The front clock’s automated buzzer beeps 3 times, and that’s when Doyoung knows it’s time to close up. Thank God.

    Running an understaffed convenience store was hard enough to handle on its own, and being the only one to man the late night-shift was another; juggling both of those things all while it nearing Halloween was a whole new ballpark in itself.

    The ty black, orange and purple streamers haphazardly strewn about the shelves, (That Doyoung had to inevitably sweep up at the end of the day anyhow,) the mandatory costume-uniform he had to wear at all shifts- The rabbit headband was not funny, for the last damn time- and the annoying kids who came into the store asking for a trick or some treats almost comically early, all made the brunette conclude that his employer indeed ; and that once he became rich and famous, he would buy out all the convenience stores in the city and put that jerk out of his job and misery for good.

    Now, however, Doyoung’s first order of business was to straighten out the register, sign out, and close up.

    After smacking a few buttons and locking up the cash register with a key from his inner apron pocket, Doyoung heads to the sliding glass doors at the other side of the store. About to lock up for the night (or early morning), he sees a figure grow from the black in the distance, and if he were as dumb as his scaredy-cat friend and morning-shift holder Taeyong was, he would’ve thought it was some spooky ghost. Instead, he pretty much instantly concludes that the person (?) was a civilian who forgot to pick up something last minute, whether it be booze or a pack of tampons, and was making a mad dash to get to the nearest Family Mart before sunup.

Doyoung felt no pity for the other, however; because he honestly just couldn’t relate. Get your done at an orderly time, for heaven’s sake. Another hinderance to him getting some well-deserved shut-eye, whether it be a good reason or not, was just something he wasn’t going to let pass.  He assumes the person would just turn around and leave once they saw that the open/closed sign was flipped to the latter, but as the figure- now identifiable as a young male, just kept on running and running, Doyoung feels his eyes widen at the sheer force of impact the other came upon when he crashed into the pristine sliding doors of the facility. The bump was loud enough to make him wince, and seeing the other man fall to his bum upon recoil, Doyoung felt human kindness take over as he unlocked the doors once again to see if the other was okay.

    The light outside was tinted a warm yellow due to the dusk of night taking over, and from what Doyoung could see from his eyes squinched, he could tell the man was about his age; if not give or take a year or two.  The brightness outlined his head just enough to distinguish the bare minimum of features on his face; while the dark managed to make an average-built guy amount to something much more creepier. He was hunched over, palms supporting his back, while breathing heavily. His clothes were tattered and dirty, and the thought that this boy might’ve been homeless or a runaway passed Doyoung’s mind for a second. Disregarding any of his assumptions, Doyoung helps the boy, who was still breathing rigidly, up. Waiting for any word out of the man, he is met with only silence. His breath never stops picking up, and he’s taking big gulps of air with every gasp or so. Doyoung brings the other in with concern, turning the lights up higher so he could assess the other’s condition with more ease.

    Without waiting for another response, Doyoung speaks up.

    “Er, hey…” Doyoung brings the boy to the counter.

    No answer.

    “Are you alright…?”

    The boy starts to even out his breathing, and Doyoung begins to feel at ease. He wants to start off some small conversation with the young man before sending him off on his way with whatever he needed, but he’s caught shell-shocked well before he can do any of that.

    The dark-haired boy pulls his head up. His breathing is still a little bit shaky; his clothes naturally as raggedy as they were outside, but Doyoung now sees his complexion without any interference. He was pale. Not “light”, or “fair-skinned”. He was sickly pale.  Paper-white. His eyes were bloodshot, and there were dark rings encompassing his eyelids. His dark pupils flickered about, dilated, and his irises held no hint of color whatsoever; almost as white as his skin. Were those colored lenses? Doyoung hoped so. His veins showed, the natural reddish-hue of his skin was instead a blue-ish purple, and his lips were the darkest shade of mauve Doyoung had ever believed a human could achieve naturally. And that wasn’t even the creme of the crop. Worst of all, there was a gaping, dark red bullet hole piercing straight through his forehead, cracked blood drying around its edges, and the man acted as if it were no big deal. He seemed more shaken over the fact that the press against the glass may’ve smacked his nose slightly and stung, rather than the large shotgun wound that brandished his face. Doyoung almost wanted to vomit. Blood and injury made him nauseous, which was another factor that added into his hatred for the Halloween-season night shifts and all the kids who paraded around as bloody murderer butcher clowns, but nothing at all could compare to the state that the other was in. An otherwise roguish and potentially handsome face was covered with… that, and for a second it almost deters Doyoung from doing his job. Any reluctance stopped him from hopping into his car and heading straight home immediately, and away from this pure nightmare-fuel, however, so he decided to it up so the two could leave this wretched place before Doyoung could projectile-vomit all over the both of them.

