[title song: it's not u it's me - bea miller ft 6lack]

3.

Sunhee imagines that it was a dark, dark night when they had found Seulgi the second time. Seulgi tells her she was passing by a park. Seulgi tells her that she was stopped by two men she had never seen before and they held her at knifepoint and she doesn’t remember exactly what happened, just that one moment she was staring down the end of a knife, her entire life flashing before her eyes, and the next she was being shoved backwards and there was a moment of scuffling, of sensory overload, before a boy was bleeding out in front of her and Kai was there, somehow, some way. It’s a jumbled story, one Seulgi tells her in a stilted way, jumping from point a to point c and then to point b, her eyes glazed over as she recalls what sounds like a horrible, traumatizing night.

Sunhee doesn’t remember a night where Seulgi didn’t come home—mostly because, sometimes, Sunhee is so exhausted, she isn’t able to wait for Seulgi to get home from her night shift before going to bed. It must have been one of those nights.

Seulgi tells her that Kai and Baekhyun—“the annoying you met in the kitchen”—had been there along with the bleeding boy, that Kai had spoken some sense into her because she was, admittedly, crying her eyes out, wracked with guilt, because clearly this boy had been stabbed because of her.

“I owed that to them.” Seulgi mumbles, yawning around her mug of coffee. It’s so late—or rather so early—that Sunhee had decided trying to get a nap in before work wouldn’t even be worth it. So, she’s brewed a giant pot of coffee and is hoping for the best. Seulgi gets to sleep in since she has the day off, much to Sunhee’s sleep-deprived annoyance. “But I was—it was a lot. Kai could tell I was upset, so he offered me a bed for the night. And—well, that’s it.”

Seulgi blushes.

Sunhee doesn’t think Seulgi is telling her everything. She doesn’t explain Suho’s hostility towards her. She doesn’t explain why she’s blushing.

Sunhee, however, does not push it because she respects Seulgi’s boundaries, even if Sunhee thinks Seulgi is slowly falling into something very, very dangerous.

There are a million things Sunhee would like to say to Seulgi, but all she manages is, “I was serious about letting me answer their calls. They’re dangerous, Seulgi.”

Seulgi rolls her eyes, no malice behind her expression. “I know they’re dangerous.”

Sunhee wants to say, You should remember it.

Instead, Sunhee just nods, mumbles, “You owe me. I’m going to fall asleep at my desk, at this rate.”

“It’s your fault for working on a Sunday.”

Sunhee just kicks Seulgi’s thigh. Seulgi laughs.

~.~.~.~.~

Sunhee yawns for what must have been the millionth time that day. She sits on the steps in front of her office building, relishing in the fresh air and the warmth of the sun on her skin, hoping maybe the sun can wake her up since she was about three seconds away from falling asleep in her desk. Sunhee unlatches her heels, rubbing her heels while she ignores the cursory glances she gets from passing pedestrians.

For a moment, Sunhee revels in the serenity around her. The streets are quieter than usual, cars zipping by as people stream past her on the sidewalks, hustling to get to wherever they need to go. There is a gentle breeze that cools her skin, the sun warm against her skin, the sky a bright, cloudless blue, the humidity is low, and the fine dust levels are at a minimum for once, thanks to the breeze, so she feels like she can truly breathe. She yawns, yet again, her eyes drooping a bit, and she sighs, stretching her arms over her head. For a moment, Sunhee can pretend like last night never happened.

(She can’t stop thinking about it. About Suho’s ominous words of her involvement, about the way Seulgi and Kai seemed to linger around each other, about the sheer amount of blood she had seen in that room, about how young that boy looked. She can’t stop thinking about it and her job—calling people to warn them of overdue bills and foreclosures—only makes her mood worse.)

She knows there’s a simple solution to these problems and that’s to not get involved, even if Seulgi does.

But, Seulgi has been there for Sunhee through some of her lowest moments—breakups and falling outs and nights when Sunhee’s heart felt like it was being torn in a million pieces and she would never be whole again. Sunhee had been there for Seulgi’s lowest moments, too. They’d both been there for each other’s best moments, as well, for the times when everything seemed so utterly perfect and happiness was an all-encompassing feeling that wrapped them up in so much goodness, they felt invincible.

Sunhee doesn’t think she could leave Seulgi to deal with any of this on her own. No matter how heartless Sunhee feels—when her friends would joke about it or after she’d end a successful call with yet another client—Sunhee isn’t good at feeling responsible for others. It was the sole reason for a lot of her lowest moments in life.

“Oh, there you are.” Sunhee blinks, jolting out of her thoughts. At the top of the stairs, lingering at the front doors, the newest intern—a kid fresh out of high school who obviously has his together, since he’s managed to land an internship at a law firm at such a young age and seemed to know exactly what he wanted to do, career-wise, when she asked him on his first day—blinks at her, waving awkwardly at her.

