Hyunjin takes a trip away from the room, coming back with a bottle of water.
He tries to hand it to you, urging you to drink but you're reluctant, eyeing both him and the bottle suspiciously.
"For fuck's sake," he grumbles, twisting off the cap. He takes a drink to prove it's nothing but water.
After seeing him swallow, you finally accept the bottle. And while taking the most minuscule sip from it, you notice Jisung silently slip out the door. He promptly returns with a half eaten bag of chips.
Walking up next to Hyunjin's crouched figure, he carefully sets the crinkly bag by you and backs away as if you'd be upset with him for coming too close. But you peer up at the brunet, sending a subtle, grateful nod.
Jisung responds with a small nod of his own before exiting the room once again.
Water and chips were nothing substantial by any means, but it was something to satiate some of the migraine-inducing hunger.
Judging from their earlier exchange, the two of them had gone out to rummage through their respective vehicles, looking for whatever they could find for your sake.
◈ ◈ ◈
Taking a chug of water after gobbling down most of the stale, salty snack, you watch Hyunjin who's silently sat next to you on the floor ever since you started eating. He rests against the wall with eyes closed, and you wonder if he's too exhausted to even keep an eye on you. Not that you'd try to run from him again at this point.
"Hyunjin?"
He merely responds with a low hum.
"I have questions. And you owe me some answers."
"Ask away," he mumbles tiredly, eyes still shut. Sleep weighs on his hoarse voice.
"Is Hyunjin your real name?"
"...Yes."
You scan his relaxed profile, scouring it for signs—any signs that would indicate he's lying. But there are none.
Guzzling down more water, you wipe your mouth on your sleeve. "Where are we? Be specific," you demand.
"A warehouse in Busan."
Your eyes widen. B-Busan?
That's at least a four hour drive from Seoul—just how long were you initially unconscious for?
Trying not to panic from the fact that you're absolutely nowhere close to home, you push to continue talking. "What is this place?"
"A warehouse."
"You said that already. But, what is it exactly?"
"We used to operate out of this location years ago. It's abandoned now," Hyunjin mutters softly. "The actual warehouse is above us; we're in its underground bunker."
That explains the lack of windows. And no wonder it's been so chilly, you were below ground level. Would your phone even have service down here?
You frantically begin patting your coat pockets—your cell is nowhere on you.
"I want my phone."
"That's not a question."
"Fine. Can I have my phone?" you impatiently rephrase, snapping your head in his direction.
"Afraid not. I left it in Seoul."
Aggravated, you turn your entire body towards him. "Why?"
"Did you want Minho tracking you here?" Hyunjin asks dryly. "If it makes you feel better, I left mine, too."
You immediately purse your lips, unable to argue against that. Fiddling with your fingers, a different curiosity begins prodding at your thoughts. "So... why do you do this?"
"Do what?" Hyunjin releases a sharp breath while shifting onto his left shoulder, pain evident in his passing grimace.
"This." Your arms sprawl to gesture at the drab, concrete room you're in, making a point of the current situation. "Are you involved with... I don't know, like a mafia or something?"
A corner of his lips twitches upward, hinting mild amusement. "No, I'm not."
"Then, what?" you press on adamantly, trying to get more information out of him. "Do you hurt people?"
"...When it's necessary."
Your mouth tightens uncomfortably, debating if you even wanted to know the answer to the next question. But you ask anyway.
"Do you kill people?"
There's silence.
Although his face remains impassive, he takes some time before speaking again.
"Only when it's necessary," is his terse response.
Your gaze drops to the empty chip bag on your lap. A chill runs through your body, followed by a wave of nausea that has you clutching the hem of your sweater.
This only reminded you that he's lied and hid the most awful truth about himself since the very beginning.
Was this only the tip of the iceberg? What else was he capable of doing? What else has he done?
This is insane... right?
Hyunjin finally opens his eyes, sighing. He spares you a glance when you've noticeably fallen quiet.
You don't look at him.
Instead, you watch your fingers run back and forth along a pilling on your sweater to calm your nerves. "Would you kill me?" you ask steadily despite your racing heart.
He breathes in, his chest rising evenly before he audibly exhales. "No."
"How do I know that you won't?"
"Because." Hyunjin stares across the room, his jaw set tightly. "I won't."
"How can I believe you?" Dissatisfied with his short, non-elaborative answers, you find yourself boldly glaring at him. "Wasn't this all just a game to you anyway? To toy with me?"
"Believe what you'd like."
"Screw you," you spit, anger flaring up as the anxiety takes a back seat. Your own voice has taken a spiteful turn, but you couldn't care less. "If your job is to hurt and kill others, there's no sugarcoating what you are—you're a monster," you blaze on bitterly. "So admit it, someone like you wouldn't think twice about killing me if it becomes necessary."
Something callous flickers across Hyunjin's eyes as he tips his head back. "Everything I've done until now was necessary in my book," he says with a clipped tone. "Black and white—that's how I've always seen things. It's made my job bearable because there's never been a middle ground for me. And I didn't care what I had to do to get things done."
His ruthless, unapologetic words astound you, filling you with a new kind of shock that renders you speechless.
Hyunjin tilts his head in your direction. His eyes latch onto yours as he says, "I do the dirty work because the law can't go after individuals like your father without clear evidence of their felonies."
