“Nervous?” Jongup smirked, nonchalantly moving the gun aside and entering your apartment. You stared him confused and wide-eyed. How could he just brazenly walk into your apartment!? You were too exhausted to venture that question any further and decided that the quicker you figured out what he wanted the quicker you could kick him out of your apartment.

“What the hell are you doing here?” You growled, crossing your arms across your chest as Jongup seated himself on your couch comfortably.

He boredly glanced around your simple apartment, noticing the shattered glass that decorated your floor. “Seems someone had a tantrum.”

“Go to hell.” You growled, glaring holes into the man, though he found it more amusing than intimidating.

“Already living in it,” He flashed you a devilish smirked. “Anyways I came here because I was curious.” He picked up a few trinkets that littered your coffee table, eyeing them boredly.

“About what?” You raised a confused and irritated brow.

“Whether my little marion was in one piece.” He smirked, turning his attention back to you. Watching your movements attentively.

You rolled your eyes, before you rubbed your temple with your free hand. “I can’t talk to you sober right now.” You groaned, heading into your kitchen to grab a glass of vodka.

Jongup let out a scoff before glancing down and noticing a picture frame partially hidden under the coffee table. He examined the photo in his grasp, staring at it curiously. The photo was not taken that long ago, a few years ago perhaps. Such a stark difference in expression. You looked so happy. In the arms of this unknown man. A glimmer and innocence in your eyes instead of the fire and passion he saw now. His eyebrows furrowed. To think that his little marion had such a soft side. Could make such a carefree expression. Something that he himself didn’t understand. Free. Happy. Things he was not familiar with. He couldn’t quite put a finger on exactly what emotion he saw gleam in your eyes, and that bothered him. He felt like he was missing a string to his puppet.

“Looks like my little marion had her own puppet master.” He looked up from the frame to meet your wide-eyes. You were frozen, speechless.

“Give me that!” You ripped the frame out his hands, gripping the photo close to your chest. Jongup raised a brow in curiosity. There was a crack in your wall.

“A weakness I see,” He grinned, approaching you like a lion hunting their prey. You merely growled at him as he stood in front of you, leaning in and gently a lock of your hair. “A crack in my little marion’s wall?”

“I don’t know that you’re talking about.” You ripped yourself away from him, glaring him down. Daring him to approach you again.

“Emotions in this kind of work only end up in death, you know?” Jongup smirked as he watched you glare at him.

“It’s ancient history,” You placed the photo down on your kitchen counter, before facing the predator in your living room. “I’m going to ask you one more time. What are you doing here?” You growled, hands on your hips.

“I told you. I wanted to see if my marion was in one piece.” He grinned, getting up and shrinking the space between the two of you.

“I’m fine.” You looked away from him, not wanting him to even see an inkling of weakness that may flash in your eyes.

“Really now?” He grabbed your chin and turned your head towards him so that he could look into your eyes. You stared back at him, trying to read his intentions of his visit. “Cause it seems that the fire in your eyes has dulled.”

You ripped away from his grip and snarled. “Well than what do you want me to say, huh?” I’m weak? Pathetic? An idiot for getting caught? A wuss for letting some creep get to me?” You could feel hot tears begin to well in your eyes. You let out a slightly maniacal laughter as you swung your head back, placing your hand over your eyes. “That I’m not strong enough to take care of myself? That everything I am is just an act? Will that satisfy you?” You gripped Jongup by the collar, the venom in your words increase as each sentence was spouted out. Jongup silently watched you, unchanged by the poison leaving your lips.  

“No,” Your eyes went wide at his words. Shocked. Confused. Jongup gently gripped your wrist and removed them from his collar. “Why in the world would I feel satisfied that my marion feels defeated?” He chuckled, running his fingers through his hair. “You’re mistaken. I don’t enjoy broken toys. What’s the fun in that?”

“Well I’m broken,” You scoffed. “I let myself get captured. I nearly got you guys killed. I was…..” You clenched your fist tightly, the white of your knuckles revealing themselves. “…nearly . I’m not this strong, invincible toy that you thought I was.” You growled. More angry at yourself than you were at him. Mad at yourself for being so helpless. For letting it affect you so much. For it traumatizing you.

“Who cares about being strong?” Jongup raised a curious brow at you. “You don’t need to be strong to have power. Being weak, broken, helpless. That’s merely a stepping stone.” You looked up into Jongup’s eyes and for the first time you saw a glint of emotion. Sadness? Conviction? You weren’t too sure, but you knew you saw human emotions in his eyes.

“What if I can’t get pass this stepping stone?” The rage and self-hatred you felt began to dissipate, leaving only fear and uncertainty. What if you couldn’t get out of this? What if something like this happened again…

“You will.” He smirked, full of confidence. You stared at him, brows furrowed at his unfound confidence.

“How do you know? You a psychic or something?” Jongup let out an amused chuckle at your accusation.  

“I was six…maybe eight? My memory is a bit blurry from that time,” He tapped his cheek, trying t recollect long forgotten memories. “First time I had to sell dope for my deadbeat of a father some of the buyers tried to jump me. Thought I was a fine peice of and I could earn a few extra bucks for daddy’s drinking habits,” Jongup let out a small chuckle at the memory.

