Murder was a beautiful word. For Kim Jaejoong, it was. The art of life taking; learning of what precise shooting and accurate stabbing were. So beautiful. Blood that spilled out of his victims, their agonized expressions at the final, and how they let out their breath for the last time were just little prizes he could enjoy for learning the art correctly. Learning in what psychology situation they could be taken correctly, without any slight of clumsiness and mistake. Poisoning, choking, beating, where’s the art for those?

And just like any other arts, Kim Jaejoong learned how to seep in every moment of making his own creation. Heart was the most common place he pierced on his victims—or he would rather call them materials, then temple, then a precious shaft just under their chin—the throat. But temple was his number one favorite—it was a bit difficult to reach, yet how his victims fell as he made it; the result, was pretty, slow motioned sometimes, something he would cherish on more than the other two places.

The art of murder, just like any other arts, would be even more beautiful if he made it for his love, fueled by lust, and topped with undeniable amount of desire.

Murdering Lee Nayoon, that infamous wife of Jung Yunho, would be the greatest pleasure he could ever known.

“No, Joongie. He’s mine. Jung Yunho, he’s mine.”

The voice of Park Yoochun, who worked on the same art as he was, rang in his head. Even he could almost smell the smoke Yoochun exhaled when he said so.

Kim Jaejoong filled his baby with another bullet. He smiled. The neon lights of the buildings outside made his face of a delicate beauty glowed red and blue. The same light illuminated on his baby which he held in his arms; his baby, his instrument for his arts.

Competition would make murdering became even more interesting. The thrill, the lust to win, and the will to make the best picture of a killed victim, they made him shiver, in thrill.

~~~

“Morning, Yunho.”

Yunho watched as his maid placed a plate of nice blueberry pancake on his table. The maid bowed a little, and he smiled in thanks. Lee Nayoon frowned in irritancy; her husband bothered to spare a glance at their maid, but not to his own wife.

Well maybe she really deserved it. She sighed a little. “You’re early,” she said again. He got silence in reply. “Look, Yunho… I…”

Yunho glanced at her from under his eyelashes, daring her say another word. Nayoon bit her lip, struggling to find a better start for their talk.

“Of course I’m early, I have an interview. I’m a hardworking man and ought to do my job well.” He bit another piece of his pancake, eyes no longer on his wife’s. “And I expect my wife to wait for me patiently, preferably giving me pleasant welcoming.”

“Yunho, I’m—”

“Sorry.”

“No, I—yes, I’m sorry, but that’s not what I want to talk about.”

“Then what? That maybe I should buy you more silk dresses?”

“Damn it, let me talk, Yunho!”

“I do let you.” Yunho propped his chin on his palm, still chewing his breakfast. He turned his head slightly, just enough to look at his wife’s eyes. And the attire she slept in last night; simple pajamas and T-shirt. Yunho scoffed, recalling the lingerie she used to seduce him after work.

“It’s… ; I don’t know how to start it.” Nayoon groaned and clicked her tongue. “I’m… so sorry. It was… I mean with Dongwook, it was…”

He cringed, recalling the mentioned man’s silver watch. “It was what?”

“Mistake.”

“Mistake?” Yunho let out an exaggerated noise of sympathy. He made a face, looking at a piece of pancake on his fork, moving it as if it was a puppet. “Aww, I’m sorry Yunho, it was a mistake!” he said in girly voice.

“I mean—”

“So making out with him in a kitchen with you wearing silk dress was a mistake? Just a mistake?”

“He was talking about his cheating girlfriend, and I served him some of your cans.”

“Instead of wines? And he got drunk and you two were making out.”

Nayoon frowned at her husband’s choice of words. She sighed, nodding a little.

“And you welcomed him with a skimpy dress.”

“It was actually for you, yet he came and—”

“You didn’t refuse him. You are cheating me, Lee Nayoon.”

“I love you, Yunho.”

“So you do, in fact, cheat me?”

Yunho chewed on another piece and turned at his wife. Nayoon’s eyes were wide. His words had hit the nail on the head. Her hands fisted her pajama pants, her breathe quickening. Yunho exhaled heavily, taking the last bite of his pancake and got up.

“I’m leaving.”

“Yunho!” His wife took quick steps, grabbing his arm with both hands. She pulled on his limb with such force Yunho could just shrug off easily, yet he turned at her anyways. Her eyes were teary, the same eyes that had made him rush to soothe or kiss her. “Please Yunho, I’m so sorry.” She buried her face into his bicep, sobbing into his jacket.

She felt warm fingers touched her cheek, then gripping her chin to tilt her head upwards. “How long it had been?”

“I don’t know… a few… months…” Her grip tightened, more tears fell onto her face. “I’m… so sorry.”

Yunho said nothing in return. His small eyes bore into her wider ones. They spoke no emotion, and Yunho’s lips made neither a frown nor a smile. They stayed still, feeling their attendants’ eyes on them from somewhere nearby the kitchen, listening to their conversation.

After a few minutes, Nayoon sobbed again. “Yunho…”

“Hush...” He leant down, claiming her lips in a soft kiss.

Just a soft kiss a husband would give before going to work. Nothing more. Nothing.

It was just a kiss in a conjugal visit. Nothing more.

~~~

The building was huge. A magazine redaction building.

Here, Jung Yunho would hold an interview.

And here, Kim Jaejoong was standing just next to a storage building, nearby the parking lot. Just perfect, hidden by the main entrance yet easily be found when he parked his car there.

He, Jung Yunho.

A familiar sleek black car went by, right in front of his eyes. He smirked.

The car stopped just a few meters away from him; at his eleven o’clock to be exact. An elder man went out of the driver seat and hello there…

Jung Yunho stepped just from the front passenger seat, black rimmed glasses on his nose, red shirt under a black jacket, and tight black jeans. Damn he looked so tasty. Jaejoong bit his lip before it.

Yunho spoke with the elder man—his manager. He laughed at something his manager said, and then accidentally—just accidentally, their eyes met. Yunho’s smile was gone.

Jaejoong smirked, because the look Yunho gave wasn’t a look that told him to get out of his sight.

There was a hint that Yunho wanted to see him after this.

A/N: My, that was sure take long…

I almost forget about this fic, LOL xD

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