Hellooo~

Here I am with the 5th and penultimate chapter of My Kitten. Honestly, I didn't expect the response I got from the previous chapter - 23 reviews? Never in my life I thought about such an enourmous number! - and I'm truly thankful for those who reviewed and subscribed and blablabla.

I'm going to talk more about my ideas in the end of the chapter, so... read if you feel interested ^_^

Ps: Sorry for my mistakes. Please tell where they are if you find them.

Ps2: Special thanks to my dear Victor-Oppa, who helped me with this chapter and endured all my complains and crises and moments of dispair and lack of criativity.

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Hongbin is not home yet, and it’s dark out there. 9:23PM, almost three hours later than the photographer normally arrives, but it is not like Taekwoon’s been counting. He’s not.

He knows Hongbin is extremely busy these days, and that today he has – had? – a very important photo shoot for a fashion magazine. One of the directors of the magazine was supposed to accompany the whole thing, and the guy was a very famous photographer too. If his master could impress him, then his career… To put it simply, it would open all doors for Hongbin. Taekwoon remembers how nervous the younger was during all week; he couldn’t stop babbling and forgetting things and listening to the same Park Hyo Shin song for hours.

So the hybrid ignores the feeling in his chest that says there’s something wrong; he always had this tendency of thinking everything around him will crumble at any second. His now constant nightmares only serve to make him an anxious and frightened mess. His body is tired, but his mind insists in putting useless thoughts in his head; Hongbin won’t leave him. Hongbin is gentle and Hongbin likes him.

Hongbin is late because of work. There’s nothing supernatural about that.

But still, the feeling remains. He cannot help but worry, and his chest is heavy, as if his heart suddenly weighs ten times its natural weigh. His ears insist in move every time there’s a small noise, his lips are swollen because he can’t stop abusing it with his teeth, and Taekwoon is passing in the living room; if he continues, a hole will appear in the floor in no time. The dinner’s ready for more than three hours and the entire house sparkle in cleanliness; Taekwoon cleaned every surface two times, except for Hongbin’s room. Their relationship is getting better each day that passes, but he still doesn’t feel comfortable to enter there. The room is too personal, too intimate. He sees the way Hongbin looks every time he notices that the place is untouched; it hurts Taekwoon, but what could he do? What if…

Maybe if…

If I clean his room, Hongbin will be happy. I know he will, Taekwoon thinks, a sudden determination taking the anxiousness place. He quickly picks the things he will need for cleaning, and dashes to the other boy’s room.

The place is cleaner than he thought it would be – Hongbin is a very organized person when he’s not in a hurry – but not as clean as it could be. A few pieces of clothing are spread across the bed – inclusive the beautiful green sweater Taekwoon loves to see the photographer wearing – and his bed isn’t made. Lots of photographs are on top of his desk; he doesn’t understand a thing about photography, but Taekwoon thinks they’re quite good. His closet is open too, and looks… messy; probably because Hongbin tried to look perfect for this photo shoot.

Taekwoon snorts with the thought; Hongbin is always perfect, even in the morning, when his hair points to all directions, his clothes are crumpled, his voice is hoarse and his eyes are half-open with sleepiness. He doesn’t need a fancy outfit to drawn everyone attention to him; people naturally get mesmerized by his handsome face, his sweet dimpled smile and gentle ways.

So, so perfect.

It makes Taekwoon’s heart ache.

His bottom lip is caught once again in between his teeth; thinking in this kind of thing is dangerous. Thinking about Hongbin is dangerous; it stirs the hybrid’s feelings towards his master.

Feelings of admiration, affection… desire…and something he doesn’t dare to name, building slowly but continuously in his chest. A four letter word capable of destroying everything.

Sighing deeply, Taekwoon decides that work is the best solution to distract his raging mind. He starts picking up the scattered clothes, folding them; the green sweater stays in his hands for more time, Taekwoon analyzing the fabric for a moment before lifting it to his nose. The scent of Hongbin is so strong that it’s almost like he’s there, by his side. Noticing his action, the catboy feels his cheeks heating, and quickly folds the sweater, putting it aside. He straightens the bed and arranges the photos the best he can; he knows how utterly possessive Hongbin is of them.

