As the hours ticked by, you had been sitting so deep into your leather sofa, that you were concerned, maybe you'd never make it back out.
The previous phone call you shared with your boss had got you thinking about a lot of things. Considering the way it all made you feel, you wanted to let the couch consume your body, mind and soul.
You wanted to disappear.
—————
"Hello?"
"Hello, Red. I have news."
Fantastic.
"It's about your next assignment. Do you have some paper on hand?"
You sat up, reaching for the pen and booklet on your coffee table. "Yep. I assume it's going to be big?"
She paused. "Your biggest."
You gulped.
You weren't sure if you were lively enough to put so much discipline into such a big project at the moment, but you had to be prepared to anyway.
"Infiltrate and access information. It's a retrieval task. The target is a family. You get in, stay in, get what we need, and get out. It should all be smooth sailing, for the most of it. But it's no small job."
You wrote down the words: 'retrieval', 'in and out', and 'family'.
"Mhm. Under cover? Could take months."
"You don't have to worry about double-booking. I'll get low-tiers to do the smaller jobs, so you and your partner can focus." she spoke quickly, like she was in a rush for whatever reason. "If you could come by the agency and pick up the task file, your burn phone, and your partner, we can get into the details."
"Partner?" you asked attentively.
"Yes. I took into consideration, for this job, just how big of a target we're looking at. And, after digging through the intel of the Yakuza elites, I came to the conclusion that it's far too dangerous to send you in alone."
"But, don't you think I can handle-"
"I'm not a fool, I know you're capable, but you understand I can't risk losing you in the field, Red. And...actually I have a meeting now, so save the questions for later." It was odd that she was in such a rush, because she normally sends stand-ins into her meetings on her behalf.
Unless, of course, they're of very high importance.
Like right now.
She likes to keep her nails un-chipped where possible.
"Got it."
Of course you did.
"The files will tell you everything you need to know, and you and Reaper need to go through them together."
"Reaper!?"
Right...your new partner.
She didn't say anything else. But she couldn't actually be serious, assigning you with a partner for the first time in years. But not just that, she also assigned a new recruit to you. Someone she doesn't assuredly know anything about.
The whole thing felt almost fabricated.
Your next few seconds of additional silence signified that you had agreed to the task at hand.
"See you soon, Red."
You hung up the phone and briefly contemplated self-inflicted death. You didn't want to believe that you had to work with someone so stubborn.
And, above all, she had chosen an under-cover mission?
Those are the most time consuming, and tedious.
There was not even an inch of you that was willing to compromise with the man she had assigned you. To let your walls down, and let his help aid you.
You were nothing but frustrated.
—————
Somehow, someway, Reaper had convinced you to follow him down the street, once you had both left the HQ building.
Of course, you had no obligation to keep him company once your work for the day had ended, and you had already collected the case files.
But, you had thought that maybe there was something you could gain from tailing him, like he had asked you to.
Something in the air, maybe.
It smelled of potential.
The sun was out. It's warmth kissed every inch of the city, except for the shadows that cast through the concrete jungle. And it just so happened to be the magic of the divine creator's craft, that you and Reaper ended up walking in said shadows.
"Why are you leading me this way?" you asked.
It was a good thing for Reaper that you were so good at practicing patience. You always maintained your composure; even in the most indefinite moments.
Delayed gratification.
You appreciated it.
"I'm taking you to my apartment. We can talk this all over, there. We need somewhere quiet to figure out the strengths and weaknesses of this whole thing." Reaper explained his thought process with a certain conviction that must have come from his sparkling elegance. "Plus, my hyung is there and he'll give us his input, which you might find to be-"
"Your brother?" you snapped, "You're joking."
"Not in the slightest," Reaper replied smugly, after getting over the shock of being interrupted. "Whistler already knows all about the mission."
You turned to him, halting the walk.
"Are you stupid? Boss will have you killed if she finds out about that." you deadpanned, wanted to come off as threatening, more so than worrying. "And if she won't, I will. I won't risk being exposed because of your incompetence, okay?"
Reaper scoffed, "Yeah, well, Boss will kill me if she wakes up on the wrong side of the bed, any given morning. So, i'll take my chances."
Fuck.
What is he doing?
To be fair, Reaper was absolutely right. The boss would kill him if she happened to wake up in a bad mood.
She'd kill him, the same way she killed his dad.
Through you.
But what logic was he playing at?
'I could die anyway so might as well see how many people I can piss off in the meantime'
Your eyes were squinting at him as you soon noticed his little plump cheek twitch upwards into framing what looked to be a very playful smirk. He knows you know.
He's toying with you.
Then, you clocked onto the fact that Reaper had kept walking ahead, so you break into a small jog to catch up and walk alongside him.
Just to get some more answers.
"Cut the shit, this isn't a game." you said sharply, "And who the fuck is Whistler?"
