𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐧𝐭 | 𝐤.𝐦.𝐠

eleven

Streethlights reflected through the raindrops glistening at the ends of Jeonghan’s bangs. The rims of his eyes matched the redness of his nose tip, and as he stood drenched on the bridge, clouds obscured the moon overhead, basking him in darkness every now and then. Cars shot by in the speed of light on the emptiness of the road at the late hours of the night, and a small smile crept across his face as he leaned back against the railing, allowing the skies to bathe him in water. The cold slowly crept to his bones, releasing a shudder as his teeth began to lightly rattle, immediately replaced by warmth of the familiar voice that sounded at his side. He had noticed Joshua parked at the margin of the road, several meters back, watching him intently from inside the car, wondering how long it would take him to actually come forth.

“You’re really hell-bent on catching a cold I see.”

“Wouldn’t that be a fun change?” Jeonghan retorted, swiping back his wet locks. “Why are you here?”

“Why are you here?” Joshua said, flicking open the black umbrella he carried. “Bridges aren’t friendly, especially not for you.”

Jeonghan shrugged turning to face the river. A yacht with shimmering lights passed at a distance, muffled sounds of jazz melodies echoing across. Joshua stared at the man in front of him, so different and grown from the teenager he was when they first met, yet still the same. The mischeif in his eyes forever betrayed the torment hiding in the corners, his smirk as bitter as his expression. He took of the leather gloves he wore, and grabbed Jeonghan’s hands, gently putting them on.

“You never take those off.”

“Well, now I have a reason to,” Joshua said, meeting his eyes. “A friend needs them more than I do.”

Joshua hated winter, and it took him a chill to drag Jeonghan to the car, against his protests, and turn the heater on. Both men sat in silence after that, their thoughts loud between them.

“You’re not thinking about it again, Jeonghan, are you?”

“I don’t know, sometimes I find myself slipping into those intrusive thoughts, they come and go, but I haven’t given in,” Jeonghan said, squeezing Joshua’s shoulder. “Not yet, anyways, so don’t worry.”

“I don’t trust you with yourself,” Joshua said, shaking his head.

“Is that why you and and Seungcheol are shadowing me these days?” he snickered, lifting his feet up on the dashboard. “I’m fine, Jisoo, I promise.”

“How about we stop bullshitting and drop the masks for a bit?” Joshua said, smacking his knee in annoyance. “And take your feet off my dashboard, bitch.”

Jeonghan sighed, “Buy me coffee first.”

In his mind, Joshua was fighting between throwing back a witty retort or conform into his wishes. He bit his tongue anyway, starting the car and driving forward. His slicked back hair had gone astray, and it felt alien not having his hands covered by the velvet inside of his gloves, but what felt familiar was the peace he felt, the quiet in his chest, the familiarity of him and Jeonghan sitting together in a car going fast on the highway.

Nights like this reminded him why he was still holding on in that place, the organization that both he and Jeonghan hated.  The organization that claimed to save their lives but only made them assassins for hire, while masking the horrific nature of the job under the term “protecting victims” and promising that they were eliminating the bad guys.

He had granted Jeonghan’s request for hot capuccino and opted for a cold brew himself, shifting around to face his friend, urging him to talk.

“I’m not suicidal if that’s what you’re asking,” Jeonghan said, cussing under his breath when the coffee scorched his tongue. “But I have been thinking about the past for a bit too much lately, especially with Wonwoo’s case, and Sarang’s breakdowns. I keep going back to the night that changed everything, and sometimes I just wish I was caught by the police and just rotted in jail until my time was done, I killed someone afterall, but again, didn’t we all?”