Truth is, since that day at Yoochun’s house Yunho has been restless. 

His life had been amazingly easy until that moment and as far as he could recall, nothing ever fazed him; his relationships were the no strings attached kind of ones and it was something he had always clarified before having with his partners. There had been some clingy people, but he handled everything smoothly every single time anyone had tried to cross the boundaries they had previously agreed on. 

This said, he had his fair share of attractive people beneath him, he couldn’t deny it; he had always been picky in his choices, his standards incredibly high. But he had never seen any of the people he slept with as more than a means to satisfy his needs and relieve stress.

People were a hassle to deal with, especially when there was some kind of unwanted sentimental involvement he wasn’t even able to feel in the first place. 

He was well known for being heartless, and by now he kind of took pride in it. 

Feelings were useless; love was something that weighs you down and limits your capability. His career was everything he needed.

Or so he thought. 

As he was standing outside of Yoochun’s house after his friend had unceremoniously and not-so-subtly kicked him out, he was in a daze. Because what the had just happened? 

His feet started to move almost automatically towards his SUV and, after he closed the door of his house behind him not even 15 minutes later, he realized he couldn’t even remember how he had gotten there in the first place; which was extremely out of character for him, who always had everything under control. 

He took a long, cold shower. His body felt uncharacteristically hot and he was shocked when he looked down and saw that he was hard. He cursed and punched the wet wall in frustration. Did he really need to get laid that badly? It hadn’t even been that long since the last time. 

Not only had he never gotten an at first sight before, but he just couldn’t stop thinking about the boy. He couldn’t unsee smooth, porcelain legs and chapped, rosy lips he wanted nothing more but to claim. And neither those dazzling eyes flooded with tears he was inexplicably the cause of. He had never seen anyone lookin that gorgeous while crying and he probably was a bit twisted for thinking that he kinda wished he could see him like that again, even if at the same time the thought made his heart swell. Also, what was the deal with his eyes? Was he wearing contacts? 

But the thing that had stirred him up the most wasn’t a physical trait, no. 

It was his voice. 

And being the CEO of an entertainment company, thank god, he sure as hell had never gotten hard by hearing anyone’s voice. 

Every sort of emotion was running through his body at that moment. But he wasn’t supposed to feel any emotion of that sort to begin with and he had no idea about how to deal with them. So he decided he wasn’t going to be controlled by these strange reactions his body was having: he was Jung Yunho, and he was going to ignore the unpleasant curling of his stomach he felt when Yoochun had called the boy so affectionately, because he definitely wasn’t jealous. He didn’t even know what the word meant. 

Eventually he managed to calm down and washed his freezing body with hot water before grabbing two towels and getting out of the shower, wrapping one of them around his hips and using the other one to messily dry his hair. He stood in front of the fogged mirror and swiped his hand over it; he could now see his own face and chest, and he caressed his hair back in frustration. 

His eyes laid on the necklace around his neck and his hand closed around the pendant, his touch relaxing as to quench the storm inside of him. Now that he thought about it, he couldn’t even remember for how long he had been wearing it, probably since forever. He had never taken it off, as if it was actually part of his body. 

He had once asked his parents about it, but they couldn’t remember who had given it to him. Wearing it gave him a comfortable, soothing feeling so he had never even thought about taking it off. 

He recalled that one time one of his partners was some kind of archeologist and had shown a somehow dark interest towards it, saying that she would have wanted to analyze it properly and if he could lend it to her. When she touched it, a look of surprise appeared on her face.

“How is this possible? The material seems like what they call a mermaid’s tears but at the same time it’s transparent and levigated.” She pondered, her voice was just a whisper, as if she was talking to herself; some kind of hunger in her eyes that he couldn’t understand. 

Yunho had kindly but firmly grabbed her wrist so that she let go of the pendant and refused the offer; he was ticked off by the fact that she had been too touchy and the thought of giving her something that precious to him didn’t seem right. Needless to say, the woman had been really disappointed and the night had inevitably come to an end earlier than expected. 

At that very moment in his luxurious bathroom and with the towel still wrapped around his hips, the CEO took his phone and googled “mermaid’s tears” because he realized he had actually never bothered looking into it and even if what he had just recalled happened months earlier, he was suddenly feeling strangely curious. 

He clicked on the first result and waited for the page to load. Apparently folklore had it that mermaids yearn for company below the water and lure men to join them for eternity. There was a story about a mermaid that loved the captain of a ship dearly and one day, amidst a storm, he fell in the water. Instead of calling him to her as she should though, the mermaid had calmed the sea to save him. The price for her kind gesture was high: since merpeople were forbidden to interfere in human affairs even though they had the power to, as a punishment the mermaid was banned to the bottom of the ocean forever, and her tears are said to come to us as beautiful pieces of glass, in stunning, crystallized colors. 

