“I think Luda can really pull off a cold-blooded killer,” Sally whispers. Sorn shakes her head.

“No, I think Changkyun’s more likely. Look at him, he’s so weird.”

“Mingyu never talks,” Roa suggests. “Or it can be Binnie, she’s so cute it’s overwhelming.”

Jinhwan can’t help but let out a bitter laugh. Everyone in class is making wild guesses as to who the murderer is, almost as if the thought of their dead classmates isn’t horrifying.

“Who do you think it is, Jinhwan?” Jennie asks, propping her feet up on the desk. Professor Shin shoots her a look, and she drops her legs down. “You laughed, so you must have someone in mind.”

Jinhwan shakes his head, but before he can say anything, Officer Sehun Oh appears next to them. “Yeah, Jinhwan,” he exclaims, voice bright with excitement, “tell us!”

Is he an actual kid? Before long, Officer Namjoon Kim join them. “Tell us!” he urges, a light sparkling in his eyes. Jinhwan has never loved Captain Sunggyu Kim more when he drags the two rookie police officers away.

“It’s best if you kids don’t start spreading rumors,” he throws over his shoulder as he walks away. “It’s dangerous, at a time like this.”

They have another test that day. Jinhwan glances around; everyone seems to be struggling, and honestly, he doesn’t blame them. The police officers are walking around, peering over random shoulders. The tension in the air is so thick that Jinhwan could cut it with a butter knife. From the corner of his eye, he sees Captain Kim making his way towards him. Jinhwan feels a drop of sweat trickle down his face.

Captain Kim’s breathing sounds like an airplane engine. Jinhwan’s mind blanks out. Even though he does know most of the answers, he can’t answer them all or else it would be suspicious, and he especially can’t do it when a police officer is standing behind him.

Later, when the scores come out, everyone fails. Professor Shin slams the tests down on the podium. “We’re moving this class online.”

At least there’s no more pressure to do poorly. Jinhwan feels his lungs uncrumpling as he sits down on the couch, opening the video lecture. Hwanhee joins him, leaning against his shoulder, and Jinhwan can’t help but smile.

He loves him, he thinks, heart pounding. Really, really loves him. Hesitatingly, he brings up an arm to wrap around Hwanhee’s waist. The boy starts, stiffening for a brief moment, and then melts into his touch, letting out a shaky breath. The room seems to grow hot, and Jinhwan can no longer focus on the lecture.

“You’re so sweet,” he whispers in a haze. He doesn’t know what to say or why he just said what he did, but Hwanhee turns his face to him, lips parted, and Jinhwan forgets everything. The softness of his lips, the heat of his skin, the desperation of the whines in the back of his throat - Jinhwan is in love with him, with every single detail, every single little thing.

The night runs slow, ending with pale light breaking softly over the horizon. Jinhwan stays awake, brushing Hwanhee’s hair off his head, watching the gentle rise-and-fall of his chest. He looks even younger in sleep, less worried, more happy. He needs it, the safety of relaxation, especially after what’s been happening, especially after what they’ve done.

Jinhwan hates to lie to him, but the boy is much too innocent for the darkness of the truth. If he can protect him from at least that and guarantee him a life free of worries, then maybe - just maybe - it can make up for his sins. Not all of them, but…

He just loves him, wants to protect him. It reminds him of Gyuri and Jungkook, of Jungkook’s last plea on that fateful day. Promise me we’ll never do anything like that again. Okay, babe. This is the first, last, and only time. I promise. The words echo in his heart, and Jinhwan feels like he understands Gyuri a little bit better. She doesn’t want to do it either, possibly even less than Jinhwan himself, but she has to, to protect her boyfriend. She can’t let him find out about the ugliness of the consequences, and even if that means tainting herself, she’ll do it without hesitation.

And in the end, it’s all just to protect the person she cares about. Just like Jinhwan. And if that can’t justify their actions, what can?

***

Hwanhee leans again Jinhwan’s shoulder with a small sigh. “You…” He pauses, and Jinhwan waits. “I trust you, Jinhwan.”

When Jinhwan pins him to the couch, lips against his, Hwanhee tries to forget what he saw that night. The heat of Jinhwan’s hands against his thighs, the dizzying feeling of his body against his, the way his breaths come quick and shallow - it makes him want to lose control.

