t tell the difference between actually good meat and meat that’s been spoiled for several weeks. You literally can’t even fathom why because the foul smell would definitely give it away but unfortunately, he doesn’t even spare a second to suspect the sketchy hues of green and blue on the red surface. 

But hey, at least he can kick some zombies’ asses when you’re too busy deciding between salmon and tuna. You’d always end up getting both anyway because why not? Guess this is what you get for not having to pay for anything. Being stuck with an uneducated fool who’s never once experienced working in the kitchen. The area around here is somewhat isolated so the stores are still pretty stocked up with all of the essentials. Thank God they haven’t run out of Woojin’s favorite chicken nuggets. 

“Do you even know what this is?” You throw your hands up midair in disbelief, referring to the pile of grapefruits that are now half-way empty for no particular reason. 

Felix makes a thinking face, lips pursing. “I think it’s a flamingo.” 

“Lee Yongbok, you gotta be shitting me—“

He stops midway towards the frozen aisle. “Woah woah slow down bro, where did you get that name from?” His Korean name is as confidential as Chan’s secret drawers full of his guilty pleasure food. Not many people call him that because he secretly hates it and whoever takes that advantage to make fun of him deserves the cruelest of punishment. Felix frowns furiously at you before grabbing several packs of the chicken nuggets, fries, and some dumplings to throw them into the cart along with his Tim Tam Slam and your KitKat. “Chan told you right? He’s been on my ass all week since we moved in with you guys.”

You help him with stocking up canned food. “Why though? He seems like such a nice guy.” Okay except for the fact that he almost blew Jisung’s brain out. But you’re not gonna dwell on the past. “No worries though, everyone has probably known your Korean name by now.”

“This is not what I signed up for.”

You aggressively grab him by the neck to ruffle his hair, laughing at his misery. “Look at us, we’re already becoming so civil, I bet my brother is loving this.”

Felix tugs himself free from your grip to fix his hair and huffs. “Could be fate, you know?” He wiggles his brows, making you gag as you both make your way out of the store. 

“Right,” you roll your eyes. “And they say I’m the crazy one.”

“No! I’m serious!” He exclaims with two hands up in defense. “One thing leads to another. Are you seeing how far we’ve come?” He pauses for a bit when the two of you reach the car so that he can throw everything to the backseats. “Jisung impulsively stole my ring, which made us run into each other. I met you again because I just happen to be friends with your brother. And since you tried to avoid me so hard, I had an excuse to piss you off so that I’m making up to you right now. How is that not fate?” He ends his speech before entering the car, inserting his key to start the engine.

You jump into the passenger’s seat, scoffing. “Thanks for the pep talk, pretty sure fate’s doing all the work. Now, where are we going?”

“I’m hungry, and I’m craving something.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “And I’m supposed to care because..?”

“Shut up and turn on some music.” He tosses you his phone. 

Felix’s playlist consists of a handful of Coldplay’s songs with some other upbeat, trendy ones. He knows enough lyrics to sing along to throughout the drive. You look out the window and loosen yourself up a bit. His voice is surprisingly soothing, a stark contrast to his usual deep talking voice which is kinda nice to listen to. Both of you never start talking because you’re already dozing off to Dreamland because he had the audacity to drag your ass out of bed at eight in the morning. Your head constantly knocks onto the cool glass window every two minutes or so, but it doesn’t seem to be bothering your slumber. 

It’s almost noon, and the sun’s probably the only thing that’s keeping Felix awake. He’s hungry, thirsty, sleepy and kind of stiff from occupying the driver’s seat for way too long. He didn’t get any sleep last night, busy thinking of ways to get your attention again. Luckily, he didn’t walk out of your room with a black eye this time. Felix mentally exhales when he pulls up, and his eyes are met with the giant purple and pink neon sign: “Fancy” aka Chan’s favorite place. He shuts the engine off before leaning over to wake you up. 

“Meow,” he flinches at the sound and immediately turns to you. You would never possibly make that, would you? “Meow,” there it is again. His eyes shift again to the backseats, squinting hard only to make out a yellow ball of fluff shuffling through the bags of groceries. “Oh my God Soonie, what the hell are you doing here?” He sighs in relief when the cat finally looks up at him, green eyes piercing through the dark. 

You stir in your slumber and eventually wake up upon hearing the commotion. “What happened?” A loud yawn escapes your lips when you rub your eyes tiredly. You turn around only to see Minho’s oldest cat pawing at the paper bags.  “Are you seeing Soonie in the backseats right now or am I just delusional?” 

“Well, that makes two of us. She probably sneaked out again, Minho’s gonna throw hands soon.” Felix scoops Soonie into his arms easily and opens the door. Then, he turns around to look at you. “Come on, I bet you’re hungry, my treat.” 

eight.

“Food,” Felix tells you when he shuts the door behind his back. He takes in the cool air of the diner and exhales deeply. God bless humanity for air conditioners. 

You nod back without looking at him. “Yeah, food.” And you let him drag you across the diner by the wrist. 

The diner is definitely not the place that needs to be booked months in advance. It’s not the kind with large mullioned windows, long embroidered curtains, velvet tables or delicate classical music in the background. It leans more towards the retro style with checkered floor, colorful and fun pieces of furniture, somewhere that makes you feel cozy too. You like it here. 

Felix outstretches his limbs and yawns, petting Soonie gently. The cat isn’t as impulsive as she is whenever Doongie or Dori is trying to steal her toy. Thank goodness. “Nayeon!” He smiles and waves at the brunette girl behind the counter. 

She quickly catches your eyes with her bunny-like smile, radiant skin, and pretty eyes. When she smiles, her cheeks are bunched up, eyes wrinkling into little crescent moons. The type of smile that will make anyone a little breathless. Then, you hear Felix mumbling that something smells really fucking good when he leans over the counter. You look around the diner once again, although it’s empty, there are still people working as if they don’t mind the given circumstances. These people are all high, they are all insane. They have to be.

Nayeon pulls out a pen along with her notepad, eyeing you with curiosity. “Hey kid, where’s Chan?” And you quickly break eye contact with her, pretending to have some kind of interest in the photo of her with other eight girls right beside the menu. They were on a tropical island, smiling and laughing with the ocean waves splashing against them. All of them are incredibly gorgeous, making you feel small in comparison.

“He’s elsewhere with Woojin today. I’ll take the usual,” Felix slides the smaller version of the menu across the counter, perking a brow for you to take a look at it. “Choose whatever you like.” 

You shrug. “Anything will do.” 

“Then two of what I already said then.” He nods towards the waitress, earning another warm smile. 

Nayeon taps her pen against her cheek, whispering. “Who’s that? Did you find someone?” She looks down at how his hand is holding onto yours and grins mischievously. Felix automatically drops your hand at her words, blushing furiously while looking down in slight embarrassment. “Ah, no need to explain, I’ve got you.” She places a hand on his shoulder and laughs before punching in your order. 

“It’s not—“

Nayeon puts her index finger over his mouth. “I’ve got you.” She’s never seen Felix hanging out with any girl other than his sisters before so she’s 90% sure that you’re not just any girl to be able to go to this specific diner with him. By the look of it, there’s gotta be something between you two. How you’re constantly staring into midair and anywhere else to avoid her eagle eyes, how Felix’s cheeks are redder than a tomato. Everything just speaks for itself. “Your orders will be right out.” She beams and walks back into the kitchen. You almost bury yourself alive hearing multiple females squealing and giggling in the distance. 

“Sorry about that,” he pushes himself away from the counter before smiling sheepishly. “They just get excited because—“

“Because you’re a coward who’s never been in a relationship before.” You finish his sentence with a smirk, snatching Soonie from his pocket and walk over to one of the round tables. 

Felix settles down on the opposite side of the table with a sigh. He shoots you a dirty look before pouting. “God, you’re so mean. Stop exposing my miserable, non-existent love life.” 

[1:35p.m.]

meanhoe | uhm hello Kardashians, I’m looking for my eldest daughter Soonie?

woobear | not the living room!

[1:36p.m.]

trashbin | not my room!

drama lama | not the backyard!

old man | not the kitchen either!

[1:37p.m.]

quokka | not the bar too!

meanhoe | tf are you doing at a bar?

quokka | retrieving my sanity…

[1:38p.m.]

meanhoe | you know that my whiskey is wayyy better right?

quokka |  DID I STUTTER?

meanhoe | swiped left.

[1:39p.m.] 

y/n | she was inside Felix’s Jeep for some reason, we’re at a diner rn, some place called ‘Fancy’?

old man | LEE FELIX YOU TRAITOR!!

old man | YOU BETTER BRING ME SOME WHEN YOU GET HOME.

[1:40p.m.]

meanhoe | bring her home safely, and I’ll make dinner.

meanhoe | if not, I will grab you both by the throat and tear you apart, piece by piece.

meanhoe | there will be no negotiation, no compromise, and no mercy.

You just grin at your phone before putting the device away and shudder slightly. That’s enough Internet for today, boys being boys. This is why you’re low-key terrified of cat lovers. “Well aren’t you busy,” Felix scoffs when he sees that you’re not having any interest in one of the proper conversations with him that rarely happens. “Too busy texting with some cute boy to talk to me instead?” He cocks his head sideways, mustering his best puppy eyes or in this case, kitten eyes because he looks just like ‘Puss in Boots’.

You pinch his nose cutely, making him back off in pain. “If you’re saying Minho aka the freaky dad cat is cute then yes, I am extremely occupied with him threatening my life for having his beloved daughter in my arms.” Then, you allow him to glare at you for as long as he likes while you’re too focused on admiring the view from the window. The sky is oddly blue today, not too cloudy, not too sunny, the air is not that stuffy either. Maybe on a good day, even a zombie apocalypse seems pretty normal. You can understand why these girls still want to run the diner during times like this, simply because they love their job. And they want to help those in need because it’s the least they can do, to give people a heartwarming meal. 

“Sorry,” Nayeon walks towards your table with a bowl of warm milk. “The food will be out in a minute, I just don’t want the little thing to starve and be all miserable while you guys are stuffing your faces.” She pets Soonie with the warmest smile and the kitten purrs into her touch, closing her eyes in satisfaction. 

Felix pulls her out of your arms and gently places her next to him on the cushioned surface. “Thanks, you didn’t have to do that though. Minho spoils her on a daily basis.”

Curiously, “When did this happen?” You frown before running your index finger over a small hole that just happens to be the size of a bullet, cautious enough to not accidentally cut your finger. 

