After falling in love, shouldn't he wake up to sunshine mornings and cloudless skies? To birds chirping and wind chimes? To the light through blowing curtains? To light kisses and a spreading warmth in his chest?

Not a grey world outside. Not an uncomfortable jab in his side. Sehun groans and turns; his arm had lost feeling.

Something is restricting him from moving back. His eyes flutter open and meet with a pair of sharp ones right in front of him. Dark circles, cold black pupils. Tao gives him a smirk and a peck on the forehead.

At least he got one thing.

"Good morning," Tao whispers to him.

Sehun makes a noise in return, something along the lines of "merf", and he moves closer to Tao's body.

He leans up for a kiss. Sehun feels dizzy. He had been right; they'd slept through the night. Oversleeping had always made him feel a little lightheaded. His lips meet Tao's for a second before the latter pulls back asking, "Ready to go downstairs?"

Sehun feels around with his hand before grabbing Tao's arms and gently pulling them around his own waist. After succeeding in the somewhat difficult task (the blankets are tangled up all over the place) he snakes his own arms around Tao's waist and rests his head on his chest. "Nah," he says. He'd much rather just stay here forever. No matter how hot and stuffy it feels.

Tao lets out a "tch" and goes along with his boyfriend's (his heart thumps at the word "boyfriend" in his head. Is Sehun his boyfriend now?) will. He gives the younger a squeeze and pulls him up to a sitting position.

"Don't be lazy now," he chides. Sehun lets out a yawn. Tao mentally compares him to a cat, sleeping all the time and prying himself to be awake during the hours he's up with caffeine and affection. He's a strange one.

Sehun climbs out of bed with the speed of a century old turtle and about as much grace as a one too. He looks down at his pajamas, wrinkled and twisted. He straightens them out and shrugs to himself, figuring changing would be of no use anyway.

"Breakfast?" Tao asks.

"Shower," Sehun responds, already tugging open his dresser drawers and throwing clothes onto the bed. Tao dodges a shirt that comes flying his way.

"Coffee first?"

Sehun slows his mad outfit-throwing to look at him, a shine in his eye. Coffee, or hot chocolate, in the morning. Now that is always a plus.

"Sure," he closes the drawer and pulls Tao out the door.

Down the hall, Sehun sees Yi Fan walking their way. He feels a little embarrassed being seen coming out of his room, but Yi Fan is his butler, after all. No reason not to see him comfortable in his own house.

"Good morning, sir," Yi Fan says to him as their eyes meet.

"Good morning, Yi Fan." Beside him, Sehun feels Tao take hold of his wrist.

Sehun ducks his head and walks past, clutching at Tao's fingers in a sort of reassurance that being in a relationship with his ex-bodyguard is perfectly normal and he should most definitely not shy away from being seen by his butler.

The blush on his cheeks say otherwise.

Yi Fan makes a half circle around in order to avoid bumping into them. As he walks past Tao, he whispers in his ear, "You've crossed a line you can't afford to touch."

Tao grimaces and his fingers scramble to tighten their grip on Sehun's hand. He keeps his head up as Sehun gives him a look and they walk on by.

In his head, he screams, Go away.

"Go wait in the other room," Tao lightly pushes Sehun out without looking up some hours after they'd woken up that morning.

Sehun stumbles to a stop. "What? Why?"

"Nothing," Tao starts to search around before sheepishly looking up at Sehun and asking, "Do you have an apron?"

"My god," Sehun grabs the apron from the chair back and walks up to him, "are you going to cook?"

Tao brings a hand up to his face. "Maybe."

Sehun pushes his hand down to pull the apron over his head. He stares at Tao's blush. "Are you trying to be domestic?" He reaches around Tao's waist to tie it behind his back.

"No," Tao denies, looking down at him to catch his eye.

Sehun finds his gaze caught, unable to drag himself away from coal-black pupils and a sort of softness that he adores. His fingers fumble and he finishes the knotting. "I'll sit there and watch." He points to the bar stools.

