Word Count: 3,109

Note: After almost an eternity, I have finally updated this story! This is shorter than the last few chapters, but it's leading into a chapter that I've been itching to write for a while now. There are some minor characters appearing here and there, and they may or may not be important later. Thank you to those who are still keeping up with this story, and as always, feedback is appreciated. <3

~~

"I don't remember letting you collect and sell drugs on my turf,” Baekhyun growls at the two men standing before him, eyes dim with bloodlust and expressions nonchalant. “Are you even ing listening to me?”

“We don’t really care,” one them shrugs, and Baekhyun feels his jaw tensing. “We’re just here under orders. If you beat us up, our boss will just send more of us.”

Baekhyun thinks fights in dark alleys with faded sunlight overhead and trash rustling in a slight breeze is cliche, but there’s no other way.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” the shorter one chuckles when Baekhyun pulls on his black leather glove. “Our boss wouldn’t be happy.”

“Who the hell are you ing working for?” Baekhyun says angrily, before letting out condescending laughter. “Probably the leader of some small street gang.”

It’s the taller male’s turn to laugh, resting his head against the wall of the musty concrete building behind him. “Do you know how wrong you are?”

Baekhyun feels the anger rushing through his blood as he grabs the taller male by the collar. “You think you’re so funny? Tell me then, who you work for.”

It’s before the tall male replies that the sound of tires screeching and rapid footsteps echo in the alley. The familiar figure of a male with a sly grin and neat hair steps toward Baekhyun.

“Took you long enough,” Baekhyun growls, his fingers still tightly coiled around the tall man's collar.

“Sorry, there was traffic on the way,” Jongdae chuckles. “So, what’s going on?”

“These guys were collecting and selling drugs on our turf, and they tried to jump Chanyeol,” Baekhyun says.

“I’m surprised you haven’t taken them out already,” Jongdae says.

But the shorter male nearly shouts, “We work for Jungmin.”

Jongdae and Baekhyun both halt in disbelief. Baekhyun hates to admit it, but loathe and something that seems like apprehension swims in his dark eyes.

He grabs the shorter male by the collar and pulls the male so close that his breath fans over the man’s face and his eyes nearly bore into the man.

“Are you ing playing with me?” Baekhyun growls, not caring if he spits in the male’s face.

“Why, are you afraid?” the shorter male chuckles.

“Afraid?” Baekhyun scoffs with a bitter smile. He presses the male deeper into the wall, until the skin of the back of his head meets the hard concrete and rock throbs into his skull. “Tell your boss to stop playing around on our turf and mind his own business if he doesn't want trouble.”

Baekhyun releases the male, who gasps deeply when the tight hold on his collar is finally gone.

Baekhyun forces himself to walk away, but his fist seeks satisfaction as it twitches slightly. He whirls around on his heels and lands a sharp blow to the shorter male’s jaw, somewhat of a psychotic smirk gracing his lips as a satisfying crack resonates, followed by a low groaning.

It's in the car that Jongdae glimpses through the mirror at Baekhyun’s agitated expression, teeth clenched and hands twitching into angry fists.

“You think everything’s going to be alright?” Jongdae asks. He knows, and Baekhyun knows, that Jungmin is a crazy and cynical human- if he even is human.

“You think it's going to be alright with Jungmin involved? That ,” Baekhyun grumbles. “He's probably the one who sent the men to watch over us and take those creepy pictures.”

“What can we do?”

“Hope for the best,” Baekhyun sighs heavily.

~~

An oddly warm smile and dark yet glimmering eyes greet Hwayoung as she steps out of her class.

“What’s wrong with you?” she asks.

“Nothing,” Kyungsoo says, shrugging his shoulders. “Do I look different?”

“You're actually happy,” Hwayoung says, a slight gasp swatting her voice in disbelief.

“I have something for you,” Kyungsoo says. He grabs her by the arm, briskly whisking her away from the swarm of students surrounding the campus and to an almost empty road marked with the cool shade of trees and speckled with benches for two.

When the two are beneath a net of branches woven together over their heads, Kyungsoo explains, “I still felt like a terrible person for not doing anything for your birthday, so I decided to get you something even if it is a little late.”

“Kyungsoo, how many times have I told you, I don't need gifts from you,” Hwayoung sighs. “You're a good friend to me, and that's all I really care about.”

“If you don't accept the gift, I'm going to lock you in a room until you do,” the male says quite threateningly. With the way his eyebrows knit together and his eyes ooze venom, Hwayoung isn't quite sure whether the male is joking or not.

She hasn't noticed how the male has been holding a black box the whole time, realizing only when it's gingerly placed into her palms.

“Open it,” Kyungsoo says more in expectation than as a demand.

With careful fingers, Hwayoung pries open the lid, revealing a pair of shoes, black suede with strips of white, perfectly immaculate.

“I wanted to get you something more expensive, but I knew you'd probably get mad,” Kyungsoo says. “You've been so busy lately that you haven't even noticed your shoes are worn out.”

Hwayoung’s eyes fall to the ground where her feet stand. The rubber of the soles of her shoes has begun coming off in shreds, the once glowing white material now stained and dirtied.

“I could’ve bought myself a pair,” Hwayoung mumbles.

It's stupid, she knows. Her desire to be independent and take care of her own needs more often than not tends to leave others slowly drifting away from her solitary ways.

“No one has ever rejected a gift from me,” Kyungsoo says in a jokingly condescending manner. “Not that I give out gifts that often.”

“I'll accept it just this one time,” Hwayoung huffs with her pride keeping her reluctant to take the shoes.

“Don't think of it as a pity gift or anything,” Kyungsoo sighs. “I’m giving it to you because I want to.”

Hwayoung mumbles something that Kyungsoo doesn't quite understand.

“Now sit down,” Kyungsoo abruptly commands, gesturing to the bench beside him.

“Why?”

“I want you to try on the shoes,” Kyungsoo deadpans, as if it should be obvious. “If they don't fit, I have to go exchange them for the correct size.”

Hwayoung plops down onto a bench with the box on her lap. Her outstretched legs suddenly retract when Kyungsoo gets down on a knee dangerously close to her feet.

“What are you doing?” she asks, her palms on her knees. “I can put them on myself.”

“I know you can,” Kyungsoo says, ignoring her obvious discomfort as he grabs her ankle and brings it towards himself.

Hwayoung quickly brings her feet up onto the bench, her fingers nervously trailing along the hem of her jeans. She manages to pluck off her small, dirtied shoes before wedging her feet into the new pair. However, she yelps when Kyungsoo grabs purchase on her ankle and brings down her foot onto his lap, his wrist holding it down while his fingers move swiftly as they loop the stiff laces into a neat bow.

“I can’t believe you just did that,” Hwayoung groans, bringing her hands to cover her flushed cheeks when Kyungsoo finishes, standing up from the ground and looking down proudly at his work. “You make me feel like a child or something.”

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