“Sanha.” She gets to her feet and the kid—Sanha—snorts at the fact that she’s barefoot. “What’s up?”

She slips on her shoes as she follows him into the building, half-wondering how he managed to get so tall already while he explains that they’re about to have a quick team meeting and their manager was looking for her. After his quick briefing, he tacks on a quick, “You seem exhausted, Sunhee. You okay?”

(She’s only known Sanha for a week, since their desks are right across from each other and whenever a coworker would do or say something ridiculous, they’d lock eyes and bond over mutual judgement. Sanha seemed to take these moments of solidarity as a basis for friendship—or maybe he’s just a really friendly person—because he’d started sparking up conversations with her when they’d wait for the printer or ask her if she wanted to join him for lunch. Despite it being only a week, he’s starting tacking on informal suffixes to her name (though she’s noticed he does that with everyone in the office and no one seemed to mind since he was practically the baby of the office—and, sometimes, Sunhee thought he looked like a literal baby because of how much he’d pout) and, maybe, she’s developed a bit of a soft spot for the kid. In fact, everyone in the office has.)

“I’m fine. I just hate working Sundays.” Sunhee shrugs.

Sanha wrinkles his nose, “God, me too. It should be illegal.”

“I’m sure if you asked the boss to give us Sundays off, he’d do it.”

“You think he would?” Sanha purses his lips and Sunhee resists the urge to coo and pinch his cheeks.

The meeting is quick—“They could have sent all that in an email,” Sanha mumbles to her as they head to their desks—and they’re dismissed for the day.

Sanha offers her some of his snacks before they head their separate ways, Sunhee glancing over her shoulder, noting Sanha tossing his backpack into the backseat of a sleek black car before he ducks into the car.

Surprisingly, Sunhee is filled with content as she walks to her bus stop, but she should have known it wouldn’t last.

~.~.~.~.~

Sunhee doesn’t mind the neighborhood she lives in. Sure, maybe Seulgi and her live in the guest house of an even bigger house which requires them to trek through back alleys to get home. Maybe the elderly woman who rents the place out to them is a bit strange—sometimes, when Sunhee comes home late from the office or the convenience store, she sees old Mrs. Kim lighting candles in her tiny, leafy garden up on her roof while holding a bowl up in the air, beads dangling from her fingers and long robes billowing in the breeze, moonlight illuminating her features. Sunhee never really sees her husband. She just hears him shouting at Mrs. Kim at various points throughout the day whenever Sunhee is home. Though they are strange, Sunhee doesn’t mind. She doesn’t even mind the house behind their guesthouse that they have to pass by every day, even if it seems like it’s been abandoned ages ago, if not for the potted plants outside its gates that never seem to die. Sunhee doesn’t even mind the shady people wandering through the streets whenever she’d go on a quick run to the convenience store.

Sunhee doesn’t mind a lot of things.

Until now.

“You have got to be ing kidding me.” Sunhee groans, scowling as she nears the front door.

Maybe, it’s not the best idea for her to roll her eyes when she’s currently all alone in the alley in front of her house while a dangerous gang member lounges against her door, the picture-perfect imagery of a Bad Boy™.

Kai’s head snaps up and Sunhee can see the disappointment blooming through his features, his mouth pressing into a thin line and his eyes dulling in irritation. Sunhee rolls her eyes, again; she can’t help it. As if his expression wasn’t enough to convey his feelings, Kai adds an incredibly bland, “Oh, it’s you. Great.”

“Yeah.” Sunhee’s frown deepens as she forces any remnants of fear and anxiety his presence reminds her of deep down, willing herself to become the epitome of unimpressed. “Well, I live here. I’m supposed to be here.”

Kai pushes himself off the wall next to the door, squaring his shoulders, and Sunhee tries very, very hard to ignore the fact that Kai only looks more intimidating with the added height. “The only reason I haven’t—”

“What the do you want?” Sunhee cuts him off, crossing her arms over her chest, lifting her chin to look Kai right in the eye. She gestures at the door—for a moment, she wonders why Seulgi hadn’t opened the door for Kai, because it’s Seulgi’s day off and she had sent Sunhee a snapchat from their kitchen half an hour ago, wonders if maybe Seulgi had actually listened to Sunhee—while she matches the death glare on Kai’s face with one of her own.

“My jacket.” Kai responds, tone clipped. Sunhee nearly flinches at the sharpness there. Nearly.

“Fine. I’ll give you the damn thing to you myself. I’ll wash it and everything.”

Kai stares, and, for a satisfying moment, he looks subdued, taken aback. He says, “That’s not—”

Sunhee cuts him off once again, “We have lavender scented detergent and cotton scented detergent. Which one do you prefer?”