    Doyoung clears his throat, as the stranger continues to take in his surroundings and current state of being.

    “Are you okay, really?”

    The other’s gaze snaps straight back onto Doyoung’s, and he smacks his mouth open and shut as if he were trying to muster up the will to speak. A deep hum comes from somewhere within his throat, and it’s almost as if he’s incapable of forming the right answer to Doyoung’s question. He looks like a fish out of water.

    Doyoung’s worried. The other’s wounds were clearly costume makeup. They had to be. Dear God, let it be makeup. But perhaps the other ran into the doors so hard he suffered some type of minor brain damage.

    Doyoung slowly, as calm as he can, tries to the other’s arm in an attempt to make him settle down, but all the other does is gaze rigidly at Doyoung’s hand.

    At the lack of an answer, Doyoung presses on.

    “Okay. Here’s an easier question,” Doyoung speaks gingerly. “How can I help you?”

    Doyoung pulls away, and the poor guy is doing all he can to spit out something. He’s swallowing his own spit, mumbling incoherent vowels, and freezing on top of himself. Finally, he manages to stutter something akin to normal speech.

    “Hhh-e-h --e----a----… --elp….me--- help...me...” The boy swallows, and Doyoung’s very thoroughly freaked out. The boy’s gaze doesn’t falter, and the fluorescent lights of the store make his greasy and matted-down hair look almost metallic. His expression doesn’t change at all, and Doyoung’s fairly certain he can’t be as hurt as he sounds, especially if he doesn’t look it whatsoever. He doesn’t seem like he needs any physical attention (save for the bullet wound, but that was different because makeup and all that), instead he just looks like someone popped a ballon really close to his head. Terrified.

    Doyoung grows pissed within seconds. He wasn’t an idiot. It was one thing to have seriously hyper-realistic injuries all over, and for a while there he almost felt bad for closing the door in the possibly-hurting boy’s face. Now he knows that the boy was probably just ing around as a halloween prank. That explained the get-up, and the daring move he previously just did. He probably had friends outside, stupidly filming out Doyoung’s frightened reactions as they speaked. Why else would this guy be acting like this? To be a waste of time, that’s certain.

    Reasonably less concerned, Doyoung backs away from the counter, and trudges into the pharmaceutical section of the store. Picking up a package of aspirin, he returns to see the boy standing there, eyes wide, like a terrified puppy.

    “Headaches or other bodily pain, I’m guessing?” Doyoung sighs. “Here.”

Doyoung motions to give the pack to the boy, and he grows more impatient when the other doesn’t take it. He doesn’t even pull out his hand, and he’s looking at Doyoung slightly scared, as if he had a right to be more terrified in this situation at all rather than Doyoung. Doyoung irritatedly grabs the young man’s wrist, and smacks the small box of tablets onto his palm. The other guy’s fingers slowly curl around the box, at the pace of a snail.

“I---I…” The boy gulps. “No.”

Doyoung’s eyes narrow.

“No? Dude.”

“Can’t-- won’t-- --elp…” The other mutters, this time slightly more coherently. “No m---money…. anyways…” His voice was nice, and would’ve probably been soothing to listen to if he didn’t speak as choppily as he did.

Doyoung practically smacks a palm over his forehead. Why was he always stuck with the weirdos and hassles at night? He wanted to go home. The one time he shows pity and compassion for someone, he gets this bullcrap in return.

“Ugh- listen, whatever. I’ve said it already. It’ll help any headaches or body pains you could possibly have. I’ll even be nice enough to pay for you and let you off this time, it’s just a ing box of aspirins, not contraband. I was supposed to clock out 30 minutes ago.” Doyoung spits, and the young man’s intimidated enough to pull the box bitterly into his frayed flannel’s pocket. He doesn’t move from his stance, however, and Doyoung’s about to make the man leave by force. Instead, he sighs once again.

“What? Leave.”

“I said--- won’t--- h---help.”