Sparing not even a glance, Reaper says: "My partner."
This man will be the death of you.
You felt the temperature of your blood increase as your frustrations with Reaper heighten.
Good looks and a nonchalant charm had never been enough to sway you, before. So, you weren't going to lose your firm perseverance to wrong him.
You couldn't.
"That's not right. I have the file in my backpack that says I'm your partner." you paused briefly. "Don't get me wrong: I wouldn't be complaining if the boss changed her mind about you."
He scoffed.
"You're one of my partners, yes," he continued, keeping his pace quick. "But not the only one."
You didn't respond. You felt yourself grow bitter, and short-tempered every time Reaper opened his mouth.
He seemed to realise that.
"I have my secrets, as do you." he replied sedately, somewhat softly. "I'm just adapting to the agency's rules."
Maybe what triggered you the most, was that you were not used to speaking to a man your age, with this much sense.
He actually had some kind of intellect, and it was pissing you off.
He reminded you of someone.
"You're just breaking the rules." you seethed, narrowing your eyes. "How is that 'adapting'?"
In reaction to that, Reaper looked down at you. A playful taunt tugging at his expression. But paired with a calm coolness that made you feel like you were losing the conversation.
"Would I be wrong to assume that you are quite the rule-breaker yourself? Hey, Princess?" his eyebrows jumped up, furthering the taunt. "You don't exactly give off 'goodie-goodie-i-keep-flowers-on-the-kitchen-table' type of girl."
Your mind flashed back to the pair of Baretta pistols that were sitting on your kitchen table.
He went on, "No. You're not afraid to freestyle the rules. And you're in a position where you can, with some sort of leniency from the league. Being the Boss' right-arm man, I guess."
You shook your head, looking ahead of you, towards the city line not too far-away. "No. No, I respect the boss."
"No." he said firmly. "You've just been raised into associating fear with respect."
"Shut up." You replied with a harsh poison behind your words. Your tone wasn't playing around. "You don't know anything about me."
Right then, you could have sworn you heard him chuckle.
All sorts of cheap insults fly around your brain as your composure slowly slips away, due to the likes of your partner.
You just could not let it go.
As the two of you walked down the street, in a slowly-fading tantrum, you begin to melt into a silent comfort. Because, fifteen minutes later, you still hadn't spoken.
Something about the silence, accompanied with Reaper's minty aroma, was oddly refreshing to you.
New.
Maybe it was just being outside.
Walking beside Reaper had brought an ungodly amount of attention your way.
It made you wish you had just brought your bike.
Reaper was wearing his signature old leather jacket. It carried a unique scent, that you had caught whiff of multiple times, in the very short time you'd known him. He wore tight black jeans, and some sunglasses—not over his eyes—but up on his head, pulling his long hair back to frame his handsome face.
He walked with a proud stride, complimented by his blasé expression, broadcasting dominance.
While you carried a similar power down the street, it was clearly in much smaller incriminates. Different to his. The kind of secretive, silent power.
Reaper was loud in his confidence, while you were silent.
You wore jeans that were at least five sizes too large, sagging widely over your legs. A black hoodie, and a baseball cap that you had some sort of emotional connection to.
You being—short, baggy, messy—beside Reaper, who—tall, sharp, clean—was a sight worth breaking your neck for.
The most oddly notable thing about the whole experience of traveling with this new company, was the ghastly amount of women that whispered and giggled to themselves, as they passed you both on the street.
Time and time again. As if on loop.
It happened so many times that you were beginning to grow concerned that the matrix had fallen, and you really were stuck in a loop.
The girls smiled at Reaper, and glared at you.
To be honest, you didn't mind. You wished you could blend in more, or disappear completely, but Reaper seemed to draw a lot of attention. A lot more than you were used to. He probably loves it, you thought to yourself. While you simply avoided all types of public exposure.
But, as far as you could tell, he hadn't offered any of them a second glance.
"Wait here."
That caught you off guard.
Reaper suddenly turned left, veering into what seemed to be a cafe. You wondered momentarily what a cafe was still doing open so late into the afternoon, but soon turned your attention elsewhere.
You quickly assumed that he was going to buy a coffee, or two even.
Taking your last fleeting moment of serenity away from him, you hastily reached for your personal phone, as to not waste time. You checked your messages, but there were none.
You rarely got messages on your personal phone.
You didn't give the number out to anyone, even the boss. She had her very own phone to contact you on. So, it was no surprise that you hadn't received any messages on the black-cased phone.
Certainly none from the person you were ignorantly hoping had responded.
Sighing, you swipe through the other contacts.
You did happen to stumble across this one number; old conversations with a person that you used to do tattoos for. And even she hadn't responded in months.
She was the only person you had ever considered a friend.
She would once come over multiple times a week, have some beers, movies, and chat with you while you gave her some fresh ink.
Then, she would do the same for you.
