Kyungsoo was bored. That, and a little bit tired.

He was a receptionist at a hotel. He worked odd shifts, but was often stuck on nights. Five years ago he’d been heading to university, full of promise and expectations, and now he was here. Stuck. 

He sighed as he leant his jaw into his hand.

The hotel surrounding him had the feeling of a bookstore or coffee shop. Wood lined the walls and the floor had a sleek carpet lining while the ceiling drew itself back from the space. Chandeliers were strung from the pale creamy painted roof while soft yellow lamps gave the building a soft and silent atmosphere. Even the people that came here gave the same impression- never speaking above talking, sometimes barely even enough to be whispers as they came and went. 

Kyungsoo took their details and gave them their keys.  And that’s how he did his job. There was little room for deviation or error and as such the spice of variety was cut away from his taste. He didn't crave it anyway so what did he care if he did the same thing every day?

Even so, he had heard that “strange” people would visit the hotel. Doll makers and taxidermists with politicians and celebrities alike. Honestly Kyungsoo spent so little time in the mainstream that he knew little of what was happening outside the heavy doors and didn’t care much for it. It wasn’t his place to judge who wanted a room.

It felt as if the hotel would welcome anyone. Kyungsoo mused that he thought of it as a higher being instinctively rather than a building.

It was 2:43 am when the doors opened, surprising Kyungsoo a little. He wasn’t expecting anyone until Miss Seohyun would come in with her cases of marionettes- due to arrive nearly an hour later. He woke himself up with a shake of his head and straightened himself. A dark figure had entered and was pulling a case behind him.

“Hello sir, how may I help you today at the Brass hotel?” Kyungsoo rolled the phrase out as smoothly as any other time he’d said it. His tone grew higher as he tried to muster some friendliness at such an early hour.

“Room for one, please.” A husky voice greeted his own as the figure before the receptionist finally looked up. Deep eyes bore into Kyungsoo, driving out from underneath a thick black fringe that fell over the man’s eyes, ever so slightly. He had a slight smirk as he reached into his trench to retrieve his leather wallet. He had a rolling suitcase with a messenger bag balanced heavily on the top. Kyungsoo stifled a yawn.

“Room 27 is available for your use sir; please may I take your credit card information?”

The man handed over the card without so much as a word, and Kyungsoo processed all the paperwork as diligently as any other time before handing the card and some sheets back over the counter.

As he turned around and reached for the key card for the suite he heard a sound that was almost unfamiliar to him- a ringtone. He almost wheeled around in surprise to the noise before remembering himself. He took the key card down and turned around to see the man fumbling in his pockets for his mobile phone.

He took it out and swiped the screen to answer the incoming call.

“Sehun what is it? Yes I got here okay.”

Kyungsoo thought it was slightly out of place for the man to be using his phone but just stood behind the counter, ready for when the guest would acknowledge him again.

“No. No. Look, just let me sleep. Yes I know I said that, but you said you wouldn’t root through my cupboards either. There’s a lock for a reason… No, I don’t trust you. I’m hanging up and I’ll have the shots on your desk by next month, okay? I promise. Yes, goodnight.”

The man returned his phone with a sheepish grin. 

“Room 27, sir.” Kyungsoo reminded him.

Kyungsoo felt like he should say something about disturbing other guests with the phone but no-one was going to complain. He handed over the key card before bowing slightly and sitting back down on his stool. The man gathered everything up and headed towards one of the ornate staircases. His wheels clacked a little between each step and with that the man faded into the passages of the ageing building.

Kyungsoo sighed and put his head back into place on top of his hand, looking out of the windows to the street outside. The suburban world looked in on him and found him quaint, if nothing else. He was as much a part of the hotel as the furniture. The streetlights glowed into bright orbs as sheets of drizzle began to descend.

Kyungsoo saw the odd person hurry past and thought of them. Did they have family? Friends? Where were they going? Where were they coming from? Such thoughts occupied his mind until Miss Seohyun came in. He checked her in and bade her goodnight. 

At 6 a.m. Minseok came to take over from him and he walked home in the faint blue haze that signalled dawn’s arrival. He thought no more of the man he had met last night.