“Oh, that,” The brunette waitress' expression mirrors yours, slightly confused and intrigued. “Huh, I wonder…”

And all of the colors drain on your face. “Duck,” you say breathlessly, breaths coming in short. 

“What?” Felix can barely hear his own voice. 

Nayeon suddenly looks alarmed. “Everyone get down!” She shouts at the top of her lungs, arms flailing like a madwoman. “GET DOWN! NOW!”

Just then, a bullet pierces right through the window, glass shattering into pieces as you see Nayeon clutching onto her own stomach, blood oozing from her fresh wound. You’re ready to yelp aloud when Felix pulls you down onto the ground with him, letting his body cover up your head and shards of glass cut his cheeks. The diner grows uncomfortably silent when no sound is made, but you still keep your eyes shut and your face buried in his chest. 

“Hey hey look at me,” Felix tells you, angling your jaw so that you can make eye contact with him although your eyes are quivering in fear. It’s not the first time you’ve heard a gunshot before but he’s never seen you so shaken up about it before. It hurts seeing you like this. “We’re gonna be okay—“

Before you can reply without tripping over your own words, something falls onto the tiled floor, rolling across the surface to reach the other side of the diner. You squint your eyes hard to make out the shape of the object. It was almost the size of an avocado, round-ish, and dark. No one seems to notice it at all until there’s an ear-piercing sound that keeps beeping, echoing throughout the entire diner. 

“Shit—“ You breathe out and hold onto Felix tightly, bracing yourself for the blow. 

That’s when the entire place explodes, destroying every single thing until there’s nothing left but the grey ashes that are following the wind to reach the burning sky above. 

Utterly demolished, you’d say.

nine.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” 

Woojin says softly when he sits down next to you on your bed. He gives your hand a squeeze in reassurance, heartbroken at your state. You look as pale as a ghost, the bags under your eyes more evident than ever, and your lips chapped, starting to turn purple. You haven’t touched the food that Minho offered for the past few days, still refusing to talk to any of the guys. But he was relieved that you were saved from the pile of ruins by one of the workers there - Jihyo, he believes that’s her name. He wouldn’t know what to do if anything happened to you. 

“No,” you shake your head profusely. “Not now.”

“So the thought of losing him does scare the shit out of you?”

You nod. “Yeah.” 

“Then you’ve found your happy ending,” your brother ruffles your hair and stands up. “Yes, right in the middle of a zombie apocalypse.” He smiles at you one last time, “Anyway, you better find him then. Godspeed.” before closing the door with a small ‘click’. 

Meanwhile, you’re staring at the wooden floor blankly, starting to wonder how filthy rich the previous family living here was. By the look of it, they seemed to be pretty well off but were probably scared shitless when the disease spread like wildfire. With that, they took off running, leaving everything behind to preserve their precious lives. But who knows? They could be some random zombies out there, roaming the streets mindlessly by now. 

You space out a lot these days, thinking about random things, but mostly him. You keep on asking yourself where in the world is he, how is he holding up, but it’s all pointless since you don’t even know if he’s still… Anyway, but when you peer at the small mirror on your table, you can see a small glimmer of another presence inside your room. Sometimes you don’t realize how far you can go whenever you’re thinking hard about something. It gets to the point where you don’t even move when Minho or Hyunjin is yelling or screaming about some stupid things right in front of your eyes. 

You take another look, eyes growing wide. It’s a glimmer of a pink-haired boy. 

“Hey Princess, not gonna choke me to death for intruding your room this time?” Felix jokes before kneeling down in front of you. It takes you an entire two minutes to understand that he’s here. He’s really here. It’s been so long since you’ve seen him in person that you’re starting to get emotional just by looking into his eyes. They’re still starry, warm and give you a sense of comfort whenever your gazes touch. “Hey, it’s all good now.” He wipes a single tear away from your face that you didn’t even take notice of. 

You choke out, debating on whether you should be bawling your eyes out because he’s safe and sound or kick his ass for worrying you. “You can’t just come back and say that! Do you know how scared I was?! Do you have any idea how many sleepless nights I’ve gone through? And now you’re just gonna come back from the Underworld to tell me that ‘It’s all good now’? Well then if you excuse me, I’m gonna go murder my friends and see if it w—“

Felix figures you still haven’t changed one bit. He knows that you’re a lover, not a fighter. Talking big on the outside but easily hurt on the inside. That’s one of the things that makes you who you are today, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. So he wordlessly leans in to capture your lips in his, swallowing every word, every nonsense, every nag that you’re gonna throw his way until you completely melt into his touch. The kiss makes your head a little fuzzy, and butterflies are tickling at the pit of your stomach. For someone who’s never been in a relationship before, Felix will definitely make you giddy all day with a kiss like this. It’s kind of innocent, kind of childish but unforgettable. 

The deeper the kiss gets, the more you think about your conversation with him the other day when he’s driving you to the diner. Fate might be a thing, but still a debatable topic. You’re not gonna say that you believe in fate because that’s a whole lot of commitment for someone who can’t even stay up to date with a short web drama. But maybe, just maybe, fate is doing its job just fine after all because you can’t ask for anyone else to be with you at the end of the world. You know that Felix’s not here just because the universe pities you (or him), or he will love you just for the hell of it either. Everything happens for a reason, but more importantly than ever, he’s not going anywhere this time. You didn’t ask, you’re sure of it by the look in his mocha eyes. 

Because like you’ve said before, his eyes never lie. They could never. 

You pull away before planting your hands on either side of his shoulders, chest heaving up and down due to shortness of breaths. “How did you...you know, make it?”

“I really thought that I was going to suffocate to my untimely death under the ruins of the diner but the girls found me later on when they were digging through everything. I was knocked out for a good week, some scratches here and there, but no one was hurt severely“ he stops himself before continuing when he sees your glossy eyes. “Nayeon is fine too. She didn’t lose that much blood, surprisingly.” 

You let silence fall upon the both of you for a second when a rush of relief runs down your spine. Then, your lips twitch slightly at what you’re going to say next. “Do you know why I treated your wounds that day? Do you know why I stared at the floor when your friend was teasing us? Do you know why I spent the past few days being all depressed and teary in bed?” You ask Felix with such determination that it makes him chuckle. 

“Easy,” he grins and caresses your cheekbone the exact same way he did a few days ago. “Because you fell for a spoiled rich kid who knows absolutely nothing about being in love. Just like how I did for you, a girl who’s best at killing the walking dead, not cooking, not cleaning, none of that shit. Weirdly enough, fate brought the two of us together again when we’re both lying on the borderline between life and death.” 

You roll your eyes at him and finally crack a smile. The smile that he adores the most. “Then what if fate does us apart? What if it doesn’t want us to end up with each other again? What if this isn’t a happy ending but a beginning to something much more terrifying?”

“In that case,” Felix leans in again, his breath fanning your cheeks. “I will always find you. And look for you, and run to you until I no longer have the strength to lift myself off the ground with my own feet.” He gently slips the silver ring that he treasures with his entire life onto your finger and places small kisses on your knuckles, looking as beautiful as ever. 

He’s right, and wrong at the same time. The idea of fate does have some kind of power over mundane mortals like you because you’ve been tied down to the idea of not being able to control your own life since you’re born. But on the other hand, sometimes you just have to take matters into your own hand to be able to get what you want in life. So seeing how determined Felix is to find you even if it means walking to the other side of the planet with his bare feet in spite of being such a naïveté who believes in things that are considered dumb, you know that he’s being serious. 

At the same time, you accept the fact that you didn’t find love, it found you because it’s got a little something to do with fate, destiny and what’s written in the stars. 

You tell him, voice hoarse. “You’ll find me and never let me go?”

“Not this lifetime, not even in another one.” He says with a smile, eyes crinkling. 

[gilliansanderson]

If Ever There Is Tomorrow; Chapter 2

A/N: Sorry this took forever, I had to physically beat the words out of the muses mouth for this, I tell you. Next one should be up quicker I swear. Anyway, tagging @fictober and @today-in-fic

[Chapter 1] [AO3]

2. Where The Wild Things Are

Fall 1971

The once green leaves have fallen and turned to rust. They rustle softly in the breeze, accompanying a symphony of cicadas as they mourn the end of summer. Mulder is ten years old today, and in typical Mulder fashion, had decided the only just way to celebrate hitting double digits was a trip to the gloomy forest. Dusk seeps in like the tide; Home-time has long since passed, but Mulder has a flashlight and a story to tell.

“Once,” he begins, voice dramatically hushed. Perched on the rotting trunk of a fallen tree, his young audience leans in, eager to catch his words. “In these very woods, lived a very old, very bad man. He lived in the very tops of the trees and from up there he could the whole world. He lived on rats and owls and, occasionally, lost little girls,”

The mid-October wind picks up forcefully, a chilling wail punctuating his words, the small group shivers and huddles ever closer. “One day there was this girl, she was nearly seven years old and had long brown hair, her parents were worried, because she went away one night and never came home, so they went looking in these woods all night, but when they finally found her she was dead, in a nest of bones on the top of the highest tree and the man had chewed her face right off…”

“Stop it, Fox! You’re scaring Samantha,”

Samantha had grown visibly pale. Scully, snapped out of her trance, puts a comforting arm around her, “Don’t worry,” she whispers in the other girl’s ear, “It’s only pretend,”

Mulder’s inner circle consisted of his sister, his best friend, and his best friend’s sister, who though quite fond of Mulder was even fonder of Samantha, with her braid-able hair and a mutual love for Barbie dolls which Dana, despite her greatest efforts, had never come to share. So it comes as no surprise when Melissa jumps to her defence.

“I think I’ll take her home, Danes,” she tells them, rising to her feet and dusting off her floral skirt.

“Aw, c’mon Missy, don’t be a killjoy,” Scully groans, but Samantha stands and throws her an apologetic smile, “It’s okay Dana, I’m kinda tired anyway,”

“Don’t stay out too late or mom will freak,” Melissa says with the proud authority only an older sibling could possess, before tugging the younger girl gently behind her, until the warm glow of her lantern fades into the distance and plunges the forest into black once again.

“Well, what do we do now?” Scully huffs. “Have I told you the one about the Jersey Devil, Scully?”

She rolls her eyes towards the moon. “Only like a billion times,”

“How about hide and seek?” he concedes, “Or are you afraid of the bad man too?”

