Warning(s): cursing
Length: 6.4k words

Ange freezes at the iciness of Baekhyun’s words. She hasn’t known him for long, and it’s technically true that they aren’t friends, but it still stings in its own way. At the very least, she hoped to make a decent impression on him. Unfortunately, there doesn’t seem to be a chance that she can even manage to get on his good side.

“You’ve disobeyed me twice,” Baekhyun states, “and now I’m getting you out of trouble. Are you an actual child?” He points a finger towards the abandoned school. “What the hell were you even doing in there?” When it seems like he can’t grow any angrier, he scowls harshly. “And why the were you there with Mark? Did you put him up to this?”

“I-I-I swear it’s not what it looks like.”

“It’s exactly what it looks like.” Baekhyun shakes his head in blatant disapproval. “You need to start being more careful. People are ing dying out here, and you think you can just run around recklessly like this?”

“Well, what am I supposed to do?” Ange retorts. Out of respect, she doesn’t want to reply so rudely to someone older, but Baekhyun is beginning to sound a lot like her older brother. “Should I just sit in my house all day and do nothing? And you’re one to talk. You race cars on the streets and doing God-knows-what-else!” Baekhyun stares her down, but Ange isn’t one to back down. “You’re doing what I’m doing,” she continues, “and the way I see it, you’re doing far worse than I am.”

“So you’re saying we’re the same?” Baekhyun crosses his arms and raises an incredulous brow. “Because we get ourselves involved in trouble?”

“Well, s-sort of.”

“Angel, you don’t even know how to drive. You are not on my level, and we are not the same.” Baekhyun scoffs, shaking his head once more. It’s a humiliating statement, but it’s true. Ange is, in fact, not on his level. The difference between him and her is that he knows what he’s getting into—and she clearly doesn’t. “Get in the car,” Baekhyun demands. “I’m driving you home.”

At the mention of home, Ange’s palms grow sweaty. “Hey,” she stammers, “please don’t tell my brother what happened.”

Ange thinks that Baekhyun will laugh in her face and tell her that she’s an idiot for requesting that, but to her surprise, he merely shrugs.

“I’m not here to ruin your life, Angel,” Baekhyun says with nonchalance. “You’re already doing a great job with ruining it yourself.” Ouch. Ange pauses mid-step to look at Baekhyun; she can’t believe that he’s capable of such hurtful and passive statements, and she wants to call him out for it, but he holds the car door open for her—making the moment feel exponentially worse. “Get in,” he says softly. “I’m not the only one with a reputation around here.”

What does that even mean? Ange has a million questions that she wants to ask Baekhyun, but she has already overstepped any and all existing boundaries. Instead of groveling any further, she does as he says and steps into his car.

The car that Baekhyun is driving tonight is the one that Ange recognizes to have seen from a few nights ago. She doesn’t know of its make and model, but upon sitting in the passenger seat, she gets a good look at the car’s logo on the steering wheel. Toyota. Its silver, elliptical shape seems to glow when Baekhyun opens the driver’s side of the car and the lights turn on. He slips into his seat with more ease than Ange did, and his movements—of twisting his car keys into the ignition, of pulling and buckling his seatbelt, of placing his hands around the steering wheel—are so fluid that it wouldn’t be a farfetched suggestion to say that this car was made for him.

“You drive a Toyota,” Ange mumbles when Baekhyun places the car into first gear.

“The fact that you’re saying that like it’s a bad thing tells me everything I need to know,” Baekhyun mumbles back.

“And what’s that?”

“You don’t know about cars.”

Ange has no defense for that. Once again, he’s right. Absolutely spot-on. “Then tell me. Enlighten me,” she says. “You’re a street racer. Why do you drive a Toyota when you can drive a Ferrari or something else?”

“Do you think I’m poor?”

“W-What?” Ange frowns. “No, I didn’t—”

“Then what makes you think I don’t drive a Ferrari either?”

Before Ange can backtrack, Baekhyun starts chuckling to himself. It’s a low sound that starts at the back of his throat but creeps into his mouth until he’s laughing so loudly that even Ange cracks an uncomfortable grin. The mood is slightly lifted within the car, but the tension remains.

