Chapter Seven

Nightmare

 

      Youngjae felt his head, the covers tightly restricting his movement, making it almost difficult to rid his frame from the steady bindings of the white silk sheets. The throbbing almost caused him to lose all his strength and collapse right back down from the lapse of sudden strength. He let out a tiny groan, his chest pounding against his ribcages. It was as if he was still in the midst of a large surge of adrenaline.

 

      His vision was cloudy, but he could hear the faintest murmur of voices. One he’d recognize without much effort, as his sister’s tone of voice was purely her own. The other one was deeper, and softer, less feminine but someone still ending up more on the girl side than his manly sister. The whispering was faint, but the urgency was clear in his sister’s voice and Youngjae himself had long sense grown accustomed to it’s shrill sound.

 

      “He still hasn’t woken up.” Seoyeon hissed, glancing over to her comatose brother whilst the other stood firmly without much change in stance.

 

      “It hasn’t been so long,” the other replied, and it took Youngjae a long moment to finally recognize it’s faint trace of remembrance. The scattered remnants of his head finally felt like it was making itself hole

 

      “It’s been long enough. The longer he is like this-” Seoyeon placed her palms, flat against her face, quickly cutting herself off before she could continue.

 

      Never being one for ease dropping, Youngjae tried to move his lips to speak, but quickly found his dried out throat constricting him silent. His entire frame was drained of energy, and the effort he had placed into lifting himself up early, had completely stripped him of any strength. He attempted to open his lips, and call out for his obviously incompetent sister, who didn’t know how to take care of a Chia Pet, let alone a very weak Youngjae.

 

      From the corner of his eyes, he was able to see the door just slightly cracked open, and he was able to make out the familiar pounding steps of his sister pacing in her four-inch heels. Her hair was slightly disheveled and her eyeliner obviously wasn’t at it perfect wing and looked as if it had been aged through an entire night.

 

      It was only when she paced the final time, was Youngjae able to make out the face of Jongup, the head of his security. The man was no longer smiling, which was odd as Youngjae couldn’t recall a single moment of the boy doing anything but smile.

 

      Youngjae glanced away from the odd behavior, finding himself not truly caring how the man handled emotions. Youngjae swiftly glanced to the round nightstand, where a glass of water lay, just waiting for his weakened frame to take. His fingers twitched from underneath the covers, slowly moving upwards. The silk slid against his skin all to slowly, and when the cool breeze of winter hit his palm he slowly felt life come back to him. His hand shook, trembling as he attempted to stretch out and grab the glass so he could bring life back into his body and get back to real life.

 

      And real life involved studying…which he was sorely lacking in, much to his discontent.

 

      “He shouldn’t have- I shouldn’t have let him go,” Seoyeon continued, and once again Youngjae couldn’t seem to block out her voice. “I knew….”

 

      “You didn’t know when or how.” Jongup replied, and Seoyeon shook her head, her razor sharp teeth almost sinking a hole into her bottom lip.

 

      “It’s doesn’t matter. I knew it would happen. I should have done more.” She placed her head into her palm. “I let a human protect him.”

 

      “You know quite well that human is all that can-”

 

      Seoyeon raised her hand, signaling him to stop speaking. Her eyes were tightly shut, a habit she had picked up from a young age to calm herself down.

 

      Youngjae decided swiftly to ignore the words, as they were dribbled in crazy and his overactive and damaged imagination. He suspected that he had post traumatic stress from being hit by a car, as only such a vehicle would leave him such a headache.

 

      “How is the human doing?” Jongup asked and Seoyeon shrugged, her expression seemed completely out of it.

 

      “Daehyun? His hand is broken, but he seems well enough,” Seoyeon replied, and Youngjae glanced up, his head suddenly spinning out of control as a loud bang ran through his ears.

 

      The sound rung through his head, echoing in his skin making it hard to ignore as he could feel the waves of sound beneath his very eyes. The sound of a gun shot was soon followed by the image as red as blood, soaking through white cloth. Daehyun’s unsurprised eyes floated in his mind before he was broken from his state by the sound of the shattering of glass against wood floor.

