September 2013
Sehun drums his fingers impatiently on the smooth leather of his silver sedan. He unconsciously hums a few bars of whatever repetitive song is playing on the radio but drops it mmediately because Sehun doesn't sing. His eyes scan the mass of people that are rushing around him, plastered smiles, clinking star-studded jewelry, pressed suits and fancy Italian shoes. His heart thumps wildly as he waits for the signal. Like every job he has ever gotten the nerve to accompany, the rushing blood is not adrenaline but worry. Concern. Worry. And all its synonyms.

In the corner of his eyes, he sees a glimmer of familiar black but dismisses the passing glance for a a more important figure. He spots a flicker of unnatural movement in the window of the passenger seat to his left and his heart seems to thud louder.

A hand slowly raises a black hood over a head of smooth brown hair. The hood is huge (as is a lot of clothing articles on this man) and has two thin branch-like extras sewn onto the top to make it look like alien ears. It's the signal. It's starting. 

Sehun exhales incredulously. He always wonders how nobody around him ever notices the hooded man, who is strangely dressed for such a prestigious formal event. On a regular day, all eyes would be roaming him and his delicate features. But such phenomenons could be easily explained with three words. Because it's Luhan.

Sehun's hand lies steady at the ignition key, ready to act. He breathes slowly. He can't mess up here. He never has but it's better to be on edge during jobs. He knows. Fate can flip in an instant.

Gunshot. Now.

He twists the key and presses the gas pedal. Gently first, ramming it next as people dived out of his way. He drives straight for where he is expected to be. Plastic chairs fly above and away as he bulldozes through the rows. Deftly handling the wheel, with precision that is often nagged as pure luck, he makes a screeching 90 degree stop and reach across to throw the passenger seat door open. As if on cue, the hooded figure jumps in and slams the door shut. Without command or a second look, he punches the gas and drives off, bullets pinging against the metal.

They aren't being followed since the attack was quite the surprise but he swerves through alleyways and corners just to make sure. His eyes squint in the rearview mirror for any signs of a tail or the red and blue of a siren. 

When they are miles away from the ruined reception, Sehun finally has the space to breath normally again. He looks at his partner, who has the silliest grin Sehun has ever seen glued to his face. 

"Another success?" He asks without much need for an answer.

The figure draws back his slightly childish hood and Sehun can feel the twinkling eyes bore into the side of his face. 

"Obviously. Nicked the dude right in the chest. A job well done if you ask me."

"You sound way too happy at offing a guy for your last job." Sehun scoffs.

He would've scowled but that's impossible. Because it's Luhan. 

"It's the same as all the other ones. Quite simple. And a smooth get away with you? I'm delighted." He states matter of factly.

"Now I'm out." He squeals and lifts the dark black hoodie over his lithe head.

Sehun keeps his eyes trained on the open road, driving normally now to avoid suspicion. He lets an arm drop off the wheel when the heavy sweater plops onto the back seat. The sweater is really heavy and now, it's off. Possibly forever but Sehun has his doubts. The people who gave the kill orders didn't want Luhan to leave the business; Luhan was the best. Stealthy. Undetected. Clean. 100% success rate. But nobody could really stop him from declaring retirement. Because it's Luhan.

Easing into the smooth ride in the city, Sehun can't help but turn to his partner again to take in his newfound glee. He smiles at the happy glows radiating off of Luhan's face, his peace and calm, but immediately frowns when he sees him clutching his arm and twitching. He pulls the sedan to a screeching halt at the roadside and they lurch forward roughly. Luhan curses as inertia settles but Sehun ignores it, grabbing his right wrist.

"What is this?" He hisses while Luhan gives a silent roll of the eyes at what's got him worked up. 

"A gunshot wound. Can't you see that? Now let go." Luhan snaps back, slapping Sehun's tight hold.

He releases the thin wrist and runs a hand through his blond, almost cream, hair. Luhan rubs the spot sorely with his uninjured hand and winces only once.

"It happens. Some cop nearby reacted fast and shot me. It just nicked me. I have a few old scars too. Do you want to get us in a car accident for that too? Seriously, it's not a big deal." Luhan scowls.