------------------------------------------------[ THE FINE GAME OF NIL]----------------------------------------------------

Kyungsoo awoke at 9pm. Again he would be taking the night shift and he blinked heavily at the thought. Sleep clung to his legs as he forced himself to cook a meal and dress in the standard uniform of the Brass. He donned black trousers then a thickly striped white and brown shirt before putting on a dark brown waistcoat. He parted his hair to the side, noting how the sides would need to be shaved again in a fortnight. 

His fingers passed over small circular glasses and ghosted over the frames. He hesitated for a moment before putting them in his pocket.

He stepped out from his flat into the air that was growing colder with autumn’s strengthening grasp. He tightened his grip on his bag and adjusted his scarf. Night was claiming the streets that were glossy with last night’s rain from the grasp of day, draining the endless blue away. 

He slipped into the hotel, wary of the creaking of the huge letters of “HOTEL BRASS” that stood above the entrance. He never trusted them, least of all with the weight of water atop them. He watched them warily for a few moments before heading into the lobby. He hung up his coat and cranked up the thermostat to compensate for the sudden chill outside. 

He greeted another employee, Yixing, before going to his post. He had a small fondness for the man- Yixing never spoke much and always had a smile present in his features even if the emotion wasn’t there. He seemed like he wandered through life and didn’t really need to take much in. 

Kyungsoo supposed that was just how some people lived.

The hours drifted by until the time crawled itself into being at 11:44 p.m. People bustled by the windows and Kyungsoo watched them pass into oblivion. His mind dreamt of a world where they didn't exist beyond his vision and thought what it must be like to be god.

The mysterious figure appeared again. Kyungsoo prayed the man wouldn’t talk to him- god knows he’d been so out of it last night he didn’t even try to remember the man’s name after checking his reservation. As the man came down the stairs, skipping lightly down the steps, he seemed to head for the reception. Kyungsoo tried to busy himself in documents all of a sudden and started muttering calculations.

“Good evening.”

Well, .

“Good evening, sir. How may I help you?” Kyungsoo smiled, trying to mask his wariness with a weak smile.

“Do you know anywhere picturesque near here?” the man asked, swinging his messenger bag over one shoulder as he propped and elbow up onto the counter with a strange grin across his face.

Kyungsoo thought for a moment.

“You could try near the docks? Or if you’re looking for urban scenery you can go downtown and I’m sure you can find something of note there, sir.” Kyungsoo had never had such a request before, so hoped the tourist spots he knew would be enough to satisfy the man, “It’s a little dark right now though, so I would suggest downtown as it has more light.”

“I’ll try downtown out, thanks. Can you call me a taxi, please?” he asked.

“Of course, sir.” Kyungsoo resisted the urge to crack a joke and instead just rang one up. The taxi company informed him it would be 20 minutes which he confirmed before hanging up.

“It will be a 20 minute wait, sir. May I suggest waiting on one of our sofas?” Kyungsoo gestured to the chocolate fake leathers that studded the foyer, past the staircase.

The man nodded and turned but paused, if only for a second. He didn’t turn back but Kyungsoo didn’t miss the intention. The moment passed and the man sat down.

Kyungsoo figured he may as well start totalling the takings for that month as the papers were out. It was a few days from the end, but adding a few more days would be far easier than having to do it all again. He double checked every calculation before moving onto the next. He was at the 15th when he felt himself being watched.

He couldn’t explain the feeling well but it was definitely there. He felt his shoulders stiffen.

He heard a cough from over the other side of the foyer and looked up to see the other man quickly look down, pulling equipment out of his bag. There was a tripod, lens and finally a camera appeared. 

Kyungsoo was unfamiliar to say the least- other kids at school had taken his picture but rarely did he ever have much contact with them besides that. His parents and himself had lead different lives they never really bonded. Kyungsoo supposed that was just how things were sometimes. Once he'd felt kind of sad about it, but couldn't remember exactly why.

He looked back down and resumed his calculations. 

He only got to the 18th this time before another cough brought his attention up. He looked past the counter towards the couch that the man was perched uncomfortably on. This time the other man didn’t look away.

“May I help you, sir?” Kyungsoo enquired, interest in the other man dimming slightly as his impatience grew.

“Um, it’s been 20 minutes and, um, well… What are you doing?” the man asked. 

Kyungsoo took a breath. 

So he was one of those types. The type Kyungsoo couldn’t stand. The restless type that lived too fast and died too old. They ran through life, childishly becoming affectionate and bonding with other people. They let their passions explode out like fire and would tie everyone in with them before moving onto the next person.

