[title: someone's someone - monsta x]
[~7k]

9.

The tension filling the air settles over them like a heavy winter blanket, nearly asphyxiating. At any other time, Sunhee would have been in awe of the plush leather seats and the spacious backseat. But, now, she sits, back rigid, in the backseat, eyes not once leaving the road in front of them as she memorizes the various turns Sanha’s brother takes. She’ll be damned if she allows him to take her to an unknown location.

She tries not to look at Sanha all the while, where he’s seated beside her in the backseat—he had ignored his brother’s request for him to sit in the front seat, confusion and worry and tension filling his youthful face, twisting it into an expression that looks entirely out of place on him.

It’s quiet for a long, long time, until Sanha speaks up first. He asks, “How do you know Suho?”

She winces a little at his words because Sanha speaks Suho’s name with a tinge of fear, as if he has witnessed Suho’s wrath firsthand. She sincerely wishes she is wrong on that assumption. Still, that means the entire time she’s known Sanha he’s also been involved with Suho and his gang—through his brother, if not through himself—and that’s a horrifying thought all on its own.

(She’s always seen the world as good and evil, black and white, and she can’t fathom that someone as sweet as Sanha could possibly be involved with a gang. From the way Sanha would talk about his brother, she never once thought him to be capable of being a gang member.)

She doesn’t answer Sanha. Not when she meets Sanha’s brother’s eyes through the rearview mirror and he shakes his head, ever-so-slightly.

(Maybe, Sanha’s brother has the same thoughts as her—Sanha is too young, too wide-eyed, to be involved.)

Sanha lets out a loud sigh. His voice rises as he bites out a sharp, “Jinwoo.”

Sanha’s brother—Jinwoo, she remembers that name now, she remembers—takes a sharp left turn that sends Sunhee’s shoulder flying into the door. Sanha doesn’t budge, doesn’t buckle, even when Jinwoo says, “It’s dangerous for you to know too much. Let it go, Sanha.”

For a moment, Sanha looks as if he’ll argue, but then he seems to bite his tongue. He just ends up huffing, arms crossed over his chest, bottom lip jutting out. “Fine.” He huffs. “I’ll let it go for now.”

She hears the promise in for now. So does Jinwoo, it seems, because their eyes meet through the rearview mirror once more and, for a moment, Jinwoo looks as exasperated as Sunhee feels. Sunhee can’t help the small smile.

Then that moment of brief camaraderie is gone, especially when Jinwoo comes to a halt in front of what looks like an abandoned warehouse—the building looms ahead, windows boarded up and walls covered in vines and graffiti.

She doesn’t wait for Jinwoo or Sanha to get out of the car; she barely waits for Jinwoo to cut the engine. She steps out on her own, eyes fixed on the building. The sun hasn’t even begun to set yet, the sun still beating down on them and the sky a bright, cloudless blue. Still, there is an eeriness to their surroundings, an unsettling serenity, like the calm before a storm. The sound of the car engine running and Jinwoo’s door slamming shut behind him as he makes his way to her side are the only noises in the vicinity, and, somehow, it makes the silence more nerve wracking.

Thankfully, Sanha remains in the car.

She glances sideways at Jinwoo before she peers up at the abandoned warehouse. She says, “He’s here?”

“Yes.” Jinwoo says.

She wrinkles her nose. The hairs at the back of her neck stand on end as she says, slowly, “This is the perfect place to murder someone, you know?”

Jinwoo has the nerve to snort in amusement. She scowls him, tearing her gaze off the building. His grin is wide and his eyes curl into little crescent moons; she thinks he looks younger this way, more like the big brother she imagined every time Sanha would casually mention his brother in passing.

“Maybe that’s the point.” Jinwoo says, “No one would ever know.”

“Except Sanha.” She mutters, tone pointed.

Jinwoo’s smile drops immediately, as if she’s flipped a switch in him. Maybe, she has. Jinwoo purses his lips as he crosses his arms over his chest, his neck craned as he frowns up at the abandoned warehouse. He is angry. She figures she should allow him that because if she were in his place, she would be, too.

Jinwoo laments, more to himself than to her, “Why did you have to be friends with him?”