In twenty minutes the room is spotless; the hybrid is proud of himself. He is sure the photographer will like it.

There’s only one thing bothering him: the small dirt in the top of the closet, mocking him and his cleaning. The place is too high for him to reach without staying on his toes – even with his height – but the obstacle is too tiny for him to let it go.

Taekwoon stands on the tip of his toes, raising his arm to reach the dirty spot, scrubbing it with a moistened cloth. The thing is harder to clean than he originally thought; he’s like this it’s been 3 minutes, and his feet are starting to hurt from being in its toes for so long.

Just a bit more, Taekwoon thinks, face frowned with concentration; it’s almost clean, but his toes are aching. Deciding to end this already, the hybrid uses a bit more force; it proves to be the wrong move when he loses his balance.

In a tentative of hold himself upright, Taekwoon accidentally shakes the wardrobe. A Polaroid camera that was laying there in one of the highest shelves falls to the ground, dismembering itself. With a desperate squeak, Taekwoon fall to the ground just like it did, forgetting everything about the dirty spot. His hands start to shake as he holds pieces of what used to be the Polaroid.

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Even with the AC working constantly, Hongbin feels hot. All the lights he’s using to take better photos are incredibly bright and they keep heating the place; his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, and he already asked one of the girls of the staff – a very shy catgirl – for something to pin his bangs. He pities some of the male models, who are wearing long-sleeved wool shirts, but knows it’s their jobs and that there’s doing it just like him is doing his.

“Nayoung-ssi! Please look at the camera and put your hand on Hyunjoon-ssi’s shoulder! Yes, stay like this!” he orders the two main models, his camera clicking frenetically.

He can sense scrutinizing eyes burning holes in the back of his neck, and he resists the urge of gulping. Cho ‘The Eye’ Kyungjae is there, and Hongbin still can’t believe. The male was probably the most requested photographers of his time, and after twenty years of doing the best photo shoots and expositions and albums, he opened a fashion magazine with his wife and brother. Magazine that’s actually one of the most sold in Korea. Any photographer out there knows that if he wants to be known and have guarantee work, to impress Cho Kyungjae is the right choice. All doors are open for those liked by him.

Hongbin wants to be part of that small privileged group so much. Since the age of 6, when his grandpa gave him his first camera – an old Polaroid Hongbin still has – the younger photographer admires The Eye’s work.

A strand of hair falls in front of his left eye, and he is snapped out of his line of thoughts.

One of the models is sweating a lot, and Hongbin becomes aware of it. They’re in this rhythm for more than forty minutes without a pause “Okay, everyone, fifteen minutes break!” Hongbin can’t help but smile at the relieved faces of the models “After that, I want the last change of clothes” he says to the passing coordi-noona, who nods and starts to give orders. A contented sigh escapes his lips as he picks a bottle of water. Things are working out finer than he imagined.

“Hongbin-ah” he hears his name being called. As soon as he turns, he faces Cho Kyungjae, who has a small smile in his face. He’s quite attractive for someone in his middle fifties: black hair specked stylishly with grey and white, dark eyes and only a few wrinkles. He definitely was a ulzzang in his youth.

Hongbin’s face heat up “Director Cho Kyungjae” he bows.

“Aish, no need to be so formal, I feel so old! I prefer an ‘ssi’ or a ‘hyungnim’” the man opens a smile, and he has a single dimple in his right cheek.

“… Cho Kyungjae-ssi?” Hongbin tries again, and if his face was pink, now it’s scarlet.

“I guess it’s a beginning.” The older man shrugs, but continues to smile. He is a pleasant company “You were doing quite the nice job, boy. It’s been a while since I last saw someone so sure of what they wanted. Congratulations”

Okay, so this is the end of Lee Hongbin. People can’t really expect him to survive a praise made by a living legend.

“Thank you! Thank you so much” the boy bows yet again, earning a laugh from the older.

“It’s nothing, kid. I just like being honest” Cho Kyungjae seems amused with Hongbin’s mannerisms.