They glance up at the twisted treetops concealing the glittering night, no monster in sight. “I’ll play with you, Mulder,” Scully smirks and quickly turns, “But you have to find me first!” she calls behind her as she darts off through the trees.

Mulder shuts his eyes and counts to ten.

Fall 1978

Dana hovers nervously on the fringe of the cafeteria, a plastic tray filled with questionable mac and cheese and neon green Jell-O held in an iron grip, for which she is quickly losing her appetite. This is the part she despises. catching people’s eyes, pretending to be interested, to be interesting, trying in vain to explain where she came from; everywhere and nowhere. She hates feigning a confidence which she so desperately lacked.

Dana’s tendency to overthink was new and overpowering. Somewhere along the way, in some school locker room or some sleepover where she was just a pity invite, she had lost the invulnerability of childhood, and let insecurity seep under her skin with every whisper and sideways glance, at every failed attempt to infiltrate friendships which had already been forged in the fires of early adolescence.

Her code-breaking docs squeak on the linoleum floor, she is painfully aware that she’s beginning to attract attention. She feels too small and too large all at once, somehow taking up too much space, yet not nearly enough.

That’s when she feels the hand on her back.

“Scully,” he all but whispers, “Can we talk?”

She trips over air as she recoils. Macaroni becomes airborne, half the room turns to stare. Dana’s face matches the ketchup splattered on the floor. “I don’t have anything to say to you,” She seethes. She had been avoiding him like the plague since she ran out of the principal’s office, thinking she’d be doing them both a favor by avoiding confrontation.

“Scully, I’m sorry, I just…” Mulder stammers, his gaze intense, mournful, nervous. What right did he have to be nervous? Anger overrides anxiety as years of dormant resentment bubbles to the surface and erupts like a volcano.

“Don’t call me that. You have no right to call me that, you can’t talk to me as if you know me, like we’re still friends. Friends write, Mulder! Friends talk to each other, friends acknowledge each other’s existence! I don’t care what you have to say, it’s too late for this, Mulder, I don’t want to talk to you or Samantha or anyone…”

She’s cut off by someone grabbing her wrist, pulling her roughly away from Mulder’s wounded expression, from the hundreds of eyes trained on the scene before them and into the girl’s dingy bathroom.

“Missy, I was handling it,”

“You weren’t handling shit, Dana. Fuck.” Her sister curses as she bolts the door and cracks open the window. “Why did you have to go and make a scene? It’s been hard enough on him already,”

Dana catches sight of herself in the mirror and quickly looks away. She already hates her features, they’re worse when twisted with rage. “Hard enough on him? What the fuck, Missy, who’s side are you on?”

Melissa sighs and pulls out a pack of cigarettes, putting one shakily to her mouth, “I knew I should have just told you,”

Dana is momentarily stunned. Her mom had made them promise that they would never smoke when her grandfather passed away, after years of sucking on cigars turned his blackened lungs to ash. She’d already broken that promise several times, but she hadn’t thought that her sister ever would, and for some reason, this fills her with unease.

“Told me what?” Her fingers fumble to strike the match, but she finally sparks a flame. After a long moment of silence, she speaks. “Dad made me swear not to tell you” Smoke billows from her lips, curling and dancing under the fluorescent light, poisoning the air with her poison words. “Samantha was taken, Dana. She was kidnapped, I guess, a few months after we left Massachusetts,”

The walls constrict and the world turns on its side. All Dana could focus on was the tears trailing down her sister’s cheeks, leaving track marks in her rouge, as the things she was telling her registered in her brain. “I guess they thought… How do you even explain that shit to an eight-year-old? What if we had stayed a bit longer? you practically lived there and…”

Dana remembers how to breathe around the same time she remembers how to speak. Oxygen feels like fire in her lungs, her fury burns in her throat. “And what?” she rasps, “What? you think it could have been me?”

“Dana, don’t…” her sister pleads.

“How could you even think to keep something like that from me? She was my friend too, Missy. Mulder was my friend and…”

Mulder. Shit.

Dana bursts out of the bathroom, throughout the crowded dining hall, conversations stall. Mulder is already gone.

Fall 1993

As a child, Scully had a recurring dream of being stuck in a museum overnight, the exhibits would come alive and start to speak. The Smithsonian at this moment was dead, as she stares at the Neanderthals behind the darkened glass, Darwin’s apes learning to walk, she wonders what they would say.

Nature had never come naturally to her. While it felt like practically all her friends were getting married, getting pregnant, getting mortgages, all she was getting was older. And then there’s Mulder.

She feels his lingering presence long before his reflection appears the glass.

“You always did have a knack for running away,” his voice echoes throughout the empty room, life amongst the ruins of the ancient and extinct.

“You’re one to talk, Mulder,” she bites back, feels him flinch, and immediately wants to stuff the words back in her mouth

“I didn’t mean…”

“I know what you meant,”

This was something they were still getting used to. Their dynamic was all new, yet all too familiar, a battle of wits in an instant turn into a hesitant dance. They compliment and contradict each other to the point that it was maddening. There had always been something about this man, and the boy he used to be, which sparked an insatiable curiosity, a hunger for the extraordinary, one that could never be satisfied by homily divorcees or besotted superiors to her eternal frustration.

“Are you going to let me look at that?” she softly breaks the silence, nodding to the fresh wound on Mulder’s ribs, which he was gingerly palming through his blazer.

“You just wanna see me with my shirt off,” he grunts, “You shouldn’t abuse your medical license for personal reasons, Scully,”

“It only seems fair after Bellefleur,” She allows her self a smirk

“You have some recently un-repressed memories you want to discuss?” He laughs humorlessly, their banter turning dry as it comes back to Samantha, as it would always come back to Samantha. Scully remembers listening to his regression tapes, seeing her picture in that file, how her heart hit the floor. The doe-eyed girl in a nightdress, the girl who had cried when other kids scraped their knees or stepped on ants. Scully can see the Samantha-shaped hole her absence left behind his eyes, and she can’t blame him at all. She gives up the attempt to lighten the mood and cuts to the chase.

“I know you believe she’s out there Mulder, I want to believe she’s alright too, but…“ she chooses her words carefully, “But I don’t want to see you keep getting hurt,”

The silence is deafening, she starts to think that the wax figures might break the silence before Mulder does, but then he hooks his fingers gently around hers and anchoring her gaze to his. “I just… need to find out, Scully,” he murmurs, “Even if that means doing it on my own,”

Scully studies Darwin’s early men and thinks of how far they’ve evolved, how far they still have to go. Maybe subconsciously she feels she owes it to the girl she once was or the girl she once knew, but she feels herself being drawn in deeper down the rabbit hole, drawn back to him. She takes a deep breath and squeezes his hand, answering his unspoken question.

“You won’t be alone,”

[jimlingss]

Annihilation of You [1/2]

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 (finale) Words: 8.4k Genre: Fluff, Slight Crack, Soulmate!Au, Evil Genius!Au, Post Apocalyptic!Au  Summary: You have one goal: destroy the world. Only one thing stands in your way: your soulmate. Looks like you’re going to have to destroy him first. ��� Inspired by this and this.

You will destroy the world.

Mankind will be eradicated and the plains will be ravaged. The human species will be vaporized and Earth will be brought back to it’s previous natural state; luscious greenery and vegetation with thriving lifeforms. Warm sunlight will filter through tall and overgrown trees, animals will return to their indigenous habitats and the air will become freshly crisp once more.

No longer will decaying bodies lay on dirt. No longer will the smog pollution fill the sky in shades of brown and gray. The selfish desires of the elite and the mindset of materialism won’t rule over hearts, blind eyes with greed. War won’t be a word in the dictionary or a concept in existence.

No one can stop you.

MUHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAA!

“Your. evil. laugh. is. quite. reaching. its. ultimate. form. of. excellency. Y/N.” Elise speaks with a monotone voice. It’s unemotional and flat - exactly the way you made her. Perfect.

You swivel around in your chair. “Silence, Elise.”

A hundred years ago, civilization fell to absolute shit when leadership was held by immature individuals. Strained diplomatic relations resulted in one country nuking another's and the other nuking everyone. If that wasn’t bad enough, a top secret lab somewhere in the desert was broken into. Experimental monkeys ended up running rampant on the streets.

Apparently, the government had been purposely trying to develop a disease to drop in enemy territory but from the burglary, the virus was set loose into the world. As one may expect, an epidemic immediately broke out. It made the dead walk with an undying thirst for living human flesh. These mindless creatures were called ‘zombies’ or at least that’s what you read in the historical books.

Fortunately, in approximately fifty years from the initial outbreak, all the zombies rotted to death.

Billions had died but there were still a handful of fighting (rather lucky and miraculous) survivors out there, building their way back into the world in sophistication and paving a way for civilization once more. But you didn’t feel an ounce of fascination - not even as a child. You facepalmed and groaned, covering your face with the white pages of the worn book.

Why were humans such idiots?

They were simply going to repeat everything over again. People never learn. They were going to run this planet to the core before they’ll realize. Sure, you could just migrate to another planet but you wouldn’t be able to sleep at night with the thought of these idiotic species raging in existence.

Thus, for as long as you could possibly remember, you had a dream to end humanity once and for all.  

“Perfect! Perfect!”

Another stream of menacing laughter leaves parted lips. Your fingers tap furiously over the keyboard, screen flickering to show the progress of the rockets currently lying dormant underground.

“The. progress. is-.” Elise emits her speech through the speakers. “-at. exactly. ninety-point-zero. percent. Approximately. three. months. until. completion. and. detonation.”

“Right on track.” You mumble under your breath. It takes one simple push to move from your console computer desk to the engine in the corner.

It’s a chunk of metal with wires running inside the box, circuits shooting out as you flip the switch. It screeches a horrendous pitch as it boots up, the screen lighting to blind your eyes. It may take up quite a bit of space but it works and you can’t be bothered to modify it to a smaller size - not when you’re working on eliminating human kind.

“Show me.”

Your voice commands the machinery and it responds with a dry “activating”.

You had assembled this mechanism decades before, an idea that had been in the works and only tangible a few months ago after innumerable amounts of tweaking. The incompetent would call it a ‘future portal’. But it isn’t. It’s plainly artificial intelligence that measures tendencies, personalities and patterns. It assesses the probability of what is most likely to occur and displays it.

Ninety-nine percent accuracy.

Unfortunately for you, it only shows three months in advance. It busts every time you attempt to look farther into the future and the accuracy halves. Nevertheless, it does not matter. You’re on schedule. Nothing else can possibly happen. You’re going to wipe out this world either way.