Kyungsoo had encountered many in his life so far and found he could always breathe a little easier with them gone. He lived at a walking pace and he lived as a part of the hotel. He hated to call it fate but his existence was for how he was right now, like his path was to remain here until he died. He didn’t go out of his way to live as he wanted and he wasn’t going to start now. He decided to give the man the cold shoulder and hope he would go away soon.

Usually these kind of people didn't stay at the hotel. Kyungsoo thought for a moment why it had let him in at all before realising himself.

“I am recording the takings, sir. I am sure the taxi is held up in some traffic and will be with you shortly.” Kyungsoo didn’t want to think about the plausibility of heaving traffic at midnight but wasn’t going to give effort to any other explanation.

“Okay… Thank you.” The man quietened. Kyungsoo didn’t have to look up to know he was fiddling with his coat.

Kyungsoo finished up, leaving some notes for whoever would finish- probably Luhan or Minseok, and started on checking how many rooms they had free. A lot of their guests stayed for long periods of time, usually off of inheritance or their illustrious careers. Kyungsoo didn’t care as long as they paid their way and kept to themselves. Some guests were barely ever seen, as if they were ghosts; others spent time together such as floor 2 which had a weekly chess or bridge club.

Kyungsoo heard rumours of a séance on floor 4 but never cared to pursue them. They had seven rooms available, with four booked. Somehow, even though nobody really knew of the place, Brass was always filled yet had an open door to those that needed it. 

Kyungsoo was so engrossed in his thoughts that when he noticed black in his peripheral vision he flinched a little. Looking up he saw the man looking straight at him, analysing him, almost leaning over the counter.

“Yes?” 

“What’s your name?” the man asked. Kyungsoo hadn’t thought about the lack of nametags before. It hadn’t ever been a problem.

“Do Kyungsoo.”

“Kim Jongin.”

Somehow Kyungsoo already knew that. He suddenly thought of the paperwork for the room. He was an idiot for not just checking that while he could have.

“Is there anything else you need, sir?”

“You’re really beautiful.” Mr Kim’s eyes seemed to dilate as he leaned forward over the counter.

Seriously? Did he really think that would affect him? Kyungsoo knew he was no more beautiful than anyone else who was here. Although they each had their own attractions, all of the staff here were all inherently the same. They were small and carried the spirit of the hotel. Whatever they were in their own time was different, but here there was no reason to give out compliments for the standard.

“Thank you sir, shall I enquire about your taxi?” Kyungsoo danced around Mr Kim’s advances, not validating his moves in the slightest.

“…If it’s not too much trouble.” 

Mr Kim seemed a little put out. He straightened, pulled out his camera and started flicking through the settings. Although the dial tone was in one of Kyungsoo’s ears he could clearly hear the beeping from the camera in the other. Tch, effortlessly noisy.

Just then, the taxi arrived. It pulled up outside just before the telephone connected. Kyungsoo returned the handset to its holder and signified to Mr Kim that his transport had arrived. Mr Kim thanked him and left. 

Kyungsoo sighed. Those kinds of people just energy from him and made him unnecessarily frustrated. There was no escaping it so he had to deal with the aftermath. Honestly he hadn’t needed to check the rooms or check how much money they made in the first place. Yixing had done it twice incorrectly, Minseok 6 times correctly and Luhan half of once before he had realised he had no interest. There wasn’t much to do at the hotel that night other than wait.

Kyungsoo left a bell at the counter and went to go and dust the halls (putting the fact that Yixing had done them earlier out of his mind).

------------------------------------------------[ THE FINE GAME OF NIL]----------------------------------------------------

Mr Kim came back at 3 a.m. Or something like that, Kyungsoo wasn’t paying too much attention. He was polishing the desk when the doors opened and had no inclination to actually acknowledge the other man. He could’ve done it to have been polite, sure, but he didn’t want to.

The man crossed the foyer and reached the stairs before he turned back. Kyungsoo could smell a faint curl of alcohol drift over from his path. He made no comment.

Mr Kim turned after placing his foot on the first step. Kyungsoo mentally sighed, bending more into his polishing.

“Kyungsoo, do you play the fine game of nil?” he slurred, grinning.

“Excuse me?”

“Let’s figure it out and play sometime, okay buddy?”

And with that he ascended and was gone for the night. 

Kyungsoo went back to polishing, but the encounter had already began to burrow its way into his mind. What the heck did that mean?

