He wraps his fingers around her neck and strangles her until she cannot utter a sound. Her silence is a symphony to his ears and each struggle like a conductor leading her own orchestra. He would not stop looking at her. He did not want to miss the moment when she would take her last breath. He wanted to make her into something beautiful, and he believed that she was most beautiful the instance before death.

                “Holy , that’s ing morbid,” she comments after reading the paragraph out loud.

                “Language,” he reprimands her like a father to daughter. He then pauses and gives her a look. “Are you reading my book?” he asks her.

                She rolls her eyes. “I’ve never read any of your stories before,” she tells him.

                He walks up to her and takes the book out of her hands. Lovingly, he the cover. It is a dark piece of artwork with a single number placed in the middle. He had given the title “Seven” with purpose, as the novel follows a killer who hunted to transform his victims into physical exhibitions for the seven deadly sins. It was one of his favourite as the idea had taken him to explore the darker side of history such that he could create a unique manifestation of art.

                “You know I don’t like you reading my books,” he says to her.

                “Why not? My boyfriend is the author of these books. My boyfriend who’s got his fourth bestseller,” she teasingly waves a piece of paper in front of his face.

                “What’s that?” he reaches out and takes the paper.

                “Mr. Im Jaebum,

                                It’s your editor here! Just wanted to congratulate you on the news! Well, knowing you, you probably don’t even know what the news is so I’ll spoil it for you: Beauty and the Killer was a hit! It’s flying off the shelves and the papers are calling you the next Stephen King. Seriously, a job well done.

                                On another note, you still owe me the script for your new book. Send that over soon.

Thanks,

                                                                                                                                                                                   Park Jinyoung

                “Congratulations!” she throws her arms around him.

                He pats her back at the embrace. Krystal Jung: his childhood friend who somehow turned into his girlfriend along the way.

                She doesn’t let go of him so he stops patting her.

                No, he knows how she became his girlfriend. He had planned it. Knowing that she had always had a crush on him, he decided that having a girlfriend wasn’t all a bad thing. She was there when he needed someone to pick up his clothes from the dry cleaning; there for when he was too tired to cook; there when he needed to bring someone along with him to the expensive galas that people kept inviting him to. She was convenient to have around, plus he had always gotten along with her well enough.

                “Hey, it’s been weeks since we last saw each other. Why don’t you come to bed and I’ll help you destress?” she coyly glances up at him.

                And let’s not forget the free .

                He shook his head slowly. “Sadly, I’m not here for pleasure. I’ve got research to do for my new book, remember?” At that, he slightly pushes her away. Another time, he may have taken her offer but his hands and feet have been itching to head out since he stepped in. If she had not insisted on meeting up in San Francisco, he would have gotten a taxi straight from the train station to the building.

                “I’ll wait up for you, then! We can go for dinner,” she gives him a hopeful look.

                He has already turned his back towards her and has grabbed his traveller’s bag. Coat halfway on his body, he casts her a quick glance then says, “Don’t. I’ll be back late tonight.”

                With a final look around to room to make sure he has not forgotten anything, he gives her a pat on the shoulder before leaving.

<<  >>

                Light. As it exists, it breathes life into everything that it touches. When the sun rises, its rays reach out and give warmth to all that it touches. A ray strikes through the window and casts its light onto the eyelid of a sleeping child. It rouses and yawns, taking a new breath of life.

                He considers himself Darkness. Darkness which creeps along in the shadows, stealing the light from anything it touches. He does not equate himself to Death, however. He is only the one that decides when it is time for the child to return to sleep.

                He watches with intensity in the distance at the female who sits at the window. Her auburn hair glistens in shades of reddish-brown while the sunlight reflects off of it. Upon closer inspection, he notices that it is truly more of a chestnut when the clouds cover the sun.

                That is who he’s come to meet all the way here. That is the topic of his next novel.

                She sighs at looks up from the book she had been reading. Thriller novels were never her thing, but it had been a recommendation from a friend. So far, the book had spent a long time talking about the feelings of the murderer-to-be. At least, the person in whom she believes the murderer to be. The novel never explicitly said that it was the man who did the killing.

                Sunlight hits her eyes through the window and she casts a hand out to block it. Thankfully, a cloud floats over the sun and throws a shadow over the street. Without the light, she is able to look across the street. She notes how familiar the black car parked across the street looks.

                He brings the sunglasses higher on his nose. He has been watching her for a while now. Following her to and from work back in Los Angeles, he has committed to memory her schedule. Last week, she had started packing for a business trip and that was when he decided it was time to meet her face to face. From his spot, he observes as she brings the coffee cup up to her lips, taking another sip.

                She places the cup down after the overly sweet coffee slowly makes its way down . This was not her favourite café but it was the closest one so it would have to do. The cuckoo-bird chirps and tells her that another hour has been reached. In the distance, a car door is slammed as a man walks out.

                She checks her watch.

                Enough time has been spent watching her. If he wanted to catch her, he would need to do it now before she leaves the building. It was as if she could read his mind, as at the instance she gets up from her seat. He gathers his belongings from the passenger seat and fixes his sunglasses one more time before getting out of the car.

                He strides confidently towards the door.

                The little bell over the doorway tinkles. Her eyes light up when she sees him walk in. He is handsome and she gives him a smile. He returns it with a friendly one of his own. Seeing that he is wa