“Speak clearly, for Christs’ sake. And what?”

“I’m-” The boy takes a while to regain his words, again. “-- rying. T-rying. Won’t ...help. The...aspirin...”

“Stop bullting me, what’s so bad that aspirin couldn’t fix? Come on man, the city’s dangerous this late. I have to go.”

Doyoung crosses his arms, and the man shakily raises his arm to his head. He’s pointing at his forehead.

“I said it works on headaches, dingbat. Go back to wherever you came from.”

The man indignantly shakes his head- or at least tries to- and slowly pulls at Doyoung’s wrist. He draws Doyoung’s arm closer to his face, and the other wants to rudely snap back a little bit, but instead he stays reserved to see what the strange man was trying to convey. He also doesn’t help but notice how cold and brittle the other’s huge hands were.

Doyoung’s fingers meets the boy’s forehead, and he’s surprised to see that his index finger went sticky immediately. Why? Because it met in direct contact with the other’s fake bullet hole. His face almost turns sheet-white to match the stranger’s complexion. Why? Because his finger doesn’t stop soon after as a fake wound would. It keeps going. And it digs in slightly. And it’s mushy. And Doyoung almost wants to pass out and barf simultaneously, but instead he simply whips his hand back and draws as far away from the man as possible.

“Wh- what-”

“Help.”

“Ooooh my God,”

“Please.”

“HOW!?” Doyoung trips his way behind the counter, and pulls out the dial up phone from underneath. “Oh my stars, ohhh- I need to call the police immediately. And the paramedics. Holy shi-”

The boy makes an irritated grunt and grabs Doyoung’s arm with actual effort before he can press the last ‘1’ to 911.

Doyoung freezes, as the dark-haired stranger collects his breath.

“D---on’t…”

Doyoung slowly lowers the phone back onto its rack.

“Please….”

Clack.

“You--- help----” The boy grunts as he pulls Doyoung, disregarding the counter separating the two. He pulls and pulls, and every time Doyoung’s waist thumps against the hard edge of the table.

“Ow! Hey! ALRIGHT!-” Doyoung, whipping his arm away, steps around the counter like any person with common sense, and lets the stranger lead the way.

Limping through the rows of shelves, Doyoung is left to guess at what the other was searching for. They passed the food, and most of the pharmaceuticals, and were nearing the wacky halloween dollar-section.

Doyoung’s almost about to throw the guy out at this point; until they stop right at the end of pharmaceuticals to pick up a package of long bandages, cotton swabs, and a bottle of hydrogen peroxide.

Shoving all these things into Doyoung’s arms, the boy looks at him expectantly.

“Rhh.”

Here.

Doyoung sighs, and takes the supplies readily as they head back to the counter.

Minutes later, and the mysterious boy was humming thankfully at Doyoung’s handiwork; his wound was disinfected and covered, and he seemed content.

Doyoung’s eyes are still furrowed at the man’s odd mannerisms, but seeing as his job was done and the guy was on his way out, he doesn’t ask for even a name. Ignorance was bliss, as they said.

As the man trudged off into the pitch black darkness, he turned and waves back at Doyoung from afar. Doyoung waves back weakly, and leans against the door with a sigh.

He calls out before he can see the figure fade away completely.

“You’re gonna need stitches for that sooner or later!”

He sees a faint and weak smile, and then all is gone.

Well that was over with. Thank God.

Except it wasn’t. Because after a restless morning of Doyoung pondering about what the hell happened last night, he was all but too surprised to see the same visitor pop in that night too. As well as the next. And the next. And then next.

For a whole, entire week, the stranger comes in at around the same time to visit.

Doyoung learns that the bizarre stranger’s name is Jaehyun, and that he likes to make duck beaks out of potato chips (that Doyoung pays for, even though Jaehyun never seems to actually eat any of them,) and that he inconsequentially seems to have enough time in the world to come by every night to sit on the floor and around with whatever knick-knacks Doyoung has to offer without a trouble in the world. Learning his name was probably one of the more harder things to do, but after a while, Doyoung realized that despite having the motor skills of a toddler, Jaehyun was a lot more better at writing that he was at speaking.

“Say, what’s your name?”

“J----a----h----Ja---y---”

“Jay?”