"Absolutely not," Tao shakes his head. His silver earrings dangle, catching the light.

"Why?"

"Because that's..." He mumbles the rest of his sentence.

"What?"

"Because that's embarrassing," Tao says, defeated. The second the words are out, he regrets it. Weak. He sounds weak.

But Sehun laughs lightly, turning around and taking a seat on his usual bar stool. He rests his chin on his hand, and his elbow on the table, grinning. "I promise I won't laugh at you."

"You swear?"

"I swear."

"Okay. Then there's one more thing."

"What?"

"I only know how to make fried rice."

"Excuse me," Sehun says as he covers his face with both hands and hides under the counter. Though he can't see it, Tao hears contained snickers and giggles.

Tao walks over and flicks the back of Sehun's head. "You're lucky I know how to tolerate you."

Sehun stops laughing to openly smile at Tao. "Does your apron say 'Kiss the cook'?"

"I don't know, it's yours." With all the will he can muster, Tao keeps himself from looking down.

Sehun leans up to kiss Tao's lips lightly. "What do I win?"

"Nothing," Tao gives him another kiss. "Leave me be."

Sehun buries his head in his crossed arms on the countertop. "Have fun. Please don't burn my house down."

Tao snorts. "Shut up."

If Tao can help it, he'll make sure Sehun won't eat the manor food for the rest of his life. Even if it means he has to make fried rice for eternity.

"Tao?" Sehun yawns for the third time in the last forty-five minutes.

"Yes, Sehun-ah?"

Sehun's heart thumps at the informality. "Don't... Never mind. I'm not that hungry."

"That because I'm done." Tao walks over with his dishes, setting up utensils for them in a homely fashion.

Sehun takes a bite the same time Tao does as well. "Tao?" Sehun looks up at him.

"Yes?"

"It's dry."

Tao sighs. "Next time?"

Sehun nods, leans over, and gives him a kiss. "Hey, you tried." He finds himself being braver by the minute, saying affectionate words that come to mind without another thought.

He wants to get closer. Ever closer. And it's dangerous, like an adrenaline rush through every vein, a spark that courses through his bloodstream.

He kind of likes it.

They pause in their eating, silent, to pass an understanding through their eyes.

"Tao?" Sehun keeps his voice soft, steady, shy. He's not sure if he should ask.

Tao nods to will him onwards.

Sehun opens his mouth and backs out at the last moment. "Nothing," he turns his head away.

But Tao stops him with a finger, tilting Sehun's chin to look at him. "What is it?" He stares Sehun down, determined. "You do not have to be afraid to say anything to me."

"It's really stupid."

Tao rests his forehead on Sehun's. "That's all right."

Sehun takes a breath and with a perfectly straight face, he asks, "Is this okay?"

Tao's eyes widen because, he realizes, he understands exactly what Sehun is implying. The truth is that he knows. The answer is no, no it is not okay. No, this surely cannot survive. No, there's a truth behind everything.

"Of course it is." Tao gives him a kiss, a light touch like butterfly wings, like a gentle breeze. There and gone as fast as it'd come. The connection is filled to the brim with a sense of reassurance. "Of course it is," he repeats, as if convincing himself. "Why wouldn't it be?"

Sehun seems to start saying something, "Because I know..." His voice gets lost in the air, a wisp of smoke.

Maybe it was his imagination.

Yi Fan thinks over his list of options.

Poison, the last thing he'd ever typically resort to, is now his only option.

There are infinitely many ways to kill someone. And infinitely many reasons. He tells himself it's the money, it's the wealth, it's the family vengeance.

The devil in the broken gears of his mind scream otherwise.

That perhaps it is the satisfaction.

He cannot succumb to its cries. He cannot be as twisted as it claims. It cannot be true.

Blood justice is simply a much better excuse to the ear.

Physical killings leave simply too much evidence. Of course, any type of killing does, but there are ways to lead false trails, or get rid of evidence completely. The witnesses and back sources are another problem, but not entirely a difficult one.