“Yes sir. I mean… Thank you again, sir.”

“Okay, okay” the man says. He gestures for a pair of chairs, and sits in one of them. Hongbin is quick to seat by his side “Now, Hongbin-ah, tell me why you putted the black and red set instead of the blue and grey”

Hongbin is eager to answer, and they spend the fifteen minutes break talking about the young photographers decisions. Soon Hongbin has to continue with his job; he’s about to explode in elation. His new rhythm makes the photo shoot finish before everybody expected, and that serves only to let The Eye more pleased with the boy’s work. He’s got the talent, the drive and it’s very easy in the eyes. Lee Hongbin is the kind of guy he’s looking for. He wants Hongbin in his staff, and once he wants something, he’s sure to have it.

“We’re finished!” Hongbin announces “Thank you everyone for your hard work!”

The models and the staff bow, all thanking him for his hard work. A sense of pride – the one he feels every time his effort is recognized – installs in his body, and now he wants to go home and tell Taekwoon about his day. It’s late, and he misses the catboy. No excitement could ever make him forget about his beloved Taekwoonie.

He’s grabbing his things when Kyungjae approaches him. He’s looking for something in his wallet “I’m very pleased with your work, Hongbin-ah, so please, call me one day so we can discuss a permanent place for you in my magazine” he says, making Hongbin’s heart beat like crazy in his ribcage.

This is a dream, is a dream, it can’t be true…

The Eye takes off his wallet a card, and is about to give it to Hongbin; a high pitched squeal interrupts him. The catgirl from before – the one who gave Hongbin the hair clip – is on the floor, papers scattered all around her. She looks like she wants to cry, but she holds it as her trembling small hands gather the papers. A coordi-noona quickly makes her way to help, and she’s the hybrid’s owner, judging their clear intimacy. The catgirl whimpers and hides her face in her owner’s neck the moment she sees each person in the studio staring in her direction. She remembers Hongbin of Taekwoon’s shyness.

“Disgusting” “Poor girl” both photographers say at the same time, before looking at each other.

“You pity that thing?” Cho Kyungjae’s eyes are totally different from before: now they’re sharp, analyzing; voice cold.

Hongbin doesn’t quite understand the sudden mood change “Y-Yes sir. She kind of reminds me of someone”

“Who?”

“Taekwoonie” Hongbin bites his lip, more confused as the time passes.

“Who’s Taekwoonie?” if possible, his gaze turns sharper.

The younger hesitates a bit “My catboy, sir”

Dark sharp eyes narrow and Kyungjae scowls “You have one of these dirty, disgusting, inferior beings?

“W-What?” Hongbin is so surprised he takes a step back. Maybe he listened wrong. A person like Cho Kyungjae wouldn’t use these hurtful words to refer to hybrids… Right?

“I asked you if you have one of those filthy hybrids!” the older male exclaims, his voice full of hate.

“Yes sir, I own one” the handsome face grimes as Hongbin takes in The Eye’s words. He doesn’t like saying he ‘owns’ Taekwoon, but a slow wrath is building in his body, and he doesn’t think about this detail.

“You had to have a flaw, but I never imagined someone who looks so good would fall so low” Kyungjae sighs loudly, passing a hand through his hair, using the other to put his card inside his jeans’ pocket “But I guess this can be resolved. If you get rid of that thing, ‘Taekwoonie’” he mocks, smirking “Then we can talk”

“Get rid of him?!” Hongbin can’t believe in what he heard; he has to take deep breaths to control himself, and it’s not working “What are you talking about?!”

“We discard toys, and I’m giving you a golden opportunity to do it. I know that with work we tend to look for ways to relieve ourselves, but I guarantee that here you will have decent people, not some repulsive semi-human thing to satisfy your needs”

This is the last straw; Hongbin is fuming, hands balled in fists and eyes flaming “You’re not suggesting that I keep a hybrid for ual relieve, right?! Because this is absurd and offending, not only towards my person, but also towards my Taekwoon and hybrids in general!”

“Don’t raise your voice when speaking to me, boy!”

