Scribbled Papers And Stolen Kisses
Description
His cat-like eyes darkened, with venome and one kind of emotion Jongdae couldn’t understand, no matter how long he stared into the other’s eyes, trying to guess whats hidden there, like trying to unlock an unspoke code, because that was exactly what Minseok’s eyes trasmited him. Curiosity, mystery, hatred, dullness, darkenesss. It was trully terrifiying , for anyone that dared to gaze into his abyss-like eyes. They were so deep, pools of stars under the light of the dark canvas, maybe even more
Jongdae wondered what was in Minseok’s eyes, in his attitude, in his way of talking and acting, that had everyone tremble with fear. He knew he should be extremely caucious, but would it hurt if he would let his guard down a little?
He’d ask why, he would probably find himself asking that, but he only would get back a melodic laugh, and immediately after, a gun pointed or pressed onto his forehead or temple. Minseok could kill him right now, if he wanted, right?
He was like a mystery, unknown to why he acts that way, Jongdae can only wonder.
Foreword
The clicking of heels were heard through the room. Jongdae listens quietly, as a well too familiar cologne fils the white room of the fancily-decorated office room he was seated at. He doesn’t bother to look up from the folder of papers in his arms, that he was lazily studying. Contracts, mystery cases, mostly cases that involved mafias. Mobsters. Shessing blood. Jongdae didn’t like that. At all.
The clicking of heels got even louder, as he felt the person approach the desk, as he took a seat on his chiar, him being on the opposite side of the wooden table filled with all kinds of papers, and lots of pencils, that some of them dont even work properly. He couldn’t say he hated his job, but it wasn’t the most pleasing thing either. Good thing he had kind coo-workers and an over-extremely hyper boss that would go easy on everyone. He holds in a breath, as he feels the person’s eyes piercing holes into him. He takes a deep breath, as he lets the papers fall onto the wooden surface. He sees a pair of hands with beautiful, thin, slender fingers, a silver ring on the middle one, and two on his index, slolwy taking the papers, to look at them. That’s when Jongdae looks up, breath hitches for a moment as he frowns. His blood turns cold. The most infamous persona he could’ve ever known through some papers. Minseok looks up, dark eyes showing no emotion, face dull, but regains colour, and a wicked smirk as he sees Jongdae’s face. He clicks his tounge, titling this head to the side a little, eyes going down on the first paper again. “Who’s this Kim Minseok?” Tone mocking and full of venom , and something Jongdae can’t quite figure it out, echo through the room. This wasn’t fake emergency. This was real. And so was that smirk.
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