‘Jay’ urps, and Doyoung lazily flips through a magazine as he waits for his response. Once it grew into the earlier hours of the morning, business really slowed down, and as relaxing as it was; it was better to have someone around to ease the boredom. Doyoung limited the things Jaehyun could mess around with to the discount and dollar section, so he could cover all of Jaehyun’s expenses. Which were quite minimal, on the positive side of things. Jaehyun mostly only amused himself on the floor with whatever Doyoung had to offer, be it magazines or the backside of Frito Lay packages, and whenever a customer would roll in he would stand up and move to the side at his own pace; sure not to disturb the other’s shopping experience. Some customers even mistook Jaehyun for a costumed employee, and would comment kindly on his appearance as they passed by.

Jaehyun would smile shyly and grunt a low “T-thanks.”

Jaehyun’s eyes are bent in frustration, and Doyoung caught after a while that the other seemed to have a lot to say; he just didn’t know how to say it. The patch on his forehead that covered his gaping wound would pull and wrinkle every time he found himself in deep cognition, and Doyoung would’ve been lying if he said he had curious bouts about what the other was thinking too.

Jaehyun shuffles over, pulls a miscellaneous pen out from the cup on the counter, and pulls gently at Doyoung’s magazine. Compliantly, Doyoung lets go and watches the magazine float onto the counter. He hunches over and scrawls something slowly. Doyoung wants to push Jaehyun’s head away so he could see what the other was writing, but he doesn’t want to risk touching the other’s greasy hair. He waits patiently, and Jaehyun turns the paper to face Doyoung.

I    am Jaehyun I am    19  yea rs old Thanks      for   helping     me.

Doyoung’s eyes widen, and he’s impressed. Surely, with anyone else, writing a simple sentence or two wasn’t anything to even scoff about, but for someone like Jaehyun who had trouble even walking properly without bumping into anything nearby, he had to admit; he was surprised.

Doyoung asks a question he was meaning to ask for a while.

...Actually, make that a few.

“Are you sick? Why did you come here last time? Also cool, you’re 19. I’m 20.”

Jaehyun smiles that weak smile he always does- it’s lopsided and open, almost like a smirk, but more friendly, and Doyoung can see his gums shine a blackish tint- and begins to scribble once again over the coupons and advertisements listed on the paper. Doyoung expects him to have a pretty elaborate response by how much he was writing, but he got pretty much the same length as before.

I’m dead.

  I died      4      years ago.     I   got    shot   yeastyesterday     by     a     police    man    and I     panicked

    Doyoung feels a mixture of feelings. He’s smiling, because this banter with a once-thought to be almost-mute man was interesting, but at the same time, he was getting weird waves of discomfort, nausea, and disbelief again.

    Doyoung lets out an exasperated breath.

    “C’mon man, what’re you tryna say? Like, you’re from The Walking Dead, or something?  Look, your getup is cool and all, but you and I both know that…”

    Doyoung begins to trail off as Jaehyun delicately begins to clasp his own head; one hand on the top, one by the chin. Doyoung’s face scrunches up in confusion, and the waves hit him hard when Jaehyun does a firm twist, and several snaps resound from inside the store.

    “D-did you just…”

Jaehyun grunts, proud.

“URP-”

    The guy freaking snapped his own neck, and was still standing.

    He snapped his ing neck.

    And then he snapped it right back into ing place again like it was nothing.

    Needless to say, Doyoung didn’t really doubt what Jaehyun said anymore after that. He simply asked questions, and learned.

    Surprisingly, underneath all that grunting and lack of air circulation, Jaehyun had what could possibly (?) be considered a sense of humor. After seeing the grotesque scene unfold in front of him, Doyoung was clearly nauseated, and noticing this happening, Jaehyun slid the trash bin from across the floor all the way to Doyoung’s shin, without much of a word. Perhaps he doesn’t even know he’s doing it. He’s just naturally offbeat, and with that came humor. Tripping and bumbling into the freezer (and emerging nonchalantly, as if nothing ever happened), smiling at all the kids who came in dressed up “like him” (undead, in shambles, covered in scars); for a moment Doyoung almost forgets that key point. Jaehyun was undead. A zombie. Why hadn’t he bashed Doyoung’s head in and feasted on his brains yet? From all the nights Doyoung had to observe the one-of-a-kind creature that was known as Jay, never once had the other ever even bother to interfere with the lives of any of those who had one; and for a matter of fact, he really didn’t seem to need to eat anything to sustain himself at all. Numerous times Doyoung had given him opportunities to snack on the various assortment of chips they had for sale, but Jaehyun preferred to just read the back of the bag before popping the air out and giving them back to the brunette. Jaehyun never even dared to touch Doyoung, save for that one time on the first encounter between the two, and Doyoung doubted he would ever do so again without rhyme or reason.

