Archive of Our Own ^beta

The blast wave caused by the uncontrolled approach throws them ten steps apart.

Like a spaceship that has a bad docking, the entire smoothly working mechanism is blown apart by a millimeter error, and “Bang!” - its parts are now scattered across the vastness of space.

Well, this is fucked up

They controlled objects and minds to the point that they lost all their own sensory and intuitive points of support.

In truth, one of them has the entire cosmos in his head, the other has it at his fingertips. It’s just that the lines of communication are already mixed up, and for some reason the incompatible is trying to connect together.

The circular courtyard of the University of Magic lies in the center of six different facades of bizarre buildings.The new dean of the Combat faculty a couple of years ago has chosen the strict and cold, gray shades of concrete slabs, and since then they have been unchanged, just like the firm (well, almost) principles of the local students.

True color of the Flora and Fauna building is almost unrecognizable due to the vines that cover its walls and windows and the flowers that bloom everywhere, which would look much more romantic if it weren't for the poison ivy guarding the buildings against unwelcome guests.

Medical students clearly weren't too concerned with the appearance of their alma mater, preferring to focus their efforts on solving more important problems, especially now, in the context of a still unclear and frightening epidemic.

The Mental, Object-Oriented Magic and Prophecy faculties seem to be a little more closely packed together than all the others. Today, three deans decided among themselves to change the colors of their walls every hour - probably so that the seniors from the Object faculty could practice and the first-years would go crazy even before their first exams.

From the roofs of these six buildings, ray roads with different reliefs rush into the sky, finished in the middle by a round platform, similar to a magic carpet: a pompous meeting place for the heads of all the faculties.

But Joshua is not interested in all this

In this semester his classes include “Softening of Hard Surfaces”, “Structuring of Colorization Processes in Inanimate Objects”, “Fundamentals of Tissue Levitation”, “Methods of Biological Structures Visualization”, “Psychology of Body”, and “Enchanting Design”.

On Wednesday, after the fourth class - an elective on "controlling bodies in space". However, it is not entirely clear whose bodies, if the only uncontrollable body sits as usual nearby and nags in his ear, just on Wednesday, just after the additional lesson after the fourth class, when the brain is capable of only the most simple manipulations.

For this reason, Joshua tries not to pay attention to the “body” and continues to monotonously run his fingers over the stone sculpture, gradually smoothing out its corners with the help of the very weak object magic impulses. He sticks out the tip of his tongue and freezes his gaze, just to make his creation as refined and neat as possible.

Fragile and strong at the same time - so that he could be loved too.

It will be sunny and clear in the University courtyard for a couple more hours, until sunset. A great time to work outside because in such natural light Joshua can see every roughness on the cold marble. Every hair on the constantly disheveled blond mess flickering in front of his nose. Every yellow streak of little lightnings in the brown mischievous eyes, round at the slightest surprise and always a little sleepy because of the way the fluffy eyelashes pulled the eyelids down.

Playful tiredness or tired playfulness - that's how Joshua would describe this look if he admitted to himself that he was thinking about it now, and not about how to add a grid of cellular structure on the skin to the perfect golden ratio of a marble sculpture.

Sometimes Joshua feels like it would be easier to fulfill his lifelong dream of making his sculptures move… than to make Jeonghan not move.

All the windows to the summer garden are open only in the faculty of combat magic - this is where the students stay the longest. In this way, they apparently try to share their burning enthusiasm with the others. And it is from where those strange screams are heard, followed with interest by playful-sleepy eyes with yellow lightnings in brown pupils. Then, after blinking a couple of times, they return to their main goal: to peer attentively and scrutinizingly at how Joshua makes marble flexible with his fingertips and carves joints on lifeless fingers from it.

Jeonghan circles a special course on manipulation in his schedule. His name is written in the grid of classes on "Safety Techniques for Working with Trigger Thoughts," "Basics of Programming Telepathic Abilities with Runes," "Philosophy of Dreams," and "Using Persuasive Magic in Public Speaking."

The last year of the Mental faculty is filled with various hypnosis techniques, research on the relationship between intelligence and creativity, experimental technologies of persuasion psychology, and the influence of the conscious "I" on decision-making.