He trusts him, trusts him with his life, trusts him enough to bare everything, to show him the  vulnerable depths of his personality. He knows what Jinhwan’s done, everything he is that Hwanhee is not, and it’s terrible, absolutely horrible, but he still trusts him.

Or… does he?

When Hwanhee wakes up the next morning, Jinhwan is gone, probably to class, and there’s a plate of fried eggs on the dinner table, still warm from the iron pan on the stove.

H,

Sorry, had class. Eat up and don’t worry so much, okay?

J

Unwittingly, a smile blossoms on Hwanhee’s face. He’s so sweet, so careful and detailed, even though he tries not to show it. But the images flash back into his mind, the two dark figures silhouetted against the faint light of the science building, standing over a motionless body, dragging it behind two large trash cans. Hwanhee’s smile drops, and the note flutters to the ground.

How could he have done this? This isn’t the Jinhwan he knows. The Jinhwan he knows is kind, gentle, and tries his best to comfort him even if he doesn’t know how. Jinhwan isn’t evil, he’s not a criminal. He’s not even a bad person.

But is he? He killed Jungeun, killed Yuqi and Myungeun, and by association, he killed Jungwoo too. A shiver goes down Hwanhee’s spine at the mere thought of Jungwoo, swinging by the rope around his neck on the ceiling of their dorm room.

No. Impossible. Jinhwan couldn’t have done it.

“Now she can’t betray us anymore.” But that was clearly Jinhwan’s voice. Hwanhee grips his hair, tearing at it like the conflict tears at his heart. He knows it was Jinhwan who killed them, so why does he keep lying to himself?

Because he loves him. He loves Jinhwan, and he doesn’t want to lose him. He doesn’t want to betray the man he loves, even if he did commit a terrible crime.

He killed three people. But… he didn’t want to. Did he? He did. No, he didn’t. You know he did.

He knows. Hwanhee knows that Jinhwan killed his friends. Tears fill his eyes, and it disgusts him. It disgusts him that, even now, even though he clearly should, he still doesn’t want to report him. He doesn’t want to betray him, even though he’s a murderer, because Jinhwan isn’t that kind of person. Hwanhee knows. He knows that Jinhwan didn’t kill them because he wanted them to die and that he probably had a very good reason to do it, but that doesn’t change the fact that he still killed them.

Hwanhee trusts Jinhwan. He loves him, but he can’t let him fall deeper into his sin.

***

Breaking: eyewitness accounts of ‘Bonnie and Clyde’ murderers at Jungeun Kim’s scene of death

“This is not good.” Gyuri crumples the newspaper up, clearly straining to keep her anger under control. “We made sure there was no one around. No one goes out past one o’clock, not on this campus.”

Jinhwan can only shake his head. Despair envelopes his heart like the shadows twisting in his nightmares. “Who knows, at this point?” He’s tired, tired of lying, tired of running away from himself. He’s tired of hiding, just wants everything to be over with already.

“We need to get rid of them,” Gyuri hisses, stuffing the paper into her bag. “I’ll ask around, see if you can find out anything.”

He doesn’t even have to try. At precisely five o’clock in the afternoon, Jinhwan arrives home to find Hwanhee sitting on the couch, staring blankly at the wall.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, as gently as he can. Slowly, tears well in Hwanhee’s eyes, and he begins to cry. “Oh, baby, please…” He moves forward, but Hwanhee retreats into the cushions of the couch, as if afraid of him.

“Why were you out so late the night Myungeun died?” He sounds broken, small and tiny, and the force of his words hits Jinhwan like a punch to the chest. “Jinhwan, why can’t you tell me?”

“T-tell you what?” It’s no use feigning innocence. Hwanhee knows, and that’s just the truth of it. “I’m not keeping anything from you.”

Hwanhee stands up, breath stuttering, hands balled at his sides. “I saw you, I saw you there.” His eyes are red, puffy, accusing, and Jinhwan lowers his head. “I know you killed Jungeun.”

“Impossible.” A forced scoff tears itself from Jinhwan’s throat. He puts his bag down on the floor, just to give his hands something to do. “I was at the library, I told you.”

The way he shakes his head like he’s disappointed, the way he bites his lip to keep from crying out loud, the way he looks at him like he’s lost the entire world. Jinhwan hates it. He hates it, and he hates how he’s still making excuses, even when everything is already in the clear.