“Exhibiting…....” The words flash across the monitor. “Three months from today….”

It suddenly goes black and you mutter a curse, ready to slam the machine but then it illuminates again, so bright that you hold your hand up to your eyes, wincing away. “What the-”

Laughter. It isn’t menacing. It isn’t ominous or threatening. It doesn’t loom darkness over sunlight, doesn’t rise goosebumps on skin or cause vicious animals to shudder. It’s the type of laugh...or rather...giggle that bubbles from the heart and swelled cheeks sore from smiling. It’s a sound so unlike your evil snickers. It’s genuine and light, floating like innocent clouds.

It’s disgusting.

And it’s your voice. It’s your laughter.

“What the hell?” A breathless whisper leaves your mouth and you hesitate to bring down your arm. Though once you do, for the first time in eternity, you’re utterly baffled.

Your jaw drops, your pupils dilate and your heart palpitates at a dangerous pace. You fall back into your swivel chair and you nearly faceplant onto the floor. “Oh my god.”

It’s you. on the screen. in the arms. of. a. male.

He’s embracing you from behind, hands clasped together at your stomach. He smiles down, eyes crinkling with a soft expression. Most importantly...you’re looking up at him with an endeared look as if he’s your everything. And the both of you are SWAYING?! TOGETHER???????????????????????????????

“What the-” You’re unable to comprehend the fuzzy film in front of you, instead choosing to pound your fist on the table. “Show me the second most likely future.”

The engine hears your command and the monitor flickers.

This time the stranger is holding a bouquet of flowers with a sly smirk, presenting it in front of you while you’re in a...flustered form?!?! Impossible! There must be a malfunction within the system. You don’t even allow other living lifeforms into your dome.

“Show me the third future!” You scream a command, howl ricocheting off your metal ceiling.

The third future shows the stranger. The fourth, fifth and sixth occupy his smiling face. Your hand meant to type out codes of destruction are held by his. Ugh. He’s pecking you on the cheek, on the forehead, on the edges of your knuckles. Needless to say, it’s horrific. Your worst nightmare. An absolute abomination!

It’s when you see the seventh, when your mouth is curled upwards and you’re murmuring an ‘I love y-’ when you decide enough is enough. Your clenched fist hurls itself at the keyboard and the screen goes dark, aware of your outrage and shutting off automatically.

“Elise.” You spit her name past gritted teeth.

None of the futures even include the extinction of humans.

She replies as you run a frustrated hand through your hair. “What. can. I. do. for. you. your. greatness.”

“Identify this male mortal.”

When you push your swivel chair back to the main console, the humongous screen that’s nailed onto the entire expanse of the wall shows a standard picture of the stranger. The image rotates to show his entire body, fully clothed of course. You don’t need to be blinded. “His. name. is. Kim. Seokjin.”

“Kim. Seokjin. is. sixty. three. kilograms. in. weight. and. his. height. is. one. hundred. seventy. nine. centimeters. He. is. age. twenty. four. He. is. in. prime. condition. for. procreation.”

You groan into your hands, waving the air to silence her. It takes a full moment before you sharply inhale and sit straight with undeterred calmness. “Where is he located?”

She states motionlessly, “A. developing. town. exactly. nineteen. kilometers. west.”

Humans. Didn’t they know that you built this home with the intention of living in complete isolation? Since when did they move so quickly? Were they planning to pillage the land again and overpopulate themselves? Above all, why didn’t you notice beforehand? Were you really that focused on your task that you failed to see? Nineteen kilometers is merely four hours on foot. If some fool decided to walk in one direction for all of that time, they would certainly run into your abode.

You make a note to later set up an invisible shield around the grounds to conceal yourself.

“What is his personality? His habits and natural tendencies?” You lean in close. “His weaknesses.”

Your computer program takes a long moment before answering, running through the database and data processor, all known history and encyclopedias. You’re holding in your breath, closing your eyes to prepare for the spew of material but then- “insufficient information.”

“Elise. Tell me.” You inhale a steady breath. “How likely is it...that he will be in my future?”

You’ve held in the temptation to scream your head off, to slam your shiny keyboard and break your extensive computer monitors. Never in your life before have you felt so out of control.

No one can stand in the gateway to your goal. Not that you’d exactly want to but in a heartbeat, you’ll annihilate anyone who stands in your way-

“One hundred percent.” Elise says. “He. is. someone. you. may. call-”

Preposterous. The word that she speaks, the very concept of it, is not suppose to exist. It’s an idea with the purpose of fulfilling recreational pleasures in romanticized novels and movies. It goes against the very core of science, biology and mathematics. But Elise is never wrong. No. She is your artificial intelligent servant, assistant to you and head of your entire engine. She is the entire foundation of the dome. You built her to be foolproof. Perfect.

She is incapable of lying. If she isn’t wrong, then she speaks the truth.

“-soulmate.”

It’s a tiny obstacle. A crack in your flawlessly paved path. A bump in the road. It may be small but it still stands in your way. Without hesitation, you’re already aware of the next course of action.

You’re going to have to annihilate the so-called Kim Seokjin.

//

The sunrays beam down past the black clouds, making you scowl at the natural brightness. You were used to your white artificial lighting, automatically able to adjust to the size of your pupils and to avoid straining your eyes. If that wasn’t any bad then you were certainly despising the way dirt was surrounding your clean shoes. What you were glad for, however, was that the measly humans had buried all the dead bodies surrounding the area. At least they weren’t that idiotic to leave decaying flesh above ground to manifest more diseases.

The town reminded you of the medieval era, an image you remember directly out of the encyclopedia. Like the barren land surrounding the region, it is hues of sepia and gray, somber and shabby with maze-like alleyways. Their homes are made from timber frames and brick roofs, the tallest of ones only two stories high. The meager dwellings are of stone and even straw. However, unlike the actual medieval times, humans had already been through this part of history. Despite their lacking construction abilities as they have yet to build machinery to improve the process, their law and order was still modernized.

You estimate that it wouldn’t take long, perhaps only a few decades, before humanity can recover from their losses and build modern society again. But that isn’t any of your problem. You’ll end them before they get the chance. You just have to find him.  

“There he is…” You mutter to yourself, a habit you find no sense in fixing. “What is he doing?”

You’re hidden in the shadows, behind a thick trunk of a birch tree. A black clock adorns your body, hood risen to conceal your features in case someone were to catch a glimpse. More importantly, in your hands, fingers curled around the trigger, is a ray gun. With one shot, he’ll disintegrate into ash, zap into dust. And all your complications will dissolve as quickly as his scream will muffle in his annihilation. One pull, one second, one beam that will fire from the muzzle and he will cease to exist!

“Muhaha-” A mute cackle befalls from your lips but as quickly as it came, it suffocates in your throat. Your eyes double and you peer closer to the scene unravelling - it’s him. “What the..”

The thin trees with curling branches become motionless as the whipping wind stills, a few leaves twirling down to the ground. The cloud shifts, black smog cleared by the yellow luminescent light; it casts a soft glow around his form, his skin soaking in the warmth and eyes flaming with a twinkle. Your breath hitches, heart batter against your chest like a knuckle to a door, pleading for permission to enter. And you despise how cliché it all is - how time feels like it stops, how you can feel and not logically scrutinize why you sense a link to him. It’s as if there’s an invisible silk ribbon, tying yourself to him and him to you, putting you at mercy to his hand.

A curse sounds past your breath.

He is dressed in a rugged plaid shirt, shabby clothing that unfortunately doesn’t take away from his objective handsome outer appearance. But what irritates you even more is the idiotic, foolish grin that adorns his face. His cheeks are swollen, eyes are crinkled into ignorant bliss as he assistants the elderly lady with her heavy brown bags. Elderly. A human far past their prime and no longer useful for procreation nor their knowledge, years of wisdom flown away with their awareness.

The stranger, Kim Seokjin, crouches down to grab her bags and smiles once more as she loops her arm around his bigger one, helping to walk across the alleyways. Without realizing, your finger on the trigger slips. The ray gun falls, your arm drops. You falter.

His head darts back and his shuffling feet halt. It’s as if he, like you, has automatically sensed a presence. It’s an instinct, the subconscious mind screaming out to draw the both of you together. It’s a reflex, like jolting away from the heat of a flame, a reaction that you cannot control. Destiny has binded your futures together.

You immediately inhale a sharp breath, turning around to remain unseen, undisturbed in the shadows. You hope he didn’t catch you and you don’t linger so he can. Within the next heartbeat, you swipe the fallen weapon and withdraw the hoverboard from your bag. As you make your escape, you can only curse him a million times over.

“Dammit. I’ll get you, Kim Seokjin.” Your body tears through the air, hair whisking back. “Even if it’s the last thing I goddamn do!”  

Jin’s eyes narrow at the tree. He swears...he saw someone there.

//

Being in control means everything and more. Disregarding that it may be one step too many, it’s better to be prepared when expecting the worse. That’s why you’re on the cold floor, constructing a robot in early hours of the morning instead of working on the rockets to eradicate mortal life.

The time of day doesn’t hold any significance to you, you’ve worked past midnight on countless occasions previously. The measurement of time is merely a human construct after all, an individual shouldn’t allow the concept to rule their life. However, it has been two full days since you slept. You’ve been working on a pill to decrease the length of rest necessary, though you must admit, it’s on the backburner.

“Your. android. to. exterminate. Kim. Seokjin. is. at…” Elise pipes up, the screen monitor showing blueprints of your new machine. “...fifty. percent. until. completion.”

“Good. Good.” You rub your sweaty hands together and wipe your forehead.

“You. have. approximately.” She takes a second to calculate. “one. hour. left. until. losing. consciousness. due. to. exhaustion.”

You hum in a delayed response. In case something happens to you, which it won’t, you’re constructing a cyborg to finish your mission. It’s sole purpose is to dispose of Kim Seokjin.

In the next twenty minutes, you clasp your hands together, standing to your feet. Elise flicks off the lights, blessing you farewell as the console goes dark into shut down. You retire to your room, flopping on top of the cool mattress. Exhaustion takes over and in your bleary mind, you conclude that more information will be necessary to obtain on the stranger. If you can find his weaknesses, obliterating the man will be child’s play. Then and only then can you finally reach your ambition…

//

“Where is he…?” You mutter, scoping the premise and scowling when you can’t find the human. As dirty and overpopulated the town is, hundreds of others have probably walked past you now.