“Then don’t disrespect me with dirty assumption and inhuman propositions!”

“So you really care about a dirty toy?” The Eye huffs “Really care about a useless, troublesome toy?”

“Stop calling him dirty! And he’s not a toy!” what the hell is happening? How things could get so complicated? Hongbin is so perplexed and so angry and so wanting to get out of there that the world is starting to spin.

“Oh yeah? So what is he? Your lover?” with the lack of response – rather, with Hongbin’s flushing face – Cho Kyungjae widen his eyes “He IS?!”

Hongbin doesn’t know what to say. He do wants Taekwoon to be more, but he can’t make this situation worse than already is by saying this.

“N-No, he’s not! He’s a friend and a living being!” he stutters.

As he closes his eyes, the older photographer eases the wrinkles in his brow “Lee Hongbin, I like your determination, so I will give you a last chance: get rid of him and I will contract you right now”

Said Lee Hongbin takes a deep breath, staring at the older with nothing but disappointment “No, I won’t accept”

Kyungjae’s face becomes a deep red; he emanates anger “Then GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE!”

Hongbin picks his things quickly and basically runs. The last thing he hears is the angry shout of Cho ‘The Eye’ Kyungjae.

“YOUR CAREER AS A PHOTOGRAPHER IS OVER! YOU LISTENED TO ME?! OVER!”

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A big slam noise is heard as Hongbin enters his apartment, shutting the door behind him angrily.

He still can’t believe it. He can’t believe that Cho ‘The Eye’ Kyungjae – his idol – is one of those despicable people who think they’re superior to hybrids. He can’t believe that he made all those dirty assumptions about him and he can’t believe that the man had the courage to call Taekwoon – his Taekwoonie – a disposable toy. It’s just o absurd… Hongbin doesn’t remember a time which he feels so angry like right now. He wishes to break down the house, wreck everything, smash every single piece of glass he posses; even if he does this, he doesn’t think it will makes things better.

The fury burns so intensely that he thinks he will never calm down. It is even possible?

He’s on the edge. All he wants right now is to eat something – anything – and lay down in his bed. Maybe seek for Taekwoon and…

And what? Try to have a conversation with him? Taekwoon is not the most talkative hybrid, and honestly, this normally wouldn’t matter to Hongbin – he loves the comfortable and sweet silence on normal days –; now the mere thought of the catboy’s quietness is enough to make the photographer angrier.

He should be thankful! Thanks to him, is very probable that Hongbin has to change his career choice; what Cho Kyungjae says, Cho Kyungjae does.

Thinking about Taekwoon, he’s not in the living room or in the kitchen – Hongbin doesn’t takes note on the abnormally, overly clean house, the still set table or the various pans in the stove – so he must be sleeping or taking a bath.

Hongbin doesn’t care.

He goes straight to his room; the sound of his shoes he didn’t bother to take off echoing in the silent apartment almost cruelly. He walks through the hallway directly to his room, not checking Taekwoon’s. His door is open; this makes him hesitate for a brief moment. His door is never wide open like this, what the hell happened? The anger that boils in his body calms a bit, not nearly the sufficient.

The first thing he notices when he walks in is Taekwoon’s body, next to his closet, who’s also wide open.

“Taekwoon?” Hongbin’s voice is (un)expectedly harsh, and if he is paying more attention, he would see the way the hybrid cringes when the usually ‘ie’ isn’t added. It isn’t the case.

When he doesn’t get an answer, Hongbin moves forward, until he’s close to see why the catboy is on the floor, fumbling with something.

Weird. Why the pieces in his hands look like the… Is that his Polaroid?

His beloved Polaroid?

“Taekwoon…” his voice is strained, and he bites his lips; his hands shook with the force he’s putting on them, to control his anger.

This is a mistake, a mere mistake. That’s not his Polaroid, broken and in Taekwoon’s hands.