Yunho tentatively touched the pendant, trying to analyze it somehow. The lace of the necklace was made of leather and the pendant was what seemed some kind of black shell framed inside the glass. The fact was that shells were supposed to be hard, while this seemed actually soft, like some kind of scale. The edges of the glass were sealed by what looked like amber and on top of the scale was a small, white pearl. 

As far as he remembered the pendant had always been cold, but now he could feel it warm against the palm of his hand and he frowned as he wondered if it was because of the steam inside the bathroom. 

Yunho had never gone to the beach, so he didn’t know how the glasses were supposed to feel at the touch, but opening another tab on his phone’s browser he read that they were never shiny and transparent, and that they became like that because of the salt water leaching into the glass and their exposure to sunlight. He realized that the information was completely contrasting with the characteristics of the object around his neck, and it was probably because of that reason that the woman had been curious about the necklace. 

With an unsettling feeling at the pit of his stomach, Yunho went to his bedroom and let himself fall on the bed. Unable to stop thinking about the boy, he decided to send a message to Yoochun to remind him that he was supposed to let him know his decision as soon as possible. He then unceremoniously shoved his phone at the furthest side of his bed and covered his eyes with his arm, a deep sigh leaving his throat. He was startled into a sitting position as the pendant became suddenly scorching hot against his chest. 

“What the actual !” He cursed as, for the first time since he could remember, he unclasped the necklace from his neck. He tapped on his chest and checked if there were any burning signs, but nothing. He turned the necklace on his hand, temperature normal once again, and he closely admired its details and the object inside the glass. He really wanted to touch it and see if it was as soft as it seemed. 

He was drawn to it. 

Overwhelmed by the events of that night like never before, he felt suddenly sleepy and his eyes closed before he could find strength in his tired limbs to turn off the light of his abat-jour on the nightstand, and more importantly to put the necklace back in its place.

That night, for the first time in his whole life, he dreamt. 

-------

“I’m sorry I couldn’t save you…”

Yunho woke up with a loud, freeing gasp. His head was pounding and every cell in his body was screaming for oxygen. A violent cough shook his whole body and his lungs were burning; he was sweating and his heart was threatening to jump out of his chest. 

As far as he could remember he had never dreamt before, and if dreams were like the one he just had, then he ing hoped this was the first and last time. 

He couldn’t remember much, just flashes of it: a gunshot going through his body, sad, familiar eyes and a sweet, otherworldly voice singing a song he had never heard before but had a powerful, nostalgic feeling. 

And then, he was drowning. 

It had felt so real that after he calmed down and realized he wasn’t actually drowning in the middle of the sea but he was lying on his bed, he checked if he had really been shot. His eyes were wet, and his heart was still racing. 

He checked his watch and saw that it was 4am. Next to him, there was the necklace. With trembling hands, he securely clasped it around his neck and since there was no way he was going to fall asleep again, he decided to get up and get ready. He took off his damped t-shirt and threw himself under the shower once again, water hot to chase away the unpleasant chills and humidity he could feel enveloping his bones. 

After 30 minutes he was in the garage in front of his Honda motorbike, putting his leather gloves and the black helmet on before hopping on it. 

Seoul was still sleeping as he sped through the dark streets, wind comfortably hitting his covered body. 

He drove right by the Han River, and even if he hadn’t actually ever stopped admiring it, he found himself amazed at the sight of the city at night. It was sparkling with thousands of small, different lights; the bridges in succession all had different colors, which often reflected the colors of the subway lines. And standing tall on the other side of the river, was the Namsan Tower. 

He kept going forward and, before he knew it, he realized he was heading towards the beach. He didn’t know why, but it was as if something was leading him there and for once he didn’t question it. He couldn’t help but to admit that ever since the previous evening, a lot of things had been slipping out of his control. 

He was confused, almost lost. But he let himself be led nevertheless, because he needed a place where he could think and try to get himself together. He had to see everything from another perspective, one that he probably had never even considered before. 
 

The motorbike stopped in front of the beach right in time for the sunrise. He took the helmet off and hopped off, leaving his shoes next to it as he walked straight to the sea and the sky, sand cold against his feet, almost hypnotized by the sight in front of him. 

He sat on the sand, unconcerned by the fact that later he would have to face the hassle of shaking it off his clothes. The wind was stronger there close