Solitude. Sungmin had found it in the mountains, but he had yet to decide whether it was a blessing or a curse. He was used to being alone, heck, he preferred being alone; but the empty space around him was suffocating and the headaches were getting worse. There were shadows of memories echoing through his mind that he would instinctively react to even though they had no form. He would subconsciously reach out for someone or something that should have been right beside him, but it was nothing more than smoke, an illusion in the air.

Sungmin was expecting to regain some clarity, but his last assignment was still a blur to him. He slowly mulled over the sequence of events in his mind, but Sungmin was still unable to recall an image of his target. Kangin had confirmed the completion of his mission, but it was all a blank to Sungmin; he was missing a chunk of his life and it left a bitter taste on the tip of his tongue.

Sungmin was driving himself crazy after a week alone with no assignments and no calls. He doesn't know when he lost it, his sense of purpose and determination. His nights were cold and his days were restless. He couldn't see it anymore, the light at the end of the tunnel. He was staring into an abyss and all he could glimpse was darkness. Sungmin glared up at the ceiling with his arms spread wide and palms turned upward as if he were waiting for an epiphany to rain down on him. If it were only so simple, to be able to capture blurry memories like cold droplets of water in his open hands.

His short term goal was to free himself of that godforsaken hospital and all the drugs that were slowly addling his mind, but now that his system was freed from drugs, everything was suddenly a little too clear. He was alone in a long forgotten safe house with nothing to think about other than how his life had managed to spiral into the shadows so swiftly. He had a goal once, his work had meaning, he was always working his way towards that one person that he had always admired, that one person that he had always wanted, but things were different somehow. His life had come to a halt and he was avoiding that very person that he had always strived to emulate. He wasn't sure how long it would be before Kangin thought of this place and came after him, and he wasn't sure if it would hurt more or less if Kangin were never to think of it at all.

Sungmin snarled at himself, the last thing an assassin wanted to do was get sentimental, because that was a surefire way to get dead. He stared out the cabin window, it was about time he started moving again, because the world wasn't going to stop for him. Life would go on, whether Kangin was a part of it or not.

“Answer me honestly or your friend dies.”

Jongwoon stretched uncomfortably, but Sungmin still had him in a vice-like grip. He felt his wrist go numb while Han Geng and Sungmin stared each other down. This had to be some kind of sick joke, but he couldn't tell because Sungmin wouldn't make eye contact with him. It hurt so much to be so close yet so far at the same time. Jongwoon stared at Sungmin's face, trying to will the blonde to turn towards him. His dark lashes and plush lips were still the same, but there were shadows under his eyes and his cheeks were a little shallow. The time they had been separated hadn't been easy on Sungmin either.

Jongwoon clenched his free hand, he wanted to reach out and touch that familiar visage just to confirm that Sungmin was real and to assure himself that this was neither a dream nor a mirage. He extended his hand before he could control himself, his voice broke out in a hoarse whisper, “Look at me Sungmin, please”

Jongwoon regretted his actions immediate