She doesn’t know why, but she feels a wave of pity for him. Clearly, Jinwoo loves his brother very much, and it adds another layer of humanity to him that Sunhee honestly believed gang members didn’t deserve.

(At least, she used to believe that. Clearly, her views on morality have become a bit skewed—she wouldn’t have offered cookies as a means of apology to Baekhyun otherwise. She isn’t sure, however, if that’s a bad thing. Maybe, she was being too harsh, all this time. Maybe not everything is blatantly black or white, not even people who participate in illegal activities.)

Despite her pity, she maintains a sharp tone as she points out, “If I die, the guilt will be brutal for you, won’t it?”

She watches Jinwoo’s eyes widen, watches as an annoyed glare spreads across his face. Maybe, she’s an idiot for responding with a grin, but she doesn’t care. She may feel pity for Jinwoo and whatever he’s gotten himself caught up in, but she’s not going to coddle him. If she dies because he delivered her to Suho, she hopes it will eat him up until the day he dies. She takes a moment to relish in the emotions flitting across his face before she turns on her heels, tossing her hair over her shoulder and leaving Jinwoo to figure his out on his own.

(She squares back her shoulders and tries for fearless, despite the way her fingers tremble at her sides. Still, she curls them into fists, and she walks, head held high, right into what she hopes is not the last place she’ll ever visit. She can hear Jinwoo hurrying after her, his footfalls heavy.)

The grip on her forearm is rough and she yanks away from Jinwoo’s grip, spinning to face him. He gives her a look she can’t interpret, but it makes her anger falter momentarily. She maintains her glare, maintains a tough façade, because there is no way in hell she’s going to show vulnerability. Not to Jinwoo and not to Suho.

Jinwoo breaks away first, stepping around her to knock out a complicated beat against the door.

There is a brief silence, her eyes fixed on the door and Jinwoo’s back.

Jinwoo doesn’t turn around, doesn’t even spare her a glance over his shoulder, as he says, voice low, “He’s not going to kill you. Seulgi cares too much about you.”

She blinks at Jinwoo.

The door slides open and a man with a gun nods at Jinwoo. Jinwoo’s nod back is terse.

Then he spins on his heels, unreadable gaze flickering over her face. He stuffs his hands into his pocket and brushes past her, back to the car, to Sanha. He speaks quietly as he brushes past her, “You have the upper hand, Shin. Use it.”

She watches him saunter away, not even bothering to shake off the man gripping her elbow and practically dragging her into the warehouse, gears in her head spinning.

(She stumbles over her feet, ignoring whatever the man barks out while shoving her foreword, because all she can think about is how Jinwoo had said Seulgi cares too much about you, how that implies that Suho somehow cares enough about Seulgi to not only know something like that, but also to adhere to her needs and wants.)

Why would Suho care so much about that?

~.~.~.~.~

Suho fiddles with the sleeves of his expensive button-down silk shirt, rolling them up to his elbows as he loosens his tie and saunters closer to her. They’re in a small room somewhere in the warehouse, furnished with nothing except for a wooden desk with an old-fashioned green lamp and a comfortable looking office chair. There are no papers on the desk, no pens, nothing.

She had stood in the middle of the windowless room—the dim light from the green lamp was hard to adjust to—and waited for Suho for nearly twenty minutes.

(It was enough time, thankfully, to really mull over Jinwoo’s words and the implications behind them. Enough time to compose herself, really. It was also enough times for her nerves to catch up with her.)

Suho saunters past her, brushing his shoulder against hers before he perches atop the desk. The sudden touch startles her and she hates that Suho notices her discomfort. That was clearly what he was aiming for, anyway.

She watches him appraise her, gaze dark and unreadable. There is a sense of superiority in the way he holds himself and the way he looks at her. She can tell he doesn’t perceive her as a threat and she wants to be offended, but he isn’t wrong. She doesn’t exactly have any hidden self-defense moves under her belt nor any weapons. She doesn’t even own pepper spray—something she is severely regretting not having at this very moment.

She snaps first, “Are you going say something or are we just going to stare at each other all day?”