Judging by the subjects he chose, his not fully conscious “I” decides that being a good psychologist means eloquently instilling in someone the thought “you’re an idiot” and very well substantiating it.

Unlike that incomprehensible Hong Jisoo from the stupid Object faculty, who runs around with his photographs and sculptures and assigns to all his unconscious “selves” the idée fixe of his whole life to be able to make them move with the help of magic.

How can anyone other than Jeonghan be the idée fixe? He is both: an idée and a fixe. Especially for the eternally calm sight of almost black eyes with a predatory eye shape.

It's scary when someone else's gaze tries to become your unconscious "I".

“You’re in the Object faculty,” says Jeonghan after a minute of silence (in memory of the evaporating mental health opposite of him), “but you can’t dye your hair.”

“I wasn’t up to it,” Joshua waves his hand, “and I think red has faded to a beautiful peachy bronze shade, don’t you like it?”

"Peachy bronze?" Jeonghan asks. He tries to get a milkshake straw into his mouth, but it takes him three tries (it's immediately obvious why he didn't start manipulating objects when he can't even control his own hands). Jisoo continues to draw the creases on his sculpture's knuckles with careful strokes. "I thought it was peeling red".

He chuckles and Joshua rolls his eyes but hides the way he smiles a little behind his stone ear.

Both are distracted for a second by a large, multi-colored bird flying out of a third-floor window of the Faculty of Flora and Fauna. Flapping its iridescent wings, it soars into the air.

"Tom, wait!" "Tom, wait!" shouts Lee Seokmin, who has stuck his head out after it.

“That’s awful, I would have run away too if they had named me like a cat,” comments Jeonghan, taking a break from eating an inedible straw.

Joshua smiles sincerely and kindly. On his way back to the statue, he may glimpse the sight of yellow lightnings in the brown irises of inspired eyes. If Jeonghan is really interested in something, his eyes become almost childish: round and even slightly squinted with delight.

"What's his name?" asks Jeonghan, putting the cocktail straw back into his mouth, which he's already just biting, and nodding at the still-unfinished statue. "I hope it's not Rex".

Joshua looks down. And so, with his eyes down, he snaps his fingers to turn the poor plastic tube into sugar. Jeonghan freezes in surprise when, with another clicking sound, he bites off a piece of caramel.

"He has no name yet. I am just training and repeating the techniques of Renaissance sculptors. I need to hone their techniques to create something of my own", Jisoo answers the question.

He spent too much time taking photos before.

Jeonghan moves a little closer, cautiously and fearfully, and even this makes Jisoo's pulse quicken. Here, in the middle of the day, in the courtyard of the University, for the first time in a month, their ten steps apart turn into three again. He wants to hold his breath. But Joshua is still angry.

"Did you just come to bother me? Don't you have anything better to do?" he asks venomously, not looking up from the sculpture and hoping that Jeonghan really has nothing better to do.

And even if there is something to do, he hopes that Jeonghan would still choose to bother him.

They are three steps away from each other, but Jeonghan is not satisfied with all of them, because in all three he will also have to tell the truth.

Hong Jisoo should tell the truth.

After all, for some reason he kissed him that day and has stubbornly remained silent about it for a whole month

The summer wind touches him, resembling the touch of these long, graceful fingers to his tousled white hair, and returns in a curl, stroking Joshua's tanned cheek.

This makes him look up again and stare with a disapproving gaze at the cocktail stain on the Jeonghan shirt’s collar.

Joshua has peachy-bronze hair styled with a mousse he certainly knows the name of, perfectly smooth tanned skin and white socks that match his classic trousers. He's wearing a buttoned-up velour cardigan, handmade by one of Seoul's most famous designer wizards: it changes its shade every day.

Jeonghan is almost choking on his caramel straw. He has a smear of a non-magical pen on his cheek, his white hair is disheveled like a ruffled bird feathers, as he had only dried it after the shower with a towel at x2 speed, and then exposed it to the summer wind. He has bright, intelligent eyes, a wrinkled T-shirt, baggy pants and a backpack that he has probably stolen from some schoolboy.

A living nonsense instead of an idée fixe.