“I still trust you, Jinhwan.” His voice is soft, desperate, and Jinhwan stand it. He bolts, tearing the door open and running. He’s running again, running from the truth and the boy he loves, leaving behind everything that’s ever mattered to him, but he can’t help it, he can’t stand it, can’t bear to see the disappointment in Hwanhee’s eyes.

He’s not angry, he’s not even surprised. He’s just disappointed, and that, somehow, makes the entire situation even worse.

He knows, he knows, heknowsheknowsheknowsheingknows--

By the time he finds Gyuri in the library, he’s almost sobbing. He’s startled her, he knows, but she needs to know, needs to know now before anything else happens.

“This… this won’t do.” The look of pity in her eyes makes him want to cry even more. “We have to get rid of everyone from that night.”

“The only people left are… Jungkook, Hwanhee, and us.” Have we already come so far? Are we already past the point of no return? Gyuri’s eyes are wide as well, seemingly thinking the same thing.

“You can’t touch Jungkook.” Her voice is hard. “He’s innocent, I can attest to that.” Jinhwan drops to his knees. She hadn’t meant to accuse him, he knows, but the implications, her tone, it just…

It makes him feel like a failure, that he couldn’t even protect the boy he loves.

“I’m sorry, Jinhwan.” He hates it, hates the pity and softness in her voice, hates that he knows what he has to do and hates that he even has to do it, wants to do it, is going to do it. Because he doesn’t have to. He doesn’t have to. He can turn himself in, get arrested for his crimes, and spend the rest of his life in jail, but he doesn’t want to. He wants to live out his life with Hwanhee, get married, buy a house, maybe have some kids.

But everything is ruined now.

***

It ing hurts. It ing hurts to slip the poison into the food, but Jinhwan grits his teeth and tamps down the heartbreaking snap of his heartstrings and does it anyway.

Hwanhee hasn’t moved from his position on the couch, curled up between the arm and the back, since he returned half an hour ago. His eyes are unfocused, still red but not as puffy.

“Hwanhee,” he calls quietly, setting the plate down on the table. “It’s time to eat.” The boy doesn’t respond. Jinhwan bites his lip. He can’t do it. He can’t watch him die. “I-I have to get more milk.” Desperately, he pulls on his coat and grabs his keys. “Try to-- try to eat something, okay?” He can’t bear to look back as he leaves.

The wind is cold, stinging his face as his tears freeze on his cheeks. He doesn’t bother to wipe them away; it’s no use, they’ll freeze again. He doesn’t go to the store, only wherever his legs take him, because he doesn’t know where to go. It wasn’t right, he should have reported Gyuri, should have confessed to the police. He should have gone to Captain Kim and turned himself in and rotted in prison, but he can’t do it. He can’t ing do it, and instead, he’s killing his boyfriend because he is a ing coward.

Jinhwan deserves to die. He should be the one eating the poisoned food, not Hwanhee, not the sweet, cheerful boy who’s never done any wrong.

Jinhwan turns, sprints back to his apartment. His hands shake as he struggles to fit the key into the lock, please don’t let me be late please don’t be late don’t be too late please please please don’t eat it please--

But he’s too late. Of course he is. Pure agony rips itself from his lungs as he stumbles forward, grasping at Hwanhee’s shoulders, cradling his head against his chest. His poor boy, his beautiful boy, the sweet, innocent, terrible sin of his life, cold and lifeless and gone.

He shouldn’t have done this, shouldn’t have been involved in the first place. He never should have let the temptation take him, never should have dragged anyone into it at all. He hates himself, hates the world, hates Gyuri and Jungkook, hates how they get to live while Hwanhee has to die. He hates them, Jinhwan hates them.

But more than anything, he hates himself. He hates his own cowardice, his fear, so much that four people had to die, so much that the boy he loved and still loves had to die, and by his own hand. He hates that, even in death, Hwanhee had continued to protect him, writing a suicide note to avoid placing any blame on Jinhwan.

Jinhwan hates it.

J,

I know you didn’t want to do it, any of it, and I’m sorry I was so terrible to you. If this is the only way to solve the problem, then I’m glad I could do it myself. Don’t blame yourself, okay? I still trust you.

H