Sehun's about to protest but stops himself. Because it's Luhan. And there are cons about being in love with a master killer too; one being that Luhan had little care about his own body. He simply lets out a frustrated sigh and opens the glove box, revealing a first aid kit primed and ready. He flips the box open and rummages through for everything he needs-disinfectant, bandages, cotton, the usual. He sees the painkillers but decides against it because he's trying to teach Luhan a little lesson; no matter how useless it may seem. Initially, Luhan scuttles away at the cotton but a glare from Sehun makes him resign to the treatment. He finishes wrapping the bandage and Luhan has forgotten any sign of the little argument.

"Yah, Sehun. Let's celebrate." Luhan eagerly says, wide clear eyes staring into Sehun's dark worried ones. 

He can't resist the temptation because of that three word phrase again and the sparkling eyes that resemble stars a bit too much and the hopeful small mouth that's asking has the softest voice like air in the world.

"Where to?" He asks and an eyebrow. 

"I know perfect thing." He pauses for added effect, "Bubble tea."

Sehun leans back into his driver's seat and an unwilling smile reaches his lips. Luhan laughs loudly, sunshine spilling into the fresh city air. Soon, Sehun is also wildly laughing behind the wheel. The idea of a top assassin going giggles over some fruity drink and tapioca was drop dead ridiculous but Sehun couldn't have felt more natural. Bubble tea and a killer. For the past two years, it made perfect sense to him. 

Because it's Luhan.

----------

He calmly revs the car and listens to it's comforting purrs. It has been two days since Luhan's last job (and along with it, Sehun's participation) and nobody has made any attempts to kill them yet. With every precaution, like food testing and night watches, Luhan has been getting tired of his worries. They won't come. They're too scared. He keeps reminding him. The two reached Luhan's proposed celebratory place after staking out the neighborhood. Finally, they are going to buy the drinks.

From what Sehun knows, Luhan's love for bubble tea starts from long before they met. However, he spread the love the night they met. Sehun gazes drowsily at Luhan in the cafe as the older boy orders their usual drinks. The cafe was chosen because it was special, the place they first visited together.

----------

October 2011
Sehun is laughing his heart out, a cocky smile from ear to ear. It had been a bit of an easy win, with second place crossing the line a good few seconds after him. As with every drag race, the rush of x km/h still ran through him. Second place bitterly whacks a helmet to the floor and skulks into a tent but Sehun pays no attention. All the attention is on him. A spectator, out of nowhere, gingerly approaches him with congratulations b on his lips while Sehun dangles the large trophy on his finger. Everyone is drunk with happiness but Sehun wonders if he's ever been so entranced by another person till now. He breaks away from the commotion and the celebratory crowd lets him, focused on the shiny metal instead. They make easy conversation and Sehun is notedly more disheartened when Luhan leaves. 

"Congratulations again. Oh, and thanks." He says with a smile that makes Sehun topple.

He watches the boy sprint to a prep station and stands in awe. He moves to follow, and perhaps get a name and number, but people notice him and drag him back into the festivities. Stuck in the five minutes of conversation, Sehun finds himself dawdling by the same tent. The entrance is draped with only a small sliver that peeks through and confirms the strange boy's presence. Although he wears his hood, adorned with two stick up pieces that look like antennas, Sehun knows it's the same person who told him thanks. In the small tent, second place is also sitting in a chair and the two hold glares in a tight atmosphere.

Suddenly, the boy draws a small black shape and a definite muffled hiss rings. Sehun witnesses the body slump over, red trails trickling down metal legs. It takes him a while to realize the execution and inhales sharply at the revelation. Just then, a cold breeze sweeps through the racing grounds and the tent flaps whack him in the face. The slap sounds clearly and the boy snaps his head to look. 

