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    Summary

    "Then what the fuck are you doing here?"

    "It’s not as fun without you."

    Could anything be that simple? For a lunatic like Seongje — probably. He is having fun, he is not having fun. He likes, he doesn’t like. He wants, he doesn’t want. And who knows what the fuck he wants now.

    "Miss me? How sweet." Baekjin injects every drop of sarcasm he can muster into the words.

    Seongje shows his teeth—not quite a smile, more like an animal giving a warning sign. He gets up, drops the frozen bag, and approaches. His eyebrow is split, dry blood on the side of his face, eye getting more purple by the minute. Baekjin thinks it’s almost pretty in a sick way, then — appalled by the thought — steps back. Out of balance from his mind’s betrayal. Seongje mistakes it for some type of weakness — in a way, he’s right — judging by the way he grins. Baekjin wants to step further again, to stand his ground. But it’s too late. Seongje is no longer coming straight to him. He’s circling him. A hungry dog looking for the best angle of attack.

     

    It was always a game with him.

    Language:
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