-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
Monday

It began just like any other day for Lee Taemin. He was sitting at his desk, papers and pencils strewn around. He could hear the click click click of the keyboards all around him in the white office room. As he glanced over the top of his grey 'wall' – supported only by a tiny bracket and only reaching up to his torso in height – he noticed that everything was identical. What lay before him was just a mass of grey and white. There was the odd piece of black from the newer computers that were permeating through the whitewash, but still, black couldn't really be defined as a colour. Taemin felt gloomy, tired and … dry. His stiff, pressed, white collar shirt was far too hot for the humid air in the office; thanks to the old and beaten up air conditioning not working properly. He could barely decipher the dull drone of chatter as people mumbled on their phones or to their colleagues; he couldn't care less. He hated his job and he hated his life but there was something, something deep down that kept pushing him to wake up every morning and come to work.

He could quit this job, but with his experience and qualifications he would only really end up in another equally depressing place, doing the same mundane job but with all the pressures of being the 'new guy' and people wanting to make awkward conversation with him to size him up.

At least here, as the sweat started to soak through the back of his shirt and the sun shone straight through the small window and into his eyes, at least here, he was left alone and nobody bothered him.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Tuesday

Taemin missed colours, he missed how they shone brightly and added a kind of light to the world. He missed how the colour yellow would make a person smile. How the colour green would make somebody hungry and most of all, he missed the colour red.

But we mustn't talk about that, don't even think about that colour because no matter how hard you searched for it, it would never be seen. No, the colour red was hung in dark places, where secrets are whispered and where 'they' dwell.

Taemin was different though, he would dream of red. Red clothes, hair, paint, blood … them... all of it. His mind created those vivid pictures in his head every night, the stain of red bleeding behind his eyelids until he opened them to find the sun shining directly onto his once closed lids.

And still, it wasn't enough for Taemin … he needed more colour. More of something.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
Wednesday

Tick tock tick tock tick tock – the clock sounded on and on. The room was deathly silent. A stark contrast to the constant whirring and chatter that the office day brought. No, now he was the last one there. Working on a report that shouldn't really be taking him this long but he couldn't seem to focus today. Every time he began to type, he would see flashes of red hair and pale skin.

His dreams had developed, or more so, narrowed. Now, they consisted only of one sole person. A boy? A man? Taemin wasn't sure but he knew that the person had sinfully red and plump lips. They whispered bad things into his ear and caused a shiver to wrack through his body. The boys hair smelt like lavender and Taemin hated that smell normally, but on this boy – man... it was the most intoxicating scent he had ever smelt.

He snapped out of his thoughts and sighed once again. He closed the manilla folders on his desk and placed them in the rusty filing cabinet in the corner of the room. The screech of the rusty runners echoed and reverberated throughout the empty office but Taemin didn't even notice it; too caught up in his own mind once again.

He moved back to his desk, hit ctrl+s with a finality and shut down the computer. He took his black raincoat and umbrella on his way out before turning to lock the door of the building.

---

As he walked along the grey pavement, watching his black dress shoes squelch slightly in the rain he realised that even the streets were just as bland as his life. It wasn't until he heard a loud screech of tyres and an almighty bang, that Taemin was pulled away from his thoughts. He turned his head to look down the alley on his left, only to see something very very odd.

He saw a brief flash of red and the scared eyes of the van driver before a pale and muscular arm wrapped around the man's neck and within a second, Taemin saw what he had been dreaming of. He saw a flash of red hair; piercing black eyes, only this time – unlike in his dreams – those red, inviting, plump lips were parted to reveal teeth so white that they looked almost angelic. That was, until they visibly sharpened and sunk into the neck of the large van driver. Taemin was frozen in his spot but the red headed person....creature... had Taemin's eyes locked with it's own. Taemin's eyes finally broke the trance and moved again to see the red liquid dripping from the driver's neck. Next all he could see was a flash of a smirk; a of blood red lips, and then they were gone. No van driver, no red headed creature... just the van and the deathly silent alleyway.

'Home...' was the only thought that came to Taemin's mind as he continued forward to his apartment just a few blocks away. The rain was still pounding heavily and making a pitter-patter noise as it hit the puddles. Taemin walked on like nothing had happened and when he finally reached his home, he took down his generic, black umbrella and greeted the security guard in his building before taking the elevator up to the 13th floor.
-----
Lee Taemin dreamed that night, but it wasn't just flashes of hair and whispering words, no. This time he dreamed of 'them.' He dreamed of sharp teeth and blood but more than anything, he dreamed of those pitch black eyes and the blood red smirk that lined the creatures face.

He had the best night's sleep in a long time.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Thursday

Isn't it strange how you can 'meet' somebody in a dream, you never see their face in its entirety and yet you just know them. You know them inside and out, you know what they like, what they think...all of it. Yet, when somebody asks you 'what did they look like?' All you can do is shrug because you can only remember some distinct features. 

Plump, red lips. Pale, porcelain skin. Bright, sharp, white teeth. Dark piercing eyes that make you want to drown. 

Despite knowing these characteristics, you always answer with 'I don't know' because if you tell them about the beauty that is this creature, it's like you are opening up your insides for the world to see.
No!
This boy, man, creature came to you. Came into your dreams and you aren't going to share.

So that is why Lee Taemin finds himself shrugging whenever he talks with his old friend Kibum. Because it's a secret that he wants to keep, he doesn't want to share the beauty that is this creature.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Friday

Taemin is clicking and clacking away on his keyboard, unusually focused on the task at hand. He is humming a quiet but haunting tune; something he's never heard before and yet it seems completely familiar. He woke up this morning in a good mood. He doesn't know why, but he just did – and he wasn't going to question it.

As the alarm on his phone rings, it signals lunch time; he is in need of a break. Lifting his head, he is bewitched to see a young boy, maybe 19 or 20 years old. The boy has striking red hair but Taemin can't see his face. He belatedly notices the delivery uniform as he watches curiously; the younger is holding a white envelope in his hands and asking the reception desk something quietly.

That's when said male turns around and Taemin's jaw almost drops to the ground like a loony tunes cartoon.

The boy has black eyes, soulless and 'deep so deep' Taemin thinks. He takes in the tousled red hair, long pale neck, plump and luscious red lips that he wants to bite and .

“Lee Taemin?” he hears his name and sees the younger boy's mouth move. His eyes drift to the younger male's toned arms and strong shoulders before settling again on those sinful lips.

“Uh, are you Lee Taemin?” Taemin watches those lips move again before it finally registers through his brain and he moves his gaze back to those black eyes.

“Oh, uh, yeah?” he finally answers, kicking himself for making it sound like a question; almost as if he has forgotten his own name.

“Here.” The younger replies and Taemin wonders if he is dreaming because he feels like he knows this person. The delivery boy's hand is outstretched and showing him the white envelope.

By now, the entire office has gone silent. The boy with red hair had attracted everybody's attention because it's red and his eyes are so empty that you can see people in the room visibly sweating and flinching. Staring but trying to act like they aren't.

“Ummm...I....thanks.” Taemin answers lamely and accepts the envelope.

“My pleasure.” The boy answers but this time his voice is low and alluring, and then, when his pretty mouth morphs into such a sinful smirk that Taemin is all too familiar with; it finally hits him like a gust of wind.
This boy, is the same one from his dreams. The same one from the alleyway who took that van driver's life. Here. In the flesh.
Taemin feels a shiver course down his spine as he watches the younger boy disappear through the swinging office doors.

Needless to say, for the remainder of the day, none of his colleagues even approached him and they kept