Joshua would like to spell the word “non - sense” regarding Jeonghan, but he just sighs heavily again and snaps the fingers of his left hand.

"Look, a magical laundry! " - smiles Jeonghan watching the stain disappearing from his collar, - "can you smooth the wrinkles too? "

Joshua could and would like to smooth wrinkles on Jeonghan`s forehead, and this wish is the root of all their problems.I could, but you may get burned. (In any case I would have to smooth them with steam, silly!)

He gets a snort in response as in “I didn’t really want it anyway”

"You would have made a terrible maid" - Jeonghan spits out words with a sour face.
"Then it’s great that I’ve become an object magic magister" - parries Jisoo

In a minute the curious nose pokes in his work again. In these seconds when the distance between them is almost non-existent, his pulse can’t be controlled even by the most gifted healers.

Jeonghan visits many lectures of other faculties, although of all the battle magic courses he would attend only the course of “mind-fucking”. It was terrifying that in his case the name was going to become almost literal. None of the object mages was able to block the advanced telepathy, and Jeonghan knew it all too well.

He hasn’t exploited it a single time so far, however

Joshua could only wonder what it would take to make him lose his temper and make him use the power contained in his mind. Well, he found out: he had to kiss him under the freaking influence of the freaking Zhong Chenle’s potion influence at the students’ party. To play out the teen comedy film with him. To face the neurotic psychosis and the psychotic neurosis in their full might.

Zhong Chenle has uncovered the secret: the “secret potion” was a mix of vodka and beer, and shaker was the only sorcery he used.

"Do you know" - Jeonghan asks, continuously watching Joshua smoothing out the shoulder curve (what drove him mad, it was the shoulder of a some stone slab rather than his own), - "that I can instill any thought in your mind? "

Jisoo sighs, continuing his work.

"Yes, I know. You are in the top three of the Mind Faculty. I believe you can. "

"Actually, I am the best" - Jeonghan pouts.

"You would have been if you hadn’t thrown your backpack out of the window right on Professor Cho’s head. "

"I tried to see whether you can make it fly. "

"I was in the dorm at that moment, Jeonghan. "

"So what…" - He shrugs, and Joshua discreetly casts a sharp glance from behind the statue’s shoulder, - "Actually, I can’t. I’m able to relay my voice inside your head but not to make you think of anything."

This fact is a total bummer, Joshua thinks. It was so easy to think that it was Jeonghan who forced his image to come up in Joshua’s head, to peek out of every corner of his mind.

These white hair that he never does at all, that shine in the sun… To imagine them so close to his cheek so he can smell the scent of shampoo. To feel this delicate skin that he once, just once managed to touch so close and received an answer, to study it with his eyes, lips and fingers

…

Kissing Jeonghan was so…

In ANY circumstances, with ANY excuses! Unfortunately, nobody in the university has the power to erase memories. Only the highest-ranking mages were allowed to do this by court order, and Joshua could sue only himself for finally snapping and breaking his own taboo. He knew that he wouldn't stop after the first touch.

It was good, at least, that the mysterious potion of Zhong Chenle seemed to erase the Jeonghan’s memories who has never recalled it for a whole month. It was for the best, probably.

In turn, the fact that he was going even more crazy than ever could have been explained, for instance, by the further expansion of his brilliant magic capabilities. Joshua convinces even himself that his friend is acting more and more silly just because the silliness grows in him like some new magic resource. Being a stupid ass is his way to replenish his vitality.

Maybe, due to his light head, he decided to explain it by dizzying views from the western Incheon Sea shores, where Joshua suddenly decided that it would be tremendously romantic to kiss him while being totally smashed, and not to search for any hidden meanings.

Three year infatuation, for example.

What a trifle, really.

Everything that Jeonghan’s does during this month is shuffling around, teasing, getting on nerves and randomly attracting attention. In other words, everything he wants to without asking, as he always does.

Even now he thinks: what other topic could he raise to delay leaving?

Jeonghan’s eyes light up with wicked fires.

"Do you know what neuro-linguistic programming is? "

"Nuh-huh", - Joshua mumbles a negative answer, stoically continuing his work. He knows only how to embroider fine silk with a graceful pattern, to change color and the material of a sofa and to make his shopping bags float at his will instead of dragging them home.