 

      He shook his head, finding that he had knocked the glass of water onto the ground. It seemed to of done something for him in the end, as his sister instantly came dashing into the room, his eyes ran to her, but had no time to process her figure before she threw her arms around his weak frame.

 

      Her slippers crunched the glass beneath them, but she didn’t seem to mind the glass or the water that had already spread halfway to the door. Her arm wrapped around him before he had a chance to process his personal bubble being popped. He blinked, not truly understanding why she was suddenly so annoyingly affectionate, and found his arms too weak to shove her off.

 

      She pulled away first, and he saw her eyes were slightly glossy. He opened his lips to speak, but her palm flatly slapped against his skull before he could speak.

 

      “You idiot.” She snapped, and he paused once more. “Why didn’t you take the car? Why do you constantly thwart any decision I make to keep you safe? Are you mentally deficit.”

 

      “I’m an idiot? I have a 4.8. You’re the idiot. You couldn’t even finish Star Wars cause of all the words in the beginning.” Youngjae snapped back, and his sister hit him over the head again.

 

       “I was worried sick. Do you know how scary it was to watch Daehyun carry your unconscious body in this house?”

 

      “You let that ert carry me?”

 

      “That’s what you take from this?” Seoyeon make an annoyed hiss, lightly hitting the boy over the head.

 

      “Stop hitting me!”

 

      “Stop asking to be hit. Daehyun saved your life,” she snapped in return, and Youngjae blinked, his eyes unsteadily glancing towards his sister, the confusion apparent in his expression. “Do you not remember?”

 

      “Remember what? Why am I bedridden?” He asked, his hand laying against his head. Seoyeon furrowed her brows, her eyes snapping over to glance at Jongup, who had taken to standing near the door. His smile was back, but as far as Youngjae could tell, it didn’t reach his eyes, which were almost impenetrable. Youngjae shrugged, finding himself at a lack of care.

 

      Seoyeon raised a brow, the surprise almost immediately leaving her face as she adjusted her expression to fit the sudden tension that she was hoping to avoid. She was thankful…thankful he couldn’t remember. She was thankful that she could put the evitable off for a bit longer.

 

      “You were attacked,” his sister said, and her voice dropped to a level of what seemed to resemble an intensified version of her usual worry. “Thankfully, Daehyun was there to get you away.”

 

      “Did…they have a gun?” Youngjae asked after a moment of silence. Seoyeon blinked for a moment, her expression not changing.

 

      “Daehyun didn’t mention anything like that.”

 

      “But he got shot.”

 

      “Honey, no he didn’t.”

 

      Youngjae furrowed his brows, the memory from before felt physically vivid, and filled him with what almost felt like fear. Fear of who, of what, he didn’t know.

 

      “Where is he?” Youngjae asked slowly, and Seoyeon shook her head.

 

      “I tried to make him stay here, to rest, but he didn’t seem to want anything to do with it.” She replied, and he laid back, arms firmly crossed over his chest as he glanced towards the broken shards of the glass.

 

      “Glad you’re feeling better now, Youngjae.” Jongup said with a bright smile, to which Youngjae had no response for, as he found his eyes unable to look away from the ground.

 

      He remembered the sound that pierced his ears.

 

      He remembered, even if it was the tiniest glimmer of a memory…the smallest flicker of someone, taking a bullet for him…the blood was what he remembered more than anything.

 

⚉—•♚•—⚇

 

      “That looks pretty bad there.” Himchan stated, watching as Daehyun smoothly lifted his shirt, the blood had dried and now all that was left was a gapping wound in his back. “Why hasn’t it healed yet?”

 

      “That’s what I want to know.” Daehyun muttered in response. He noted that it had half healed, leaving a scar across his chest and a gaping wound that had blown threw his back. “Zico has a berserker.”

 

      Himchan let out a whistle, his lips forming into a sarcastic smile. “Looks like you had quite the night.” He continued, whilst propping his legs on Daehyun’s freshly polished table.

 

      “The night hasn’t ended yet,” came Daehyun’s comeback as he lifted his hand that was covered in blood-soaked bandages. “I’m not healing.”