    Jaehyun spent most of his entire time writing, and every now and then would limp up to Doyoung and pass him his literary masterpieces. He’d been speaking less and less since his introduction to paper and pens, but every now and then he would grunt or murmur a “Yeah” when it seemed more necessary.

    All th e se kids who look like me , they make me feel old.

    I b   u mped my head     on   the    way    here    so      if    theres    suspicious   blackish   red   fluids   on the   ground   its proba d bly   me sorry

    Do you    ever wonder why   potato chip    bags   have    so much    not-potato    in them?

. .. . Im    so    glad  i      dont    have a      digestive  tract   any  more

    Your   costume    is funny. Do you   wear that   all the time?

    No…. keep it     on …. I    like    it.

    My   eyes    are    starting    to   adjust    to the   light.

    I walk here every morning and wait for you   until  night.    Nevermind sorry .   does that sound weird?     It   s ounds    weird.    S    hit.

    I    wish    i    could      go     out         all   the   time like      you    can.

    Doyoung frowns at the last slip of conscience Jaehyun passes to him. The store would be closing extremely early since Doyoung had to meet up with his little cousin and his friends to go trick-or-treating, and he already felt bad that he had to kick out the younger zombie prematurely. Seeing Jaehyun do some sort of frown-slash-pout at the news made it even worse.

    “Sorry, bub. I’m going out today, so I have to close up soon. I know you walked all the way here from whereever-you-come-from to hang out, but for now you’re gonna have to go back.”

    Jaehyun makes a disappointed grunt.

    “Look, it’s only for today. Besides, why can’t you go out all the time on your own? I’m not stopping you.”

    Jaehyun looks at Doyoung with lidded eyes, white irises piercing at him as if he were dumb.

    “Rrrgh.”

    Jaehyun gestures at himself.

    Oh. Right.

    “I mean, you fit right in with everyone else during this time of the year!”

    “Y-yea-----h, but--- not--- normally-” Jaehyun attempts to be sarcastic. “When-- people-- see me-- they always ask,” a gulp, “what’s wrong-- and if --- i answer the wrong-thing-- they shoot me.”

    “That was one time.”

    Doyoung frowns, but his eyes light up as an idea comes through into his head.

    “Hey, why don’t you come with me? I know that doesn’t really solve your problem at all, but if you’re staying cooped up in here during the month when you can go outside, that’s not really helping matters at all, now is it?”

    Jaehyun shakes his head, and a small grin grows as he does.

    “Wanna come?”

    Jaehyun nods, and giddily trudges along with Doyoung into the neighborhoods.

    A few people give them looks, positive ones for once, and Jaehyun smiles cheekily whenever people compliment his costume. Seeing as how authentic he looked- without overdoing it like some of the other ‘zombie’s they’ve seen on the block did- Jaehyun seemed like a favorite amongst the community. No one really spoke about Doyoung’s costume, as people who had come to the store anytime during the month had already seen him dressed up, but he’s not annoyed in the slightest bit because he’s happy to see people complimenting Jaehyun.

    Oh, and when the boys meet Jaehyun, they all go wild. Doyoung’s happy to see that they love him, albeit a little bit jealous as to how they all treat Jaehyun more nicely than they do with him, but he’s happy all the same.

    “Gee, hyung. You didn’t tell us you had friends.” Donghyuk bolstered obnoxiously, as he and his group of friends inspected Jaehyun, who felt uncomfortable under their scrutiny. After a while, the kids all seemed to accept him into their pack, as he was the more ‘cooler’ amongst the two hyungs.

They cling onto him, and Doyoung has to constantly remind them that Jaehyun is sickly and shouldn’t be dragged around like a sack of potatoes. They don’t listen, but Jaehyun doesn’t seem to mind. (Whenever his arm pops apart, he secretly pops in back into place when no one except Doyoung’s really looking.)

    The night goes on with a blast, and even after the boys get dropped back home, Doyoung and Jaehyun roam around a bit more.

