“Come on, Sora. You can’t be serious.”

“I’m very serious, Bang Yongguk.”

“He’s tried to kill you. Multiple times.”

“He says he was misguided.”

“Misguided about what exactly? By afterlife decency? Respect for the living? ing hell, Sora, you can’t trust him as much as you can touch him.”

“I can touch you just fine, but I can’t trust you to give me anything but mysterious, misguiding answers to every single question I ask.”

I made a good point, I think.

“If this is about you being mad at me, be mad at me. You shouldn’t pull naive bull like this in an attempt to get my attention.”

When did I ever say I was mad at you? Is that just something I do now? Am I just pissed at you all the time in that, albeit nicely formed, thick skull of yours? I’m just a child writhing about in order to receive the blessing that is your eyes on mine? 

Either you know exactly how I feel and you’re just being the demon that you are, or you’re just as naive as you think I am.

“Explain how, after everything I’ve done in my grandfather’s place as Master of the shrine, I deserve to be treated like an innocent, young babe?”

“This, Sora, this is why. If you want to stop being treated like a kid, then stop pretending. Stop acting like you don’t know exactly how dangerous it is to make deals with bad-natured spirits.” 

“And you’re not a bad-natured spirit then? You being my friend isn’t dangerous in the least?”

“I’m not your friend, Sora. Having attachments to everything and anything no matter who or what it is just because you’re lonely is a habit you need to break.” 

Low blow, Bang Yongguk, low ing blow.

You’re not my friend? Then I’m just your employer? I mean nothing past three meals and a few bad jokes at the end of the day? 

“ you, Bang Yongguk.”

Was my comeback, my “storm out” statement before I, well, stormed out of the room with a wordless Luhan trailing close behind me. My last sentence to Bang Yongguk, Mr. Demon, the guy I discovered I like not even three months ago, before I proceeded to ignore him for the entire week following it. 

Because, to me, he deserved it.

He deserved whatever ty feeling he felt — that I hope to all hell he felt — as I slammed the front door of Ms. Kim’s house in his face.

By the way, sorry about that, Ms. Kim.

I’ll pay for the damages after I’m done cursing my demon back down whatever pit he crawled out of — even if I end up wanting to whisk him right out of it the immediate second after.  

“Thanks for nothing, gramps.” I declared, ending my phone call to my grandfather abruptly. Because I’m not scared of an old man, no matter how much those lightning fingers of his must hurt. 

After asking him how I go making Luhan a full-blown spirit, he ended up lecturing me thoroughly for fifteen or so minutes. Something about responsibility, making promises I couldn’t keep, and duties I had to uphold. But it’s not Luhan’s fault he got the short end of the stick after he died. 

Never mind the fact that he’s got a pretty face, he didn’t have any choice but to attempt to kill me. Others that shall not be named and that I hope are still wallowing in their own little holes of regret, insert cough, Mr. Demon, another cough, would disagree. But that’s because they haven’t heard the pretty boy’s side of the story yet. 

“That black mass that almost ate you, well, that did eat you before your boyfriends showed up and blew it into the next spirit plane—”

My boyfriends? I wish. Just one of them though. Not all of them. Just Mr. Demon. No, scratch that. I’m still pissed at him. He doesn’t deserve the butterflies in my stomach as I imagine what’d it’d be like to be his girlfriend. 

“Had threatened to do the same thing to me. And I don’t have anyone to rush to my rescue. I get eaten, that’s the end of it for me. So, I struck a deal with him. Apparently, he has no issues getting leftovers. As in, whatever’s left over after you become roadkill.”

What a pleasant image.

“Those kids you were with for awhile, before they became protector spirits of the supermarket, were too scared to tell you it’d been lingering for a long while. I’ve tried to tell you all of this before, to be on the winning side of all of this—”

His loyalties are finicky at best, but at least he’s chosen right now, right? 

Right?

“But that Dokkaebi’s been watching out for me. He’s got some serious territorial issues, without a doubt.”

That explains the faraway glances at nothing Youngjae’s always doing. And here I thought he was being philosophical, poetically Shakespearian, and aloof in that “cool, mysterious guy I want to unravel” kind of way. 

“That thing is still out there, but I’d rather not have to kill such a pretty lady, if you know what I mean.”

Luhan graced me with a smile, cheesy and flirtatious in all the right ways. I kicked his leg from where I sat on the couch with him — because I’m smart enough to have figured out that all it takes to touch a drifting spirit is a little bit of determination. It struck in him a kind of pain that made him scrunch his facial features into something I’d run for my life from should it ever come out of my television screen one stormy night. 

“As much as I’d love to know how to get rid of it for good, I’m pretty sure this pretty lady needs to visit her pretty-much-almost-healed,” why is he even still in the hospital anyway, “grandfather to find out.”

“You said you needed me to explain it all to you, but you’re catching on faster than I thought you would.” Luhan suspiciously titled his head to the right, all cute like. Like really cute. Like how can someone be this cute? I want to squish him into a bear hug until he dies for the second time.

“I’m a fast learner.” I responded, because I like to think I am.

Besides that, I’ve been doing this whole spirit business since January. It’s almost been half a year since then, so I better be catching on quick. Just as quick as I was to stand up as the doorbell rang just then, though Luhan was just a tiny bit faster. 

“I’ve got it.” He held his hand out to me, stopping me from interrupting him and whatever glorious reason he had for volunteering to get the door in the first place, “It may be that guy you like. The one with the deep voice and the long neck. And have you even figured out what you’re supposed to say after ending your conversation the way you did?” With another smile, he boasted, “I’m a fast learner, too.”

