“There's nowhere to run...”

Han Geng's words of warning constantly echoed through his mind. Nowhere to run. Nowhere to go. No one to return to. But it didn't mean he couldn't try. It didn't mean he had to sit here like a helpless prisoner – even if that was, in fact, his current reality. They told him there was nowhere to run, they warned him not to try, but it wouldn't be so bad if he died trying to get back to the one he loved.

Jongwoon hiccuped as his chest tightened painfully, Siwon just had to twist the knife in his wounds.

“He thinks you're dead...”

If Sungmin truly believed that Jongwoon was dead, then there was no hope for him, there was no one to wait for. But Sungmin had a tenacious personality, he wouldn't just take someone's word for it. He would want proof of his lover's death. Jongwoon believed that Sungmin would still be searching for him or at least his body to confirm his death.

“I'm right here, Sungmin. I'm still here!” Jongwoon whispered to himself.

The only positive thing about Siwon's barb to Jongwoon at the breakfast table was the confirmation that Sungmin was alive. Jongwoon had only caught a glimpse of Sungmin being dragged away. He wasn't sure if his lover had been killed or captured by the enemy. He wasn't sure if he was about to be tortured or executed, but Siwon's cocky attitude reassured Jongwoon. Sungmin was alive and well and the only thing keeping them apart was the misinformation that Jongwoon was already dead.

Jongwoon wiped the tears staining his cheeks and exhaled, he had hope again. He believed that he would be reunited with Sungmin, but he couldn't just sit here passively.

“This time I'll come to you. I'll find you.” Jongwoon swore to the empty room.

“Were none of the clothes to your liking?” A gentle voice called out from behind him.

Jongwoon jumped in his seat and looked down at his hands bashfully, afraid that Geng might have overheard him speaking to himself.

“I'm... I'm more comfortable in my own clothes.”

His own clothes being the rumpled and blood stained mess of an outfit that he had been wearing on the day he was separated from Sungmin. Even though he had washed it several times, he still couldn't get the blood out, but it was the only thing he owned. He lost everything else that day.

Han Geng hummed to himself. “You have such a small frame that even my clothes are too large on you. I'll try to bring you some new clothes when I make the next grocery run.”

Jongwoon wrapped his arms around his chest, he didn't want their charity. “You needn't go through so much trouble for me.”

“It's no trouble at all you're a guest here.”

“If I were a guest, you'd allow to me leave, right?”

The corners of Geng's lips turned downward, but the tone of his voice remained cordial. “Of course you're a guest, but...”

“If I were a guest you wouldn't keep me here against my will!” Jongwoon cried.

“Jongwoon-ssi, it's not safe...”

“Not safe for whom?”

Jongwoon knocked the porcelain lamp off the nightstand and watched with grim satisfaction as it shattered into countless pieces. After all, that's how things should be – loud, messy, and broken. That was his reality, not this fake sense of security being “protected” against his will by “hosts” that were neither his friends or allies.

“Jongwoon-ssi, even though the world thinks you are dead, they're desperately searching for something. Something you had or something you might have taken. Do you have any idea what is it?”

“Why would I have anything that matters to people like you? I'm just a...”

“Photographer,” Siwon sauntered through the bedroom door and cut Jongwoon off mid-sentence. “One who has the knack for being in the wrong place at the wrong time, but your bad luck works out in my favor.”

Jongwoon fur