three

Donghae grudgingly shuts the door of the house close behind him as he stomps inside, feeling a little as if he is heading straight into his very own pit of hell. Which, all things considered, definitely doesn’t seem like a very tempting idea. Sighing loudly, he slows down to a pause in the middle of the hallway and wonders hard if it might not be a better idea to simply go home, after all. Really, it shouldn’t be that hard to find another nice job like this one, right? He would only need – what, one or two months, at most? That’s easily done, right?

Right?!

Maybe he should just give up, after all. That man clearly isn’t worth all the trouble.

Oh, you just shut up, brain, he immediately scolds himself. As much as quitting sounds tantalizing – very tantalizing –, he definitely isn’t about to waste all the hard efforts he put into building himself a successful career only because of an obnoxious middle-aged . Or something – he doesn’t really look like he’s more than ten years older than him, to be honest.

Burning with a renewed determination, Donghae proudly straightens up and nods to himself in a last attempt of self-encouragement. He sends a last wary look around his quiet surroundings (the house is rather pretty, he’ll have to admit), fingers twitching by his sides, then finally heads to the bright kitchen at the other end of the hallway. As soon as he reaches it, his eyes are quick to look for the nearest exit they can find, just in case, which unfortunately happens to be an open window. He supposes it wouldn’t look very dignified if he decided to jump through it.

Donghae is a very dignified kind of man, after all.

He sends one of his hardest glare in the older man’s direction, firm in blaming him for all of his miseries – and maybe even for the bad weather, if he can –, who swiftly ignores him and continues to glare at the envelope he is still clenching between his hands.

Long minutes go by like this, tense and silent, until the brunette starts to feel a bit bored and hungry.

“Seriously, will you stop that?” he finally sighs while his voice is shadowed with a heavy hint of exasperation. He guesses he isn’t supposed to be talking so rudely to a potential author of his publishing company – and to an older man, at that –, but he really doesn’t feel like being polite with him at all. “You look completely mad. Though I suppose it doesn’t really change from the usual, eh?”

“Shut the up, you rude ,” the other curtly snaps at him, then flings the manuscript onto the kitchen table. He pauses and frowns, then narrows his eyes at him as though it’s the very first time he sees him. “What the are you even doing in my house, anyways? You know I could sue you for trespassing, right?”

This man is completely crazy, Donghae firmly decides. Barking mad, I tell you. Scoffing in bewilderment, he does his best to ignore his pounding headache and subtly tries to shuffle farther away from him.

Heavens know what might happen to him in here.

“You let your door open, you idiot,” he slowly grits between his teeth. “Plus, I’m tired and cold, and you owe me one. Or maybe ten. I stopped counting after the fourth mail I sent you.”

“I do not owe you anything at all!” the author affrontingly huffs at him, folding his arms on his chest. “I have been tricked, ok? And if you had even an ounce of human compassion somewhere, which I highly doubt, you’d off out of my house and go bother someone else. Go play in a sandbox or something, for heaven’s sake.”

What the actual f –

Donghae pinches hard on the bridge of his nose and wills himself to calm down, barely stopping himself from slamming the nearest thing he can grab right in the middle of his annoying face. It really wouldn’t do well on his curriculum vitae if he murdered someone so young. Or at all, really.

“Yes, well, you happen to be my first project, and I need you to sign this author contract so I can actually keep my job. You know, that very odd thing people need so they can keep a roof atop their head and survive?”

Eunhyuk – what a stupid nickname, really – snorts and flops down onto a chair, granting him a bored look. “Well, that’s your problem, isn’t it? And I’ve got my own. I already told you I’m not the one who sent you that manuscript, anyways.”

“But you are the one who wrote it, right?” Donghae expectantly raises his eyebrows at him. “Which brings us back to the same point.”

“I really don’t see how that’s relevant at all.”

Breathing out heavily – how can someone be so annoying? –, the brunette finally steps further inside and takes a seat in front of him despite not being invited to do so. Single-lidded eyes suspiciously stare at him as he painfully rubs his aching temples, as if they’re expecting him to explode and stain all his precious walls.

“Look, I can make you rich, ok? Richer than you already are. The publishing house I work for is a famous one, you know? Almost all the authors we’ve signed a decent contract with have been recognized for their works. And… well, that could happen to you, too. You have some… talent, judging by that manuscript, don’t you?” he says as he vaguely waves at the envelope. “