---

Lightning cracked the midnight sky then the thunder rolled in. Rumbling deeply into the distance and through their bones.

 “We should get going.” Minho clears his throat, walking away without sparing her a glance. “I’ll take you home.”

Their previous conversation dissolves, swept away by the sudden gush of wind that Minho silently thanked for. Her response left him tongue-tied, a reaction that happens almost every time they’re together and it terrifies him.

The absurdity is almost laughable. How he could barely bat an eyelash when pulling the trigger but to know that someone will be there for him has him foolishly shaken.

As if sensing his distress, she quietly follows suit, keeping her eyes to the ground when Minho fastens the helmet over her head. The usually precise movements of his fingers disappears, infuriating him further as he fumbles with the clasp longer than necessary.

It didn’t take long before the storm ruptures through, the downpour of rain smacking down the stretch of roads viciously, her grip on his shoulders digging into his jacket down to his flesh as Minho speeds his way like they’re losing time.

Everything is a blur, a projection of the state of his mind and trying to stitch back the edges of himself she unraveled is a futile attempt, feeling everything slip beyond his power.

Upon reaching her apartment complex, she hops off the motorbike, drenched hair plastered to her neck when she hands the helmet back to him. Minho looks at her through the exposed panel of his helmet, unable to piece his goodbyes together while the roar of the rain seals the silence between them.  

And when she leans in close to his ears, Minho can’t help but stiffen. Her voice raised yet muted by the chaos that surrounds them.

“Stay the night!”

She’s met with the widening of his eyes as she pulls back to face him, the rain intensifying with each pulsing second.

“You’re insane if you think you can go back in this weather!” She yells.

Minho blinks a few times, circling round the fact that the weather is only an excuse for the invite. He can’t lie and say that a part of him isn’t the slightest bit tempted; he’ll stay only after the rain.

Only after the rain.

The sound of his engine dies down to a stop when he flicks and pulls the keys from the ignition, swinging his legs swiftly off the bike to confirm her of his answer.

Minho could barely remember the last time he spent the night with a woman, he would’ve if it made him feel the way she did. The vague memories of shameless walks leading up to the apartment were rushed. Impatient hands tugging and slipping underneath his shirt and his palm clasped in between the thighs of a woman, her name long forgotten in the back of his mind. They were nights where love was merely just a metaphor for lust.

“Minho, you’ve gone blue.”

Minho snaps awake from his blaring thoughts, finally realizing that he’s standing in the threshold of the small apartment with her a few steps ahead.

She offers him a faint smile before turning away, disappearing hurriedly into a room leaving him to soak in the new surrounding that he’d always wondered about.

The apartment could fit two at most but she lives alone, Minho can tell. Signs of solitary company scattered the place; take out boxes stuffed into the a bin liner hanging by a kitchen drawer or the single row of shoes just by the door or the one umbrella and empty coat rack not far behind.

Old postcards and office magnets decorated the kitchen fridge, his eyes paying interest to the to do lists scribbled amongst a few yellow post it notes. Minho had forgotten that unlike him, she lives accordingly; attends school whilst juggling a part time job to pay her bills. Nothing out of the ordinary.

“Here, put these on. The bathroom’s that way.”

Minho looks at her from over his shoulder, unsure of how long she’d been back, if she caught him admiring the warmth of her home. She’s holding out a change of clothes and a fluffy, dry towel folded neatly in her hands.

He didn’t miss how it surely didn’t belong to her, “Whose are these?”

“Someone who drops by once in a while.” She replies a little too casually and Minho curses himself when his face falls. And much to his own dismay, she is quick to catch the blatant disappointment.

“Used to. Used to drop by once in a while.” She adds quickly, pursing her lips into a line to stifle a smile.

It took him longer than he expected when he finds himself standing in her bathroom, staring blankly at the gun he had tucked behind him. His toes curl against the cold tiles as he drops his head into his hands to let out a frustrated sigh. Where the hell am I supposed to hide this?

He slips on the oversized t-shirt and sweats, freshly laundered as his nose takes in the scent of clean linen and hints of citrus. The same one that lingered faintly around her whenever they meet.

Minho slides the weapon back to its original place, pulling his shirt back and it’s morbid how having the gun on him puts him at ease. He can’t risk it more than he already has if he were to leave it unattended.

There’s a subtle clatter of things when he emerges out into the living room, finding her leaning over counters, preparing a hot drink of some sort. She too, had changed into something dry; her hair bundled over a towel on her head and shorts that revealed more skin than Minho is used to. With her, at least.

Rain tiptoed the edges of her windowsill, the distant thunder dismantling the silence that bathed the atmosphere between them. She perks at his entrance, pushing a red cup towards him filled to the brim.

The smell of milky cocoa swirls in the air, making Minho smile because he almost can’t remember what hot chocolate tasted like. Or when a girl served him one, if ever.

“Thanks.” He says quietly, savouring the warmth of the cup against his colder hands.