There seems to be no other choice. You’ll have to rise from the bushes and go actively seeking out the stranger. It’s better that way, rather than hiding for another three hours and allowing your legs to become more numb than they are.

As you raise your hood and look both ways until the coast is clear, you beseech any higher power that your human interaction will be as limited as possible.

“Excuse me.” Someone interrupts your thoughts, a light tap on your left shoulder that has you flinching in dread and disgust. You haven’t even made it two minutes, ten meters before a member of the baboon species has bothered you. “I’m sorry. This must be so rude of me and I deeply apologize but have I met you somewhere befo-”

“What?” You bitterly bite, swiveling harshly on your heel and wondering what kind of beggar it is, dazed from greed and trying to scam you for wealth.

Except, you’re met with wide orbs the shade of chestnuts, doe and innocent eyes that seem genuinely soft. A tiny glimmer in his pupils light as he connects them with yours. The fingers that tapped your shoulder, now by his side, are the cause of your recoil. The simple touch had seeped through your cloak, pulsating your skin. Against science and pure logic, you’re afraid that if he lays another hand, sparks will conduct.

“Oh- I’m..uh..” He seems taken back as you are, shuffling awkwardly for a mere moment until he freezes altogether. He plasters his vision onto your features as if fearful that you’ll disappear into thin air and he’ll forget. “I’m Kim Seokjin.”

“I’m fully aware.” You grunt out incoherently.

He tips his head to the side in confusion, brows tangling. “What?”

That’s when it hits you. He’s seen your face. He’s looking it at it. right. now.

You stagger backwards with horror laced in your features, ready to vomit and scream - perhaps both at the same time. As if telepathic, he grabs your hand with concern washing over his appearance. “Are you okay? Miss?”

Fate seals in the deal. The brush of his thumb against your palm, collision of emotions enveloping your soul. He, too, frowns at the sudden feeling of warmth washing over inside of him. Goosebumps raise along your skin, your heart pauses for a brief moment. Addicted to the sense of comfort, he tightens his caress on your hand. “What-?”

You retract your hand from his grasps, urgently holding it up for inspection. From your sudden movement, his word becomes forgotten. After a good second of silence, he breaks out into a tiny smile. Your brows are furrowed together, orbs misty in contemplation. You’re completely aloof, unaware of your surroundings and distracted by the million thoughts spewing inside your brain.

“Miss? Excuse me?” Jin lowers himself to match your height and he waves a hand in front of your face. You instantly snap out of it, in alarm of his close proximity and for a mere flash, you catch the plushness of his lips-

Disengage. Disengage. Disengage.

Your own brain blares at you. Nonetheless, you find your limbs immobile, glued to the ground while you gaze back into his honey irises.

Y/N. You are currently speaking to the enemy. You have come into contact with the enemy.

Disengage. Disengage. Disengage immediately.

“Ha. Ha…..” You back away, shooting your hands out cautiously. “It was my pleasure meeting you, Kim Seokjin. Unfortunately, I have substantial matters to attend to. Farewell then.”

You run for the hills.

“Wait!” He shouts after your dashing form. “Will I see you again?”

You mutter spitefully under your breath. “Oh you will.”

Seokjin stands in the middle of the barren street, fully bewildered until he melts into a smile. How odd. With clasped hands, he turns and walks away. Though he can’t seem to stop his mind from thoughts of you. What a strange girl. What made him stop you, a stranger no less, in the middle of the road; he has no idea. It felt almost….instinctual.

He shakes his head, finding it a shame that he never caught your name.

//

It’s a bad idea.

You know it is. Never in your entire existence have you done something so illogical. Every decision you’ve made up to this point has been calculated and objective. Never have you been moved purely by desire and passion. Yet, here you are, looking for none other than Kim Seokjin.

“There you are!” He perks up, running from your peripheral vision and nearly scaring you half to death. “I thought I was never going to see you again!”

He huffs and puffs, having just sprinted and you curse under your breath. After a week of contemplation, you had decided to leave the dome to do more observations on your victim. How he found you so easily after you had been wandering around for half an hour is beyond your comprehension. Perhaps it's the intuition that binds you both together as soulmates - the man just happens to listen to his heart more than you do, hence, he was able to find you before you could find him.

Dammit.

A part of you up to this very moment refuses to believe the concept of soulmates. It must be by chance that he found you. Luck or rather, your unluckiness.

It’s your misfortune and his serendipity.  

You should’ve built that invisibility blanket you’ve been thinking about.

“I’m sorry.” Kim Seokjin scratches the back of his neck out of anxiousness. You wonder why your infamous hard stare hasn’t scared him off. “I know we haven’t properly met and I’m already acting like I know you. I don’t even know your name. It’s just the last time- I..um..”

You take out your hand, motioning him to silence as you often do to Elise. You’re saving him from his embarrassment and blunders. “Your apology has been received. Further contemplation is required before acceptance or rejection. Thank you, have a nice day.”

“Wait. Wait.” He catches up to you, matching your frantic pace. His legs cramp from the long strides but he ignores the sting. “I don’t know your name.”

“Is there any purpose for you to obtain the information of my name?”

“Yes.” He says firmly with a nod. “Call me crazy...it’s just a feeling….but I think we’ll be meeting each other a lot more. I want to see you.”

“You’re crazy.” You snarl back, flashing another cold glare before you clear your throat and pin your eyes straight ahead. Hopefully he’ll get off your back and you’ll be able to follow him from afar. “And I am certain that there won’t be any more encounters between our partnership. Not that there was any partnership in existence. Thank you. Goodbye.”

Kim Seokjin pouts. The homo sapien male or rather….child has the audacity to jut out his bottom lip and flash you the biggest puppy eyes. The second you catch it from your peripheral vision, you turn to him in absolute dismay. He stops walking and you’re also forced to a standstill.

He blinks once, batting his eyelashes.

“But I told you my name.” He whines. “Don’t you think it’s rather unfair, miss?”

“There is no reason for you to know.”

“There is a reason.” He asserts fearlessly. “I’m curious and interested in you. Not necessarily with a romantic perspective but I’m interested in you as a person. If you couldn’t tell, you’re a very beautiful lady with a smart and confident aura. I like it.” He scans you from top to bottom before murmuring- “I like you.”

You’re wholly stunned. You’ve never met nor interacted with someone so blunt before.

With a few dazed blinks in his direction, you crane your neck forward again and continue walking. “Why do you wear a black cloak?” He tips his head in curiosity, matching your pace that’s slower than before. “Where did you get it from?” Kim Seokjin frowns at the fabric, wondering if it is actually velvet and how you could possibly find the materials or sew something so luxurious in this day and age.

“You’re not from around here, are you?”  

You ignore his third question, strolling ahead casually. That is until a smaller, two meter tall, human species comes toddling in front of you. “Do you have spare change?” The tiny boy looks up to you with glistening eyes and you flinch, coiling back. Without realizing, you bump into Kim Seokjin’s chest and with a delay in reaction, his hands wrap around your shoulders to steady you.

“I think I do.” Kim Seokjin chirps up, letting go of you to dig into his pocket. “Here you go.”

The child’s orbs light up as he receives the golden coin and Jin mimics the grin, watching as the younger skips to the bread stand. “Don’t worry.” The man murmurs close to your ear, breaking you from your reverie and guiding you to continue walking ahead. “None of us are infected.”

For the first time, you take a good look around the town and to the people whose faces you’ve ignored. The mortals all range from age, some with wrinkled foreheads and others with doe eyes. A few are smiling while others are sulking but their appearances, though shabby with dirt stains marring their skin, is much like your own. “If we’re still alive, that means we’re immune to the disease. If not, we’d already be dead.”

You nod, allowing your thoughts to become your words. “Interesting. Those who were unaffected by the outbreak a century ago passed on the same genes to their offsprings.” Jin dips his head, acknowledging that you are indeed correct. “Fascinating how resilient the human species can be. However, that wasn’t why I was apprehensive about the child. I’m simply….not used to children.”

You’re not exactly sure why you’re expressing your troubles to him. “...their dirty hands and innocence. Humans in general, as a matter of fact. I am unfamiliar with them and rather uncomfortable with their excessive ignorance.”

Jin scoffs out of amusement, eyeing you quite closely as he walks by your side. “Aren’t you a human?”

“You don’t know anything about me.” You snap back. Making it to the end of the empty alley, it’s time for you to dismiss his presence from your life. “Farewell, Kim Seokjin.”

“Wait!”

You pull out your hoverboard from your knapsack, his eyes doubling in confusion on the device but you disregard his emotions. He’s going to die soon anyways. There’s no point in explaining anything to him.

As you step onto the floating device, you linger with a bit of hesitance, deciding to turn around and face him once more. That’s right, he’s going to die soon. There won’t be a problem in gracing him with one last gift. “I will reward the knowledge you have given me with my name. But beware, Kim Seokjin, your interest in me will only lead you closer to your demise.”

With no one in the vicinity, you disclose the information and in the next second, you’re flying away in the direction of your home.

He whispers it underneath his breath, prayer-like as his irises are transfixed on your retreating form. “Y/N.”

//

The lights are dimmed to nothing, shadows nonexistent as darkness has taken over. The only source of luminescence is the giant monitor behind your console, laying out blueprints and rotating the 2D model you’ve constructed. In order to get back onto schedule, you’ve been working at an astronomical pace. The shell and exterior of the killing android has been completed. All you need to do now is input the code you've created and modify the last microchips for any flaws.

Except, when you reach into your pocket, the small USB is absent.

“What..?” You dig inside all of your bags, even lifting the sole of your shoes to check if you hid it there for safety measures. “Elise.” She boots back up after resting. “Locate my Universal Serial Bus Flash Drive.”

“Locating.” She buffers for a millisecond. “The. data. storage. device. containing. the. code. for. Kim. Seokjin’s. assassination. has. been. misplaced. It. is. not. in. the. vicinity. of. the. area.”

“Dammit to all hell.” You drop down in your swivel chair. “Bring me the backup version.”

The next words she motionlessly utters, “backup. version. is. not. saved.”, causes a strangled screech to leave your throat.  

“WHAT?!”

“Auxiliary. automatic. save. mode. requires. a. system. update. I. have. reminded. you. previously. two. months. ago. however. you. informed. me that. time. cannot. be. wasted. and. all. efforts. must. be. put. into. destroying. humanity. Therefore. the. console. has. not. been. updated. since.”