No, everything must be planned up to the very last drop. Down to the second the body gets cold, anything can go wrong. It's a morbid thought.

There are only so many vials of poison a person can have in possession. One down, failed. Another half used, wasted. His patience is dwindling and his once-top grade assassin is now, alas, a traitor. No. On the other hand, he could still have an ounce of loyalty in him.

Factors. There are too many factors.

His head is a web of thoughts, trailing from one to another, all ending at the same point. Somewhere in that mess, there is a goal.

He walks down the hallway, pulling off a glove and dropping the half-empty vial in his pocket. If this doesn't work, there are a thousand other times to use it, a thousand other things to sabotage.

For example, the boy's medicine.

He's known his whole time in this house that the young master took a certain pill every day. A minor prescription for his attacks, his weak lungs, his fragile body. Sehun, long story short, has not the best health conditions.

If all else fails, yes, there is the box on Sehun's dresser top. As a sort of side note, almost. If he isn't dead, then he can make his way there. Would he even notice the lack of medication? Yi Fan hasn't been monitoring him these days, maybe the boy's already stopped taking it. In which case, he's already growing more vulnerable.

All the more better.

Jongin incessantly drums his fingers on his desk in a sort of restless impatience. He avoids paying attention to Mr. Kim's endless drone of words, avoids falling asleep on his desk, avoids thinking about last night.

Sehun hadn't come. So what? He's fine. He's alive and well. He just can't leave his house.

He's okay.

But the thoughts that Jongin has are useless. He knows the reason he's thinking them. It's a nagging little thing in the back of his head, a feeling he kept caged up and away from view.

In all honesty, he doesn't -care- as much as he used to. Sehun obviously hasn't died from previous threats and his company is nothing Jongin can look forward to anymore. He is a presence that is no longer there, a ghost of the boy, the best friend, that Jongin must now wait for to return to him.

The harsh truth is that these thoughts are simply to justify Jongin's loyalty.

He has another thing to look forward to.

The bell rings.

Jongin jumps in his seat.

The door opens.

The class falls silent.

Like a new daily ritual, Kyungsoo makes his way over. With every step, Jongin feels his own heart thump. Another step, another regret.

Kyungsoo looks pale today, and even thinner than usual. His cheeks show a light pink that complement the rose of his lips. His uniform is ever meticulously worn, each fold and each wrinkle in place. His dark hair is swept to a side, just reaching his eyebrows. He peers up at Jongin, who quickly averts his eyes to Kyungsoo's hands unraveling lunch boxes. Long, thin fingers untie the fabric knot and hand him the plastic lunch box. As he takes it from Kyungsoo, Jongin's fingers brush against his in a deliberate and almost loving way. Kyungsoo notices the gaze then, and immediately lets go of the lunch box, pulling his hand away.

That directed stare had given him hope. False hope, he's sure. Kyungsoo can't allow himself to be fooled. Not again.

"I made that thing," he says to snap Jongin out of that look. It works. "The thing you told me about yesterday. From that restaurant."

Jongin nods. He doesn't care.

He opens the lunch box. Doesn't care.

Takes a bite. Definitely doesn't care.

That Kyungsoo still makes him lunch. That he took the time to go to the restaurant and check on the dish. That he made it especially for Jongin.

A wetness threatens to overflow from the brim of his eyes.

What is that feeling in his chest? That empty ache in his soul?

Kyungsoo looks on, surprised at the sudden appearance of tears. That is not the reaction he'd been hoping his cooking would induce.

"Are you okay?" Kyungsoo asks, frantic, and looks around his bag for a napkin. When he finds one, he leans and reaches over to wipe the moisture from Jongin's cheek.

Jongin nods, seemingly unconsciously. Somewhere between Kyungsoo's worry and the feel of the fabric in his face, he'd made a rash decision. He takes firm hold on Kyungsoo's wrist, his expression glazed over with the drunkenness of guilt, and pulls. Kyungsoo jerks forward with a yelp, a noise that is rapidly interrupted by the clash of his teeth against Jongin's as their lips meet harshly, pressing sure and solid.