She nods gently, settling down onto the kitchen stool and chews her lip at a thought.

“I wasn’t going to ask, but how’d you know where I stay?”

Minho eyes her from over his cup, sugary sweetness gliding down his throat, “Same way I know where you work.”

Her gaze flicker to the speckled counter and she pulls out a smile, “You know what scares me more? How that doesn’t even bother me anymore.”

You’re safe with me. Minho pushes the thought away, knowing how it’s only a lie and nothing more.

“I would never hurt you, I hope you know that.” He says instead, almost like it’s a prayer.

“I know. Or I wouldn’t have seen the light of day after our first date.” She holds steady eye contact and Minho stares, scoffing out a smile.

He runs a hand through his damp hair, having flashbacks of a blind date he never planned on. Back then his sole intention was to round a target, killing the man on the spot with her thinking that he’d gone off to the restroom. Minho never thought that he would see her again.

“Come on, that wasn’t a date.”

“Are you going to take me on a proper one then?” She asks and Minho catches the sly glint in her eyes. He rolls his lip through his teeth, shaking his head and smiles to the cup in his hand.

Minho dodges her question with his own, one that clawed him more than he’d like to ever since she handed him the change of clothes.

“Did your boyfriend come over often?”

“Ex boyfriend.” She corrects him, straightening up and draws a collective sigh at the question he left unanswered. “And yes, he did.”

For some reason, it wasn’t a comforting thought. But then again who was he to feel entitled to have her all for himself? It dawned on him that like anyone else, she has relationships scattered in times and places he didn’t know, memories upon memories with other people that he never had.

“Why?” She asks through his silence.

“No reason.” Minho shrugs casually, peeling off eye contact as he brings the cup up to his mouth once again.

“I’m sure you’ve brought plenty of people home. You’re certainly quite the catch, Song Minho.” She quirks a brow, her tone teasing. Minho follows the way her fingers skim the edges of her cup.

“None taken.” He lets out a small laugh and she rests her chin on her palm, curious eyes scanning his face.

“Am I wrong?”

“I’ve never been in a relationship.” It rolled off his tongue like water and Minho is taken aback at how impulsive he is around her.  

He looks at her expectantly, his heart picking up its pace.

“Can I say that I’m not surprised?” She takes a sip of her drink and she throws him a gaze just as intent.  

“Why do you say that?”

She drags her answer that he already knew of, settling the cup with a clink and says, “The same reasons I always tell you.”

Something in his gut tells him to run yet something about her plants him to the ground. Perhaps it was the feelings that bloomed out of him, seeping its roots through his ribcage, up his throat and blossomed out his mouth in form of words that he had no control over.

That he had someone to look forward to for an entirely different reason. Never in his life he had encountered the greatest need to keep someone alive.

“You make me want to change that.” He confesses. 

---

“There’s a girl, isn’t there?” Seunghoon asks curiously, prying Minho out of the corner of his eye.

Minho looks away, scrolling through a webpage on the computer with sudden feigned interest, “What are you on about?”

As convincing as Minho tried to make himself be, out of anyone else he should have known that no one could fool Seunghoon who probably had already suspected some sort of funny business going on behind his back.

“Come on, when was the last time you took up an offer?” The lack of surprise in Seunghoon’s voice tells Minho that Seunghoon knew.

Truthfully, Minho saw the confrontation coming.

“You don’t even remember do you?” Seunghoon adds and Minho sighs deeply, dropping to rest his forehead on his palm.

“They know how much I want. They’re not giving me what I want.” Minho mutters as he leans back onto his chair.

“Bull.” Seunghoon scoffs a light laugh, “You scraped off a half million the other day. You’re forgetting I hack for you, Song.”

Surprised, Minho rolls his head to the side and looks at Seunghoon properly this time, catching the twinge of concern weaving through Seunghoon’s sharp features. Of course, he’d find out eventually. Seunghoon is his second pair of eyes after all.

Minho did in fact discard an offer rather thoughtlessly a few days back. It was for a high-profile target, risky, but then again there’s a reason why people desperately sought after him for the dirty work.

It’s odd how little it affected him. Half a million don’t just come every other day and the only regret that chews him the slightest bit is how he’d costed a good chunk of Seunghoon’s share if he were to accept it.

“It’s nothing for you to worry about.” Minho replies lowly, turning around to busy himself back to the incoherent screen.

“Just be careful, alright? You know he’s still out there looking for you.”

Minho flips his gaze down to the soft metal of the table, feeling a sick drop in his stomach.

His jaw clicks at the bitter taste of the memory, “Kim Jinwoo? That fawn looking bastard?”

Seunghoon breathes out a dry chuckle of acknowledgement, “He may be pretty but you know the in’ crazy he’s capable of.”

“Nothing I haven’t done before.” Minho grunts, biting back a slow smirk on his face.

“You’re forgetting the people that work for him, Minho.” Seunghoon warns firmly as Minho turns back to face him.