“You better not be sassing me right now, Elise.” You retort sharply and she asks for pardon to which you dismiss her. “Nevermind then. Is there any way we can receive a copy of that information again?”

“No.”

Her cold cut answer leaves you dismayed, putting your head in your hands with a drawn out sigh. You’ll have to start anew which won’t be too horrendous considering you still remember some of the patterns. It’s the mere fact that eighty four hours of work has gone to waste and now you’ll have to do it over again; it’s inefficient and all because of your blunders.

As you lift your hands, ready to start flying over the keys of your console to begin a new program, there’s a clear heard knock. Knuckles to metal, reverberating to the ceiling and the empty spaces around your engines. It’s slow, to a beat of a funeral lullaby but distinct, cutting through the air. You hitch your breath and even Elise is silent, registering the sound as it’s an action that has never arisen before.

You still your movements, making sure that it’s true and not a hallucination. Then there’s another knock, three in rapid succession. “Elise….”

Ding, dong, doong, ding. Ding, dong, doong, ding.

A springy bell plays, echoing through your eardrums.

Since when did you put in a doorbell? More importantly, who was on the other side?

“Elise.” You calmly call her name. “Show me the security cameras around the premise and identify who is causing such a ruckus in my abode.”

All ten computer monitors and the large one against the wall flicker to the different surveillance cameras that have been installed in and around your metal dome. There’s one in your bedroom, three in the current room you’re in, a few in the surroundings areas and in your greenhouse and two outside the door. “Is that...oh my god...it’s-”

“Kim. Seokjin. has. been. identified.” She says. “Would. you. like. me. to. activate. the. sonic. blasters.”

You watch as he lingers on the outside of your steel door with naiveté, shifting the weight of his feet as he sways from side to side. He must be humming some kind of tune. His lips are upturned, adorning a reserved smile meant more for himself than for others. You wonder if he’s feeling chilly, the metal dome’s location is near snowy mountains, something you deliberately chose as it would prevent humans from running into your home. But here he is….

“Yes.” You murmur and the floor tile shifts next to you, a pillar rising to your abdomen with a button. One click is all it takes. One click and he will be burst into cinders. A simple movement and your problem will cease to exist. You’ll become closer to your goal. Kim Seokjin will die.

“Hello?” He innocently taps his hand onto the steel door again. “Is anyone home?”

From the gray of the camera shot, he visibly shudders and moves his hands to brush the goosebumps on his arms. His brown soft eyes scans the area behind him, taking a step back to look around. “Hello, Miss Y/N?”

The way he calls your name makes you wince and grit your teeth. You have the ability to do this, Y/N. You coax yourself, preparing by counting down from ten, tapping your feet with each number. He’ll erupt into space and you can continue on your path. You can do it.

“Hello?”

You can do it.

“It’s me, Jin!”

You can do this.

“Y/N?”

You can kill Kim Seokjin.

Your arm jolts and you slam down on the button, the muscles in your arm contracting at the mere power. There’s a reticence and then a smooth whoosh, the creaks ringing around the span of the cold room. You curse yourself underneath your breath, questioning the action that has been committed but it is too late for more contemplation. The time has arrived to deal with the consequences.

“Opening. the. entrance. for. Kim. Seokjin.”

The pillar next to you descends back underground and the floor tile sides back into place. The entrance button you nearly smashed on your console stays stuck down, something you’ll probably have to fix. With a frustrated exhale and the cautious strides that are getting closer and closer, you turn around in your swivel chair. “Welcome Kim Seokjin. How may I assist you today?”

His mouth if fully agape, staring up and down, at the floor to the ceiling, at your countless monitors before his eyes land on yours. “What is this place?”

“Great question.” You’ve decided - this wasn’t so bad. If anything, your victim just walked straight into the lion’s den. If anything, now that you have him cornered, assassinating him won’t be so difficult.

“This is where I reside. The metal dome reflects against harsh sunlight beams, in case the rays become dangerous, which they will one day in the far future. It’s also resistant to natural disasters, explosives and nuclear power. As you can see around here-” you motion to your console, “-I have access to contemporary technologies and sciences.” You inhale a breath from your rant. “Now that I’ve answered your question, it’s time you answer mine. How did you get here?”

He blinks at you five times, letting the information sink in. “I-uh...you dropped this.” Kim Seokjin holds up the small, black USB that you’ve lost. “And...uh..um...I-...you didn’t come back. So, I just walked in the direction you left in.”

The both of you don’t speak, merely staring at each other.

“You walked for four hours?”

“Yes.”

“In the cold?”

“Yes.”

Is he an idiot? Or is he just that benevolent?

“I must commemorate you for your perseverance.”

“Thank you.”

There’s yet another long pause and you take the opportunity to formulate a new plan.

He smiles at you, a tiny gesture that causes an irregular pattern to your heart. (You should really get that checked out by Elise in case you have some sort of illness). Jin is in an old gray sweater and dark pants, face fatigued and shoes dirty from the hard trek here. Something lodges inside your throat but you shake off the unidentifiable emotions, standing up.

“Well, I guess I can show you around.” You take a step back, joining his side as you motion to the large room. “This is….what you call a...living room. I have my console that controls everything, my computer screens and the engines I’ve been working on…” The entire expanse of the circular room is filled with gray machinery.

Jin nods and then hesitates to ask another question. “...do you have a couch?”

“No. It is unnecessary for my lifestyle.” You continue, walking towards the other end where you kick open a latch on the ground, the floor automatically moving upwards. “This is a staircase that leads to my own bedroom, where I may rest my eyes occasionally.” You point to the door a few meters away. “That leads to an underground railway system. It goes to the greenhouses in the arctic.”

“The arctic?” He is bombarded with a million more inquiries that swarm through his head, tipping his skull to the side as he wears a frown. “You grow your own food?”

“Yes.” You sit back down in your swivel chair. “The arctic is the perfect place, no human occupying the space there. Solar power is used to supply energy to the greenhouse.”

“Do you have a kitchen?”

“No. It is unnecessary.” You hitch your thumb to the espresso-like machine on the table near your future portal engine monitor. “I have constructed something more efficient. It is a drink that includes all the nutritional value required to sustain my life. The materials in my greenhouse are used to construct it.”

“Then do you farm?”

“No. I have robots and androids manning the stations.”  

He hums as if the answer was obvious and he takes another look around at the barren room. “You don’t have any windows at all?”

“Windows are unnecessary. I have surveillance cameras all over the premise.” You point to the ceiling. “However it is possible to shift the very top ceiling as it is glass. On days where I want to observe the constellations and other planets with my telescope, you know?”

He nods in skepticism. “Of course.”  

“Unfortunately, I haven’t been able to observe the cosmos for the past few months as I’ve been working on the destruction of this planet-” His ‘wait what?’ goes ignored by you. “Speaking of which, let me introduce you to Elise.”

You’re not exactly sure why you’re sharing all this classified information with him. Perhaps because you’re fully aware that he will perish within the next few hours and you’re simply enriching his last moments by sharing your immense knowledge. Seeking to make ignorant humans competent is virtually impossible but you’re having quite a lot of fun showing him your abode. You haven’t had an acquaintance to chat to in a long while and your chest swells with pride at your copious accomplishments.

“Welcome. Kim. Seokjin.” She says, voice emitting from the top of the room and he jumps back in surprise. “My. name. is. Elise. I. am. the. finalized. version. created. more. than. ten. years. ago. holding. the. database. of. all. information. and. the. foundation. of. Y/N’s. dome.”

You watch him closely. Perhaps he’s questioning if this is all a delusion part of his REM cycle.

It must be a lot to take in. He might think you’re some kind of mad scientist. Maybe just plain crazy and psychotic. He’s probably contemplating plans to go back to his village and gather a mob of people to crash your house with pitchforks.

Goddamit, you should’ve built the invisible shield around your dome sooner.

Except, against your own predictions, Kim Seokjin does not take off into the opposite direction and bang his fists on the metal door, screaming on the top of his lungs for freedom. Instead, his orbs light up and he rushes forward to your console, mouth dropping with a giant grin. “This is amazing! You’re amazing!” He turns towards you, grasping your hands within his. “Wow! I have no words.” He is awestruck, studying your home before staring back into your eyes. “All of this...it’s incredible.”

You can’t force down the smile that itches on your mouth. “I know.”

//

It’s been a full hour since his unexpected arrival.

Now it’s time for him to go. And by go, you mean for his soul to leave his body.

“It’ll just take a few more moments.” You reassure him to which he cheerfully nods, still staring at the equipment and machinery around.

You’re hunched over a table, constructing a shabby meal that will satisfy his tastes. You could’ve given him your usual vitamin concoction but he expressed mild disinterest in it, shaking his head with ‘no thanks’. Luckily for you, the ingredients that made the drink were the same ones that were included in what humans called….a salad.

“Elise...give me it.” You whisper, glad that you were able to tone down the volume of her voice.

A part of the wall pushes out, revealing the sharp needle with the green fluid. “After. consumption. his. demise. will. occur. in. less. than. two. minutes.”

“Good, good.” A mutter leaves parted lips as you push the liquid into the wine, swirling around the glass to dissolve the poison. You dispose of the needle before whipping around with the tray. “I apologize for taking up so much of your time. I am aware that you must be starving.”

“Oh no, not at all. Thank you.” He watches as you place down the plate in front of him and the glass of his special concoction. “Wow, you have wine too?”

You’re aware of the delicacy of the drink and how luxurious it is in this era. “Yes. My androids are able to create anything with the right materials. But don’t feel shy, feel free.”

You plop down into the seat across the long table, taken out from your storage. With each of his hesitant movements, you gawk at him with focus, peering at his plump lips as it intakes the food. He makes a humming noise as it is suitable to his taste buds and you smile at the..adorable gest- nevermind that. Focus Y/N.

“It’s delicious.” His voice is muffled with the mouthful. “I haven’t had something so fresh in so long.”

“Drink.”

He becomes startled by your command. “I’m okay for now.”

“I insist.”

There’s some silence before he gives in. “Alright.”

Kim Seokjin curls his fingers around the handle and lifts it to his pink lips. They part while he tips his head back. The red liquid brushes his tongue as he swallows, humming at the taste. “It’s good.” He gasps a breath, bringing it down. “You’re really amazing.”

You clear your throat, whispering. “Thank you.”

“I really mean it.” He melts into another smile. “I know I may have come across as a bit intruding, talking to you when you don’t know me and asking for your name. I even came all the way to this place to find you again. But you invited me in and even offered me all of this. I….this may come across as even more strange...but I feel naturally drawn to you. I’m not sure why. I just can’t….stop thinking about you.”