    Jaehyun and Doyoung find themselves resting on someone’s front doorsteps, eating bars of candy by the masses as they exchange talk. Jaehyun’s breathing is stilled, as they aren’t doing much physical activity, and therefore his speech is the slightest bit less stilted.

    Jaehyun asks something that surprises Doyoung, simply because it sorta came out of the blue.

    “Do… you--- have any… dreams?” Doyoung raises his eyebrows at the question, but munches thoughtfully as he comes up with a response.

    “Iunno, I’m kind of stuck between a rock and a hard place right now. When I was little, I wanted to be a singer. Then, I wanted to become an actor, like my brother. After than, I wanted to be a doctor. You can see where I ended up.” Doyoung laughs, and Jaehyun smiles. The chocolate bar is still wrapped in his hands, and even Jaehyun’s heatless fingers are starting to make impressions in it. Doyoung sighs, plucks the bar out of his hands, and unwraps it. The brunette nudges the chocolate at the other’s chapped lips.

    “C’mon, I’ve been eating all of our load so far. I’m gonna get diabetes if I continue at this rate.”

    Jaehyun stubbornly shakes his head. He’s always had his eyes on food, yet Doyoung could never really figure out why the other abstained from it. If he didn’t feed off of humans, what did he feed off of? Fossil fuels? Raw sunlight? Was he vegan?

    “S...orry.”

    “Don’t ‘sorry’ me, if you didn’t want to eat any, you shouldn't've acted so excited when trick-or-treating earlier.” Jaehyun covers his ears in embarrassment. He can’t blush.

    Doyoung gives up on convincing Jaehyun to take responsibility for the candy, so he bites off of the new bar while finishing off his old one.

    Jaehyun speaks up again, this time chuckling.

    “Y’know, if only-- you were a doctor…” Jaehyun mutters. “Then maybe you could’ve fixed me, and I could’ve gone on human adventures with you every season of the year…”

    He coughs.

    “S--sorry, that’s...cheesy…”

    Doyoung just feels melancholic as all hell. He’s bad at being empathetic, but Jaehyun was the picture of pity. His build was strong, and he towered over Doyoung. He was literally a real-life Frankenstein, but due to natural selection, he acted lost within everything he did. He felt bad, really, but at the same time the statement irked him. Jaehyun was Jaehyun, and no ‘fixing’ would ever negate that.

    Doyoung frowns, and stays silent. Jaehyun feebly keeps laughing in an attempt to cheer Doyoung up, but promptly stops when Doyoung’s mood doesn’t change.

    “I’m sorry, that was a joke.” Jaehyun gulps. “-- zombie joke.”

    “I know it was a joke, but don’t beat yourself up like that.” Doyoung mutters, and looks up at Jaehyun. Jaehyun’s pupils dilate a bit, and the whites of his eyes almost glow in the dark.

    “You don’t deserve any of this. You seem so smart and interesting, whatever even happened to you...?” Doyoung sighs, looking down at the chocolate in his hands. “If...you don’t mind me asking.”

    Jaehyun says he doesn’t remember much, except for the fact that he was studying to become ‘something important’ until ‘something bad’ happened to him. He had a loving family, and he remembered studying abroad at some point. He might’ve had a girlfriend at some point. He doesn’t remember. If he did, he doesn’t remember her name, either. There was a chance he had siblings; or at least a big family of cousins.

All this information made Doyoung feel like utter .

    He pats Jaehyun on the back, the mood being too depressing for the both of them to handle.

Doyoung was starting to get almost as cold as Jaehyun was, and when he shivered, Jaehyun pulls off his flannel to hand to Doyoung. Doyoung denies it at first, but then Jaehyun reminds Doyoung that he’d be cold either way, so he may as well take it. It smells like dirt, and the city. In a sense, it smells like Jaehyun, because that’s pretty much what he smelled like.

    “Hey, Jaehyun.”

    “---eah?”

    “Do- er- did you have any dreams?”

    “...”

    Jaehyun attempts to fold his hands, (numb fingers deterring him,) and looks down into the street.

    He shakes his head, and Doyoung feels slightly guilty for bringing it up. But then Jaehyun’s raspy whisper of a voice picks up and carries on.

    “I… -ave one n-now.”

    Doyoung nods attentively.

    “But I want to keep it secret.”