Sehun holds a breath as the two lock eyes. There is no fear in either of them. One says 'I'm not afraid to look' and the other says 'I'm not afraid to shoot'. Nothing happens. No movement. No words. Just ragged breaths and the smell of iron. Sehun blinks because his vision is getting blurry...with tears? Either that or the boy holding the trigger is shaking and that doesn't really make sense. He wipes the salt away and finds that both are true; there's water in his eyes and the beautiful boy's raising unsteady hands at him, pressed into the gun.

Something feels funny to Sehun. A strangled laugh threatens to break the silence but he swallows it down. I look crazy if I do, he laughs inwardly, but I feel crazy already. He stares down the barrel of a vibrating gun and all he can think of is how gorgeous.

He's never had a death wish, no matter what people whisper about his occupation. The racing is there because he enjoys rushing by the world and feeling such a loud beast under his control. There's simply nothing that scares him about this boy and his wide eyes and soft pale skin. No. Judging by the urgent and deathly depressing look in his eyes, one that absorbs pain and seems to hold it all in- this is not a boy. This is a beautiful killer. He delivers quick deafening pain and flirts with death. And Sehun is okay with that. 

They are still staring, sizing each other up, when the repetitive whine is heard in the distance. A brief flash of panic across the face is all Sehun needs to dart forward and wrap his steady fingers around a small wrist. He jerks the slender body forward (given Sehun's own skinny stature, that says a lot), making the boy stumble a few feet, and runs out of the tent towards his parked car. There is barely anybody now, the racetrack filled with only tire marks and confetti and the crowds replaced with litter. He doesn't know who called the police but doesn't care. It's the least of his thoughts.

He throws the surprised boy into his blue Acura sports wagon and slams the door. His brain doesn't think and only his body acts as he jams the key in, turns, and starts the engine. The boy looks at him confused and shock and Sehun must have the same expression on because his body is rigid and tense. Only when they hit the main road that he settles into his coffee colored leather seat, but the boy isn't easily dispelled and shoots daggers in his glare. His awkward pose indicates his suspicion, although the gun is at his lap, and he pushes himself into the car door. For a second, Sehun wonders why the boy's so wary when he's the one with a weapon. They continue the aimless drive in silence. Unspoken words hang in the air and Sehun quickly questions his own sanity. The obvious smell of blood radiates in the car while the radio blasts a pop song. In the back of his cluttered head, he makes a note to search up 'how to get rid of blood stains in leather'.

"Turn here." The mysterious killer finally says with the same airy voice that said congratulations a few hours ago.

Sehun wordlessly complies with the driving instructions and the boy relaxes with every correct turn. They finally reach a long stretch of shops in the middle of the city. Sehun stares bewildered at the bloody sweater as it opens the door. Was he really going to waltz into a store like that? After a few seconds of standing awkwardly, the boy turns and leans in through the car window. Here, Sehun regains a normal mindset and flinches away. The boy looks slightly offended and bites his lower lip.

"Uh...thanks? Again. You're a weird kid." He says. 

There is a difference in his attitude from earlier on. At first meeting, he spoke easily and acted with reverence, like a kid meeting his hero. And now, he speaks his age, sounding older and wiser just using the simple phrase 'kid'. Sehun doesn't reply and just stares, baffled or intrigued he's not sure. The boy stands up again and turns to face what Sehun notices to be a bubble tea shop. Shaking his head, he changes gears from neutral to drive but his stopped once again by a pair of hands gripping the window sill.

"By the way, my name is Luhan."

----------

September 2013
Luhan turns from the cashier briefly to flash a satisfied smile at Sehun. Their eyes meet and Sehun feels a jittery shiver coming from the pit of his stomach. He compares it with the moment two years ago when he visits the same store the day after their first meeting. Different looks, different situations, the same incredibly excited feeling of being perched on a cliff with only Luhan's hand to keep him from dropping. Everything to gain. Everything to lose. 