For a moment, you want to bring out your hand to quiet him down. You nearly falter, unable to cope with the honest compassion you’ve never been able to muster. And the way he gazes at you with a silly grin makes it even more difficult for you to endure the pain that you’re feeling.

It’s suddenly so terrifying and direful to imagine his dead body limp on the table. “Kim Seokjin…”

“You can call me Jin.” He tilts his head. “But-” The kind male adds on. “-only if I’m allowed to call you Y/N. Can I drop the ‘Miss’?”

You nod meekly. “You’re allowed to.”

“Good...Y/N.” He downcasts his head, giggling to himself at the way your name rolls off his tongue. It somehow feels so...right. It’s as if he was meant to call your name.

“Jin.” He perks up with the sound of his name being called past your lips. “Goodbye.”

Kim Seokjin...or rather, Jin...your one and only soulmate mars his face with his furrowed brows. Then in the second that his eyes twinkle, he slumps onto the surface of the table. The plate clatters to the floor and shatters harshly, a hundred pieces spraying into the air.

You stay staring at his form, how his breathing is becoming more and more shallow. It won’t take long at all.

It won’t take long.

“Elise?” You break the peaceful atmosphere, allowing your inner turmoils to be transpired by the shaking of your hands.

“Yes. Y/N. What. can. I. do. for. you.” Elise is motionless. She lacks the carefree spring of life. She cannot feel emotions, cannot smile or express mirth. You’ve made her this way. She’s suppose to be...perfect.

Yet, she feels empty.

“Elise.” You speak calmly. “Hand me the antidote.”

This man is a threat to your goal. He is a mere obstacle that would be best to dispose of. He has done nothing for you and most likely will never help you with your ambition. He will be the cause of your imminent doom.

Still, as these thoughts blare inside your brain like an emergency alarm, you take the fragile vial from the pillar and into your hand. Each step you take, each time your heel grazes against the frigid tiles, getting closer and closer to the man named Kim Seokjin, it is as if time extends out. The weight that your feet carries grounds you to reality - what are you doing?

The cap is popped off by your thumb and you swing back your head, letting the bitter fluid lay on your tongue. You throw the vial onto the ground, letting it fragmentize with the shards of the plate. In one motion, you lift his face with your hands cupping his cheeks and you tilt your own head, meeting his lips. They’re soft like velvet but a kiss is merely a social construct. If individuals don’t allow it to become significant then it isn’t. But you can’t help but let your eyes flutter shut, your heart pound within its cage.

You part his mouth, allowing the antidote to quench his thirst.

Five seconds. Ten. Fifteen. His body knows what it needs and he instinctively swallows the cure. Twenty. Thirty. Fourty. Fifty.

A full minute.

You drop your hold on him and he slumps back onto the table. A soft sigh leaves past his swollen mouth and his breathing evens. His heart palpitates back to it’s normal beat. And you’re left staring at his sleeping form, linger for a few moments before you turn and walk away.

Dammit. You saved him. Dammit to all hell. A million curses would not sedate the rage that riots inside your soul. He is the bane of your existence.

But you won’t lie - you let the kiss last longer than it needed to be.

//

The dawn has fallen. Then dusk had come but that too fell. When dawn broke once more, that’s when you shifted from your position in your swivel chair. You had been crouched over, hands clasped together in a prayer position, simply pondering the next course of action. But you had none.

“Show me him.” Your voice cracks and the screen monitor switches to his form thrown haphazardly on the bed.

After he had fallen into hibernation, you had transported him into a guest room. Well, the guest room was more like a prison. Okay, the guest room is a prison. It had a one sized person bed, a toilet, a security camera in the corner and the rest of the space was made up by the iron walls and steel door. You built it with the purpose in the unlikely event that would require you to keep someone captive.

“Is he alive?”

Elise answers. “Yes. He. is.”

“Good.” A steady exhale sounds as you move back. “Elise, what do you suppose I should do with him?”

She registers the inquiry, running through all the possibilities to find the most suitable answer. “Ending. his. life. will. be. most. efficient. And. it. is. the. best. method. You. can. also. isolate. him. away. from. society. and. remove. him. from. yourself. but. there. is no. reason. to. keep. him. alive. at. all. He. is. no. match. to. your. greatness. He. serves. you. no. purpose. Kim. Seokjin. will. ultimately. prevent. you. from. destroying. the. world.”

“I’m fully aware.” You groan within your hands. “I know, Elise.”

Never has a simple task been of so much difficulty.

Jin awakes as you’re still burdened with your many choices. He frowns and flinches before stretching out his stiff limbs. He coughs once and pulls back his lids, blinking a few times to clear his foggy vision. Despite the soreness in his neck and the aching of his arm as if someone had to physically haul him and throw him onto the mattress, never has he felt better. It’s like he’s congested the elixir of life.

He sits up and scans the tiny room. When he stands and makes his way to the door, the doorknob that he holds falls into his hand. “Uh…..sorry.” Jin places the brass knob onto the floor before knocking at the steel. “Hello? Anyone there? Y/N?”

With no answer, he looks around again before noticing the surveillance camera in the corner.

He stares directly at it. “Y/N?”

“He. is. awake.” Elise informs you and switches the monitor screen to the current live footage. You groan again, wondering if you should give him a sedative - buy more time so you can further weight each option you have.

“What should I do?”

“Y/N?” He calls again, tapping the lense of the device. “Hello?”

That’s when you snap. The many neurons in your brain light its path, creating a sensory overload. The stress oppresses your lungs and your throat tightens. You know the logical solution to your problem but you can’t….won’t. But if you keep him alive...if you keep him around….what will happen?

Right as you’re about to scream your head off - it clicks.

You’ll kill him. One way or another. But slowly.

You’re going to have to gradually kill Kim Seokjin.

You’ll lead him to his death through a leisure and painful way. If you feed him and ensure that he overeats his own capacity, he’ll die in a food coma. Perfect. It’s completely perfect.

MUHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAA!

“Kim Seokjin.” You eye him through the screen, pointing to his innocent features. “You’re going to stay with me until death takes you or me.”

[megsblackfirewrites]

Working With The Reaper: Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Jack did his best to smile as he resisted the urge to break the Staff Sergeant's nose. Yes, yes, he had bright golden hair the same colour as corn. Yes, yes, he had ludicrously long eyelashes. Yes, yes, he used concealer to take some of the redness out from his scars. Could they get on to the fact that he was supposed to be shown to his office and not grilled over being “girly”? Because he would really like a chance to get settled into his new environment before he had to actually do his fucking job.

Not that the Staff Sergeant seemed to care. That nasty grin and taunting voice irked Jack to his core. He’d met more than enough assholes like him during his time in the army. They were all the same brand of douchebag. If you weren’t overtly macho and meat-headed, you were some sort of disgrace to all men or something. It was annoying and tiresome; he really did wish they just gave it a rest and grew up. He had better things to do with his time than waste brain cells on them.

“Patterson, aren’t you supposed to be running plates?” a voice demanded.

The man flinched and turned to look at the source of the demand. “Uh, just showing the new guy around,” he said.

“Impressive, considering he has a higher rank than you,” the regal man crossed his arms over his chest.

There was a severity to his gaze that Jack could appreciate. Not a bad looking man, but not someone Jack would be interested in personally. This definitely wasn’t someone that was used to having their authority ignored, especially by those of lower rank. He would have to remember that if he didn’t want to get on their bad side.

“Get back to your desk before the chief finds out you were harassing our veteran with your stupidity,” the man ordered.

Jack watched Patterson scurry off and snorted. “Thanks,” he said.

“You looked like you could use the help,” the man smiled and held out his hand. “Hanzo Shimada.”

“Jack Morrison,” he said as he shook Hanzo’s hand. “You’re my new partner?”

“Yes,” Hanzo chuckled. “Don’t mind Patterson; he’s generally an ass, but he’s good at his job.”

“Sounds like every other job I’ve worked,” Jack chuckled. “So, I’m supposed to have an office on this floor somewhere?”

“Follow me,” Hanzo nodded as he set off down the hallway. “I’ll let you get situated before we go do our rounds. Overwatch doesn’t have a high crime rate this time of the year, but Petras doesn’t like patrol routes growing moss. Likes to remind everyone that we’re still here watching even if there isn’t much to see. Keeps the real criminals from trying anything and the petty ones on their toes.”

“Understandable,” Jack said as he stepped into his office. “Cozy.”

It was cramped and not built for someone his size. He didn’t think even his skinny-ass sixteen year old self would have fit in this office comfortably. The walls were too close and the shelves were cramped in against each other. At least there was a window he could open. That should help stave off a little bit of the claustrophobia crawling up his throat.

“It’s where everyone starts out,” Hanzo shrugged. “Don’t worry; one of the higher ups is getting ready to retire. Then we’ll all get to do the office shuffle and everyone will get more room. Other than the sucker that gets stuck in here, of course.”

Jack chuckled as he set his things down and stretched. “How long have you been on the force?” he asked as he started getting his things in order on the desk.

Pictures of his family; check. Stress cube because a stress ball would just roll off the desk; check. Personal pens because his knuckles were starting to get touchy about the rubber grips on most pens; check. Not bad for his first day. He’d even managed to not forget his cup for paperclips even though he wasn’t sure if anyone even used those in Overwatch anymore.

“Fifteen years total; six in Overwatch,” Hanzo shrugged a shoulder. “Not the career path my parents wanted, but it’s my own path to walk.”

“Could be worse,” Jack smirked. “Could be a drug dealer.”

Hanzo gave a tight smile. “They probably would have preferred that,” he sighed. “They have a low opinion of anyone that is not in business.”

“Oh, joy,” Jack rolled his eyes as he set the bobble-head pug on his desk. “Well, I’m ready for the five-cent tour.”

“Better than the two-cent one,” Hanzo smirked. “There really isn’t much to see. The most you have to worry about is the way to your office and the way to Petras’. Everything else can be found in five minutes.”

They walked down the hallway and Jack stopped to look at the pictures of past Chief of Police in the city. He frowned at one name plate and tilted his head to the side. There was no picture sitting above it and it was clear that there never had been one.

“Where this guy’s picture?” he asked as he tapped ‘Gabriel Reyes’.

“No one knows; apparently, the framed photo was destroyed in transit and a new one was never commissioned,” Hanzo replied with a careful shrug. “Best not to talk too loudly about it here. Petras doesn’t like being reminded of his dead partner and predecessor.”