    Doyoung pats Jaehyun’s back with understanding; his dream was probably something unachievable and cliche, like becoming human again. Doyoung didn’t blame him for not wanting to say it out loud.

    The two pick up their trash, dust off their butts, and walk back to the store on a happier note.

    The effort didn’t really help.

On the way back, Doyoung begins to think about the things the two spoke about earlier that day. It was true that during normal business days it would be hard for Jaehyun to come around. Doyoung wonders what will happen then- would Jaehyun still come and visit him? Would Jaehyun even have anywhere to go when that time came?  Would he get shot again? If he did, would he even be able to make it to the store a second time?

...Doyoung doesn’t really want to find out.

Doyoung hugs Jaehyun before they go their separate ways. He doesn’t really know if it’s because he felt sorry for bringing up the past with him- or if he was afraid to admit that he had grown attached to the corpse during the last few weeks. He doesn’t want to say goodbye for good, but there’s a nagging feeling at the end of the day, that reminded him of the feeling he would always get whenever something good was about to end. Jaehyun was the nicest thing to happen to him during the entire month; and there was a big possibility that was going to end.

Doyoung breathes in Jaehyun’s scent, and although it’s not too pleasant; it’s him. Jaehyun’s trying his best to wrap his nerveless arms around the other’s back. Despite being lifeless, his shoulders are firm and supporting.

Letting go, he’s about to bid farewell to Jaehyun for the last time, but he catches Jaehyun mumbling.

Jaehyun asks for paper and pens, and doesn’t discern why. Doyoung doesn’t really care, he’s happy to supply his friend with all he needs.

Quickly dashing into the store and back with the nicest stationery he could find- lined paper with cartoon cows dancing about- he takes his time to walk back to Jaehyun, because he knows the minute he gives him the papers, he could be gone for good.

Gingerly grasping the paper the best as he could, Jaehyun tucks them underneath an arm as his breath makes mist in the air.

“T-thanks. Z--ombie fingers, y’know.” They both smile, and Jaehyun lingers about for a bit longer than what Doyoung knew how to deal with. Finally breaking from his stance, Jaehyun swiftly- about as quickly as Doyoung ever seen him move- clasps Doyoung’s shoulder, moves in, and gives the shorter man a peck on his forehead. His lips are dry, and feel like sandpaper, but Doyoung turns a bit red anyhow. This was the first time he ever got a forehead kiss from someone who wasn’t his mom or Donghyuk.

“I ----like --- you.”

“Thanks ---f-f--or-- everything--”

Doyoung clears his throat sheepishly, and Jaehyun’s doing his awkward smile as he begins to trudge off. As he’s limping away, he turns back to wave, and Doyoung waves back until Jaehyun’s silhouette is engulfed into the darkness.

Doyoung only then notices that he’s still wearing Jaehyun’s raggedy flannel shirt when he’s starting up the ignition on his car. He sees his own frown in the mirror, and promptly tries to wipe it off. He repeatedly looks back to his sleeves, and then into the rear-view mirror.

He shoves his hand into his left pocket, and then into his right. He feels a newly-wrapped package of aspirin sit cozily in his pocket.

It’s almost like the past month had been a dream.

The next day, Doyoung comes into work during an appropriate time of the day, to help his daytime counterpart, Taeyong, clean up the aftermath of Halloween and its leftover decorations throughout the morning.

Rather than really helping, it was more so Doyoung playing with the hem of his flannel sleeve while whistling out a tune, as Taeyong broke his back trying to reach all the skittles that made their way underneath the shelves.

Doyoung’s mind is clear, but he can’t help but think about his zombie friend every now and then. He wonders what would happen if the corpse managed to haul himself back to the store later that night, despite it no longer being the time of year for zombies and skeletons- would he be sad to see that Doyoung wasn’t there? Would he wait for him in hopes of him showing up?

Doyoung snaps out of his daze when Taeyong hits him with a broom. Jesus. Taeyong shoulda been himself for Halloween. He was already a witch to begin with.

“Someone’s calling for you at the door. He looks respectable. You better not come back here telling me you got complaints from him about your service, y’hear me?” Taeyong intimidatingly drawls, and the broom that was used to assault him gets shoved into his palms. “And go sweep outside while you’re at it.”

Doyoung gulps at Taeyong’s trademark glare, and skitters off to go see who could possibly be out for him this early. Inspecting the ground on his way for any signs of stray debris, he bumps into a tall person’s chest, and lets out an ‘oof!’ in surprise.