Your father.
"So, that's what this is about... you want to use me to bring him down," you whisper in bewilderment.
"Him and all the other numerous, corrupt entities out there," he adds, a slight crease forming between his brows. Hyunjin slowly lowers his head. "But I won't move forward with this, not at the expense of your well-being."
A scoff escapes you. "And why should I matter?"
"Because you're the middle ground—the gray area I've avoided for so long."
You stare in confusion.
Hyunjin throws his head back, frustrated. "Peg me as whatever horrible monster you think I am, but you're gravely mistaken if you think I'd ever hurt you—let alone, kill you."
Your chest hollows out as if it's being carved from the inside, yet it feels so incredibly heavy. The uneasiness has you ripping away from the wall and pushing off from the cold ground.
"Stop it," you blurt, lividly standing on your feet as an array of emotions surge through you. "Quit acting like you give a damn about me. It's all out in the open now, isn't it? So stop pretending to fucking care."
You bite the inside of your cheek to ward off the stupid tears, but it's not within your control.
It hurt. Everything about this just... hurt.
Hyunjin stands up when he sees you cry, trying to reach for you and it all happens so fast—your palm makes a sharp connection with his cheek.
You retract your hand, holding it by your stomach to stop it from shaking as more tears escape your eyes.
But Hyunjin is unfazed by the slap—he watches you guiltily as your breathing becomes jagged.
Trembling and hyperventilating, you feel yourself starting to spiral.
Everything jumbles together, becoming more and more muddled. Your insides were fracturing and crumbling—your chest heaving like it's about to burst.
Because you realize you don't want to hate him.
Even after all this... knowing he deceived you, knowing he's not a good person...
You still can't hate him.
And so, you sob.
Hyunjin carefully gathers your tear stained face in between his palms, whispering words of apologies under his breath. He leans in, resting his forehead against yours as if seeking respite.
"I do care," he murmurs, closing his eyes. "More than you know."
Your eyes flutter closed as his warmth leaks into you. It eases your tense body, and you don't fight it.
As the last of your tears are brushed away by Hyunjin's thumbs, your brief conversation with Jisung comes to mind when Hyunjin had left to fetch water.
(Earlier...)
"Hey, I've known Hyunjin for a long time and he's never gone this far for anyone." Jisung stands on the opposite end of the room, his arms crossed. "Cut him some slack, will you?"
You don't bother looking up at him from your balled up position, too lethargic from hunger. "He lied. I can't forgive him," is your hoarse answer.
"Yeah," Jisung agrees quietly. "He is a liar."
The brunet pushes off the wall he's leaning against when echoing footsteps in the halls get louder, indicating Hyunjin's return.
"But, he's a liar that loves you."
◈ ◈ ◈
"Lift your shirt up," you instruct.
Now sitting on the edge of the bed (after graduating from sitting on the floor earlier), Hyunjin quirks an eyebrow at you. "Ask again nicely," he deadpans. "Cause I don't strip for just anyone."
Your eyes narrow, unimpressed by the snarky humor he hasn't subjected you to in a while.
"Listen, I can see that your back has been bothering you. I'm offering to take a look at it," you say flatly, ignoring his impish grin.
"I've already looked."
You sit beside him, expecting him to say something more, but—nothing.
"Okay? Are you injured?"
He shrugs. "I wouldn't go that far."
"Well, let me see." You adamantly turn his upper body around and begin pushing his shirt up.
"—Oh," you gasp.
A sizable, dark bruise was forming all along his entire right shoulder blade and extending up towards his shoulder. The discoloration even reached his mid back, covering a wide surface of his right side.
"When did you..." you trail off, frowning as realization hits.
The alleyway.
His back had rammed into the brick wall because of you, and it never occurred until now just how hard the impact must've been to leave such a large contusion.
You imagined it throbbed every time he moved, and it probably didn't help that you tackled him to the ground earlier.
A wave of guilt ebbs through you, but you push it aside in order to think back to some of the lectures and training you've had in school.
You promptly begin palpating his shoulder blade and the surrounding areas, feeling for any swelling that might indicate a fracture.
Hyunjin stiffens at your touch. "God! What are you doing," he hisses in pain.
"Stay still," you order sternly. "There isn't any swelling... which is good," you mumble, easing back on using pressure to assess the bruised flesh.
There are a couple of faint scars on his back that your eyes wander to, old injuries you presume he sustained long ago. Your fingers lightly skim along the blemishes, wondering what horrible stories lied behind them.
"Admiring your handiwork, Miss Nurse?" he asks over his shoulder. You can practically hear his smirk.
Clearing your throat, you pull your hand away from him. "To be fair, you ambushed me. I was fighting for my life back then," you counter calmly. "And I'm no nurse, just a student."
"Alright, Miss Student Nurse," Hyunjin enunciates, "are you gonna patch me up?"
"I'll patch up that mouth of yours," you snort, tugging his shirt back down, knowing fully well a bruise of this caliber would've left you in tears.
He chuckles, and you feel the vibrations along the mattress you're both sitting on.
Unbeknownst to him, a small smile was also forming on your lips when Jisung suddenly barges back into the room with hasty footsteps.
There's a serious look upon his face as he interrupts the two of you. "Someone's here, we need to go. Now."