Jack frowned and shook his head. After a quick tour of the station; it was the exact same set up as every other station he’d ever been in; Hanzo led him out to the cruiser. A German Shepherd barked at them as they approached, fangs bared and saliva flying from its jowls. Hanzo hushed him quickly.

“Sorry, Minami’s a little protective,” Hanzo chuckled.

“You’re with the K-9 unit?” Jack asked as Hanzo opened the door.

“Yes,” Hanzo nodded. “My old partner’s retired; Kita’s enjoying life as a lazy old dog in my sunroom. Minami’s got another year before he’ll be joining her.”

“You get to keep them?” Jack smiled as he let Minami sniff his hand.

“It’s part of the agreement with the unit,” Hanzo smirked. “Kita and Minami wouldn’t listen to anyone else on the force after being with me and my superiors don’t like the thought of sending them to homes where they might bite someone.”

“Not a good ending for service dogs,” he agreed as he scratched behind Minami’s ears. “Who’s a good boy?”

Minami wagged his tail before jumping back in the cruiser when Hanzo whistled. They climbed in and Hanzo pulled out onto the street.

“This is unit 245,” he said as he drove. “Dispatch has a lot of different codes, but any that have 245 at the end are for us.”

Jack nodded. Simple enough. He was going to screw it up at least once or twice. That was inevitable. First day on the job and all that jazz. No one would hold it against him, hopefully. They’d all been the new blood at some point. No use picking on the new guy.

Hanzo drove down their route, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel as Minami poked his nose against the metal separator. They pulled over at one point so that Hanzo could speak to a couple of kids on bikes in what Jack guessed was Japanese. He couldn’t say for certain; he personally only spoke two languages and that was about it.

“Korean, actually,” Hanzo corrected when Jack mentioned it. “They’re from my neighbourhood and I was making sure they were staying out of trouble.”

The radio went off and Hanzo gave Jack a flat look. Jack blinked before fumbling for the hand-piece. Whoops, there was the inevitable screw up.

“Unit 245,” he replied.

“That took a while to answer; new guy?” dispatch asked.

“Yah,” he coughed. “What’s going on?”

“Robbery going on down at Joe’s Food Mart,” dispatch sighed. “You’re the closest unit.”

“Heading there now,” Jack replied as Hanzo snapped the sirens on.

Vehicles moved out of the way and they drove quickly to the grocery store that was getting robbed. Hanzo parked the car and popped the back door open as they spotted one lone, balaclava -lad person booking it across the parking lot.

“Minami, go,” Hanzo ordered.

Minami charged after the fleeing person, jumping up to knock them to the ground. Hanzo and Jack raced after the dog, Hanzo whistling to call the shepherd off before he did any real damage to the thief. Jack snapped a pair of cuffs onto the person’s wrists and read them their rights. They left Minami to guard them, smirking as he growled every time the person moved.

They approached the store and heard the rapid-fire retort of a semi-automatic rifle. Jack hissed and put his shoulder against the door, waiting for Hanzo to nod. He shoved forward, lifting his gun up as Hanzo barked out an order to get on the ground. The frightened customers immediately pressed themselves against the ground while the lone thief stood shaking in the corner, their handgun clutched to their chest.

“On the ground,” Jack ordered as he advanced on the thief. “Don’t make me say it again.”

“Jace went to the roof,” the thief blurted out as they dropped the gun and immediately fell to their knees. “Please! The Reaper’s got him!”

“Who?” Jack asked as he cuffed the thief.

“Reaper,” the thief whined. “He’s one of the masked men. He’s got Jace!”

Jack growled and ran a hand down his face. That was the one thing he wasn’t looking forward to in Overwatch. Vigilantes were everywhere. Anyone that could put on a mask did so and ran around doling out “justice” when they believed the system had failed them. Theft of property, espionage, breaking and entering; all of it was used when these vigilantes believed the cops weren’t doing enough. And it was always their definition of “enough” that was used. Forget red tape and the fact that things took time to process; gotta go out on their own and beat the shit out of some random suspect that they believe did the crime. Who needs solid evidence when you could just go punch the perp in the face? Idiots.

“Going to get the last one,” Jack shouted to Hanzo before he darted up the stairs towards the roof.

He had an idea of what to expect from a vigilante named Reaper, but he really wasn’t expecting what he found. The man was taller than him, bound in kevlar, muscular as all hell, and packing serious heat. His sawed-off shotgun was pressed against the back of the last thief’s head, his finger sitting on the trigger. A bone white mask like the face of an owl turned towards him and Jack slowly lifted his hands.

“I’m putting my gun away,” he said slowly. “This doesn’t have to end in bloodshed.”

The white mask followed his hand as he put the gun back in his holster. Jack lifted his hands, splaying his fingers wide. The vigilante’s stance didn’t relax.

“I’m going to take a step closer,” Jack said. “Just a step. That’s it.”

He slid his boot forward and watched the vigilante. They remained tense, but he could see the dangling hand twitching towards the second shotgun hanging from his belt. Jack spread his hands wide.

“Thank you for subduing the thief,” he said. “I’ll take him down to the station now.”

The vigilante growled at him and pressed the shotgun harder against the whimpering man’s head, twisting the muzzle sideways. Jack kept his expression neutral. He didn’t want the vigilante to see how nervous he was. He didn’t want them to think they had more power than they did. He wanted the thief punished properly and a buckshot to the head was not justice.

“He’s a thief, Reaper,” he said. “Blowing a thief’s head off isn’t really justice, is it? That is what you want, right? Justice for the store owner?”

The white mask turned before Reaper pointed towards the discarded rifle. Jack glared at it and then at the thief. So this was the asshole that had a semi-automatic. For fuck sake; was this guy trying to compensate for a small dick or something? Fucking hell; who brought a fucking AK to a grocery store robbery?

“Bringing a rifle of that caliber to a robbery is overkill, but if he didn’t actually use it, he doesn’t deserve to die,” Jack said. “I’m going to take a few steps closer so we can talk face to face.”

He slid closer, waited a moment, and took another step. Reaper watched him approach, as unmoving as a statue. He was less than an arm’s reach from Reaper, his hands still up and away from his gun and every other device he could use on the vigilante to beat them into submission. He wanted trust, however small it might be, and he wanted the vigilante to co-operate.

“This doesn’t have to end in bloodshed,” he repeated.

Reaper moved so fast Jack only had a moment to tense before the muzzle of the second shotgun was shoved under his jaw. Reaper loomed over him, his finger resting on the trigger.

“And what if I want it to?” Reaper growled.

His voice was heavily distorted, more of a rasp than an actual voice. It sent a tremor down Jack’s spine, but he kept his breathing even as he looked into the black slits where Reaper’s eyes would be. Now was not the time to show fear. He wasn’t in control of the situation, he knew that, but he wanted Reaper to hand him the control. Hostage situations were always dangerous and this one was no different. He just had to be careful.

“You want to add ‘killed a cop’ to the list of things you’ve done today?” Jack asked. “Look, Reaper, I get it. Sometimes the system fails because some jackass gets a really good lawyer and can walk away without ever suffering for what they did. I get that. It frustrates the hell out of me too, but killing this thief isn’t going to solve that.”

“Would definitely send a message,” Reaper growled. “Don’t fuck with my city.”

“It’s not your city,” Jack said. “You aren’t the law here, Reaper. You can’t play judge, jury, and executioner. That’s not how justice works. That’s never been how justice works.”

Reaper paused and slowly cocked his head to the side. He let out a low laugh before pulling the shotgun away from Jack’s jaw. Jack worked it slowly in relief, watching Reaper closely.

“You are such a Boy Scout,” Reaper chuckled. “Not even a glimmer of rust under that golden exterior, huh?”

Before Jack had a chance to respond, Reaper twisted and smashed the shotgun against the thief’s head. They dropped like a rock, blood gushing down his face from a split eyebrow.

“The hell are you doing?” Jack demanded as he went to move. “That’s going to get blamed on me, you ass-mmph!”

Jack stiffened as a warm mouth pressed over his. He tried to look at his nose to get an idea of what Reaper looked like, but the bone white mask was situated in just the right way to hide his facial features. Reaper pulled away and Jack caught sight of a bright red tongue rolling over dark lips before the mask was back in place.

“See you around, Boy Scout,” Reaper chuckled before there was a flash of smoke.

Jack coughed and waved the smoke away, glaring at the spot Reaper had been. He rubbed his lips self-consciously because damn did the man know how to kiss before he cuffed the thief and hauled him back down the stairs with the rifle slung over his shoulder.

Hanzo did his best not to bristle as Petras heaped praise on Jack. The Chief was smiling and clapping Jack’s shoulder, almost as if he had stopped the robbery all by himself. Because the new boy on the block could totally take on three armed robbers by himself without any back up. Jack smiled politely as Petras continued talking, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes.

“While I appreciate your approval, Chief, my partner did most of the heavy lifting,” Jack said. “He calmed the patrons, sent Minami after the first thief that was trying to flee, and kept the second thief subdued while I retrieved the third. If you should praise someone, praise him.”

Hanzo shot Jack a curious look. He’d had a number of partners over the years and no one dared to talk back to Petras. It was strangely refreshing if not worrying. What was Petras going to do to the new guy since it was clear he didn’t understand the pecking order around here?

An uneasy smile spread across Petras’ face. “Ah, yes, Captain Shimada,” he said. “You did exceptional as well. You handled the situation better than most; I’m pleased that no one was shot.”

“Firing on civilians is unnecessary,” Hanzo inclined his head. “If you are finished with us, sir, I will get started on my paperwork.”

“Of course,” Petras smiled before waving them both out of his office. “I expect good things from you, Jack.”

Jack inclined his head as they left the office. He kept his face neutral until they stepped into Hanzo’s office. As soon as the door closed, his pretty face immediately turned down in a scowl and he let out a low growl.

“It’s a bad sign if I already hate my boss,” he growled. “Is he always like that?”

“Usually,” Hanzo sighed as he activated his holographic interface and brought up the paperwork they needed to fill out. “He tries to soften you up with praise. Never heard someone talk back to him before. It’s strangely refreshing.”

“I’ve had drill sergeants more terrifying than him,” Jack chuckled. “He hardly fazes me. Bullies rarely have the brains to be imaginative.”

Hanzo laughed before tossing the screen over to Jack to start on his paperwork. “Bully indeed,” he agreed.