She hates the way her voice trembles the tiniest bit, how the vulnerability and fear sneaks into her tone, how he catches it immediately. She knows he’ll latch onto it and use it as leverage. Still, she maintains eye contact and keeps her head high, for dignity’s sake, more than anything.

He tilts his head, adjusting his sleeve, a small smile playing on his lips, “Why? Do you have somewhere to be?”

“Obviously.”

He laughs. It is a fake sound that bounces off the walls. The sound grates her ears.

She scowls.

Suho’s grin splits his beautiful face in two. It’s disconcerting, shivers running down her spine, but Sunhee wills herself to remain composed. Jinwoo’s words run through her head and she had had enough time to contemplate his words to know that Suho will not do anything serious to her. For whatever reason, Suho cares about what Seulgi wants, enough that it gives her some sort of immunity to his wrath. Still, it’s difficult for her to not cower under his terrifying aura.

“The tough act is really starting to get on my nerves.” Suho says, “And we both know that’s the last thing we would want, right?”

There is an implication there, in his tone, that makes goosebumps rise along her skin.

She ignores the question, refusing to beat around the bush any longer, because, frankly, she is exhaustingly on edge in his presence. “Can you just get to the point already? Why did you bring me here? Like, if you want to kill me or whatever, just do it.”

Suho raises a brow, “Really? Just like that?”

Sunhee shrugs, “At least I won’t have to deal with student loans anymore.”

Suho snorts—an absolutely human sound that she never expected to come from him, his handsome face twisting. The break in demeanor only happens for a moment, however, because then his dark aura returns. She blinks at the whiplash, even as he says, “God, you’re annoying.”

“If you think I’m annoying, imagine being me right now.” Sunhee mumbles. She gestures wildly around her and thankfully her voice isn’t trembling as much as it had been earlier, her ability to feign confidence returning. “All this was pointless. You won’t kill me.”

“I won’t?” Suho raises a brow, “Is that a challenge?”

Sunhee resists the urge to shake her head quickly as she says, “You’re just trying to scare me.”

Suho purses his lips, but he doesn’t say anything.

Sunhee murmurs, “What do you want from me?”

He examines her, like a predator examines it’s prey. It activates every instinct in her to run far, far away. Suho slowly pushes himself off the desk and stands before her, his presence larger-than-life. “I could kill you so easily. Call it an accident. Just like that.” He steps closer and Sunhee refuses to budge, standing her ground. Suho is so close, looming, and she sees the gun hidden beneath his jacket.

“Is Seulgi the reason why you won’t do it?” Sunhee doesn’t know why the hell she’s speaking. Clearly, Suho doesn’t seem to like her words, because his brows knit together and his fingers curl into fists.

Sunhee continues, as if is running on autopilot—maybe it’s the fear and her instinct to talk her way out of dire situations coming into play, or maybe she’s just tired of being intimidated for no feasible reason. “Do you love her or something? Is that why you care so much about keeping alive the people she cares about?”

For a moment, there is something there in Suho’s eyes, something that is too telling, but still so indecipherable. Suho reigns it in too fast for Sunhee to decipher it. But, it’s something.

“You want to know why you’re here?” Suho states. He takes another step closer, but this time, his words and the anger emanating from his eyes makes her take an involuntary step back. She pulls away from him. He grins, all teeth, and he adds, tone clipped, “I want you to tell me what she’s up to.”

His tone is so sure that it confuses Sunhee. She blinks, “Why would she be up to anything?”

Suho’s gaze flickers between her and, for a moment, he looks genuinely surprised by whatever he sees on her face. “You really don’t know?”

He sounds so amused and something about the situation makes her heart drop to her stomach. Her brain screams that there is something seriously wrong about this—that this is yet another secret Seulgi must be keeping. But, she tries to explain it away, tries to rationalize Suho’s expression and tone and clear knowledge of whatever her best friend is hiding from her for Sunhee’s sake, as Seulgi had basically implied.

(Still, she feels sick to her stomach and she can’t articulate why.)

“What do you know?” Sunhee latches onto the opportunity, adds, “What’s Seulgi to you, Junmyeon?”