Kyungsoo, upon becoming aware of the situation after a second  of incomprehension, pushes himself back and away. A hand over his mouth, he grabs his bag and dashes out of the room without another word.

Jongin, still dazed, looks around the room at the dozens of students staring at him, tempted to shout out, "What are you looking at?" He catches the shocked, and slightly disappointed, face of Baekhyun, who gives him one shake of his head, telling him no. It is then that Jongin fights his way aware and drops his head in his hands. Slowly, one whisper at a time, the room returns to normal volume. With shaking fingers, Jongin repacks the lunch boxes and walks out of the room.

He does not come back that day.

He has a bad feeling about tonight.

It's purely instinct, but instinct has never failed him before and Tao doesn't see why it would now. Yet he has no choice but to go to sleep lest he raise Sehun's suspicions.

But there is one last thing he must know. "Sehun?"

"Yes?" Sehun pulls blankets over the both of them.

"Where do you keep your phone and things? Wallet, keys, et cetera," Tao asks.

Sehun pauses before answering. "Are you trying to rob me?"

Tao lets out a strained laugh. "Sehun, please. You know why I'm asking."

Just in case, Sehun pictures him saying. He looks at the man he loves, a man with more paranoia than common sense. "Top drawer, the nightstand next to you."

Tao nods. That's all he needs to know.

He flicks the light. "Good night, Sehun." He pulls the boy into his arms and kisses his hair lightly.

"Good night," Sehun breathes down his shirt. He stays close, letting their inhales and exhales come and go in sync. So close, he thinks, that their heart beats even match. A rhythm to their love, a beat to their story.

All songs must come to an end.

Tao stays stock still purely for the purpose of not waking Sehun. In his hold, the young master is struggling and squirming in his sleep, perhaps another nightmare. Tao, however, has a deafening urge to leave the room. It had been hours, but sleep would not welcome him and he would not fight the urge.

He gently pries Sehun's fingers off his waist, slowly and cautiously. Sehun lets out a little moan, only to turn, curl up into a ball, and continue sleeping. Tao sighs in relief and makes his way out of the room. He walks across the dark hallway into his own bedroom and, on the way, he picks his jacket off the door handle. Taking a seat on the bed, he pulls out the object in the back pocket.

Around and around, he rolls the gun in his fingers, taking seconds, moments, to observe its familiarity and stare at the smooth metal. He reminisces at what once was. His past goals, his past ideals.

He was Huang Zi Tao, a boy trained to survive.

He was Huang Zi Tao, a child handed a lifetime of opportunities.

He is Huang Zi Tao, a man who wants to give up all of that and stay in the manor. Who wants to live a real life. Who wants to know what is normal, and what has he been doing all this time. Who wants to settle down.

Who wants to, most simply put, be with Sehun.

He stares at this gun and tests out the weight of it, holding his arm straight out and aiming it at the door. Closing one eye, he mentally aims. He imagines a body standing there. What would it be like to kill a man? To watch him fall, never to rise again? To bear the guilt, the shame, the knowledge that he would live his life tainted with the black of death on his hands?

The door opens. He hides the gun behind him. In walks Wu Yi Fan.

Tao wonders what Yi Fan was like before his training. Before he started all this.

Yi Fan closes the door behind him. "Do it," he says softly. "Why don't you do it."

It wasn't a question. It was a suggestion.

Tao doesn't even look up at him. The defiance is there in his eyes, a glimmer in a pool of black. "No," he calmly replies.

Yi Fan takes a step closer. "I'm sick of your waiting. You remember, don't you? That's why, dear. That's why you're here. Because you're thinking of it."

Tao glares at him from behind blond strands. "I said no."

"If you won't, then I will."

"Haven't you been already?" Tao stands.

"Don't try me," Yi Fan's hand reaches behind him.