Sehun finds his own past reckless courage commendable and smirks in the mirror. What made him comply to secretly meeting with a killer and then consequently date him, escapes his comprehension. Sometimes Luhan scares him, battered and bloodied with a target plastered to his back and people muttering kill kill kill, and Sehun thinks he shouldn't stay anymore, can't bear to watch. But he decidedly remembers every jolt of electric passion they've ever shared, every second of supportive hugs and soothing cuddles, every night of hushed murmurs of dreams past the red, and he wonders how they could ever be anything but together. He's stopped trying to figure it out for a long time already. There's really no other explanation other than because it's Luhan and Sehun accepts that. Now, he doesn't care about Luhan's dangerous occupation. He has a shaky one himself, with all his close calls and accidents that make Luhan punch him, then crush him with a hug.

Suddenly, a black SUV pulls up beside him and gives a few honks. White skin form at his knuckles from overstraining. No. No. No. Sehun tenses but maintains no expression, appearing as deadbeat as possible, turning to his right. 

"Yo Sehun! Haven't seen you around!" A young voice booms from the car and Sehun breaths a bit easier but not really.

You never know in this business.

"Sup, Kai?" Sehun asks while attempting to mask a squeak. 

He gets no response and Sehun instinctively knows that something is wrong with the tanned boy. He sees the deep rings around the poor sap's broken eyes and his weary body language. But he can't afford to spend too much sincerity with him. Luhan is in the store. Sehun has other pressing matters to worry about than tending to the guy's tears, like getting Luhan to safety. Nonetheless, something inside him, perhaps gut instinct or a rebel's intuition, is pushing to hear the sob story.

"I'll tell you later." Kai bites his lower lip.

Sehun nods briskly, scared that the irregular erratic pulse of his heart is bleeding through. There are three reasons for this. One is that lumpy feeling for not caring a bit more for such a pitiful looking fellow. Second is because of that gut wrenching fear for Luhan who's still patiently waiting for their drinks. Third because Kai is a little bit of Sehun's ex-crush and gosh, his full lips are still quite the turn on. 

Sehun and Kai have known each other vaguely for seven years. Kai is a fellow racer, a contender that could keep up with Sehun's crazy speed and tricks. They aren't at the point of friends but not strangers either. Maybe respected rivals in their minds. But he held an innocent liking to the guy the second they fought for first place. The rush was incredible, never felt before thrill. There was nothing else but the road. His blood was pounding even after the split second finish. Stepping out and finding such a handsome, toned man gave it an extra little push and Sehun had actually blushed when Kai stepped over to say 'great race'. The silent affair is a thing of the past. Now, they sometimes grab a drink if they see each other and gush about their shallow love problems but only to the point of 'my guy's such an idiot' and nothing more.

"Are you busy?" He asks over his engine. 

Kai really looks like a house of cards. One blow and he can fall. Sehun glances back at the shop and answers back a guilty yes. He shouldn't get distracted, he thinks grimly. Anything can happen. 

"I'm waiting for someone." Sehun explains, watching Kai's face fall. The first hit of many, he expects. 

He tilts his head down in acknowledgement and faces the road, a frighteningly determined look on his face. Sehun recognizes the cracked, despair-filled eyes and keeps them ingrained in his head as Kai drives away.

The doorbells jingle and Sehun reaches for the clutch. Luhan plops down on the seat and throws the chocolate drink in Sehun's lap, sipping away at his own purple concoction. 

"Maybe it's because this is that place but the bubbles are amazing." Luhan absentmindedly quips, taking in a big mouthful. 

Sehun pierces the thin plastic and gulps down a few himself. It tastes heavenly against his tongue and reminds him of solely Luhan, black SUV and guilt forgotten. Bubble tea always does that. The cold refreshing flavor with orbs of chewy surprise reflected Luhan well. Sehun sets down his plastic cup in the designated area and continues to drive.

"Let's go home?" He suggests to which Luhan warmly mumbles a yes.

There are really no other plans for the day because now they're so free. Time is no longer compromised of the next job and stitching up wounds to make room for new ones.

Sehun is itching to go home quickly. There is an envelope sitting on the kitchen table and he is vibrating with anticipation to see Luhan's smile grow wider. He planned to surprise him. Having accumulated quite a bit of money off of racing, Sehun had bought tickets to China, Luhan's hometown. Originally, they were an escape plan but now, they were a vacation.