The minute his real name leaves , there’s a change in his expression she does not expect. There is an unbridled sort of anger that startles her, his eyes hardening as he turns his glare on her. For a moment, she thinks he’ll hit her.

Suho laughs, though, and it sounds hollow, even as he says, voice low and angry. “You want to know why I’m keeping the people she cares about alive? Why I’m keeping you alive?”

She almost wants to shake her head. She wants to say that she doesn’t want to know, that she just wants to be left out of all this.

“I’m keeping you alive as leverage.” Suho states. “And, because you’ve really ing pissed me off, I think I’ll keep her working for us for a very, very long time. Lucky for you, that means you’ll be living a long, healthy life. Unless she s up.”

Sunhee’s stomach churns and she feels like she’ll throw up.

“You wouldn’t want her to up, would you, Sunhee? Not only would that mean that’d I’d have to hurt you to keep her in line, but I might even decide to get rid of her and find us a new medic.”

All Sunhee can manage to say is, “You wouldn’t get rid of her.”

“Not yet.” Suho shrugs. “You clearly don’t know our history, do you?”

Sunhee can barely hide the way her hands are trembling, with anxiety and worry, her thoughts already running full speed, gears churning, even though she knows he’s just playing mind games with her. Still, Sunhee can’t shake the fact that if Seulgi had just told her what had happened between them, she could have some type of real leverage here—Jinwoo was clearly wrong in telling her she had an advantage to alleviate his guilt.

“There is a way for you to make sure she doesn’t up.” He taps out a rhythm against the desk behind him. Thump, thump, thump. Thump, thump, thump. His grin is like the Cheshire Cat’s.

She stares at him, says, tone flat, “You want me to tell you when she’s up to something.”

It comes out as a statement rather than a question.

Suho’s smile stretches thin, marring his pretty face. “Maybe you’re not so useless after all.”

“If you think I’d betray my best friend because of some empty threats, then—”

“You have no idea whether they’re empty or not, do you, Shin?” Suho pushes himself away from the desk. “That’s the beauty of it all. Not knowing will eat you up inside.”

“You’re only making this seem more and more like a bluff—”

One moment, Suho is hovering near the desk, and the next Suho is too close, and there is something cold pressed to the underside of her chin and he is gripping her shoulder so tightly, fingers digging so deep, she’s sure it will bruise. She blinks. He leans uncomfortably close, twisting the gun—it’s a gun, oh god oh god oh go—further into the underside of her chin, the cold metal digging painfully into her skin. She hadn’t even seen him move. Her heart slams against her ribs and she gets the sudden urge to cry. She squirms in his grip, especially when he smiles, oh-so-politely, though with a hint of wildness that sends shivers down her spine. She meets his gaze, though, and maybe she’s being an idiot, but she doesn’t back down. “This gun is only half full. Some of them are blanks and some of them are not. Do you want me to test it out right now? Want me to show you if I’m bluffing?”

The fear that radiates through her is so wholly paralyzing that she finds she can barely breathe. She shakes her head, afraid to say anything because she’s worried no words will come out. She does not want to test something like that.

He says, “I just need you to keep her in check. Can you do that, Shin?”

She nods, the cold barrel of the gun still pressed to the underside of her chin. Her stomach churns and the guilt coursing through her is monumental, but the dread is worse, in this moment.

Suho steps back, then, and it takes all her willpower to not collapse right there nor scramble far, far away from him. She wants to keep some kind of dignity, despite everything. He brushes past her, then, and she tries to catch her bearings.

She almost misses the way he pauses at the door and says, “If you’re half the person I think you are, you’ll make sure she doesn’t do anything that stupid.”

She moves on autopilot as the man from before grabs her by the elbow and shoves her out the room. This time, she shakes him off her—she notices that he is handsome, but stoic, a little short and stocky with heart-shaped lips and a buzzcut—glaring at him hard enough for him to not even bother to grab her by the elbow. He promptly leads her out the building, not even looking back to make sure she follows, and the moment he shuts the warehouse door behind her, her knees buckle under her and drops to the floor, clutching at the grass as she tries to slow her heart.

She whispers, “Jesus ing Christ.”