 

      Himchan gazed his way, his eyes hardened as he slowly stood up and walked towards Daehyun’s bandaged hand before unraveling it and gazing at the deep slices that were close to making the man disabled.

 

      “When was the last time you were able to heal yourself?”

 

      “A couple hours ago. These wounds closed.” Daehyun said, taking a step forward. “They opened again.”

 

      Himchan’s eyes narrowed.

 

      “What is going on?” Daehyun quickly wrapped his hands in new bandages, his fingers not used to having to wrap his own wounds, causing the job to become clumsy and strange. “I’m slower than I ever was, my strength is diminishing, and I am starting to have feelings Himchan. F-Feelings. Like anger. Weak. Annoying, anger.”

 

      Himchan raised an eyebrow. “You’re not going to start asking to braid my hair are, cause I’m suffocating with your clinginess.”

 

      “ off.” Daehyun retorted smoothly, all emotion wiped cleanly off his face. “I’m serious.”

 

      “So am I, Jung Daehyun. So am I. You called me over here to make me watch you bandage your wound and listen to your teenage ramblings about feelings. I am not your diary.”

 

      Daehyun’s lips curved into a smirk. “And look who once again came running. Maybe I should buy a whistle and a collar to see just how far you’d go to being my .”

 

      “Always fun talking to you, but let’s be honest. Something is making your juices run on fumes. Pretty soon, maybe you’ll even start aging. Who know what would happen if, for all intensive purposes, you turn into a human.”

 

      Daehyun’s smile immediately washed clean and his expression went cold with an emotion that Himchan didn’t much understand.

 

      “That’s not actually possible, is it?” He asked, and Himchan opened his lips to snap a y comment before another voice answered for him.

 

      “If you’re not quick enough.” Yongguk said, walking into the room, his hand slamming open the door as he once again barged into the other’s house without so much thought.

 

      “You called him.” Daehyun hissed to the older man, and Himchan scoffed, as if saying ‘are you really surprised’ and sadly, Daehyun wasn’t very much.

 

      “Looks like you’re getting very close to the source of all this.” Yongguk said, and Daehyun raised a brow. “Very close. If even you are being affected.”

 

      “You knew this was going to happen.”

 

      Yongguk smirked, and nodded his head towards Himchan, who immediately bowed and retreated from the room, slamming the doors on the way out.

 

      “Of course I knew.” Yongguk said simply, walking straight to the bar and pouring him a drink. He seemed to change his mind about the size of sad drink at the last minute, as instead of taking the cup he had taken out, he went straight for the entire bottle of whiskey. “What do you think I sent you to that place for?”

 

      “How would I know?” Daehyun stated, walking towards the files had had sprawled out on the table, directly across from the bar that Yongguk nonchalantly leaned his elbow on. Quickly, Daehyun lifted one of the papers up, indenting his fingers into the already slightly wrinkled paper. “You gave me files on every single person living or around that house, but not a single description of what it is I am actually looking for when I’m there.”

 

      Yongguk took another chug from the drink, his smirk never once leaving his relatively graceful pose. He didn’t look interested in answering, and his shoulders remained relaxed as he pressed his back against the newly bought bar, both elbows propped on the counter behind him.

 

      “Take a guess.” Yongguk replied, and Daehyun slowly lowered the paper, his hand lingering against the table as he tilted his head to the side. The look of distaste washed over his expression before disappearing altogether.

 

      “You used me.”

 

      Yongguk let out a hallow chuckle, the husky sound rumbling into the whiskey bottle. “Don’t act so surprised. That is my right as your overlord. You’re mine, baby.”

 

      Daehyun scowled, not liking the sound, but for the most part, emotion was wiped clean. As he placed the paper back on the table, his eyes linger on the stalker photograph of Youngjae, carrying his books to his next class. It was a professional photograph, no blurry scenery and very little of the bush that that photographer had obviously hid behind.

 

      “Will I lose my powers?” Daehyun asked after a moment of silence, he watched Yongguk from the corner of his eyes, lowering the bottle onto the counter before using his thumb to swipe the moisture from his lips. He flashed a grin that didn’t reach his eyes.

 

      “Why do you think I choose you for this job?” Yongguk asked, and Daehyun glanced over, overlooking the blood that was starting to dry on the hardwood floor.