The prospect of leaving behind the city produces a tingle in his heart and Luhan looks at him in unyielding amazement, wondering why he's so happy suddenly. The streetlight turns red and Sehun finds himself counting the seconds. He releases the wheel and taps his thigh in anticipation. He can't contain his excitement. Everything feels like rainbows and clouds and Luhan's smile. 

An idea sparks and Luhan twists around, reaching for the dark sweater in the back seat once again. He unfolds and holds up the sweater gingerly, blocking Sehun's view of one of his rearview mirrors.

"Let's burn this." Wrinkling his nose, Luhan proposes. 

"What?" Sehun asks, slightly taken aback by the proposition but understanding intent, "are you sure you don't want to frame it? It's kind of your legacy."

Luhan shakes his head vigorously and drops the mass of black fabric in his lap, as if the weight of it returns. He leans back into his chair, sighing at life. Briefly Sehun wants to chuck the piece of clothing out the window but he is left gaping past Luhan instead.

He stares down the barrel of a gun and this time, a chilling grip holds his soul. 

Color drains from his face. Eyes burn the scene into his head. Pedestrians. Red light. Rays of light glimmering off of glass. Talking. Shopping. Gas burning. Kai. Gun. Luhan. His heart skips several beats. Nausea and bile burn in the back of his throat. Time halts over the trigger. An arm automatically reaches out over his left. He has to protect. Protect. Protect.

He pushes Luhan's head down roughly and time groans on. The bullet grazes his forearm, right where Luhan's head used to bob, inches in front his own nose and passes through the driver window. Glass erupts near his ear. Everyone hears the ping of bullet on metal on the street and chaos erupts. Luhan swears aloud twice, at Sehun's roughness and the bullet, hands flying defensively above his head still holding his godforsaken drink. Sehun doesn't think, ignores every panicked scream coming through his broken window, and steps on the accelerator. His near brush with death pales with seeing Luhan's. 

His arms is burning but he can't fully comprehend anything to care. All he thinks of is that Luhan's being targeted now and that he needs to get him to safety.  He traces the train of thought and laughs at his own hopeless behavior. 

Why was he okay with Luhan being an assassin but still begged him to leave the job? It wasn't Luhan's pointless killing that told him to leave. It was losing Luhan to the coldness that told him to leave because his own mind wouldn't function anymore of Luhan disappeared one day.

All he wants, all he needs, is for that fluffy head to stay happy and safe. Because it's Luhan. And that's an acceptable answer.

In the background, he's distantly aware that Luhan's still swearing profusely in confusion and anger. His frail and delicate hands fumble at the revolver in his sweater pocket and he clutches it for the first time in two days. There is a familiarity in Luhan's actions that makes Sehun's heart sink a little.

It's hard to break a habit.

He doesn't focus on this for long, that's hazardous thinking. Instead, Sehun's focus narrows to the road rushing beneath him, the road signs that whiz by in a blur. Asphalt crunches as he glides across, cruising down the streets while dodging left and right. His mind runs through the city map detailed in his head, pinpointing where he is and where he'll go. He eyes the alleys hungrily. He can escape the chaser.

The chaser. The cop. Kai. Kai?

"What the hell!" He roars to the air. 

"I don't know! What the fricking hell! Who the fricking hell!" And Luhan's strained voice gets through.

Then he remembers that flash of familiar black at the ceremony and wants to slam his head against the wheel. Kai was there. 

"He's a fricking cop!?" Sehun yells his thoughts out again. 

He doesn't filter his words when he's driving. Every thought just gushes out.

"That was a cop?" Luhan shrieks, "WHAT THE ACTUAL !?"

That's when Sehun knows Luhan's panicked.

-----------

He slams the door and darts inside first, making a beeline straight to the emergency staircase of their apartment. He takes them two at a time and reaches the third floor easily. Blood boiling, he continues running with no decrease in stamina. Time was crucial. Despite Luhan's objections, he runs in blindly. Nobody's waiting for them. Luhan closes the door with his foot, cautiously eyeing the hallway.

"We have to pack." Sehun hisses through clenched teeth, running into the bedroom to get a bag.

