Poison and Bane

8. Entrapment.

August, 25th

05:07 AM

Kim Taehyung.

The minute a foot dropped onto the carpeted floor, I was wide awake. I nearly bolted out of bed, and would have attacked the person too, if I hadn't recognised his scent.

What was this boy up to this time?

I took me every bit of grit to lie still, and listen to him shuffling around. The faint odour of musty socks invaded my nostrils and I held my breath for a moment, so it could pass.

The following thud of his feet were muffled, and I could hear the rustle of leather rubbing together while he shrugged on a jacket. Poorly oiled dressers creaked open and close, while moth balls rattled within the crevices of the neatly laundered, and folded clothes.

He knows I can and will hear him, so where was he sneaking off to?

"Hyung,"

I didn't give any hint of my being aware, but remained motionless. Eyes closed, the epitome of peaceful slumber.

I hadn't intended to invade his privacy, these past weeks, by breathing down his neck. Telling him what to do and where to go, and when and how. I didn't want him to think that I was honing in on every single one of his moves. But....

"Hyung," I heard him sigh. "I'm going out for a bit. I'll be back, don't worry. But...don't follow me, please. I....I just need a little air."

The moment his scent diminished to traces, as he walked out the front door, I sat up in bed. When I heard his footsteps scrape the last few cobbled steps of our apartment porch, I pulled on a jacket of my own, pocketed my phone and walked into the night. Falling in step with his shadows.

Dead end.

Again.

I slammed a fist over the concrete ledge, as I scanned the rest of the rooftop for any signs left of his presence.

Nothing.

Except for his now fading scent. But it was a bit tricky to discern whether it was from the many times he frequented this particular spot or from him being here a while ago. He had covered his tracks well. A little too well, and I was conflicted as to what to feel about it. Pride for how far he'd come in his skills, or annoyance for his stubbornness.

I scanned the alleys lining either side of the building. The occasional rat ran from and to dumpsters and sewer tunnels. A man rummaged in one of the many discarded garbage bags, but his scent put me off. Beneath the hood, and the low drawn cap, there was only the odour of desperation and abandonment.

Nothing of the vivacious, strong-willed Lycan I was looking for.

He had been here, but not anymore.

I sighed, and dropped my head back to look up at the sky. Clouds were scarce and the only ones there, were mere wisps. The stars still stood out against the fading night sky. The midnight hue was almost gone, being replaced with a lighter blue and brighter pinks.

Then I noticed the Moon, and I knew where I had to go. It was a waxing crescent and it was almost dawn.

As I neared the beach, I felt more confident in my prediction. His
scent was stronger than ever, despite trees shrouding me from either side and the sea breeze weaving between them. I couldn't risk reaching out to him through the Link, so I stuck to tracking.

As Lycans, we were all drawn to the Moon. So I never found it peculiar when he left the house at the most odd hours of the night, to spend it under the skies. Though it was later that I noticed how he never missed a single crescent.