He was so confused, his vision blackened and his body numb; it wasn’t even there. Spinning in useless circles, he felt the panic creep up his chest and sink its claws into his throat, constricting his air. There was nothing anywhere, there was no ground, no ceiling, no walls, nothing. The air felt dead and cold, freezing his skin. Looking down at his body, he could barely even see his hands, his feet had been swallowed by the darkness. Looking back up, he spun so fast, turning his head so sharply, that he swore he was giving himself whiplash. He didn’t know where he was or how he had gotten there, but he already knew that he didn’t want to be here; it felt dangerous. Zitao’s morid mind was unable to help itself, it prodded and pinched at his heart, causing it to jumpstart with untamed panic. ‘I’m so scared, I want out!’

There was a voice, too faint and too far to make out words or the owner of the voice, but it was there. Feeling as though he may not be alone, Zitao’s mind gave him small hope. But as he began running with his nonexistent feet, he felt as though he were going nowhere in his attempts to get closer to the voice. He was running in place, as if the darkness had stolen his mobility. It kept calling out to him, desperate and alone, and yet, he couldn’t reach it. His lungs had already begun to hurt from running, his throat feeling as though it were closing as his body gave up. Everything was happening too fast, too fast for him to handle, and yet? Nothing was happening at all.

A booming sound reverberated off of the unseen walls of darkness, seeming to echo everywhere, shattering the very wavelengths that they traveled on. He could not place the sound, but it was loud and overwhelming, piercing his skull with no mercy. He had to find the voice, he had to find that person. He had to get out.

“Where are you?” He screamed, his lungs only allowing him that action as his shoulders heaved under the weight of the darkness. It felt like everything was creeping in on him, walls he could not see were crushing his body. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t go on.

It was only when he had given up, his feet falling dead once more, that the owner of the voice appeared; their entire body was clear. Curled up in a fetal position, their brown hair was slick with sweat as it splayed out on the ground, their skin almost glowing it was so pale. Their shoulders shook, from fear or from the obvious sounds of sobs and wailing, Zitao would never know. The voice sounded heartbroken, defeated; it was dead. The clothes were familiar, though he could not place it, his mind focusing on reaching out to the person. He wanted to see their face, he wanted to roll them over and tell them that it would be alright.

But he didn’t have to touch the body, it rolled over on its own, eyes stained red with tears and face slick with two things. Sweat and blood; a bullet hole flared in their forehead, an unrealistic amount of smoke filtering into the darkness. it felt like it was staring Zitao down, glaring and obvious. But it wasn’t the tears, the blood, or even the bullet hole that caught his attention, it was his face. ‘That’s me.’ Zitao’s mind quivered with confusion as he was staring himself down, watching the blood stream down his forehead. He stood staring down at himself, watching as the other him quivered and wailed. He began to sweat.

“He’s going to kill you.” The other Zitao sobbed with a trembling whisper, rolling over to return to his fetal position; his wails carried throughout the darkness. Zitao turned to run, he wanted as far from the other as he could get. He was so scared. But as he turned, his eyes met the figure of Sehun in the distance, bright and as glorious as Zitao had always seen him to be. He was his light, he was his everything; he could always trust the man.

“Sehun!” He yelled, his lungs free from the viper grip of panic, running to the man as fast as his darkness engulfed legs would carry him. He felt as though he had found his safety, his sanctuary in a sea of darkness and nightmares. But as he reached his lover, he disappeared, winking out of existence. He was gone in a blink, Zitao’s panic returning once more. Standing in the spot where his lover once stood, he swiped at the darkness, digging and wailing. He had to be here, he had to be.

When his hands met nothing but cold, wet, darkness, he straightened himself out. Turning, he began his cycle of spinning, desperate to find Sehun. If he was trapped here too, he had to find him; logic was not a factor to him.

The man appeared closer this time, running towards Zitao as if he felt the same as him. Running to meet him, Zitao had his precious breath slightly knocked out of him when Sehun’s shoulder collided with his own. It was shocking, not that Sehun had shoved him, but the amount of anger behind the motion. It was powerful and terrifying, it felt almost as if it seared his skin purely through untamed anger.

Turning now, not with desperation but with shock and confusion, he was met by the sight of Sehun once more, slamming into his shoulder again; harder. Stumbling, he had barely regained his footing before he was hit from behind, the blonde hair of his lover winking out of existence again. Zitao’s heart clenched with panic once more, his breathing stuttering with panic and desperation.

“Sehun, stop!” He wailed, his body now constantly bombarded and abused by Sehun’s shoving and ramming; his ribcage already felt bruised. He was knocked down to his knees, his back constantly feeling as though it was being wailed on by Sehun’s fists and elbows. He did not know for how long he kneeled there, his arms flung over his neck and head as he sobbed- begging for Sehun to end this torment. But eventually, it stopped, the world going dark once more, Sehun was no longer there.