Her heart does not stop hammering against her ribs and her breath does not stop feeling short.

Her fingers move on their own accord as she digs for her cellphone, forcing herself to get back on her feet.

~.~.~.~.~

She sits on the curb, fiddling with her phone. All her muscles feel taut, high-strung, and she stares down the empty road. She can’t help but notice that Jinwoo and Sanha (Sanha is the brother of a gang member hits her too hard right then) hadn’t waited for her. She’s literally stranded in a deserted part of town with no way back. Perhaps, an excellent power move would be to march back in that warehouse and demand a ride back from Suho or that other man, but Sunhee is out of faux confidence to keep her going. Her fingers won’t stop shaking and her stomach won’t stop churning. The underside of her chin throbs. She is tired, mentally, emotionally, and physically.

She wants to call Seulgi, but after everything, she can’t.

She knows why, but she can’t admit. Not now. Not yet.

She can’t call Sanha, either.

(It’s in that moment that she realizes she only has two friends that she can really rely on. It’s a bit depressing.)

Her finger hovers over Baekhyun’s contact.

(Three friends, not two. It’s still damn depressing.)

He picks up after three long seconds of ringing, his tone distracted.

“What’s up?”

“I just. I…um…I need a ride. Please?” She stutters. It’s so very unlike her and it makes her redden.

Baekhyun, fortunately, doesn’t seem to notice. He still sounds distracted. She hears a voice in the background, along with music. She resists the urge to hang up just because she feels a little like she’s bothering him. He says, “I need more info, Sunhee. Where exactly are you? Why are you calling me?”

She looks up, tries to find a street sign or something, but there’s nothing. The sun is beginning to set, darkness settling over the golden tones of sunset, drowning everything around her in darkness. There are only a few streetlamps up and down the empty road, slowly beginning to light up. It’s so empty; it sends a chill right down her spine, spiking her anxiety even more. “I…I don’t know.” This time, her voice cracks, just a bit, and she coughs to cover it up. “I don’t know why I’m calling you. It’s just…There aren’t any street names. Just a ton of warehouses and I thought you’d—I don’t know.”

(She knows Baekhyun must know this place—he works for Suho, after all. A part of her tries to rationalize the idiocy of calling Baekhyun of all people, but she is running on autopilot and Baekhyun is really all she has left at the moment, as sad as that sounds.)

“Warehouses?” He cuts her off, the sharpness in his tone making her tense up. He sounds a thousand times more alert, “Why the hell are you out there?”

“Look, it’s a long story.” Sunhee bristles at his agitated tone, her tone matching his, “Can you just come pick me up?”

The silence feels too long, too tense. For a moment, Sunhee wonders if he’s hung up on her. She pulls away from her phone, glancing at the screen, doublechecking that he’s still on the line, before she puts it back to her ear and she adds a quiet, hopefully dignified, “Please?”

There’s another pause. She can feel the panic settling in her bones. What if he doesn’t come?

“Baek—”

“You don’t need to ask twice.” He sounds breathless, but pointed, firm, “I’ll be right there. Just hang on.”

Before she can muster a response, the line goes dead, and somehow, that just makes her feel worse. Somehow, she just feels infinitely alone at the edge of the universe, as darkness slowly swallows her whole. Somehow, the panic that had been budding inside her bubbles up in and chest and she gets the ridiculous urge to cry, yet again.

~.~.~.~.~

When he pulls up to the curb, it’s completely dark and it’s cold and Sunhee prays to whatever God is out there that Suho doesn’t come out of the warehouse and see her. In fact that’s all she’s been doing for the past fifteen minutes, along with suppressing the emotions bubbling up inside of her.

His car headlights nearly blind her.

He barely parks the car before he throws open the door and rounds the car, making his way to her. His dark hair is messy and he’s wearing a hoodie that is too big, the sleeves bunched up at his elbows. He looks like he’s rolled out of bed. A wave of guilt hits her at the sight of him, at the way his hair sticks up all over the place.

She watches as he saunters over to her, until he is just a few steps away, hovering above her just enough that she has to crane her neck to look at him. It hurts a little, but the pain keeps her steady, strangely enough.