------------------------------------------------[ THE FINE GAME OF NIL]----------------------------------------------------

Kyungsoo saw Mr Kim more and more over the next few days. Always coming and going, only occasionally staying with Kyungsoo for more than a minute or two.

The fine game was never discussed and Kyungsoo tried his hardest to dismiss it as the ramblings of a drunken man- but something about it had stirred his interest- a rare occurence. 

However, Kyungsoo was not familiar with following up his curiousity and, as such, had no idea how to go about it. He wasn’t sure whether to ask straight out or subtly hint towards it. Instead he pondered about the game for many an hour, even looked it up on the internet at the local library, to no avail. In fairness the internet connection was slow and a student desperately wanted his spot on the computer, so it wasn’t an in-depth search but Kyungsoo still remained clueless and that began to eat away at him. All the hours spent alone thinking began to build up and, even if it was rude, Kyungsoo was going to ask.

It was Wednesday two weeks later when things began to change. It turned out Kyungsoo didn’t even have to ask. For once he was working the afternoon shift with

Luhan and a delivery man came in with a package. He said it was to be delivered to a Mr Kim at room 27. Kyungsoo signed for the package on his behalf and headed upstairs. Luhan munched on candy alone, creating a pyramid out of the wrappers.

Something in the box rattled faintly as Kyungsoo carried it. As he walked through the corridors, feeling his feet sink slightly into the carpet with every step, Kyungsoo greeted guests coming out of their rooms and think about the contents of the box. When he finally got to Mr Kim’s room he had lost all interest and his arms ached.

He reached up and knocked firmly on the door twice.

There was a mumbling from inside followed by a loud crash and cursing. Kyungsoo heard someone shuffle towards the door before it stopped opposite the thick wood.

“Who is it?”

“Do Kyungsoo from reception. A package has arrived for you, sir.”

“Just a minute.”

The figure shuffled away.

Five minutes into the “minute” Kyungsoo’s arms were aching badly. He considered leaving the box, but with the lack of CCTV he didn’t exactly want to be held accountable for it if Ms Lee decided to come out and add more things to her “collection”. 

The door creaked open to a dishevelled Mr Kim in pilots goggles. Ignore it, Kyungsoo, you're not paid to give a damn.

“The package, sir.” Kyungsoo held it out. Mr Kim dumbly held up his black plastic gloves, dripping some liquid onto the carpet.

And then gestured for Kyungsoo to come in and set it down. 

Mentally groaning, Kyungsoo went inside and sought out the table that was inside every room only to find it gone. He turned around to find Mr Kim had done quite the same, until he heard shuffling in the bathroom. He found the door draped in a thick black sheet and briefly wondered if satanic rituals were his thing. 

He was about to lift the corner when he adjusted the box, making the contents inside rattle. There was a momentary pause in the air before a roar came from inside the room.

“DON’T YOU DARE COME IN HERE BELLBOY! I’LL MAKE YOU A BELLWOMAN! BE GONE WITH YOU! SHOO!”

Kyungsoo was less than impressed, set the box down next to the door and left. He didn’t need to know what was going on, what was in the box or why Mr Kim was dressed like that. In fact, he’d rather not know. But, as he was coming down the stairs to reception he saw a white haired man frantically pacing. And he had another sinking feeling.

“Can I help you, sir?” he cautiously asked, dropping down the last few steps heavily. Luhan barely flicked his eyes over.

“Finally! Get me Kim-goddamn-Jongin, preferably dead, balls served separately from his body.” The man spat, eyes seething in unmuted anger.

Kyungsoo was having a bad day. A really, really bad day. A really, really bad day with Mr Kim on top. 

“I believe Mr Kim is preoccupied right now, I can take you to his room though, sir?”

Luhan snickered and continued to do sod all.

The white-haired man sharply nodded with a face like thunder. Kyungsoo thought he would not like to be Mr Kim right now. He went back up the stairs, fingers tracing along the banister in attempt to have the old wood calm him down. The white haired man was muttering with every step, cursing and grumbling, only occasionally taking a breath to mutter more angry threats. With every corridor he started to talk less, until he walked behind Kyungsoo with no words at all. They arrived at room 27 and Kyungsoo raised his hand and knocked firmly twice.

Silence was heavy between the two of them.

The man turned took Kyungsoo firmly by one shoulder and sweetly smiled at him.