He spots the white envelope with the word surprise scrawled on in capital letters. Seething, he snatches it before Luhan notices and stuffs it into his jacket pocket. Not now. He can't show it now. He might start crying. He shouldn't do that. Not now. 

Luhan follows him into the room silently and Sehun sees him pocket the gun in his peripheral. Both of them stuff clothing into bags with efficient calm. Both of them had come to terms with doing this at some point in their lives- picking up and running away. The wound on his forearm trickles fresh blood down his pale skin and he gruffly wipes it away. Luhan catches the action and grabs his arm.

"And what, pray tell, happened here?" His smooth voice is hardened and icy, enough for Sehun to wince.

"A gunshot wound. Can't you see that?" He replies mockingly, more cynical than he intended, letting the older's bony grip lead him to the washroom. 

"Hah." Luhan retorts, not looking at him in the face.

He kicks open the bathroom door and slumps Sehun down on the toilet seat. Luhan opens the cabinet and fishes out the necessities- bandages, disinfectant, cotton, the usual. Sehun braces himself for the sting but Luhan is relentless with the alcohol and a small gasp comes out.

"Baby brat. Trying to be all tough." Luhan purrs.

"You're fricking rough." He growls back.

Luhan rolls his eyes and wraps the wound gently. Ghosts of his cold fingers hover on Sehun's forearm and he twitches towards the lingering touch. Luhan stands and whacks Sehun's forehead sharply.

"Don't go fixing me up and not expect the same." He angrily demands and then his voice falters to a whisper, "You brat, don't take a bullet for me. Don't make me regret dragging you into this."

Luhan's eyes are glossy and although his mouth is in a  frown, Sehun can see the trembling body that's about to collapse. So he stands up, towering over the older one, and holds him by the shoulder gently as if he was dealing with a puppy. Because it's Luhan and Luhan can break sometimes. It's little pieces at first but they are always chipping away at him, giving him small holes here and there. Sehun had finally put back enough pieces together to bring hope of escape in their lives. 

"Idiot. You can't drag me anywhere. I'm coming along for the ride, idiot." He mutters the last word three more times. 

He feels the desperate arms wrap around him and embrace him hungrily. The bandages on his upper arm rub against leather jacket. Sehun responds with his own skinny arms to blanket the fragile body. Luhan buries his head in the crook of his neck, heaving sobs disguised as deep breaths. Breathing in lilac shampoo and fresh air dust, Sehun soothingly kisses the smooth chocolate colored hair. Luhan's a fairy with plucked wings and Sehun rubs the scars away. That's how it works in times like these. The two press closer warmly and only stops when a crinkle of paper is heard. Luhan leans back and scrunches his face at the younger's broad chest. Sehun purses his lips. Plan A it is.

"Let's run away." He says, arms still guarding the boy.

Eyes flicker up in hope but are immediately hardened. Sehun knows why but he doesn't want to face it just yet.

"They won't stop." Luhan is on the verge of tears but he won't cry, they both know, "we have to fight out. We can't run out or else they won't stop. I think that cop saw me at the ceremony. Unless I silence him, we're going to forever be running. Forever be hunted."

The cop knows me too, Sehun thinks dimly but doesn't say anything. Luhan's already unstable and adding to it is not on his to-do list. Wide almost black eyes diminish as wiry arms push away from Sehun's pleading grasp. He wants to argue back but he knows Luhan's right. The frozen scene flashes back to mind. The hunger and thirst for blood down that gun couldn't be hindered. 

"I'll get the guns. You go pack the food."

Luhan's instructions finalize their course of action and Sehun shuffles out with his head hung low, defeated.

----------

"HE IS FRICKING CRAZY! YOU ARE FRICKING CRAZY!" Luhan shouts as the wind whips his hair into a snakelike frenzy.

Sehun's mouth is in a hard line, concentrated on the winding and narrow alley that is throwing garbage and newspaper at them. He searches for difficult paths with his eyes and scrolls down the map for an exit in his head. Kai is hot on their tails, mimicking dangerous feat after feat to keep up with them. Sharp 90 degree turns. Random abrupt u-turns. Running every red light and stop sign. Even ramming their car from behind when he can. Sehun can't help but smirk in all his nervousness. The rush was back.