“Hey.” She says, waving a hand weakly as she continues craning her neck up to look at him.

Baekhyun purses his lips. He looks like he wants to say something but she can’t quite decipher his expression, not when the headlights are hitting him from the back and casting shadows all over his face.

Slowly, he reaches down, hands outstretched for her to take, his pretty fingers inches from her nose. She glances down at his fingers. He wiggles them invitingly, says, “You must be cold. Let’s go.”

Slowly, she nods. Slowly, she takes them. Her hands are cold, but his are warm. He seems to notice her cold hands, because he cups her fingers in his as he pulls her up off the curb easily, rubbing their hands together.

He does this for a long, long minute before he asks, “What did he want with you?”

His gaze flickers over her shoulder, his brows furrowed and his pretty pink lips pressed into a thin line.

She doesn’t like that he knows straightaway who she was here to see. It’s as if all the things that are unknown to her are known to everyone else in her life; every secret she stumbles upon is seemingly a secret everyone is already privy to. It’s both terrifying and disappointing. Most of all, it makes her angry. It reminds her that Baekhyun works for Suho. She knows this, but she seems to be forgetting at moments like these, when she thinks she can trust him, when she feels fleetingly safe around him.

Baekhyun must see the change in her expression, because his grip on her hands loosen. She is the one, however, to pull her hands back to her side, immediately missing the warmth of his hands.

She swivels on her heels and makes her way to the other side of the car, slamming the car door shut behind her. It’s easier, she thinks, to feel anger than her other emotions. If she cannot mask her emotions with self-deprecating jokes, then anger is usually her second-best option. Either that or stress cleaning until her fingers fall off.

Baekhyun settles into the driver’s seat moments later and he doesn’t say a word as he buckles his seatbelt. She’s angry with herself, now, for calling Baekhyun of all people. She’s angry because all these people are making her doubt Seulgi’s intentions, even briefly, and she feels horrible for thinking badly of her best friend. What kind of best friend is she? She’s angry that she is being threatened with Seulgi constantly. She’s angry. She’s just angry. That’s all, nothing else.

Baekhyun just drives. Drives and drives while the quiet engulfs her the further away they get from Suho and his warehouse and his threats. The feeling of his gun against her skin. The cold sweat and the rough grip. It’s behind her. She is safe, even if Baekhyun is a gang member too, she knows he is her friend. She is safe.

She is safe.

The realization releases a wave of relief that hits her so hard, it engulfs her anger completely, drowning it. Her fingers tremble. The panic that had nestled deep inside her bones have become a mere tremor, an afterthought of the adrenaline that had been coursing through her veins this entire time.

“Oh.” She breathes out, her fingers tangling in her lap.

“Are you okay?” She doesn’t expect the gentleness in his tone. She startles, looking up at him, glancing around.

It takes her a moment to process that Baekhyun has pulled over on the side of the road, far away from the warehouse, somewhere on the Eastern side of town, near the thrift store she sometimes frequents. It takes her another moment to process the concern in his eyes as he looks at her, hands hovering, unsure, but careful not to touch her.

She opens to say something snarky, something along the lines of I’m ing peachy, but nothing comes out of her open mouth. She closes , opens it, closes it once more, before tears well up in her eyes.

She shakes her head, a quick movement, trying in vain to blink away the tears stinging in her eyes. It doesn’t work. Of course, it doesn’t ing work. Not when she accidentally makes eye contact with Baekhyun and he looks so worried and her brain seems to finally fully grasp the fact that she is safe, if even for a moment. Suho and his gun and his threats are gone, for now. The tears just start to fall, and she can’t stop it.

, though, flips into overdrive, and she’s trying to talk through the tears, hiccupping as she says, “I th—thought I was going to fu—fu—ing die. And, you’re asking me if I’m okay? Oh, my God, oh my God, oh my God. Of course, I’m n—not—not okay. I—I think I lost like—like ten whole ing years off m—my life from the str—stress. And I work at a law off—office.” She blubbers, stumbling over her words as they just spill out of , jumbling together.