He also knows how to make his long-gone grandmother smile from an old 60s photograph. This is his most precious knowledge.

"The metaphysics of conscience", - Jeonghan spreads his hands with a threatening “woooo”. - "Hypnosis, basically. I’ve had only two lessons so far but it sounds cool."

"So, you’re a hypnotist now? " – Jisoo squints, with his mind drifting closer and closer towards his companion

Another great explanation. It was just some malicious hypnosis, not the longing to feel this vulnerable breath on his lips and the desperate attempts to draw him closer. Freaking Yoon Jeonghan was so vulnerable at the moment that the memory alone brings spasms under the skin.

"It’s simple" – Jeonghan nods, - "almost anyone can do it if he chooses a right…" - he skips the word “victim” in his mind, turning eyes to the sky for a moment – "a right object", - he turns his gaze back to the tanned cheeks but not the predatory eyes.

"And what makes a “right” victim? " – Jisoo supports the conversation, saying to himself that it’s just courtesy.

"An ideal object" – Jeonghan moves closer, hiding his agitation under the fringe, - "is someone soft, pliable, rule-abiding and ready to obey. Someone very… good. "

There is not even a hint of suggestion in his voice.

"And? " – Joshua arches his eyebrow.

"Maybe it’s someone who even likes to obey", - Jeonghan lifts up his chin to hide fear and anxiety behind his smugness. – "Hypnosis makes contact with the imagination instead of consciousness. Mind sees what the imagination is offering. Thus, you’ll never do anything you don’t want to do under hypnosis. "

Fuck. Another theory breaks apart.

Jeonghan both terrifies and attracts with his constant threats of getting inside your mind and investigate every thought (about him) there, and the fact that he never does that.

Joshua withdraws his hand with a gasp. Belatedly he realizes that, lost in his thoughts, he has made a large dent in the marble instead of a slight clavicle groove.

"I was invited to an experiment", - Jeonghan says slowly, boring a dent with his eyes.

"Seriously?! " – Jisoo loses temper and raises his voice. He widens his eyes and claps hands in an obvious “Well, fuck it” gesture. – "Jeonghan, really? Not “Sorry for the interruption”, not “How are you, anyway”, not even “Do you need help?”, but “I was invited to an experiment”? "

Jeonghan lowers his eyes guiltily.

"I’m sorry, I didn’t think…"
"You never do. "

It is really dumb to accuse the LocAL THinKING MastER of this, but Jisoo is really angry. Angry at Jeonghan not thinking about him now, not thinking about them at that moment, as well as not thinking about them for all that time, while all his sculptures accidentally appeared to have mischievous eyes and almost feminine grace, echoing the nimble boyish movements.

Not thinking about opening his mouth in response, pulling him on a sand, pulling towards himself…

Fuckfuckfuck

An awkward silence settles.

Another explosion rumbles from the open windows of the Combat Magic faculty, but this time none of them pays any attention.

Joshua likes interacting with physical objects - for Jeonghan, the entire process happens inside his head.

While Joshua spends hours monotonously fussing over the perfect curves of his statues, Jeonghan sits nearby for hours, turning him over in his thoughts like a folding puzzle - taking him apart, breaking him into uneven pieces and Lego blocks, trying to fit mismatched edges together, building the frame of the puzzle and then filling it in.

Hong Jisoo is similar to a traveler in a new metropolis - a foreign consciousness. He gets off at random subway stations, explores every side street, peers into every storefront, and tries to find his way home without a map. This, actually, is the most interesting part, because he merges with this city (this consciousness) and becomes an inherent part of it.

It's just that, for some reason, all results of Joshua's work rest deep within him, while Jeonghan feels like screaming out loud for the world to hear about his own.

Joshua irritably closes his eyes, then looks ahead and thinks what a pity it is that in his first year he devoted all his attention to "Magical Artifacts of the First Three Ranks and Their Application", while completely, utterly missing the course on ignoring a playful voice and disheveled white hair.

