Kyungsoo takes another swing from the glass and lets himself bring it down upon the table with a bang. The incessant buzz of chatter and the constant boom of the subwoofer does little to drown the annoying voices in his head. He taps the glass against the countertop.

"Rough day?" Luhan asks, pausing to look at Kyungsoo's intent eyes before refilling the glass. Kyungsoo lets out a sigh, drumming his fingers on the mahogany in a sequence.

"Tell me about it," he groans, running his hand through his hair. Luhan pats his shoulders.

"Still haven't caught them then?" Kyungsoo shakes his head. Luhan whistles. "I read they found another one dead? What's that now? Five?"

"Six...." Says Kyungsoo grimly. Luhan rubs his chin thoughtfully.

"It's kinda sick you know... killing all those women.... I guess you don't know if its a man or a woman. Is it even safe out there...?" Kyungsoo takes another swing, downing the rum in one gulp, the burn at the back if his throat bring tears to his eyes. He clinks the glass wordlessly with his nails. Luhan fills it up and moves to a woman sitting a little away. The said woman looks over at him and batters her eyelashes, simpering. Kyungsoo politely returns a tight lipped smile and takes another swing from his glass.

"Hello," he hears a murmur a moment later. Kyungsoo resists the urge to slam his head on the bar. The woman, in a voice that he is sure is three octaves lower than her normal, continues, "mind if I sit down...?" Kyungsoo gives a light nod of his head. She does, bending forward and Kyungsoo stares at his drink, as the neck of her red dress dips too much. He does not need this now. "You a cop?" His gaze drops down to the side of his trousers where his badge is clipped on.

"No, detective."

"Oooo," she bites her lower lip slowly, letting her teeth drag over it. "That's kinda hot." There's an increasing buzz inside Kyungsoo's head, whether from the rum or exhaustion, he doesn't know.

"Really now?"

"Yeah, I mean what woman doesn't love a man with a badge and a gun." She twirls her hair between her thumb and index finger. The headache is getting progressively worse as Kyungsoo tries to maintain some semblance of politeness while she tries his patience. The constant buzz in his head is now at the pinnacle of unbearable. Not now, he thinks to himself, I don't need this now. He flexes his neck and loosens his tie, while she takes it to be a signal for proximity and edges close enough to have their legs pressed together. The noise in his head can only be described as angry as she murmurs something about the recent killings. Kyungsoo doesn't realize when his knuckles have turned white with his death grip on the glass. She takes a moment to trail her finger down his arm and he finally snaps, crushing the frail tumbler in his palm. The sound of breaking glass barely makes any impression upon him. His senses have had a dull filter cast over them. Almost as if he's watching it happen to another person, he notes the scratches on the skin of his palm and the fragmented remains of the glass on the table as Luhan rushes forward to clean it up. The other patrons give him a wide berth as he rises with apologies, leaving behind extra money to pay for the glass.

"I could drive you home," he feels her fingers close around his biceps and the overpowering smell of her floral perfume.

"I'm fine."

"Or we could go to my place, it's closer..." She puts a hand on his chest, getting too close to his face. Kyungsoo screws his eyes shut and reminds himself to be calm.

"I'm fine actually, and," he adds, pushing he away to an arms distance, "I'm taken."

The night air is cold inside his lungs, he gulps in a few large breaths, realizing how stuffy the bar was, with breaths of hundreds of people amalgamated in the air. Fresh air was good. Being on his own feet again was not. Every lamp post, every bush, every stone upturned turns into an obstacle. He swears the road is moving underneath his feet, causing him to lose his balance ever so offer and have his knees smash into solid concrete. This is not good. The annoying sound in his head is overpowering now, along with his dulled senses and clouded vision. He finds himself staggering and briefly clutching at air before his knees crash into the pavement. He doesn't need need this feeling tonight. He counts his steps, hoping to distract himself, and somehow his body turns him into a lane that is not his own and he raps his knuckles on a door that doesn't belong to him, but yet not unfamiliar.

She opens the door, in a state of sleep induced dishevelment, rubbing an eye on a knuckle. Kyungsoo has to only run his eyes over the red lips and the watery eyes before he pulls her upward by the collar if her shirt and smashes his lips against hers. He pushes her back, ignoring her muted gasp as he moves his lips against hers hungrily, tumbling through the door. The door slams shut with a kick of his heels, and Kyungsoo vaguely feels the taste of coffee mix with the alcohol from his mouth as his girlfriend grips his shoulders, trembling from the suddenness and force of it all. He lets her go and she staggers back from lack of air, not yet wholly awake or aware, gasping for air.

"Ky- Kyungsoo?" She blinks. "What are you even—? Have you been drinking?" He raises his eyebrows at her.

"Didn't you taste the rum?" She makes a motion to smack his shoulders.