Tao can see it. He can see what's going to happen. He sees the entire scene unfold before his eyes, sees Yi Fan's fingers twitching for that trigger, picturing the blood spill on his hands. Can see him finishing him off first, then going across the hall to finish it all off. Can see him being the winner, wickedly grinning as he gets away with it all with the words "I was too late" and "the threat".

The first story where the bad guy wins from every angle, tying up the ends nicely. Blaming it on Tao. Whatever it takes.

And that's when they both snap.

Before Yi Fan can grab his own, Tao takes his gun and jams the of it against the side of Yi Fan's face. It would be enough to stun him, but not wound. He knows that Yi Fan had been trained his entire life to fight through pain. All he needs now is time, not injury.

Yi Fan cries out with anger, hand flying up to where he'd been struck. Tao takes the chance to run out the door. He whips out his key and locks the door from the outside, then kicks the knob right off the wood. Kicking had always been his strong suit. He isn't sure what the kicking the handle had to do with it, but he figured it would buy him some time.

He dashes across the corridor back into Sehun's room. The commotion had awoken the younger, but he is still mumbling in bed. Tao gives him a shake on his arm, telling him, "Get up. Sehun, get up."

Sehun groans, rubbing his eyes. "Wha... Why?"

"Get up. Now. Quickly." Tao grabs one of Sehun's jackets from the closet, throwing it at him.

"But...why?" Sehun sits up slowly, jacket in hand. He pulls it on, unsure of the reason for doing so.

Tao bares teeth at him as he pulls the top nightstand drawer right out of the casing. "I said get up! Now!"

Sehun's eyes widen, shocked, but he obeys. He jumps out of bed. Tao had never yelled at him before. Not like this.

Frankly, it frightens him.

Tao roughly grabs at Sehun's things -- his wallet, phone, keys. He shoves them into his pockets. Taking hold of Sehun's wrist, he runs out the door, Sehun stumbling behind him. As they leave, Sehun can hear a slamming on a door somewhere nearby and furious screaming.

He runs.

They arrive at the front door in seconds, Tao already helping them both put on the first pair of shoes he sees. He himself adorns heavy black boots, and Sehun the red sneakers they'd bought the time they'd gone out the house. Both have no time for laces. Tao begins dragging him once more and they burst out of the manor onto a snowy lawn. More flakes are starting to drift in the air and a storm threatens to approach. A shiver runs down Sehun's back, disturbing his gait, but he's anxious to keep pace with Tao.

"But why? Where are we going?" Sehun yells at Tao ahead of him. The cold bites at his face and hands, the rest of his body covered by thin, measly layers.

Tao turns to answer, but stops when he hears a gunfire from the manor. "Just run."

With a hollow feeling in his chest, Sehun gulps and allows himself to be taken away from his home.

Another gunfire is shot. It sounds closer.

"Tao, what is that?" Sehun yells, cowering behind his arm. A rush of panic courses through his veins.

With a desperation that only comes in near death moments like these, Tao shouts, "Just run!"

A fear from both ahead and behind, Sehun nods. They continue running.

A/N Hi everyone! Super late update 'cause I went on vacation for spring break and I didn't have wifi the whole week ;;

I wrote this in bits and pieces whenever i got bored, so there might be some awkward parts and some typos. Don't be afraid to tell me if there's a typo, and for any awkward bits, I'll consult my editor(s) and fix it asap ;u;

Thank you soooo much for 61 votes and all you subscribers and readers T^T <3 what did i do to deserve you all

and um my birthday was on the 25th hehe /cough/ i mean nothing :)

ATTENTION! A looong time ago, I took a survey and readers voted that they wanted an M/ part in this story.. Due to recent events (aka um my friend reads this for me), I cannot and will not try writing this. HOWEVER, if someone wants to write a part for me, message me and I'll give details about it and I'll see if I want to add it in. Of course, if this happens, I'll give credits to whomever wrote it :) Thanks again