"DON'T. GO. ENJOYING. THIS." Luhan screams, a hand squeezed onto the arm rest for dear life while the other holds a gun propped to the dashboard.

They hit a small pipe protruding from the ground, jump from their seats, land roughly, and metal hits earth with a loud dull thump. Luhan fumes at the impact but the driver pays no attention. He suddenly slows down as a they approach a dead end. Luhan's eyes flit back and forth from the cement wall to Sehun's curiously excited eyes.

"I haven't attempted this in a while." He breaths and dry thin lips.    

"What are you-" Luhan begins to warily ask until Sehun drives forward, causing a yell of "HAVE YOU LOST IT?"

To the right of the dead end, there is another narrow alleyway, enough for one car to pass. Sehun drives forward and shifts gears. He presses down on the gas and holds a breath. The needle climbs. 6000. 7000. Tires screech and smoke rises. 8000rpm. Sehun inhales and exhales as the red needle vibrates in place. Then he changes pace and shift gears, wiggling the wheel while pushing on the brake. Every movement is calculated and precise. He feels the tip. The car begins to pivot and Sehun grins. Luhan has grown silent. They manage the right angle turn and Sehun punches the gas, right before Kai comes crashing at them. The sound of crushed metal recedes and the car runs out of the back alley onto the main street. The rearview mirrors dangle loosely on the sides and holes pilfer the silver metal but the car roars on.

"How...how many times have you done that?" Luhan asks, jaw dropping, gun lax. 

Sehun shrugs, wicked smile and eyes in the shape of crescents. He places a hand, shaky with adrenaline and nerves, over his chest. The safely tucked away plane tickets shift under the touch. Perhaps they don't have to throw them away yet. Luhan giggles into the palm of his hand and reloads his gun. There is that heart wrenching sight and heavenly sound again, a laughing boy with a gun. 

"You are awesome." He dreamily says, clicking the magazine into place, "I take back everything I said about your driving."

Sehun raises an eyebrow in triumph and heat fills his face. He should be used to this but he's still blushing like a twelve yea old. The two drive on in silence, each doing their respective jobs and assessing the damage. Sehun doesn't remember when it was during the whole chase that he got nicked with glass but pieces are sticking out of his shoulder. He holds in the waves of pain and groans every time he makes a turn, trying to do it with one hand instead. His eyes are tearing up but he blinks them back with the help of the wind. A few quick looks and his heart flutters because Luhan's also injured but looking so much stronger. 

There is that sad valiance again. Luhan, bloody and holding a gun closely while looking so weak and strong simultaneously. His form screams professional but his face reveals amateur. He knows Luhan does something stupid every time he fires a shot; he puts a bit of his heart in it. And that's also why Luhan can't be a killer anymore. Why Sehun begged him to stop one night. Because soon Luhan will run out of heart and with it, his radiance, smile and warmth. Because it's Luhan and Luhan can still love the world.

"Actually," Sehun clears his shaky dry voice, "I have a little surprise."

He could say it now. He should. 

Luhan looks up from his grazed forearm, a bruise forming at his chin where he hit the door frame, and gazes expectantly at Sehun. There is no hint of the murderous aura that oozed as he shot at Kai. Sehun returns the loving stare and shifts, emotions climbing up. He feels compelled to say everything at once but restrains because that's not Sehun. Luhan really did wear his heart on his sleeve and wasn't afraid to say it. Sehun was definitely more of a man of action. 

"I bought these tickets-"

And nothing else comes out because there's a strong force pummeling him from the side, driving in the glass shards and breaking one or two ribs immediately. Metal bends and groans into him, piercing thinly veiled skin. All he can think is pain, pain, pain, pain, pain. Fire sears through his body, his brain, and it all hurts. He has no chance to scream. Something hard hits his head and he temporarily blacks out. Dying doesn't register as fast as the shrill screeching voice that's crying his name.

Because it's Luhan's.