Time and time again, she told you about all of her day-to-day problems. Concerns. Queries.
And, of course, you did the same. However, you obviously had lots of caution when it came to filtering out the details of your more corrupt, or villainous life.
Despite leaving out many details—and sometimes, making up stories which you thought would seem more normal—she was the only person you used to speak to outside of the league.
She was a valuable friend, back then. Times were different.
You were younger, had a lesser reputation. And you certainly weren't so high-up in the leaderboard. You didn't have to care so much, about the league.
You could actually afford to have a friend.
It was refreshing, and the highlight of your lowlife, when she came over.
But, despite the good bond you once shared, you hadn't heard from her recently.
The last message you sent was over three months ago.
Delivered.
For some reason, scanning past the old messages you used to share with her was extremely triggering.
You missed her.
"Why the frown, Princess?"
Your head snapped upwards, blinking so hard that the stray tear brewing on your waterline was forced out and onto the concrete.
Reaper stood beside you with his coffee, and a hot, caffeinated and milky drink that he insisted you try.
You didn't say anything for a few seconds, your eyes bouncing between his, and the drink in his hand—before you finally snapped the phone shut and took the drink from him.
"None of your business."
You were humiliated to admit that you cared so much about your old friend, so you had to distract yourself. Angrily, you continued walking in the direction you had originally been going, only widening the gap between you and Reaper.
You took a distressed sip from your warm drink, and you couldn't say that you didn't enjoy it.
Reaper shook his head with a chuckle, and caught up quickly with a jog.
"Just up here," he said, "On the right."
Following his instructions led you to an apartment complex that almost touched the clouds it was so tall.
You stood in shock for a moment, but Reaper's voice brought you back to reality.
"C'mon, you'll like it."
Yeah, right.
Stop being so damn cheerful.
Once he led you through the foyer, you found yourself silently amazed by the excellency of the hotel. You had seen it before, it was ranked very highly in Seoul's residency board.
You wondered how he could afford living somewhere so prestigious. But, to not boost his ego any further, you decided to keep quiet and act unimpressed.
You had lots of money too, but chose to rent a humble, beaten-down place. You always thought it would be a waste to spend your earnings on something fancy when it was always only for you anyway.
That way, the amount of money in your various safes was able to amplify incredibly fast.
Reaper led you into the elevator and forwarded in after you. Looking oddly content, he pressed the key for floor '24', which seemed horribly high.
Luckily, your lifestyle had helped you get over your fear of heights a long time ago.
You put your hands in your pockets, momentarily fumbling with the burn phone you had collected with the case files two hours ago, and stared blankly at the elevator door.
You didn't share a word in that small, enclosed space.
You had noticed yesterday that Reaper's company easily sparked a unique, novel feeling in you. A little uneasy, a little tense.
Not one you liked.
Something was different about him.
Normally, your assigned partners had no backbone. They were often dead before the mission was even over.
It was like every one of your past partners had been a side character—until this man.
You were very accustomed to your boss getting fed up with them early on, too, and deciding to end it before it even had the chance to begin.
The new recruits were always so scared of her, that it's like they're the ones manifesting their own demise.
But not Reaper.
For some reason, it didn't seem like he was going anywhere anytime soon.
"This is me," Reaper pushed the door open.
It wasn't locked?
You noticed how the lock-cover had been picked off, there was something sticking out of it; something you recognised as a lock-pick, or a lever to pry the door open.
Had he recently been robbed?
But as you observed him silently, Reaper seemed far too unbothered by the oddness to have had it been a robbery at his dismay.
Trying to ignore the weirdness you already encountered, you followed him through with a confused expression, and stepped into the apartment.
The first thing you noticed was how unorganised it all was. Sports bags filled with clothes and other randoms littered the room. The whole kitchen had been raided, as had the TV cabinet and living room drawers.
It was a mess.
"Whistler!" Reaper called out. "Daddy's home."
What?
That's an odd joke to make around someone so unfamiliar.
In just a moment, there he was. Ghosting into the space, completely silent.
A shorter boy, but taller than you—with a gorgeous face, dashingly sweet smile and toned body you could see through the white singlet he was wearing—came shuffling out from one of the rooms and right in your direction.
He wore plaid red pyjama pants that were loose enough to expose his underwear, and he had a head of bright tangerine hair; and a face so pretty it looked like he was wearing makeup.
"This must be your new partner!" He shouted with a charismatic cheerfulness. "She's exactly how you described her."
Confused, you glanced up at Reaper to see his cheeks had developed a light pink tinge. A blush of mortification, because his friend had half exposed him.
How had he described you?
"Lovely to meet you!" the boy smiled into your eyes, with his hands on your shoulders. "My name is Park Jimin."
[A/N]
park (that ass on my face) jimin
also, i promise all the chapters won't be this friggen long 😭😭 sorryyyy over 3000 words fuck