Jeonghan looks back and thinks he'd rather not know how to build a single mathematical model of magical processes if it meant he could slow his heartbeat when he sees those dark, fox-like eyes.

"I just wanted to ask for advice," he mumbles, glancing up from under his brow, looking so offended, as if he's the main victim here, - "Maybe you could read my tarot?"

"Are you an idiot?" Jisoo's tone holds nothing but a sincere, calm question.

"What, isn't that object magic? Doesn't really qualify for divination."

He's clearly teasing. Joshua's eyes widen in irritation again.

"I don’t get it, are you flirting or insulting me?"

Jeonghan laces one hand behind his head, trying to figure out the difference.

He doesn't know any other way.

Joshua's fingers are always in some kind of material: clay, plasticine, sand, flour, paint, primer, wet cement. Jeonghan's thoughts swirl like a vortex in his eyes. Right there in his pupils, they argue with each other, battle, make truces, confess, surrender, win, celebrate, and fall into thoughtful silence.

Their game, and the refusal to yield to one another has gone too far in the last month, pushing them further and further away from any sincerity.

Before Jeonghan can answer, he yelps, distracted with a sudden sharp burn searing his wrist. Jisoo instinctively leans forward to grab his hand, but it turns out to be nothing more than an unkind reminder from a classmate that the class starts in three minutes.

"It's Seungcheol. We have Dreaming class."

Tossing the words over his shoulder, Jeonghan runs off. Joshua closes his eyes and counts to ten. Once again, to ten steps between them.

Only he should’ve had the right to say " we have Dreaming class."

*

It's completely impossible to focus in Philosophy of Lucid Dreaming class.

That’s because the class is scheduled for the evening. Who in the world came up with that?

"If it's dreaming, why not just have it at night?" - Jeonghan grumbles, repeatedly glancing at the window, closed because of the working AC, trying to guess if Jisoo is still in the garden and whether he'll wait for him.

After all, he did kiss him again for some reason.

The perpetually sniffling, slow-moving professor (who spends far too much time in his dreams) finishes the introductory part of the lecture and rotates his hands inward, signaling for desk partners to turn to each other.

"Your task now is to work in pairs", - he says in a smooth, high-pitched voice that suits his tall slender frame perfectly. "Practice is the most crucial part of transmitting information and programming neurolinguistic impulses. Only through practice can you succeed".

Jeonghan turns to his friend and fixes him with an intense stare. Seungcheol calmly observes the thoughts swirling like vortices in his brown pupils and doesn't say a word for a long time.

After all, you can just stop thinking about the consequences this total chaos in your head means for mental magic and just… focus. Pass off your nervousness as aspiration, your agitation as effort. Thoughts about that touch that makes your breath stop…

"Mmm, the western shore of Incheon?" - Seungcheol finally grins, making him jolt.

Jeonghan's ears turn burning red - thank god his white hair completely covers them.

"What?" - he asks, bewildered.

Seungcheol shrugs.

"You tell me. For some reason, instead of dictating the formula for decoding the language of Joseon mages", - he nods toward the floating board with the unreadable code they were supposed to try to transmit to each other, - "for the last five minutes you've been describing the temperature of the sand on Incheon's western beach, the taste…"

Jeonghan lunges forward, throwing both hands up to make his friend shut up.

"Don't…" he starts, but Seungcheol chuckles.

"Don't worry. I figured it out in time and put up a block. Thank goodness for keeping me sane".

Jeonghan twists his face to mock the smirk and glances at the window again as Seungcheol asks if he has made a decision about the proposed experiment.

Getting down to business right now wouldn't hurt at all.

***

On Thursday, after Runic Language the schedule for object mages is completely free. Joshua as usual stayed in the workshop, looking at his first real success with a tender smile. Sure, the human world has had GIFs, videos, and messenger stickers for ages - but he’s the only one who has managed to make an image move on an old, printed photograph.

The faded dark green blouse on the young woman sways in a wind that must have swept through New York's Central Park in the spring of 1965, where she stood. Joshua runs his tanned palm over the photo, and the blouse, like its owner, freezes once more.

If only he could do that with statues. Or, even better, with certain people.