“You shouldn’t ask so many questions,” Baekhyun says after composing himself. His voice is dissonantly tender despite his ominously vague warning. “If I was anyone else,” he continues, “your pretty face would be on the ground, Angel.” He turns his gaze away from the road for a moment to glance at her. “People don’t like it when you start going through their business around here.”

“I can tell.”

“Oh, do you?” Baekhyun scoffs and presses his foot harder into the gas. His car zooms forward suddenly, leaving Ange literally holding on to dear life. “You know, I’m trying so hard to be nice to you, but you make that so challenging.”

“Well, you’re making it challenging for me,” Ange bites back. She watches the side of Baekhyun’s face as he clenches his jaw; she thinks of what’s going on beneath his admittedly handsome exterior but comes back without a clue. “My brother trusts me with you, but I can’t trust you. Your house is burned, for god’s sake! Then you point a gun at me—”

“Because you went in my house,” Baekhyun interjects, “specifically when I told you not to.”

“Did you really expect me not to get curious?”

“So what? You can be curious and not overstep people’s boundaries.” Baekhyun starts to slow the car down when they approach intersections with more cars. Despite them being in the same city, Ange can almost feel a change of charge in the air. “If you wanted to know more about me,” Baekhyun murmurs, resting one hand on the steering wheel, “you could have just asked. I think that you’ll realize that asking me an uncomfortable question is much less consequential than snooping through my life.”

His words take Ange aback. Not only are they somber in tone, they’re surprising in that they’re kind. Even after everything, he still wants to give her that privilege? To let her ask him questions?

“But you just told me I shouldn’t ask so many,” Ange points out. “Because people don’t like that.”

“That’s true. They don’t,” Baekhyun confirms, “but I’d rather have you ask me something than have you go out and try finding out for yourself.”

“Really?”

“I’m not an contrary to what you think of me,” Baekhyun answers, making Ange blush in embarrassment. (She recalls that night where she specifically called him an and dies a little on the inside.) “You just learn to distance yourself, and sometimes people think you’re wrong for it—even when you do it out of protection.”

“Then can I ask you something?”

“What’s on your mind, Angel?”

Ange wants to ask Baekhyun so many questions—about why he’s so broody, why he ever got involved with street racing, why his house is partially burned, about why he only calls her Angel when she has specifically told him multiple times that it’s not her name—but they get stuck in . Instead of asking something that has the potential to have a useful answer, Ange asks about something that’s genuinely bothering her.

“Do you hate me?” she blurts out. “Because I mean, I think you’re cool—like way cooler than anyone I’ve ever met,” she confesses in a near-incoherent babble, “and I want to know more about you and what you do, but I don’t want to, you know, make you hate me more. And like—”

“I don’t hate you,” Baekhyun interrupts once more. He sounds so lucid and calm unlike Ange that she wonders what’s crossing his mind to make him like that. To her, it’s obvious that he’s thinking about other things—and that he’s not really in the car right now. “You’re just very…explorative, and sometimes it’s a nuisance.”

“So you think I’m annoying?”

“No.”

“Then what do you think of me? If I’m not annoying, what am I?”

Baekhyun takes a deep breath and slowly exhales. They’re slowly pulling up her and Kyungsoo’s apartment now, and Baekhyun can very well just ignore the question, but he stops the car by the curb and taps his fingers on the steering wheel as he thinks. The nearby streetlight casts yellow shadows on his face and makes him look broodier, but he opens his mouth to say something that’s unexpectedly warm.

“Let me get to know you first,” he answers quietly, “and then I’ll tell you.”

Ange is both mystified and flattered by the non-answer, but she takes it regardless. If there’s a chance that Byun “Lux” Baekhyun wants to know her, then she’ll take it because she wants to know him too. She peers into his dark eyes and smiles in hopes that it’ll get him to stop looking so angsty, but he doesn’t even bat an eyelid. Instead he arches a brow and nudges his chin towards her apartment—as if to tell her that she needs to get out.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Angel,” Baekhyun says, and she takes it as her cue to go.

Ange walks up the steps to her brother’s apartment, and it’s only when she’s inside that she hears him rev his engine and drive away.

- - - - -

Monday is cold. It’s so cold that Ange can see her breath turn to frost in front of her very eyes, so cold that it snows for nearly an hour before it stops—and apparently so cold that even Baekhyun doesn’t seem he wants to be productive. Upon entering his car workshop, she finds him sitting and quietly reading a book. His hands are clean and free of any signs of grease, leading Ange to believe that he hasn’t started on any previous work either.  

