Yoseob’s hands were stuck deep in his pockets as he walked down the streets of Seoul at what was probably god damn three in the morning… maybe, well, he wasn’t sure. His smart ass self didn’t bring his phone, the only things he had in his pockets were his wallet, penthouse keys, and cigarettes.
‘Smart, Yoseob, real smart.’
But to say that it bothered Yoseob would be a lie.
Ever since he had come back from England, although he was meant to be jumping around, pretty much burning down the city and doing his daily routine of getting high, getting drunk, clubbing until the break of dawn and fucking people into the mattress, he would only get high and drunk, and of course, go clubbing. Yoseob wasn’t Yoseob without clubbing. It was nothing to do with his long mission, or the fact that he just didn’t find anyone as attractive anymore, because, honestly, he could just put a paper bag over their head, saying that it’s a game as long as he had someone to fuck.
It was none of those things.
It annoyed him, really, that when he used to get high and drunk, he’d crave, no, need, the damn physical contact, the sound of skin slapping together, the grunts, the moans, the screams, the whimpers and cries and sobs and the god damn sound of lips crashing against each other and skin being smacked red and raw.
Now, although he did still crave that, he didn’t as much. Maybe for the fact that no one caught his attention anymore… maybe. Well, it could be a possibility.
Or probably the fact that everything changed, he didn’t feel at home as much as he used to, and he didn’t know as many as he knew back then, most of his somewhat close companions out on missions, leaving him with what he would call, the fresh meat.
But there was Yoseob, minutes past three in the morning, cigarette now between his fingers, blazed as hell, steps slow and eyes wandering around.
Hara laid in her bed at a quarter past 3 in the morning as she pulled her bed sheets up to her chest. She looked out the window to see the bright moonlight shining down upon the streets of Seoul. Hara had been laying in bed for the past 3 hours trying to sleep but it just wasn’t happening. She knew it was pointless to continue to lay and just helplessly stare at the ceiling so she got up, grabbed her coat, a scarf, some gloves, then headed out the door.
There was not much noise around her, the only sound noticeable were the speeding cars that were probably driven my married men who were currently rushing home before the sunrises so that hopefully their wives won’t suspect they are having an affair. Hara shook her head at herself for having such thought, but it was obvious to her that she really had no more hope left for love. Looking ahead of her, the view was clear because again who would be strolling the streets at now half past 3 in the morning.
She didn’t know where exactly she was heading to and she also didn’t know when she should be heading back home, but her thoughts were distracted by a figure of a man standing against a light pole, smoking a cigarette, “People really enjoy dying young, don’t they.” she hissed to herself in hatred. One of her greatest hatred were cigarettes because they killed and were completely unnecessary. Without a second thought she stormed towards the figure and quickly took the cigarette out of his hands and threw it on the ground, “There’s better things for you to be doing,” she said in a monotone voice while stomping a couple times on the cigarette to make sure it was unlit.
Hara really didn’t have a place to say what the young man can or cannot do, but it bothered her too much to just let it go, “Sorry, I really don’t have a valid reason behind my actions, besides the fact that utterly hate smoking, but I just had too. I’m sure you have a whole pack more.” she quietly murmured while watching the fog escape her lips.