Suddenly, Seungcheol’s voice sounds right in his head. Startled, Jisoo drops the photograph on the floor. It must be something so urgent that he didn’t even use a phone or his favorite method of communication - quickly vanishing message on the skin: a trick even first-year object mages can make, but one that fascinates everyone from the mental faculty.

It was enough for Joshua to hear a certain name in the crackling radio signal to bolt from the room.

The path to the hospital wing near the Medical Faculty goes through the compressed space and time. He could really use teleportation right now, but even its basics are taught only to postgraduates and only to those of them who pass the harsh selection process.

Running into the bright corridor, breathing heavily, Joshua has only a single thought. All this time, day after day, trying to live a normal life, each of them was afraid that the raging epidemic would strike someone close to them. At the mere thought that it could be Jeonghan, he immediately wants to offer himself up to any spell, allow any power to be stripped from him - whatever it takes, just to not let it take his most precious thing away.

But no one has yet figured out what can be sacrificed to stop the mysterious disease that has spread metastases throughout Seoul.

Jungwoo has been in a coma for almost a month, and Seungcheol practically sleeps by his bedside, so he knows this place by heart.

"What happened?"

His calm voice and the hand on Joshua's shoulder allow him to exhale warily, but at least not in panic.

"Everything's fine. He volunteered to help an experimental group get into a consciousness infected by the virus. The third-level defense repelled him. He's fine now", - Seungcheol repeats to make the information settle.

Joshua freezes. The fourth level of a mentalist block is lethal. A defense of that level attacks the brain and disrupts neural connections. Which means, just a little more and…

"He volunteered?", - Joshua asks. "I'm going to kill him".

He moves past Seungcheol so quickly to enter the room that he doesn’t even hear the muffled "Well, they asked him, actually…" behind.

The sight of Jeonghan sitting on the edge of the hospital bed makes his heart race and calms him at the same time. He looks as if he’s been struck by lightning. Yellow scratches swirl in his brown pupils like a loading icon. His surprised eyes stare motionlessly at the floor. His hair, as if electrified, sticks out even more than usual, and Jisoo, smoothing it down with his palm, crouches in front of the bed, trying to see his face.

Even his rage, when near Jeonghan, always walks hand in hand with tenderness.

Once again, there is less than ten steps between them, and once again, it wasn't initiated by either of them.

Jeonghan is trembling faintly. His gaze, more frozen than Joshua's marble statues, stares through space. Taking Jeonghan's thin hand in his own, Jisoo thinks that this seems to be the price assigned to Jeonghan: a powerful mind in such a fragile body.

"Can you hear me?" he asks.

Jeonghan flinches, blinks twice, and nods.

"Great. So, you can hear me explaining why you're an idiot."

"Don't start it again, please", - Jeonghan mumbles quietly, lowering his eyes.

It's very hard for Jisoo to imagine what a retaliatory mental block feels like. What does a blow against the mind, consciousness and thoughts feel like? He probably doesn’t want to find out at all, but the images his mind conjures up - applied to the only thoughts he cares about - flood his body with a poisonous mix of helplessness and anger.

"What were you thinking?" - he asks. "Their minds are poisoned, and you decided to just waltz in? Who even came up with the idea?"

"It was...", - Jeonghan hesitates, licking his lips. His gaze gradually becomes more mobile and aware, - "...not exactly a legal experiment. Please don't tell anyone".

Joshua sighs with irritation, closing his eyes, but he doesn't let go of the hand still trembling with residual shock.

"You know exactly how I feel about all these 'not exactly legal' experiments. They have plenty of professors; they don't need student guinea pigs. I thought we'd been over this-…"

"I was trying to ask for your advice yesterday", - Jeonghan interrupts, wrinkling his nose and pulling his cold hand away himself, - "To find out what you are thinking".

He really was trying. Just not in the way normal people do. And Joshua knows perfectly well: he wasn't going to follow that advice anyway.

"You didn't-…"

"If it had worked, it could have helped the epidemic investigation. Who even told you? Why are you here?"

And that, thrown out with such disregard, works like a red rag to a bull. Jeonghan is always trying to control: to dictate, advise, direct. He never fully gives in himself. He only comes when he needs something. To play around, to flirt, to chip off another piece of a heart and disappear again.

