Kim Jongin had done a lot of stupid in his fairly short lifespan, like running down his street in his best friend’s girlfriend’s thong (don’t ask), and giving an elderly woman a bath (don’t ask), or that one time when he became a stripper for a night and he’d somehow ended up running from the cops (don’t ask).

But to him, dangling very high up from the ground clinging onto a windowsill for dear life in the middle of the night, has got to the icing on the cake, this has got to be the icing on the cake.

This wasn’t even his idea. Seriously he shouldn’t even be held accountable, he tries to reason with himself, but he’s the one doing it so he really shouldn’t be the one complaining. It was his decision to follow through with it. However in this moment, aside from trying not to die, blame shifting is the only thing he’d capable of doing. This was all that wipe’s fault. He was going to kill Sehun. It was his idea in the first place to break into someone’s apartment, steal some valuables and then sell them so Jongin could pay off his growing debt in student loans—what was the point in paying for an education if it was only going to kill him (possibly quite literally)?

But no, the decided last minute to back out of the plan to go see a movie with his girlfriend. Some best friend he was. However despite his missing sidekick, Jongin had decided to continue with the plan and commit his first criminal act at some nice apartment complex where he figured only rich people resided.

And to add to this grand master scheme, Jongin hadn’t even broken into the poor bastard’s apartment yet.

, why was it so cold in May?

He doesn’t even know if the place is empty.

He briefly wonders how badly it would hurt if he fell and hit the concrete.

Arms trembling from the cold and hanging on for so long, he huffs and tries to find an escape route because he’s not certain how much longer he can hang on for.

And now that much longer he realizes when his right hand slips.

“AAH! !” he shrieks loudly and throws his arm back up, pushing his feet against the flat surface of the building and struggling to open the window, but from his weak hand he can’t tell if the window is locked or not because it’s just not budging.

I’m gonna die, I’m gonna die, I’m gonna die. I’m not gonna have the chance to get my degree or get my revenge on Sehun or break my belching record—

“What the hell are you doing?!”

Jongin felt the window suddenly open and he nearly lost his grip on it. His eyes shot open as he whipped his head up, coming face to face with wide-eyed, angry looking man staring down at him in disbelief.

It probably wasn’t the best timing for personal thoughts, but damn he looked attractive.

“Uh, h-hi,” Jongin lamely managed to croak.

“Again, what the hell.”

Jongin didn’t know what to say and he couldn’t easily tell him he was trying to