 

      “It’s not for my devilish looks, is it?”

 

      Yongguk chuckled. “You’re not my type. I into blondes this week.”

 

      Daehyun went silent, not really caring enough to answer. He didn’t seem to care about the conversation at all anymore. He wasn’t fully certain why he even brought it up.

 

      Yongguk smirked, his eyes held a glimmering knowledge as he watched Daehyun’s expression go completely empty. That in itself, was an answer.

 

⚉—•♚•—⚇

 

      “Did you miss me, baby?” Daehyun asked the studying Youngjae who barely looked up from the stack of books on the library table.

 

      “Bite me,” came Youngjae’s shallow remark, little else left in his expression.

 

      Daehyun smirked, placing his palms flat on the table, leaning over the smaller stack of books, managing to score the smallest eye twitch from the studying nerd. “Ohh. Is that an invitation. I do enjoy pleasurable consent.”

 

      Youngjae didn’t look up. “Actually, bite yourself.”

 

      “Will you watch?”

 

      Youngjae stopped writing, and slowly looked up. “I have a test tomorrow. Just because you may or may not of saved my life- doesn’t mean I owe you.”

 

      Daehyun’s eyes widened slightly, as if he had forgotten, causing Youngjae to grow more annoyed. “Oh dear baby. You do owe me.”

      

      “Weren’t you listening? I said I don’t.”

 

      “I was injured for you.”

 

      Youngjae sat back in his seat, his expression immediately soured as he gazed into the eyes of the man across from him. The silent battle of their eyes locked on one another seemed to go on for what felt like forever, neither of them having any desire to give up.

 

      Youngjae’s face consorted in what looked to be annoyed defeat as he picked up his books and stuffed them into his oversized bag before throwing it over his shoulder. He abruptly turned around, his back now to the slightly surprised Daehyun who somehow found himself following after the retreating Youngjae.

 

      The boy had walked away from him many times before, but this time it seemed different. Usually he would head straight to the exit, but this time he took a different route through the empty food court.  Daehyun was slightly confused why students would rather study than eat…actually he was confused that people would do anything rather than eat.

 

      Daehyun’s brows furrowed as he watched Youngjae go up to the barista, before immediately coming back with what looked to be a paper bag and two drinks, slightly steaming. The boy then sat down at the table, next to where Daehyun stood, setting one of the drinks in the middle of the table along with the paper bag, slightly folded to keep freshness. Then the boy leaned his back against the chair, his eyes narrowed as he took, what looked to be a reluctant sip from his drink.

 

      Daehyun hesitantly sat across from him, crossing his arms over his chest as Youngjae refused to meet his gaze. Daehyun slightly smirked as he saw the defiance and bitter edge in Youngjae’s posture, along with the uncomfortable tinge of annoyance that seemed to follow other around.

      “I don’t owe you anything…” Youngjae stated, and Daehyun raised a brow, “…anymore.”

 

      The sudden voice caught him off guard, and Daehyun found himself surprised. He was surprised by something that Youngjae did. Such a thing didn’t happen often, and when it did it wasn’t because the other did something considerate.

 

      “I’ll take it if you don’t-” Youngjae began, but was interrupted by the sound of paper crinkling as Daehyun opened the paper bag, pulling out a plastic container with a slice of every piece of cake in the glass window.

 

      Slowly, Daehyun took a sip from the drink. The warm tea slid down his throat and the warmth flooded his chest.

 

      Youngjae didn’t meet his eyes.

 

      And Daehyun was silent.

---

Author's Note

I've got a riddle for you. What travels the world but stays in a corner?

Give up?

Me too.
OMG >.>

I am so sorry for the late chapter but it's Christmas 5th and I thought I'd give a Christmas gift.

If you read that corrently, then you would have noticed the rhyme.

DaeJae is progressing. Plot is progressing. Author is hungry.

I think it's a good day. It's raining. But I'm hunrgy. It's raining. I don't have money. It's raining. I don't have an umbrella.

This is my que to sleep in the library as I wait for my next class.

Please wait patiently until the Christmas special.

Oh. Spoilers.

Love you.