To return a kiss and pretend nothing happened.

It's a real shame first-year object mages are taught color-changing magic but not how to book an appointment with a therapist to talk about their addiction to white hair and childishly pouted lips.

Magic, it seems, isn't really useful in adult life.

Joshua snaps in a moment, all the misunderstanding that had been growing between them for a month finally takes the form of words. Someone else's mistake is the trigger for a mechanism that's been ticking nervously for a long time.

"Isn't that why you're putting on this whole show?", - he asks, licking his lips and casting a predatory glance from his fox-like eyes. Jeonghan straightens up in surprise. "What?" - no, his wounded look won't work this time. "Going to play the victim again? You're always sticking your nose somewhere just to get attention".

Jeonghan presses his lips together and clenches his fists.

"How else am I supposed to get it? I'm not one of your stupid statues for you to spend your days and nights with them".

The whole misunderstanding boils down to one thing: Jisoo means "you're seeking everyone's attention", while for Jeonghan "everyone" is a stupid side effect on a path just one goal.

"Young man", - an entering nurse called out disapprovingly, - "if you're planning to yell at him, this is neither the time nor the place. Please, leave".

She closes the door, and Joshua feels like something that had been built between them over the three years of acquaintance crumbling. He knew it was the nerve he shouldn't touch, but he lost control and ruined everything. And now a corrosive misunderstanding hangs in the air, replacing what they had so perfectly passed off as a close friendship.

It's as if some invisible thread has snapped, and they're both fumbling, unable to find a new one.

And it's his own fault.

"She's right", - Joshua nods, trying to ignore the frightened look. "There are people here to take care of you. I need to get back to my statues ". He puts such emphasis on the last word that it makes even himself uneasy.

They taught Jeonghan how to program neuro-visualization of perception with magic back in his second year, but no one ever added a course to his schedule that would explain why it's so important to be able to speak uneasy truths.

Magic is useless in adult life.

***

Ten steps turned into a hundred, then a thousand. It turns out you can be miles apart even when sharing the same classroom.

By their final year, they only had two classes left which they attended together: the Practicum on Optimizing the Theoretical Process of Teleportation and the Problematic Issues of Magical Ethics, which Jeonghan had been compulsory distributed to for using illegal methods during the Three Legal Ways to Make Someone Tell the Truth, while Joshua needed it desperately due to his unusual specialty - he really didn't want to accidentally do something catastrophically illegal while working with inanimate objects and end up in the hands of the police.

They had enough on their plate with the epidemic.

The large lecture hall was filled with students from all faculties and years, and today was especially nerve-wracking because the professor had asked Joshua to present a report on his research.

Standing at the pulpit and clearing his throat, he didn't even glance in the direction of Jeonghan who was sitting a row away from him, separated by a group of noisy first-year nature mages, next to Hoshi, who was constantly clutching his magic orb that he tried to pass off as a real divination one.

"Hi", - Jisoo smiles, clearly flustered by the number of eyes on him. Public speaking was the domain of mentalists, not object mages. If they were still talking, Jeonghan would have definitely helped him prepare the speech for the presentation. But he’d had to make do with Johnny's help instead. "I'll be talking about how I, with help of Professor Lee, managed to make the girl in a photograph from 1963 smile as a part of my thesis project. Our research has advanced several steps since then, but I wanted to share the initial steps that helped us push this field of object magic forward without breaking the established boundaries of magical ethics".

Out of the corner of his nervous vision, Joshua noticed the fierce stare Jeonghan was drilling into him and immediately turned to address another section of the interested audience.

"What are you doing?", - Hoshi whispered, elbowing his friend sitting next to him, but Jeonghan just swatted his hand away.

"Leave me alone".

Trying to focus on his target, he suddenly becomes frightening. He reflexively smirks smugly with the tips of his perfectly shaped lips and doesn't take his intense, upward glance off his friend standing at the pulpit.

Jisoo closes his eyes for a split second, just to keep from losing his train of thought.

The phrase "we need to talk" for Jeonghan is ranked somewhere after "motorized tool with an internal combustion engine and various removable attachments that connect directly to the engine casing" in terms of frequency.