To his credit, Baekhyun does not laugh at her word vomit nor the way she cries. He just reaches across the center console of the car and carefully grasps her hand, squeezing it lightly. The care in his simple gesture is startling, something she hasn’t really experienced in a long, long time. She cries harder then, not even bothering to speak because it’ll all just come out an indecipherable, jumbled mess. To his credit, he continues rubbing comforting circles along the back of her hand with his thumbs, all while she tries to hide her face, vaguely aware of the fact that she’ll be incredibly embarrassed after all this runs its course.

Eventually, she quiets down. She doesn’t know how long it takes, but feels scratchy and her eyes are swollen. She can’t stop sniffling.

She avoids his eyes.

Baekhyun is still rubbing circles along the back of her hand. He says, “I take it all that meant you’re not okay.”

Her gaze snaps up and his eyes are twinkling with mischief, though there is still that gentle concern there. There is no malicious intent and, somehow, that relaxes her. She manages a small, watery glare. She mutters, voice rough, “You’re annoying.”

“Yet, you called me to pick you up. You must like me a little bit.”

“No.” Sunhee doesn’t pull her hand out of his. Instead she uses her other hand to wipe her cheeks with her jacket sleeve, coughing to clear , “It was a lapse in my judgement.”

“Hmm.” Baekhyun has the audacity to grin, raising a brow suggestively, “Good to know I have that effect on you.”

“Shut up.” Sunhee groans, pulling her hand out of his, ignoring the disappointment in the loss of warmth from his hands (the loss of security, really, because she knows he is anything but). “Just take me home.”

“Where’s the please?”

“Up your .”

Baekhyun snorts. Sunhee frowns, watching as he lets out a small, melodic giggles. For some reason, it triggers something in her. She can’t help the way twitches—his smile is contagious in many ways. She tries to hide her grin. His grin gets wider, seemingly amused by her expression. It takes only a moment for her to let out a small, breathless laugh. The conversation between them isn’t even funny, but, somehow, Baekhyun’s presence and his expressions, his wide twinkling eyes that pretend to be innocent and his small boxy grin, coaxes a laugh out of her.

The silence they fall into is comforting.

He says, tone quieter, more somber. “Seriously, though. You okay? Junmyeon might be my boss, but I can find a reason to kick his , you know.”

“Thanks.” She lets out a small chuckle before she takes a deep breath and leans back on the chair, her cheek and the side of her head pressed to the back of the seat as she blinks at Baekhyun’s steering wheel, eyes focused on the way his fingers fiddle with the steering wheel. She doesn’t look him in the eyes. She’s not sure why she can’t, and she doesn’t bother delving into it. “But I think I was just…shocked. It’s fine.”

She can hear the eye roll in Baekhyun’s voice, “You don’t look fine.”

She tears her eyes off the wheel to meet his gaze. It is heavy and pointed. She remembers the feel of the gun on her skin. The sharp pain is still there, a dull throbbing that pulses on and on. She touches the underside of her chin and pain blooms. She winces, mutters an eloquent, “Oh.” Baekhyun lets out a small sigh when she tacks on, “It’s nothing.”

Despite the pure disbelief in his eyes, despite the way he rolls his eyes at her words, he doesn’t press. He just turns the ignition to the car and switches off the emergency lights, focusing his attention on the road.

She needs to think. Maybe, he had recognized that more than she had. She needs to understand why Suho wanted her to keep Seulgi in check. She needs to know what exactly Seulgi has been doing—she’s dating Kai, as far as Sunhee knows, but God knows what else she’s gotten up to. She needs to know things. She doesn’t want to be left in the dark any longer, relegated to be a secondary character who is only meant to know what others choose for her to know.

She needs to think.

She needs a friend.

That’s something she realizes right then, as they drive closer to her house. She needs a friend who won’t leave her in the dark. It saddens her, breaks her heart into so many ing pieces, knowing or even thinking of how Seulgi isn’t that friend. She’s supposed to be. She’s supposed to be.

Her eyes start to sting all over again. She glares at the dashboard, rubbing her eyes, wishing she could tear her tear ducts out and be done with it.