Once Hongbin remembered saying – or thinking – that his parents used to spoil him too much, giving him Sanghyuk as a birthday present, giving him the apartment and his first car – which he sold to buy his Kia Soul – and innumerable other things. What he didn’t think at that time was that they did this because they were never present in Hongbin’s early years as a child. From his three to his nine years, the boy grew in his maternal grandparents’ house, a temple in Seoul’s suburb because they were working. His late grandfather wasn’t a photographer, but liked to take pictures with that same Polaroid Taekwoon has in his hands. That Polaroid is the reason why Hongbin started to take pictures.

His very first camera. Broken because of Taekwoon.

“My Polaroid, Taekwoon… What happened to my Polaroid?!” he bursts, glaring in the hybrid’s direction.

Said one winces, dropping the few pieces of the camera in the floor. He turns so he’s facing Hongbin from underneath. His ears are slightly trembling, and his tail is stone hard.  “I-I’m so-sorry” he mumbles, ashamed “I-… It was… I-It was an accident”

“Get up” Hongbin commands, ignoring all the signals of Taekwoon’s fear and distress; the red puffy eyes, the chapped lips, the dropped posture but tense shoulders. The older fails to obey “I said to GET UP!”

Taekwoon stays on the floor, not looking inside Hongbin’s eyes. The latter is getting more and more exasperate with the attitude. He never ordered Taekwoon around, so maybe that’s why he can’t make him obey the most simple of orders.

Ungrateful hybrid.

“Besides mute, are you deaf too?!” moving forward, the younger grabs Taekwoon’s arm, yanking him off the floor. The hybrid stumbles, trying to keep his balance, but he isn’t very successful as Hongbin shoves him against the wall, the impact making a hollow thump; he hisses lightly in pain, tears accumulating in the corner of his eyes. What’s happening? “Answer me!”

Too shocked, too hurt, the catboy can’t produce words.

Hongbin laughs mockingly “So I was right? Poor Taekwoonie is now deaf too?” the dimpled smile Taekwoon loves is distorted into an ugly smirk “What? Are you sorry that you broke my Polaroid, are you? Then, let me tell you something: you should be sorry! You should be sorry that because of you, today I lost the only chance I had in become a great photographer! Because of you I’ll probably have to change my profession! You should be sorry that because of you, all I worked so freaking hard to archive now is nothing, did you hear it? NOTHING!”

The catboy whimpers, biting his lips so hard that the plump skin tears, a single droplet of blood oozing from it.

“Are you sad?” Hongbin continues, unmerciful “I’m the one who should be sad right? I am the one who’s life is ruined because of an ungrateful toy” he moves away, watching with a morbid sense of pride as Taekwoon slides down until he reaches the ground, his cat-like eyes wide open; they carry so many emotions: betrayal, hurt, shock, sadness, fear, a sparkle of anger…

Hongbin makes his way back to the room’s door, looking behind only to said his last words:

“I regret the day I’ve adopted you”

With this, he walks away, seeing one tear escaping the hybrid’s dark eyes.

The last thing Taekwoon hears is the sound of the front door slamming for the second time that night.

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Soooo, what do you think? Tell me, okay?

Next chapter is the last one - maybe I will make a epilogue after it, but I'm not sure...

About the fanfic ideas I posted on the previous chapter:

Wow! I was so surprised with the amount of people who wanted 1 & 3! You guys are really faithful to Leobin, hm? They're my OTP, so it made me very happy knowing I'm not the only one who ship them... hard~

The idea that a lot of you guys took interest in was the number 1, the Prime Minister Son!Taekwoon and the Spy/Assassin!Hongbin, so I will start to write it. I can't promise to update it right away after My Kitten; I'm studying now (things here start in February) and I won't have a lot of free time.

And what about the other ideas? Well,eventually I will write and post everything, but I kinda wanted to know which one I should start with. The Omega/Beta thing probably will be the next one (maybe I will even post it together with the Prime Minister Son); OMG, I have too many ideas >_<

Valentine's Day is approaching too... I'll try to post a one-shot. With a very, I repeat, very crack pairing. Just because I want to try it~ 

Holy s..., I wrote too much. 

This is it, I guess... If you have a question about something involving my ideas or if just want to talk, contact me ^^

(Jesus, I look like a loner...)

See yah~