"Arrgh, why do I even bother?!" She watches him rub his temples and notices the cuts on his hand. "What....?"

"Crushed a glass... It's okay, barely know it's there." She sees the tired, defeated look in his eyes and softens her voice.

"Want coffee?" Kyungsoo nods weekly, barely able to keep the pain in his head under control. How many glasses has he had again? She offers him a small smile and turns to leave. His body acting on its own accord Kyungsoo wraps his arms around her and places a kiss on her slightly bare shoulder. This definitely feels more comfortable than the bar. She looks at him in surprise. "Nice to see you too," she murmurs, detaching herself from him before she walks over to the kitchen.

Kyungsoo drops down on the couch, and sits splayed across it for a while allowing the smarting from his right palm to become the focus of his attention, anything would be better than the constantly of a loud, irritating chorus inside his head. Clearly the alcohol had not done it's job. Something nags him at the back of his mind.

'She's the one.'

He starts at the thought. Raising himself to a proper position, staring into the kitchen. Her shorts are barely visible under the oversized tee, was it his?

'She is the one.'

No, he muses, she is not, and he doesn't need this tonight. He cracks his knuckles and grits his teeth. His hands are turning warm and clammy, his breath turns shallow as he looks over to her again.

'She is the one.'

He tries reasoning with himself. No, he loves her, it can't be her.... anyone but her.... This is not the way it is going to play out. He tries suppressing the anger bubbling up, flexing his wrist and then closing his eyes. He tries humming a tune to distract himself......? The nagging in his head grows louder and louder until he can't hide the frustration anymore and slams his fists down upon the table.

She hears a growl and a crash simultaneously, whipping around to see Kyungsoo with his hands on the table, head lowered. She notices his body shaking, as he takes ragged breaths and raises his eyes.

"Come here," his voice is so low, so gruff and so foreign that she shirks back in fear. His eyes darken and take on a carnal look. "Come here," he repeats, this time in English, speech slightly lilted. She wonders if she's done something wrong and then walks towards him.

Kyungsoo seems to tower over her as he glowers at her. She drops her gaze to his shirt instead, unable to withstand the ferocity. With a sharp jerk of her chin, he presses his lips on hers again as she chokes out a protest. Damned be it all, curses Kyungsoo, as he runs his hands through her hair. She staggers backwards under his pressure, crushing the fabric of his shirt in her palms. The taste of rum still sits strongly on his tongue. His hand running over her the skin on her back causes her to tremble. In an intoxicated haze, he forgets his own strength, almost ramming her into a cupboard. She manages to break free for a second, lips a swollen pink.

"Kyung—"

He pins her to the glass, trapping her between his arms on either side of her head as she finds herself kissing him again, while his hands shift to her waist, gripping her thin frame so tightly it almost hurts her. He feels her shiver as he bites her lip, her hands curling around his shoulders. She feels his desperation, aware that for some reason he doesn't want to let go. She begins to shove at him, finally pushing him away when her air runs out.

"Jeez— Lord— Kyung.... soo...." She manages to choke out, repeatedly gasping for air. He straightens himself, and walks closer as she finds herself unable to move. He tucks in a stray strand of hair behind her ears and wraps his arms around her waist, burying his head in her shoulders. For a while she stands frozen, not knowing how to react and almost feeling him slip away, out of her comprehension. His breath comes out in jerks over her skin and she gingerly puts her head on his shoulders. "I'm sorry," he says, after what seems like an eternity. She pulls back, looking into his eyes, quailing under the anger in them.

"I'm sorry you're the one...." She stares at him uncomprehending, as his breath ghosts over her lips. He reaches into his trouser pocket.

"I'm sorry."

Jongin catches up to Kyungsoo early next morning as both detectives get their early morning cup of coffee. "They're calling it the Jack the Ripper of Seoul," mutters Jongin darkly, throwing the paper over to his partner. "Sensationalists."

Kyungsoo casts a customary glance over at the paper before taking a sip from his cup. "Any news from the office?"

"Nope... I hope we don't, I don't want to see another mangled body of some poor woman."

Kyungsoo picks up the paper and opens it, scanning the news. His head feels much better. It was for the best, he argues, remembering the slashing and cutting he'd seen his own hands inflict last night, almost as if controlled by another. The blood had taken some time washing off. They would find another body alright, in the bath, eyes gouged out because he couldn't possibly take the betrayed looks she gave him.... That and the incessant begging, and pleading and incomprehension..... She didn't understand, she never did, not even when she was bleeding out, clutching at his trousers like it was some sort of lifeline. Kyungsoo sighs inside.

"That's Sehun calling," Jongin says, "please don't let it be another body...."

Already? Thinks Kyungsoo. His tongue darts out and runs over his lips. Jongin utters a horrified gasp on the other side of the paper. Oh well, at least the voices were quiet for now, and if they stirred again, he'd always find another one.