“Well aren’t I lucky to have you, hyung.”

Seunghoon stares at the hired killer with nothing but pity and it makes Minho wonder if he could ever do the same.

“I’m just someone that reminds you to take out the damn trash and hack through security systems while you take out a son of a .” Seunghoon continues almost too proudly, quirking a brow at Minho.

Similarly, Seunghoon excels in his field; a computing genius that could easily put his forte to good use but had tarnished his civil track record beyond fix. He had better chances of rotting in a cell somewhere than adhere to the norm.

“The only thing you have against him is the fact that you got no family, no loved ones he could come after just to rile you up.”  It’s a subtle warning from Seunghoon to not be so reckless. Reminding him the price to pay for taking the chance to have any means of a normal life. Seunghoon is the closest thing he has to a family, whatever that may be.

“So, when do I get to meet her?”

---

Seunghoon was right, Minho needed to stay low if he wanted to stay out of Kim Jinwoo’s radar.  Yet whatever it was that sparked between the two of them, it quickly developed into something more. And for that alone, Minho was well aware of the consequences strapped to it and it might have been an excuse, but he needed to be around her just to play it safe. Or rather, to be around her just because he wanted to.

The day she handed him the spare keys to her apartment Minho was close to sputtering out how it wasn’t necessary, that he could pull a string or two to gain access into the place with his eyes closed. But out of the decent courtesy he rarely follows, Minho slipped the keys in his pockets and pulled her in for a hug.

That wasn’t the first time. It took countless more of the ones she had always initiated for him to be remotely fine with embracing another person with a whole other meaning. The first time, it came to her so easily, sliding her arms from underneath his and across his tense back, her head pressed gently on his chest. Minho could still smell the strawberries in her hair.

Despite knowing that he could drop by whenever he pleases, Minho came to notice the look of utter horror whenever she comes home, greeted with his presence already in her living room. She’d recoil back when the realization hits, a strained smile across her face as she greets him a shaky hello. All the while making him wonder what it was that caught her terribly off guard.

It was no different today.

‘’Oh thank god, it’s you.’’ She let out a gasp of relief, staring wide eyed at Minho who bolted up in his seat at her entrance.

‘’Were you expecting anyone else?’’ Minho asks warily, his eyes following her wandering movements into the kitchen.

“No. I wasn’t.’’ She says quickly as if she’d been caught.

His brows twitch to a slight frown, maybe it’s his high wired instinct to suspect every little thing but Minho dismisses this one like a breeze. He figured that she must have had a long day.

“I should’ve called you, I’m sorry.’’ Minho says quietly, resting his chin on the head of the sofa while he observes her at a distance.

Her shoulders drop when she sighs, looking over to him with a small smile, ‘’No, no, it’s fine, Minho. It’s nothing really.’’

‘’You look like you just seen a ghost, you sure you’re okay?’’

She stops midway of settling her things onto the counter, face falling to serious and for a second Minho anticipated an explanation but then she chuckles and everything blurs, “Well you are pretty intimidating, so pardon me.’’

‘’Really? Do I scare you? I thought we’re past that stage.’’ He straightens up and it seems like he’s the only one concerned when she breaks out into a lighthearted smile that reached her eyes.

‘’Can you really blame me, though? If looks could kill, I would’ve been dead a long time ago.’’ She asks playfully, tilting her head in question.

Minho notes the blush creeping on her cheeks and he can’t help but laugh, ‘’That’s not what I meant.’’

His worries dissipate into thin air when she trails over to him and murmurs, ‘’You’re welcome.’’

She slips to the empty space next to him, their shoulders touching. Like everything else, Minho is still learning to be as comfortable as she seems to be around him.

‘’You need to tell me if it bothers you, the things I do.’’ Minho says after a while, tipping his chin to the side as he chanced a look at her. She’s got her eyes closed in content, his words tugging the corner of her lips to a smile.  

‘’Has that ever stopped you before?’’ She asks, mischief glimmering in her voice.

Amused, he rolls his tongue in his cheeks, ‘’What am I going to do with you and your smart mouth?’’

She peeks at him through one eye, “Oh I don’t know… I’ve got a few ideas.’’

Minho blinks, utterly taken by her velvet tone. He’d been meaning to bring it up for a while, but never found the right moment until now.

‘’Come over.’’

Her eyes fluttered open, staring right back at him and his pulse hitched.

‘’Hm?’’ She frowns, like she didn’t catch what he just suggested.

It had been a while since she casually slipped it in between their conversation, how it was only natural for her to ask, if she could drop by the way he does.

At the time, Minho wasn’t sure if she was prepared for what he has in store. He still isn’t.

She’d taken him by a storm and being with her was nowhere near right. Yet here he is and there is nowhere else he’d rather be.

‘’To my place, let’s go to my place.’’ He repeats once more.

Bewilderment casts her face and she smiles, ‘’To what do I owe the pleasure, Mr. Song?’’

---