Ange takes a moment to just look at Baekhyun, and a smile makes its way up to her face when she observes how soft he looks compared to last night. His hair falls in such a coconut-like way, and it’s accentuated by the expression he makes; he has his lips pursed, pushing his cheeks into little round balls. In the place of last night’s leather jacket, he’s also wearing an oversized beige sweater that makes his already broad shoulders seem wider. Seeing him so calm and civilian makes Ange giggle to herself, and Baekhyun whips his head upwards.

“What’s so funny?” he snaps.

“Nothing,” Ange mumbles, trying to stifle a laugh. “You just look…” She shakes her head. “Round.”

“Round?”

Ange can almost see the gears turn in Baekhyun’s head which makes her lose control of herself. She laughs, shakes her head again, and nudges a shoulder towards his workshop. “Never mind,” she says. “What are we doing today?”

“We’re not doing much,” Baekhyun replies as he closes his book. “Customers don’t usually like travelling through the snow unless it’s absolutely necessary.”

“Are you gonna teach me how to drive some more?”

Baekhyun arches a brow. “In the snow? I don’t think so, Angel.”

“Then what are we doing?” Ange pulls up one of those foldable chairs Baekhyun has leaning against a shelf and props it by his. “Are we gonna make snowmen outside?”

Ange thinks that it’s a lame joke, but to her surprise, Baekhyun cracks a small grin. “No,” he answers, “but that’s an idea.” Ange tilts her head in question, and Baekhyun’s grin turns more mischievous. “I actually wanted you to help me wash one of my cars, but…” He shakes his head. “I have a better idea. One I think you’ll like.”

“What is it?” Ange asks, her interest now piqued. “Are we gonna go on a drive?”

“For someone who thought driving was boring, you seem to enjoy it a lot.”

“Well, yeah, I like looking at the scenery and stuff.”

One corner of Baekhyun’s lip—the side with a mole on it—curls upward. “Then I was right. You’ll definitely like this.”

The next thing Ange knows, Baekhyun is pulling on a puffy red jacket and leading her out to his back garage. There, he uncovers one of his cars to reveal a white pickup truck. Like his other normal car—the Nissan—this one has four doors, making it a hundred times easier on the eyes unlike his sleek Toyota. The only thing intimidating about the truck is that it’s a little tall.

“Where are we going? Are we going to the city?” Ange inquire once Baekhyun has exited the garage. “Are we—”

“All in good time,” Baekhyun assures her. “I promise that you’ll like it, though. It has a nice view.”

Ange tries to think of what the Daegu-version of “nice view” looks like, but all that she can think of is France, the Eiffel Tower, and the Parisian rooftops where she and her friends enjoyed a good amount of debauchery. So instead of trying to paint a picture in her head, however, Ange turns to Baekhyun with those million questions loaded on her tongue.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Fire away.”

“Why are you a street racer?”

“Getting into it right away, huh Angel?” Baekhyun makes a right off the main road, towards the directions of the hills and forests. “I love cars and driving,” he says tersely. “That’s why I race. Without it, I’d probably be dead from boredom.”

“But what if you get into an accident? Wouldn’t you be dead then?”

“I don’t get into accidents, Angel.”

“I don’t believe that,” Ange says incredulously. “Even if you’re a good driver, you’re bound to run into some stupid people—and stupidity is contagious.” She expects Baekhyun to have a quick-witted reply to that, but he just casts her a sideways glance—as if to call her out on her stupidity, so she continues with her line of questions. “So,” Ange continues, “what happened to your family? Where are they?”

“They died,” Baekhyun replies in a monotone. “All of them. I’m the only one left.” Ange immediately feels bad for having brought up a sensitive subject, and opens with a waterfall of apologies to gush out, but Baekhyun keeps her from doing so. “I don’t need to hear it again,” he says. “I’m okay.”

“Still—”

“Let me ask you something.” Baekhyun glances at Ange, his brows furrowed. “What do you want to do with your life?”

Ange sinks into her seat with a sigh. It should be an easy question to answer, and for most people, it is—but she’s not “most people.” She’s her, and that means that she doesn’t know anything. As embarrassing as it is not to have a direction in life, it’s all that she has ever known.

“I don’t know,”