Standing quickly, he was determined that had not been his lover, the man that he could always trust and rely on. He was going to find the man he truly loved, his body already beginning another cycle of spinning.The sobs that escaped his chest were almost unbearable, his breathing already limited by his panic as his feet slowly turned. He could barely move, his body battered and bruised. But his mind had little to no time to wonder about his breathing or his battered body, his face coming to a stop a few mere inches away from a gun.

His eyes traveled down the barrel of the gun, traveling up the pale hand and arm to find the face of his lover; it was cold and disgusted. Another wail escaped Zitao through a sob, his shoulders shaking as his hands rose in a surrendering position.

“Sehun, please.” He sobbed, the salty taste of tears filtering into the corners of his mouth; it was disgusting. It appeared as though Sehun felt the same way, his lips twisting further into a look of disgust and hatred.

“I never loved you.” The words hurt worse than the sound of the gunshot following them, or the bullet piercing his forehead. His heart was in more pain than his mind, it had stopped beating, his body falling to meet the darkness. The light from Sehun had winked away yet again, leaving him alone with his pain. Curling up into a fetal position, he wailed, his sobs shaking his entire body. In the distance, he could hear a faint voice, calling out to him.

“Where are you?” It screamed.

His breath had returned, startling and seeming just as confused as he was. His body sat upright, warm and embraced by the blankets of his bed. Without much thought, Zitao quickly stumbled his way out of bed, almost landing headfirst on the cold hardwood as his feet remained tangled in the sheets. Panting a little, he stood in the middle of the room, his back slightly hunched from where he had paused, his eyes wide. Quickly turning to find the face of Sehun, he saw the serenity and warmth on his face, versus the cold and disgusted darkness of his pale skin.

He was happy to realize this to be a dream, but he could not yet let out a breath of relief, realizing just how much he had lost faith in the man. It was all the secrets, the sneaking around, the avoiding words. Even something as simple as his job was kept a secret from Zitao, his eyes unable to remain on the man’s face for another moment. He sighed, making his rounds around the house. Down the hallway he traveled, past the bathroom and past the closet.

He first started with his little flower’s room, opening the door as gently and quietly as he could; she was at peace with her sleep. Shutting the door with just as much ease as he had opened it, Zitao paused in his travels back to the room. He bit his lip guiltily, even the thought of what he wanted to do set his conscience into a state of unease. He stood at the door of his bedroom, but he also stood at the base of the staircase, stairs that just so happened to lead to Sehun’s study.

They were a small set of stairs, one could barely even call them stairs. They were more or less the first of many sets of stairs, four steps per set. They all lead up in a spiral, a door at each pause of sets. Sehun’s study was the first and most important of all doors. He stared at it with a mixture of guilt and remorse, feelings of depression creeping upon him at the thought of what he had been reduced to. Sneaking around behind his lover’s back, even just contemplating it felt wrong, but he had no choice.

Sneaking his way up the cold and surprisingly quiet wooden stairs, his warm fingers met the cold surface of the golden knob; he looked back once more at the door of his room. But it was too late to turn back, his wrist already twisting the door open. There was some form of exhilaration in sneaking around, some form of excitement at the thought of doing something ‘bad’. Before he even knew it, his guilt turned to excitement and Zitao was creeping around. His motions were exaggerated and goofy, humming along to whatever spy theme song had popped up in his mind.

Continuing to hum his own little theme song, he made it a point to look around before awkwardly, though surprisingly quietly, tumbling over as he made an attempt at some sort of roll towards the desk. Falling just short, he crawled the rest of the way to the desk, popping his head over the edge of it as he mumbled his theme song louder. Scanning the room with his eyes, his shoulders and head had begun to bob in tune, finding his way into Sehun’s seat as he began to go through drawers.

It was all boring or useless stuff, empty note sheets and books, various files for taxes, the house, and even warranties for the refrigerator and dishwasher. Rolling his eyes, Zitao grumbled, continuing to paw through the various drawers.

“We need all of these.” Zitao mimicked Sehun’s often spoken words with a sassy tone, the man kept any and all paperwork that ever entered the house. Zitao thought he might even be on the brink of being a hoarder, though, a much neater and more organized one. He was a hoarder of paper, none the less.

“You don’t know when these will come in handy.” He continued to mimic, his head shaking back and forth as he spoke, purely making fun of the man now as he held up receipts for a diner they frequented. Rolling his eyes, he resisted the urge to throw them away and put them back into their appointed folder, his fingers now finding the top to his laptop. Making a soft and excited ‘ooo’ sound, he twiddled his fingers and opened it with a mischievous snicker. Returning to his theme song once more, he powered the laptop on and nearly fell back in the chair; he was blinded by the light produced from the screen. He had grown used to the cover of darkness, his eyes feeling as though they were one fire as he squinted at the too bright screen.

Making it as far as the lockscreen, he huffed and rested his chin on his hand, glaring at the screen. His free hand casually tapped the keyboard as his theme song died down once again. He wasn’t a very good spy, or a spy at all for that matter.