“Watch out!”

Doyoung clenches his eyes shut, and regains his balance using the broom just before he could make a fool of himself.

“Hurf… sorry, s...i…r...” Doyoung begins to rattle off his line of apology, but gapes at the man standing in front of him in broad daylight.

He was fair-skinned. Not “light”, or “pale”. He had a perfectly healthy glow to him. Yes, a Healthy glow. His scleras were a pearly white, and his dark pupils steadily gazed at the flabbergasted older male in front of him, while his irises were the most beautiful shade of dark brown Doyoung had ever seen. His cheeks were tinted a rosy red, and his lips were the prettiest shade of red Doyoung had ever believed a human could achieve naturally. Doyoung could almost not believe his eyes; he almost had a double take. It was Jaehyun, standing right there before him, and he looked like he got the life right back into him.

The other probably found Doyoung’s eyes bulging out of his head to be amusing, as he let out a hearty laugh. He didn’t even wheeze afterwards, his handsome face crowned by two little dimples.

Doyoung feels himself getting nauseous again. This time not because of random bullet hole wounds, but because of sheer shock and confusion. Finally letting the imagine in front of him sink in, Doyoung yells.

“YOU PIECE OF ! WHY AREN’T YOU DEAD!?” Doyoung whaps Jaehyun with the broom, and Jaehyun actually yelps in pain.

As if by a sheer force that rivaled the speed of sound, Taeyong rushes in from somewhere amongst the storage rooms and dropkicks Doyoung in the back.

After minutes upon minutes of explanation from Doyoung to Taeyong, and apologies from Taeyong to Jaehyun over Doyoung’s ‘chronic rudeness’, Doyoung and Jaehyun are finally left on their own in peace.

Doyoung is about to blow his mouth off with questions, but Jaehyun simply hands him a sheet of stationery with a warm smile.

Dear     store  clerk,

Thankyou    for    being my friend. Even  though    I have    caused    many    minor    inconveniences     for you    during     these   past   few days.       I  really  appreciate   how nice you    have been        to me.

    It really makes my heart go warm.

I     have something     to confess.

My  bullet hole wound wasnt     new

I    lied     about    getting shot

Sorry.

I   actually     came    to     the   store    on instinct and all that

I was going to freakin die

I was very hungry,

I    was going to eat you.

But then I saw your face.

(Youre r eally cute by the way)

And things just got really awkward

I think I lost my appetite.

No offense

But at the same time

the time I spent with you felt just as good as bashing someones skull in.

So i kind of bugged you with my presence   for a  while.

Sorry about that too.

I probably owe you a lot of money.

From all the stuff i wasted.

But what im trying to say is…

I think you’ve changed me.

And I’ve never been

So

Grateful

For that.

so

Thank you.

When you asked me what my dream was, i actually thought deeply about something for the first time in a long while.

I thought; ‘certainly, i want to stay with this person longer.’

But then i remembered what i was,

And i started to have second thoughts again.

But you managed to sound reassuring. And you told me things that i never heard anyone say to me, even when i was alive. It was minimal; and you probably didnt put much thought into them when you said them, but at the same time,

It   affected me so much.

So thank you for that.

I really don’t know where im going with this.

….But i think I like you a lot.

And i imagined a lot about how it wouldve been like if i could be your human boyfriend.

I almost tried to convience myself that that was what was happening at some point.

Now Isnt that just gross?

Grosser than the dead skin behind my earlobes.

Ha. ha. Haha. zombie joke.

But really.

Im dead serious.

Haha.

Doyoung can’t help but grin as he reads the letter, cheekily looking at a red-eared Jaehyun.

Flipping the page around, he sees that there’s a little more.

Every now and then, i feel a thumping in my head.

I havent heard that noise in forever.

I really think you’ve changed me for the better.

So i want to ask if i could stay with you.

You probably dont really know how ive changed, but i do,

And i think you may be what could help me change for good.

So please.

    This was all too good to be true, but when Jaehyun clears his throat and asks a single, clear, question with a smile;

    “So… how about it?”

    Doyoung guesses he didn’t mind all too much.

    You can probably guess what he says in response, and when Jaehyun gives Doyoung another peck on the forehead, this time soft and sweet,

    It’s almost like a dream come true.