“Excuse me.” He pushed Kyungsoo back a little, out of the way of the door. Kyungsoo didn't have the heart to protest.

“Kim – bloody - Jongin!” the man pounded furiously on the door, each word punctuated with a thump, “Open this goddamn door or I swear to god I will sell everything you own and burn the money in front of you!”

There was a muffled shriek from inside and clattering. 

“You have three seconds!” the man bellowed.

More muffled shrieking.

“Three.”

“Two.” The man turned to sneak a knowing wink at Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo gave a brief look of confusion as the man turned to face the door.

“One.”

The door was wrenched open. The white haired man smiled.

“And where exactly are the pictures I needed yesterday morning that the wonderful Kim Jongin promised would be delivered and could not possibly- ever, ever - be late because that wasn’t ever going to happen again, huh?!” The man slammed the door completely open, grabbing Mr Kim by the collar and practically lifting him from the ground.

“I can explain Sehun!” Mr Kim squeaked, hands held up in defence, goggles nestled in his fringe.

“Go.” The man growled.

"I-I didn't forget I thought I'd send you extra choice." Mr Kim stuttered, gasping for air.

"Bull."

"I don't think the client really needs them anyway- I'm a just small photographer."

"It's a magazine, double spread on you, specifically. Last chance or I will throw you from the window." Mr Kim was tottering when he held his hands up in surrender.

“I… don’t have a calendar?”

The white haired man - Sehun – sighed and let go of his grasp of Mr Kim’s collar. He seemed to sink in a little on himself before heading over to the sofa that was pushed to a wall in the room. He all but collapsed into it, groaning as he pushed his bony hands through his own hair. 

“You stupid you have a calendar in your phone.” Sehun groaned.

“Uh, I lost it?” Mr Kim was beginning to look at least apologetic.

Sehun put a hand down in between the cushions of the sofa and pulled out a smartphone that was pathetically flashing away notifications. Mr Kim looked happy for a second before he seemed to fall into a depression to mimic his friend’s. 

All of this made a wonderful show for Kyungsoo who looked on the scene with some shreds of amusement. Seeing Mr Kim with a bruised ego made up wonderfully for the shouting he had just been given just a few minutes previously. Yet the closeness between the two sat on the sofa was clearly apparent.

“Have you at least been playing?” Sehun muttered from his hands.

“Of course. I’m always playing the fine game. Want to see?” Mr Kim grinned.

Kyungsoo didn’t miss the reference but, thinking better of getting involved right now, bowed and went to leave the corridor and go back to the reception when a bony hand gripped itself on his forearm. And then he was being dragged through the room to the connecting bedroom with quite some force.

“Not so fast lobby-boy, come see this.” Sehun pushed him into the bedroom, sending him sprawling to keep his balance. Kyungsoo was ready to deck the guy, and protest being called a boy, before he remembered himself and lowered his fists. 

He looked up to see millions of photographs lining the walls and ceiling. The entire surface of the room – the very personality of it - seemed to be obscured behind black and white photographs. There were ones of people caught unaware, ones of buildings and some of nature. If Kyungsoo caught sight of them quickly they held a lot of wonder, yet as soon as he recognised what they were or what part of town they were from he quickly lost interest. In about five seconds he turned around to an expectant Mr Kim and Sehun.

“So?” Sehun verbally prodded him.

“If there is damage to the paint you will have to pay an extra charge sir, if you’ll excuse me I must return to the reception.” Kyungsoo swiftly navigated around the pair and out of the room. As he was walking away he could faintly hear them arguing.

“… Stupid bellboy.”

“Jongin, say what you like, but he’s playing it a lot better than you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“How many of these actually mean anything to you?”

And then the voices were too faint to hear.

------------------------------------------------[ THE FINE GAME OF NIL]----------------------------------------------------

Mr Kim didn’t leave his room for three days, not even to get meals. Kyungsoo wasn’t so much worried as intrigued. Maybe he’d kept some food in his suitcases? 

Kyungsoo had thought more about the strange satanic ritual in the bathroom. He’d worked out that Mr Kim was probably developing photographs in there and wouldn’t let Kyungsoo pull back the sheet as it would ruin all his photographs. Which, he supposed, explained the threat to Kyungsoo’s manhood.

In the days following Sehun’s arrival he’d made good use of the library computers by finding out Mr Kim was actually a professional photographer. His latest series, entitled the fine game of nil had garnered international attention thus far for its ability to attract focus and make the viewer self-reflect. 