He tried anything that he could think of, Sehun’s birthday, his birthday, the day they adopted their little girl, anything. But it all failed, Zitao flopping back into the rolling chair with a groan. ‘Defeated by technology, stupid.’ He thought bitterly, his fun of snooping having been ruined by the lack of information found. Even the phone that sat charging on the edge of his desk was locked, Zitao having tried many passcodes before he was eventually blocked from attempting any more passcodes.

Making a small and annoyed clucking sound with his tongue, he returned to Sehun’s drawers once more. He was hopeful that he could find the passwords somewhere buried within the endless depths of papers, hopefully in the drawers and not the large stacks of boxes behind him. He began humming his theme song again, his foot tapping as he hummed.

“Dum, dun da daaah, Dum dun da… Oh .” His theme song cut short when the lights suddenly lit up the room, his crimes were obvious. The door had been left wide open, drawers all pulled out at different lengths, the laptop still open while Sehun’s phone remained locked in two different ways. Making a grimace similar to a little kid that had been caught with his hand in the cookie chair, he sat up to meet the eyes of Sehun.

“You don’t make a very good spy.” He spoke quietly and without much emotion, his arms crossed as he leaned in the doorway. Sinking a little in Sehun’s chair, Zitao sighed and began closing all the drawers he had opened.

“Yeah, well, I haven’t had much training.” He said rather sarcastically, his mood having been killed at being caught, he was a bad spy. Sighing yet again, he slammed the finally drawer shut and powered off Sehun’s laptop; he was busted and he hadn’t even learned anything.

“You shouldn’t have to have any training because you aren’t a spy.” Sehun pointed out the obvious, Zitao sending him a rather sassy and sarcastic look.

“How do you know? Maybe I’m hiding some from you just as you’re hiding something from me, maybe I am training to be a spy.” Zitao barked, narrowing his eyes as a pen found his way into his hand; he began twisting it between his fingers as he watched Sehun approach the desk. His face was blank until he met Zitao’s, his hands slowly laying on the desk as he let out a chuckle. His eyes drifted down to where he stood, though Zitao did not know what was so funny.

“Maybe you are,” he admitted, shrugging as he looked back up at him, “but I wouldn’t dare go through your things to figure it out.” He added, his chuckle dissolving into nothing once more.

“Just tell me what you do, why does it have to be such a secret?” Zitao stood up from the chair, listening to it as it rolled back and hit the boxes behind him; he was sure Sehun did not appreciate that. “What are you, a spy?” Zitao was ready to fire off a million questions, Sehun obviously preparing himself for them as well. They both knew the game.

“No.” His answer was quick and simple, tilting his head as he waited for the next question.

“Secret agent?” Zitao rose an eyebrow.

“Nope.” Letting out a soft ‘tch’ sound, Zitao leaned forward, narrowing his eyes as he probbed deeper.

“Witness protection stuff?” He was running out of questions to ask him, but he didn’t want his lover to know this.

“Of course not.” Sehun scoffed, a small smile pulling at the corners of his lips; he acted as if it were beyond the realm of possibility. Zitao made a face at him and attacked with his next question.

“Mafia?”

“Tao, this is getting silly, you know that I would not keep something from you if it meant you would be in harm.” Sehun finally grew tired of Zitao’s games, pushing himself off of the desk as he crossed his arms, his eyes trained on Zitao. It was obvious that he was hiding something. “I would never lie to you, you need to trust me.”

“And I need you to tell me the truth.” Zitao sighed, making his way around the desk to stand in front of Sehun, who had turned to meet him.  

“I will tell you, if it comes down to it. But my job is very dangerous, Tao.” Sehun paused, his eyes serious and pleading. “If I tell you, if I let you know, it could bring harm to both you and our daughter. I’ve been keeping you in the dark simply because I trust you enough to be able to handle it. Do you really want me to risk everything because you don’t trust me? This is a two way street.” Zitao felt a little childish, desperately wanting the answer but not wanting harm to come to his family. Contemplating his answer, he finally sighed and shook his head.

“Fine, I’ll trust you. But if you really are a spy, can I come up with your theme song? I’m good at that.” He asked jokingly with a small smile, hoping for one in return as he rose his eyebrows. Sehun was right, Zitao’s guilt already sinking its claws into his throat. He hadn’t trusted Sehun, even though he had trusted Zitao.

“Sure.” Sehun chuckled, giving Zitao that one smile that he wanted. He could trust the man, but it would take some time.

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DUM DUM DA DAAAAAH. -insert spy music here- forgive me. I can’t help it. I gotta start adding in some more humor. I generally write humor fairly well but my transitions here . xD Oops. Oh gosh.

Anyways, hope you enjoyed the chapter, let me know what you think/any input you have and I hope you’re as excited for the next chapter as I am! I have so many plans, so much build up. c:<

I already have the outlines ready for the next couple, so they’ll be up soon enough!

Edit*: GRR. I keep messing up the numbers for the chapters, forgive me. This is 3rd in the TaoHun plotline.

~SnobbyCoffeeAsian