“You’re ing annoying.” This time Kai squares back his shoulders, stepping a little too close.

Sunhee stands her ground, scoffing loudly. “You know what’s ing annoying? You and your friends involving us in your bull because of what, exactly?” Sunhee reaches out, jabbing her pointer finger smack in the middle of Kai’s black leather-clad chest, “Because you have a weird thing for corrupting girls? Is that it?”

There’s a pause, a moment where Sunhee is just standing there with her pointer finger pressed into a gang member’s chest—testing God really. Kai’s eyes darken significantly as he glances down at her finger. She stiffens when Kai reaches up, so very slowly, maintaining eye contact with Sunhee the entire time, and knocks her hand off his chest. Kai says, his tone strangely quiet, an undercurrent hidden in his tone that makes her withdraw her hand the moment he touches it. “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, so I really suggest you stop talking out of your .”

“I see the way you look at her.” Sunhee says, very quietly. She has noticed the lingering gazes, the touches, and maybe it’s not love or anything, but it’s interest, probably attraction.

Kai stares at her and she feels like he can see right into her soul, into the deepest, darkest depths of it. There’s a long moment where everything just comes to a standstill, and, for a moment, Sunhee thinks Kai will punch her. His fist clenches at his side, his jaw goes taut, his eyes unwavering. He does not seem nice at all, like Seulgi had assured her.

Sunhee adds, murmurs, really, “I don’t trust you or your intentions, Kai. Leave us alone. Leave her alone.”

For a moment, Sunhee thinks Kai really will just walk away.

But then Kai says, voice low, knowing, “I see the way you look at her, too.” Kai tilts his head, “What are your intentions, exactly?”

Sunhee blinks, her fingers tightening around the straps of her bag, her heart feeling like it’s lodged in . She opens , “I—”

Kai laughs. He laughs.

Sunhee blinks at the sound, a loud guffawing, mocking sound. Sunhee blinks and blinks and—

Sunhee’s hand stings. Kai holds his cheek, a red handprint already forming, his eyes blazing as he stares at her.

She fumbles with her keys, the sound of them jingling, echoing up and down the alley as Sunhee turns her back on Kai, tries to completely block him out of her vision. Her hands don’t really stop shaking.

Kai says, very quietly, his voice so light, it nearly floats away with the breeze, “I could tell her, or you could stop being so annoying.”

Her fingers freeze against the doorknob. She doesn’t look over her shoulder, back still to him, as she responds, forcing her voice to remain steady, though it doesn’t. It won’t.

“Are you threatening me?”

He sighs, his voice barely audible, “I’m asking you to evaluate your own intentions here. You and I both know you can’t make decisions for her. She’s her own person. And, you don’t even know me.” A cough. “I’m not going to hurt her.”

“You can’t promise that.”

“I can try.”

Sunhee finds that she is leaning against her front door, forehead pressed to the cool surface, fingers still holding the doorknob tightly. She wants to say off, but things are stacking up against her, too high, too heavy. And, she doesn’t want to be that kind of person, to appear possessive or horrible. Seulgi doesn’t deserve that. Sunhee’s eyes sting, for a moment, a wave of sadness filling her gut, but she takes a deep breath and suppresses it, spinning on her heels to look Kai in the eyes.

Fear is a peculiar thing. It births irrationality. It creates compliance and inaction. Kai can see it, in her eyes, and he doesn’t step away. He stares her dead in the eyes, unwavering, promising. She is not afraid of him, but rather an intangible fear that has been ingrained into her by society since she was a child. They both know this. She withers under the knowledge while he thrives.

They both know, right then, even though she told Seulgi she’d say no for her, it’s backfired completely and Sunhee is complying even though she told Seulgi off for doing so. They both know the threat worked. Kai smiles. Sunhee scowls.

The door behind her opens and Kai’s eyes drift right through her, lingering over her shoulder, a small, almost adorable smile flitting across his face.

Seulgi’s voice echoes, “Sunhee, you’re he—oh. K—Kai?”

Kai says, with a small smile, “I came by for my jacket, but you’re wearing it.” A pause, “It looks good on you, you know.”

Sunhee thinks, him.

She hopes her eyes convey the message thoroughly, even as she spins to face Seulgi.

a/n: I FINALLY outlined exactly how this is going to end and, like, I'm so excited to write it!!! I do think it'll be significantly shorter (and not so drawn out like a lot of my other fics) so watch out for that! I'm excited to write this and plot point Number One is now in session lmao. and if you know Astro members, I think you'll probably see things coming before it happens, but if not, yay!!! there will definitely be more baekhyun next chapter too!!

thank you thank you THANK YOU to everyone who's still sticking around on this site lol <3