Seulgi’s supposed to open the door and pull her out the dark. Sunhee’s supposed to support all the things Seulgi does while keeping her safe and Seulgi’s supposed to do the same back. They had promised each other as much back in university. As the city lights whiz by, Sunhee comes to the stark, horrifyingly heart-rending realization that Seulgi is not doing any of what she is supposed to be doing as Sunhee’s best friend. The pain under Sunhee’s chin cannot mask the sharp pain in her chest, as if the disappointment and heartbreak has manifested itself into a physical pain so jagged it’ll tear right through her chest. Sunhee understands that sometimes new relationships and crushes can consume someone so wholly, they forget that there is a life outside of their current significant other. She understands that. But, this time, there is an underlayer of danger, of gang involvement that is more than just a regretful hobby of Kai’s. It is life threatening and it has gotten not only Seulgi involved, but also Sunhee.

Seulgi had said, over and over, that she is keeping information from Sunhee to protect her. She keeps telling Sunhee to trust her. Despite all these realizations, Sunhee still trusts her, still wants to find the good in Seulgi’s actions towards Sunhee, wants to convince herself that Seulgi is holding up her end of the friendship and isn’t selfishly consumed by Kai and whatever she has going on with Suho. She keeps wanting to find excuses for Seulgi, despite the fact that she can still hear Suho’s threats echoing in her head and she can still feel the gun against her skin, and it hits all at once, hard and fast, like a speeding truck that—

“I love her.” She admits, her voice cracking on the word her. She admits it out loud for the first time in her life and it becomes so ing real right then, so real, but so so true. It’s exactly why, she knows, she’s been ignoring all the red flags this whole time. She’s still ignoring them, still justifying everything in her head. She isn’t sure she’ll ever be able to stop. A pressure builds up at the center of her chest and suddenly she cannot breathe.

Her eyes well with more tears but she wipes them away quickly, angrily. She is angry at herself, most of all. For many, many things. It is a rage that runs unbridled and roaring; a rage she wishes to succumb to. It is a rage that was born from her years of yearning, that crawls under her skin, burrows a home there and lives, lives, lives.

“I love her so much.” She blinks at Baekhyun because he is right there and, for once, the embarrassment is gone, and she feels so utterly exposed in his presence, as if the walls she has built since the day she realized she felt a yearning she wasn’t allowed to feel are beginning to crumble and he is seeing it all, seeing it fall.

She trembles when he speaks, his words so quiet but somehow so monumental, so heavy in the silence between them. Baekhyun whispers, “You’re going to be okay.”

She shakes her head and she speaks without thinking, without carefully monitoring each word, without examining each syllable with her anxiety-riddled brain, “I think—I think I would die to keep her safe. I know that’s bad, that’s ing horrible. But, I would. And, do you want to know the worst part about all this?”

Her voice is surprisingly steady. Baekhyun’s gaze is a gentleness she never thought she’d see from him.

“She would never, ever do this for me. I thought she would, but she wouldn’t.” She whispers it, dragging her hands through her hair.

“Then she doesn’t deserve you.” He says it with faraway eyes and a tenderness that leaves her feeling drained. She blinks at him as he repeats, tone firm, holding her gaze, “She does not deserve you, Sunhee.”

Sunhee shakes her head a little, even as Baekhyun reaches out, brows furrowed with determination as he murmurs a careful, “Hey, shhh, it’s okay. It’s okay.”

She is shaking, even as he leans over the center console of the car to wrap her up in his arms and hold her close. She vaguely registers that he doesn’t hesitate to touch her, like he usually does. She appreciates it. She doesn’t cry, but he holds her tight like she is crying and it’s incredibly comforting, her head resting against his chest as he rubs her back.

"You deserve so much better." He mutters against the top of her head, voice low, chest rumbling under her cheek, and she doesn't have it in her to shake her head, to deny his words. Instead, she just sighs.

A/N: idk how not make it emo hours but also I wanted a lot more Tenderness and Yearning in this fic so here is this kdhnfsdkja. PLEASE leave me any thoughts (positive or negative) because I honestly feel a little off with this fic, regarding how I'm progressing with the story T_T. Thank you everyone for reading and commenting I love you all so much my heart is jopping for all of you!!!!