“Yeol, you free?”

“No.” Flat out refusal. Baekhyun was taken aback.

Then raised a sceptical brow, “No? Just like that, no?” Chanyeol threw on his heavy jacket, “No.” Baekhyun stepped back and clutched his heart, mock-horror painted on his face, “Who are you and what have you done with my roommate?” The giant gave him a withering look.

“No?” Baekhyun asked, shaking his petite little head.

“No.” The sound of the door shutting echoed loudly in the silent room.

“Okay,” the pixyish boy turned to his bed dejectedly, “I guess it’s just you and me now..” Sighing, he flopped onto his bed daintily.

---

 

His Audi gleamed in the dim lighting of the garage; Chanyeol ran an appreciative hand along the shimmering surface of his beloved companion, the imperceptible dents and nicks very much ingrained to the nerves in his palm. He smiled, dry lips cracking for he hadn’t done so in a while. They’d been through a lot, both the car and him. And it had one more important task to carry out for him today.

One that involved his life and death.

 

He had kept a steady track on her for the first few years he’d dabbled in E.X.O, as a mere thrill-seeker, when he himself didn’t know it was bound to be his lifestyle soon. As a result, he knew almost all her hideout and hangout spots. However, no one said that it was a piece of cake to search for her amongst them. This, considering that she was –actually – present in Seoul. For all he knew, she could be in one of her numerous estates or resorts littered conveniently all over South Korea.

Or Japan.

He was banging his head on the steering wheel when the car came to a slow stop at a deserted space. An empty court. A basketball court.

Their basketball court.

He cut his engine, reached behind the passenger seat and rummaged around. The smooth, worn lines of his Spalding greeted him; he grabbed the ball and headed out. It has been a while.

Neon green lightning strikes against worn gold sneakers, sky blue towel, soft from consistent use. He inhaled deeply, eyes closed, images flashing in his mind like a re-run of all his favourite shows. Was there a possibility she might show up here? Today?

Frankly, he didn’t know. She hadn’t come here after that night, not even once. Albeit he had made it a habit to come whenever he could. He’d forgotten, following his busy years in E.X.O, to come to this place. Forgetting also how the emptiness would engulf him once he was here, lost in remembering her low, husky laughter and annoying superior smirks. There were many reasons why one could get attracted to someone.

But, of all the things that could do so, Chanyeol liked her for the most plainest of all; she was cute.

Not in the mainstream-slightly-frantic-bordering-on-hysterical manner, she was just that, the cute little girl that no one notices or pays attention to because she prefers to have it all bottled up in her. And maybe he would’ve missed her too, were it not for her exceedingly awesome basketball skills.

That, and her damned short hair.

 He recalled the frisson of jealousy every time he saw one of his classmates gazing at her admiringly, the hot spark that made him want to plant a fist when she smiled to anyone else besides him. She was cute with his Spalding spinning effortlessly on her index finger and short hair that got tousled easily when the wind blew, but now.. He shivered, and huddled closer into his jacket.

Now she made his blood boil and nerves sizzle with electricity and anticipation. Made his concentration shatter with a one sultry gaze, brought him down with those innocent kitty she bestowed to her chapped lips when she was focused. Before, she was a cute little cherub with chubby cheeks, now she’s a golden-haired siren out for his blood.

Sometimes, even he felt afraid of how much he felt for her, the extent of his feelings defying any gravity of logic. He bounced the ball once, spun it on his middle finger and walked slowly towards the hoop. Swish! The ages-old net crinkled with the sudden intrusion and dust flew all over, ‘It’s been way too long.’ He caught the ball and broke into a slow jog, bangs pushed back by the centrifugal force and friction working on his body.

‘Tao would be proud,’ he thought with a smile. The Chinese male always badgered him to exercise, claiming that he did not deserve the god-like features he owned. He looked at himself; huge long feet that made an easy chore such as buying shoes for a formal dinner, a ten days trip down the entire Gyeonggi-do. And that too depends on the severity of the occasion. Chanyeol sighed; being tall didn’t always mean good things happened to you. He continued further inspection, trim waist and hips, solid thighs thanks to his earlier years in basketball. He could now rock almost any pants with it these.

Except for hot pants of course.

He shuddered in fear; no one could rock the hot pants. ‘But then,’ he tilted his head, thinking. Maybe Luhan could.