Kyungsoo was sceptical to say the least.

However, the more he thought about the strange photographer in room 27 the more he couldn’t stop thinking about everything connected to it. He was frequently absent-minded, causing comments about his change in behaviour from his fellow workers, even Yixing. Kyungsoo thought it must be bad.

Saturday nights were never particularly interesting for Kyungsoo, even less so when he was the only one on shift, again. He willed himself not to think of the photographer and, instead, focus on the sounds hotel. In the night it would shift and the wood would bow as it breathed. All the creaks and knocks were the hotels way of showing that it was very much alive and organic. Kyungsoo was fully engrossed in hearing all the small clicks when a camera shutter made him slip from his focus.

Hiding behind one of the sofas was Mr Kim, camera in hand. Mr Kim had grown quite attached to the receptionist working nights in the mysterious Hotel Brass. He was drawn into the curve of his lips, small stature and the way his eyes would flicker over a room, assessing everything in quick scoops of interest.

He smiled to himself while he checked the photo.

As Mr Kim was ready to take another he looked expectantly through the small looking glass of the camera. However Kyungsoo was no longer there. Mr Kim experienced a small shock and swung his camera around to check Kyungsoo hadn’t just moved to another part of the reception.

When he got a small tap on the shoulder he let out a high pitched shriek and fell forwards, knocking into the plush sofa face first.

“Sir?”

“Dear lord.” Mr Kim muttered, in the air and face smothering his camera.

Kyungsoo massaged his forehead before trying to salvage the situation.

“Sir, are you alright?” Kyungsoo asked, holding out his hand for Mr Kim to use. Mr Kim gripped it hard, and just as Kyungsoo was about to pull him up he found he was violently into the floor by Mr Kim.

“Revenge! How does it feel?!” Mr Kim screeched in victory. He stood up to plant a foot on Kyungsoo’s back when goose-bumps began to line his skin. Looking down he could almost see a black aura seep from the tiny body lying on the floor. Stepping back, Mr Kim held up his camera as a shield as Kyungsoo picked himself up.

“Sir.” Kyungsoo stood and seemed to tower over the cowering Mr Kim.

Mr Kim fled.

Mr Kim hadn't experienced much of his life, at least to his mind, yet he found all of it flashing before his eyes when the hotel employee stood. His heart thumped in his throat as he hid in the corridor. Honestly he didn't act much different around the guy yet the feeling was different. He briefly experienced remorse and thought he should apologise, least of all because he could be brutually murdered while he slept. He shuddered.

Kyungsoo was just done pushing the sofa back into place when a hesitant face reappeared at the top of the stairs. 

Kyungsoo stayed silent as to prevent his anger from boiling out of his mouth and causing problems for the hotel. Luhan had told him how his bad moods were starting to affect some of the guests, so Kyungsoo was going to exercise his self-control and try not to beat the man -who was trying to creep down the stairs- into the floor.

"Um, sorry?" Mr Kim offered. Kyungsoo sighed.

"Sir I-"

"No, I'm really sorry I shouldn't have acted so close to you."

"Sir--"

"Take me out." Mr Kim interrupted Kyungsoo. His eyes burned with uncertainty.

"... What?" Kyungsoo drew a blank. He'd heard Mr Kim say the words but just couldn't process them. He blinked at Mr Kim.

"Show me the city tomorrow- show me what would be good to photograph, please? I can show you something interesting as an apology, I promise."

"Uh... I'm not sure." Kyungsoo attempted to refuse.

"Please."

Kyungsoo wanted to say no. He did, had done many times before, but instead found a big part of him wanting to give into the pleading. Mr Kim stared deep into Kyungsoo's eyes and Kyungsoo looked back. Mr Kim didn't seem like a bad guy within himself. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to give him a chance.

"Oh, fine."

Mr Kim looked as if Christmas had come early, and a wide grin cracked itself across his face.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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A/N: Hiiiii 3 months writing this and I'm still not done /slapped

I just really really at writing hahaha so this is like a christmas present I guess? part 2 will be posted shortly

i'll give you fluff and a biiiiiig shock look forward to it ;) (pssst kyungsoo and mr kim will get closer- if you want anyone in the story e.g. kpop people/ ships  I still have a lot left to write so feel free to comment and I'll do my best)

love ya - channie :P