“Just get the door, spirit boy.” I rolled my eyes, keeping my face turned away from him.

Because who knows how I look right about now? Not me, and therein lies the problem.

“You got it, lovestruck teen.”

“I turn twenty in two months, so don’t sass me you prepubescent little girl.”

Luhan laughed, his voice fading as he got farther away, “That one actually stung a bit.”

“Apply some cold water to that burn.” 

I yelled absentmindedly, because I was too busy wondering if he could manage to open the door at all. He’s not a full blown “eternal” spirit yet, just a small manifestation of energy, so he’d have to be pretty hard-pressed to manage to interact with something on the human plane of existence: i.e. a door.

Apparently, he had managed himself just fine as he came waltzing back into the living room.

“Well, who was it?”

“I can’t exactly introduce someone I haven’t bothered remembering, can I?”

I jeered, “Touche.”

Only to almost choke on my sarcastic laughter the immediate second after. I really shouldn’t have turned around, no matter how adorable Luhan must have looked feeling all accomplished and what not after having been able to open the door without difficulty. Because, of all people, of all spirits, he’d opened the door for the one I wanted to see the least.

Not the brown-nosing Xiezhi: Zelo. Not the polite in manner and attitude Haechi: Jongup. Not the slightly annoying yet undoubtedly charming Gumiho: Himchan. Neither the Shakespearean Dokkaebi, Youngjae, nor the Demon of both my nightmares and my dreams — who I shall still not name because if I say his name I’ll miss him and if I miss him I’ll want to forgive him and if I forgive him so quickly then what was the point in getting mad at him in the first place?

No, it was the black hole, the kiss-stealer, the Tokebi: Jung Daehyun.

“So, you let someone you don’t even know in?” I glared so hard at Luhan’s temple as he walked by nonchalantly there’s no way I didn’t burn a hole right through his soul. 

“You let me, a ghost that’s tried to kill you, in through your window in the middle of the night. I’m pretty sure we’re two peas in a pod and you should really start expecting this kind of behavior from me.” He retorted.

“I have no words.” 

His logic was too damn sound.

And with a shrug, his departure was too damn quick — even for me. 

He left me all alone, Daehyun’s own glare shooting off round after round into the back of my skull. He was pissed at something or other, and I honestly didn’t want to know the specifics. But, I’m pretty sure he was here to tune me in to whatever moody music he’s been listening to lately. And this pretty lady, no matter how pretty apt she is at getting out of situations, had a feeling there was no avoiding him this time. 

“Yo,” I rose my hand into the air, only to have it sink down meekly as he rounded the couch, plopping down where Luhan just was — though just a teensy bit closer. “Oh.”

Staring right at me from beneath a fluffy head of brown, he declared, “I’m here to request a meal.”

I leaned back, because it just felt like he was right in my face, my own personal bubble, even if he wasn’t — realistically — at all. “If you haven’t noticed, I’m kind of not on good terms with you guys, again.”

He wasn’t having any of my supposed “bull.”

“Since you’ve been blatantly ignoring me for the past two months, I think I deserve your attention for at least a single minute of your human life.”

I cleared my throat, sitting up at attention, because I figured I might as well get this confrontation over with. “And you have it.”

“I want you.”

I laughed outright.

“This isn’t a game, Sora.” He continued, knee bumping up against mine, striking a funny bone I didn’t even know existed as pins and needles traveled up my spine, “It’s not some elaborate joke or some clever ruse, so stop laughing like you’ve figured this all out.”

Remember just moments before when it felt like he was close? Well, it no longer merely felt like that. Now, he simply was. The entire left side of his body was flushed against my right, my back bumping up against the couch’s armrest I hadn’t even realized I’d been shifting towards this entire time. 

“I want you.” He said again, face so close I bent backwards, his chest hovering mere inches from mine, “And I can’t stand yet another one of your temper tantrums stopping me from seeing you.”

He had me trapped.

And I’m pretty sure my inner prayer of “Holy ” wasn’t helping.

“If you think the way to worm yourself into my heart is through insults, you’re dead wrong.” 

My voice was reduced to a whisper as I held my breath, arms crossed against my chest as I played dead. Don’t ask me why that was my body’s instinctual, go-to position. I figured no matter how much he “wants” me, he wouldn’t want me if I’m dead. Right?

Right?

“I’ve been dead for over seventy years now.”

Hold on a second.

Hold on just one ing second, Jung Daehyun, because you’re not making any sense right now. All this “I want you” one-liner, as he who shall not be named would say, bull aside, what you just said boldly contradicts where no contradiction has contradicted before.

I’m a Star Trek junkie lately, so sue me.

“Wait, what’d you just say?”

“I’m done waiting, Sora.” His hands made my face feel small as he cupped my chin, a heavy sigh dancing across my lips, “I’ve never been a man of patience and I’m not about to start changing anytime soon.”

He lowered himself. His features blurred. He kissed me for the second time. Then a third. A fourth. A seventh. Counting at this point is pointless.

There’s this say, . A, ing hell. You see, I just. Wow. Just hold on. Just, wait. Just. . What’s he doing with this mouth of his? 

me. 

As I promptly drowned in a flurry of out-of-this-plane-of-human-existence kisses, I forgot how to breathe, let alone think. So, let me reiterate the words I attempted to get out before Daehyun showered me with more gratitude than my body could take.

There’s a saying that goes like this: You can’t teach an old dog new tricks.

Jung Daehyun, the Tokebi, is one exception to this rule.

A/N: I'm sorry, I couldn't hear you over the y Daehyun moment in this chapter. So, yeah. I'm starting to have no excuses lately for what I'm writing. I sat down, this came out, I have no regrets.