Just maybe though.

He looked at his hands curiously, long and swathed with nephrite toned nerves, he always folded back his sleeves whenever he did work. It was also, the only part of him which Minzy had ever directly complimented him on. Chanyeol pouted, but he liked his smile best! No one had ever praised his smile before and Baekhyun is never a reliable source of information. He threw the ball again, this time in a lay-up formation.

Then, the air shifted..

And without having to turn to reconfirm his suspicions, “Minzy,” he said confidently.

 

“Heya, Park.” She was covered in her official ensemble; a navy blue overcoat, epaulette with 3 silver clubs affixed on either side of her shoulders, sword nowhere to be seen but the small bag where she kept her daggers was clipped faithfully to the back of her pants. Chanyeol exhaled slowly, wondering if it was merely an accident or she planned to look this gorgeous every time he meant to give a piece of his mind. It was not fair, goddammit! She traipsed past him, towards the ball that lay still on the grimy cement, “Wanna play? Just like old times.” She threw the ball to him and shouldered her coat off while he tried his damnedest to keep his eyes on her face and not straying off to some other parts that seemed to beg for his attention. Distracted, he noticed too late when she slapped the ball off his lax hold, laughing as she said, “I see you haven’t changed!”

An automatic, indignant, “Hey!” made way to his throat, but he forced it down and ground his teeth, refusing to give in to her taunts. Then he shot off after her, his long legs propelling him forward faster than her.

She forgot what it was like, playing with him. The exhilaration ran like explosion in her blood, fuelling her lust and ego to win. However, he’d grown taller, and better at blocking. His already huge physique that loomed over her gave him an obvious advantage. But she played against it all her teen hood; she knew how to work his body to her benefit. Even better than him.

She stalled, bouncing the ball, watching his eyes as he watched the ball, tearing a hole with his intent stare. Bingo. She faked a left, grinning as he followed it instinctively. This, was why she never lost a single game against him. He focused too much on the ball, losing track of the player who held control over it. Twisting right, the ball slipped delicately from her fingertips and into the hoop before he had the chance to react. The ball ricocheted, the only sound amongst their united pants for air. She laughed again, ruffling his hair affectionately, “Oh how I love you Park, really,” she said, smiling brightly.

Something snapped inside him.

He pulled her up to him, so close he could feel her warm breath and thumping heart against his own. One hand came around her waist, ensnaring her in his embrace. He was tired of getting worked up and then left out to douse the flames. Alone.

“Don’t say things that you don’t mean,” he breathed against her ear, relishing when she trembled, her stiff body turning soft. She raised her night-dark eyes at him, “I don’t make a habit of saying things that I don’t mean, Park. That’s you.” She whispered viciously; knocking off his hold casually, body taut with tension. He raised an eyebrow, “Me? When?”

She stared. He raised both eyebrows, eyes widening, “No really, when?” She sighed despairingly and rolled her eyes, “Men.” Chanyeol shrugged, “Still don’t have an answer here,” he drawled, bending to pick up the abandoned Spalding.

“You said that we would be together. What happened to that now? Huh?” It was his turn to sigh wearily, “C’mon Minzy, it’s different now. Things have.. changed.”

“Changed? Is that all you have to offer? After 4 years, Park, that’s all?”

“Exactly. After 4 years you can’t expect me to be the same gangly boy, can you?” He grinned, unaware of her emotional state.

“I wouldn’t expect you to be the same but I’d expect you to be someone good!” His expression changed, “Look, Minzy, I’m not bad. Just because I’m not doing something professional, or even morally good, that doesn’t make me a bad person.” He ran his eyes away from her intense gaze to calm himself; she took it as a sign of weakness.

“You’re a thief, Park. Don’t try to sugar-coat it.”

“I’m not sugar-coating- She snatched the ball away, leaving him sputtering in her wake. Minzy dribbled the ball across the court, her elegant shooting form still every bit as powerful as he remembered and even more breathtaking than he remembered it to be. “Look, you’re not listening- at least give me a chance to explain.” He held his waist, gallant eyes holding hers riveted when she turned to him, “Please.”

She threw the ball fluently, the smoothness of her limbs betraying the disposition of her feelings. She crossed her arms, “3 minutes.”

He nodded readily, then wavered, “Couldn’t you just make it- “3 minutes.”