You stared at him in confusion. You had thought that his father was some well-off wealthy socialite. Well that’s what he had told you before. If what he had said before was a lie, what stopped this story from being a lie. Your mind was muddled. Confused. Should you trust him? Continue to listen to his lies? Or possibly his truth? Your mind was stuck in this endless tug-of-war. Was it his mother that hurt him? His father? Was he poor? Was he rich? Was he abused?

“If I didn’t make quota I became his personal punching bag,” He tapped his chin in contemplation. “Even if quota was made, I was still my good ol father’s favorite stress ball,” He let out a small chuckle. “If I was really lucky, daddy dearest was too drunk to hold a bottle so he would use his fist,” You watched him intently. Was he playing you again? “‘You’re the reason your of a mother left,’ ‘you’re a useless son of a b***h,’ “I should slit your throat right now and save the trouble later,’ Motivational words of an award winning father,” He let borderline maniacal laughter. “But he should have known better than to come at me with the kitchen knife,” He wagged his finger and shook his head in a disapproving manner. “What was it that Darwin said, ‘survival of the fittest?’ Well I wanted to survive and I wanted him to die.” A psychotic grin spread on his face.

“Jongup…” You didn’t know if there was any truth in his words. You wanted to believe. You wanted to think that there was some reason as to why he was this way. So unhinged. Demented.

“As you can see, marion, I’m as broken as they come,” He ran his fingers through his hair, his eyes losing that glint of amusement and returned to that of a predator. “But I survived,” He grinned, gripping your chin so that you would look into his eyes. His touch softer. “No matter what hell life liked to throw at me, I survived,” He smirked, gently caressing your cheek. “If a street rat like me could survive, you can.”

“You’re not a street rat, Jongup,” You placed your hand against his cheek. In his own twisted way he was comforting you. Giving you hope. The last thing you would expect to receive from him. “You were hurt. Taken advantage of….and at such a young age,” You bit your lower lip, trying to collect the words you wish to say to him. “You didn’t ask to have such a life….”

Jongup scoffed. “Like I said before, marion. You’re too naive and sweet for this world,” He removed himself from your grasp and sauntered towards your kitchen counter, picking up the picture frame. “You should go back to the world where you belonged. Before that crack in you gets bigger.” He tossed the photo across your wooden floor, the frame sliding towards your feet.

You picked up the photo, staring at the life you had. You could of had. “I can’t go back…” You placed the frame on the coffee table.

“I give you an opportunity to escape, marion, and you refuse me?” Jongup chuckled. “Seems like you wish to take my kindness for granted.”

“I refuse to run anymore…from this. From you,” You cautiously approached Jongup, placing your hand on his cheek. “I don’t know if I should even trust your words…..”

“You shouldn’t.” He smirked, reading your eyes. For once he could not discern anything from them. He was not the one left in uncertainty. The unknown.

“I had a feeling…” You let out a sad chuckle. “But a part of me knows that you’ve been hurt. You understand what it’s like to be broken….left unfixed…” You gently ran your thumb across his cheek, causing Jongup to twitch. Tenderness. It was a feeling he was unfamiliar with. “You didn’t leave me broken, so I am certainly not going to run from you.”

Despite your better judgement, you placed your lips against his. You didn’t know if you were simply exhausted or seeking comfort. Or perhaps you wanted to comfort him. You didn’t know and in this instance you didn’t care. You could feel Jongup smirk against your lips as he returned your kiss, gripping your arms and pulling you closer. He didn’t even allow you to even react to his sudden pull as he forced his way into your mouth. Excavating every nook and cranny. Like a lion examining its territory. His hands trailing down to your waist and gripping them tightly, causing a small hiss to escape your lips. He roughly nipped your lower lip enough for a small amount of blood to mingle with the kiss. The taste of iron and life mingled with your and his lips. A carnal feeling of lust and desire bubbled inside of you as you gripped his shirt. A moan that you tried to suppress leaking out. A small chuckle escaped from Jongup’s lips, seeing this side of you excited him. Intrigued him. But it was too easy.

He cut the kiss short. Separating himself from you, gently wiping the small amount of blood that stained your lips. Flicking his tongue against the remnants of your blood off his thumb. You stared at him confused as slightly annoyed that he had ended the heated session. “Let’s stop here, marion.”

“What?” You mouth went wide, flabbergasted at his words.

“You’re high off alcohol and emotions,” He smirked as he walked past you, kicking aside some of the shattered glass that littered your living room. “It just makes the game too easy,” He chuckled as he put his hands in his pocket. “I’ll see you later, my sweet naive marion.” He boredly waved as he exited your apartment. Leaving you dumbfounded and annoyed.

“What the actual f**k,” You groaned as you slumped down to the floor. Even more exhausted than when you came home. You wanted to beat yourself up. You screwed up. You let yourself get played by your emotions. Give in to a snake. “What the hell am I even doing anymore…” You scratched the back of your head vigorously.

Thanks for reading! Comments and feedbacks are appreciated!