They always say, curiosity killed the cat. Yet so many people are still unable to resist that sweet, glutting, lethal temptation that secrets wrap themselves up in.

It is a weakness common to all humans.

*

Hyukjae woke up feeling normal as if it was just an ordinary day in his life. He rolled over, checked his phone, and then lifted the blanket to get out of bed. It was time for his morning run.

It wasn’t until after his shoelaces were tied swiftly with habit and his music put on shuffle, that he remembered all that had happened the past two days.

Two policemen at his door. Being locked up for hours. Released after “not sufficient evidence”. Coming home.

Donghae.

Hyukjae hesitated, then paused the music playing through his earphones. It was strange, how out of everything that had taken place yesterday, the artist with a painting on the back of his hand had left the deepest dent in his memory.

How is he? The man’s expression remained unchanged as he jogged consistently along the seaside, letting the salty air infuse his thoughts. The morning was as usual—the sun had begun to poke its head out of the distant horizon, curious to see if the morning runner would be there to greet him, just like any other day.

What would happen if he couldn’t get it finished in time? Hyukjae suddenly sped up, covering double the distance with each step. He flew over small stones, passing trees in a blur, and arrived back at his house before the sun could fully rise.

He swore in his mind. This wasn't right. Every day, he’d go out for a morning run along the beach, watch the sunrise, feel the temperature climb with it, and return home with warmth on his skin.

Today, all that he returned with were thoughts about the brunette with perpetually sad eyes.

Hyukjae ran a hand through his hair and entered his bedroom. He fell backwards onto the bed and gazed up at the white ceiling.

It should be normal for him to be like this. Hyukjae knew that what he had encountered was a highly rare event, one that would happen less than once in every five lifetimes. It was normal for him to be thinking about that tilted head, and those warm albeit vulnerable eyes, right?

He closed his eyes and groaned, stretching his arms and legs as much as was possible. Using energy from his abdomen, he lifted the top half of his body and proceeded to stand at the foot of the bed. He turned around, pinching the edge of the bed cover with both hands to straighten the slightly wrinkled covering.

Enough time had finally been wasted for him to have breakfast.

As Hyukjae watched the frothy bubbles rise steadily in his cup, he remembered the two paper cups he had thrown away into the overflowing bin. It had tasted bitter—too bitter for him—but it had been nothing compared to the look on Donghae’s face as he talked about his late brother.

Hyukjae gave up and took out the wrinkled piece of paper.

“Hello?” A hushed voice answered.

“Hello?” Hyukjae asked nervously. It was only after the other picked up that he realised he hadn’t planned anything to say.

“Is this Hyukjae?” Donghae asked.

“Yes… it’s me.”

A brief moment of silence.

“What happened? Are you alright?” Donghae sounded worried.

Hyukjae replied quickly. “Ah, no, everything’s fine. I just called to ask if… you wanted my help with anything. Is your artwork coming along well?” He had gotten up from his chair and started to walk around.

“Yes, thanks for asking. After you agreed to help me, I can finally concentrate on finishing this piece and not worry too much about Eri. Really, thank you so much.” His sincerity was transparent even through the phone.

“It’s nothing, I’m glad I could help.” Hyukjae hesitated. “If there’s anything else I can do, just give me a call on this number.”

“Sure, thanks again.” Donghae smiled. They hung up.

Hyukjae hadn’t realised where he had ended up in his directionless walk. His phone dropped to the side, following the movement of his now limp arms, while he stared at the door in front of him until the numbness came back.

*

“Who was that?” A dark haired male stood tall over Donghae, suspicion in both his eyes and voice.

Donghae glanced at him for a fraction of a second, before replying “…A friend.”

“A friend?” He laughed dryly, “Do you call somebody who you accused wrongly of being a murderer, then met for a few hours, ‘a friend’?” his voice was unnoticeably strained.

“If you already know, why do you still ask?” Donghae sat back down and returned to the unfinished paint on canvas.

“Donghae, you know I’m saying this for your own good. Why did you let yourself get involved with someone in a time like this? You need to focus on getting this piece done in time but if there is someone like him to distract you, it could be disastrous and you wouldn’t—” His speech was cut off.

“Siwon,” Donghae spoke gently yet firmly. “just because I’m staying here doesn’t mean you get to control my life.” He continued to swirl colours on the palette, ignoring how a stray spot of blue had begun to contaminate the originally tangerine mixture.

“I’m not trying to control your life, Donghae.” Siwon’s voice softened. “I just…”

The sitting male scoffed. “Just what? Just can’t help but get jealous because a stranger agreed to help me? Siwon, you need to stop fantasizing. I do thank you for looking after me while I went through my brother’s death,” Donghae paused, composing himself quickly, “but agreeing to stay here while I worked on the painting has nothing to do with who I choose to talk with, or get help from.” With that, he got up and headed over to the sink to wash his dirtied paintbrush.

Siwon suddenly came closer and lifted his arms, trapping Donghae between him and the wall. “Oh? So this is all black and white for you? I help you, you return the favour? Well, there’s one favour you haven’t returned yet.” He lowered his head, stopping only centimeters away from Donghae’s own

“What about me using my connections in the police department to get that man’s address for you? How are you going to return that favour?” He breathed almost threateningly onto Donghae’s lips.

To his disappointment, the shorter man remained unflustered, only looked at him with a tired expression in his eyes. “What do you want?” he spoke at last.

“I want…” Siwon’s eyes darkened. “you.”

A long time passed; neither of them said anything.

Peering into Donghae’s unreadable eyes, Siwon winced, realizing what he had just done. He took multiple steps back in a hurry.

“I’m sorry, Donghae, I didn’t mean to do that. I’m really sorry. Ugh, what have I done?” He frowned, looking left and right.

“It’s alright.” Donghae turned around and let the water run.

“Donghae, I—” Siwon tried to apologize again.

“I said, it’s alright.” He turned the tap off and walked over, sitting down again.

Siwon gazed helplessly at the dark aura surrounding the other, regretful that he had crossed a line. Before he shut the door behind him, he let his eyes fall one last time on the brunette’s back— well built yet somehow breakable.

*