But "I need to think" – is the tool he uses much more often.

And now, the idea of thinking directly into Joshua's mind finally seems to him the pinnacle of his own genius.

"Shua-yah", - he calls tenderly, tuning his voice to sound inside someone else's head.

This way, he’ll get revenge for the unfair attack, get even, and…

He had not decided on the "and" yet, though he already had an idea.

If Joshua complains so much that Jeonghan tries to get everyone's attention - fine, from now on, everyone will desperately seek his attention.

"Joshuji", - he repeats in a mockingly tender voice (he’d mastered tuning his telepathic tone last year, in third year). "Want me to tell everyone how I came up with that nickname?"

Of course, Jisoo doesn’t react. He continues his presentation, flicking through the large paper slides floating in the air with a snap of his fingers (a simple object mage trick).

"Jisoo-yah… Come on, what will it take to throw you off?!"

"Hyung", - Hoshi tries again to snap him back to reality, but it’s useless.

If he wants the truth, he’ll get the truth. He wanted sincerity and openness - well, he can just dump it all into his head and enjoy the show.

"If you don’t look at me right now, I’ll start talking about that day."

Ignored. Completely, totally ignored.

Oh, hell no.

"Come on, let’s talk about it. You wanted to, didn’t you?"

"…- adjusting the contact visualization projection from a once-living image", - Jisoo continues, as if nothing happens, - "allows us to contact the time when the photo was taken".

It’s so infuriating.

Frustrated by his vain efforts, Jeonghan only grows more heated, forgetting what he’s even doing.

"Do you remember what you said before you kissed me?"
"That you’d been waiting for it for three whole years."
"Well? Was that not true?"

It’s like nothing is working at all. But Jeonghan knows for sure his signal doesn’t miss the target. He can perfectly distinguish his own thoughts from those he’s transmitting to someone else.

He wants to cry from anger.

"I’ll make you look at me".
"What if I told you I’d been thinking about it for three years before, too, and all last month?"
"About what I really want to do with you".

For a second, his concentration is broken by a coughing fit from a long-haired guy in the next row. A first-year from the Flora and Fauna faculty who apparently got so captivated by the speaker’s gentle, low voice that he forgot to breathe.

Joshua is still calmly talking about the photographs. It’s unbelievable.

He wants to cry from anger, despair, and the sheer unfairness of it all.

"Damn it, Hong Jisoo, what do you want to hear?"
"That I’m jealous of your fucking statues? And I’m jealous of your photos, too. Jealous of everything that gets to be near you more than I do".

"LOOK AT ME".

"Jeonghan", - Hoshi hisses through his teeth, a strained smile plastered on his face for the professor as he uses his hand to pin down his neighbor's textbook, which had begun to levitate, - "You're scaring me. Stop it".

A row over, the long-haired freshman's friend is asking if he's okay.

"Your stupid statues, hear me?"
"I'm right here, and I'm alive."
"I've never said anything like this before, Jisoo."
"I'm so scared, look at me."
"All I want is to kiss you again and fall asleep with you like we did then, like the first time in our first year, remember?"
"I promise I won't run away again, just kiss me one more time."

Watching the commotion a row over and still holding down the textbook, Hoshi covers his face with his free hand in resignation.

"Ah, so that's how it is."

Anger eclipses the common sense. At this moment, when Jeonghan has finally reached that point of despair where he's ready to turn vulnerable, screaming confessions into someone else's mind, he isn't even worthy of a fleeting glance, a nod, or a smile.

Jisoo's lack of reaction becomes a challenge.

"You don't want to talk about it, huh?"
"Then why were you so eager to get me undressed?"
"I remember perfectly what you started to do".
"The way you kissed my neck isn't how you kiss someone drunk at a party, you hear me?"
"All I wanted then was to take off your stupid sweater and make you moan with pleasure for as long as possible".

Coughing from the right grows louder, making the other students glance at each other and whisper, distracted from the lecture. But Jeonghan no longer hears or perceives anything around him.

The strongest area of a wizard's inherent magic, spun out of control, is a terrible weapon turned against himself. Thoughts assault his mind like an invading army.

"What if I told you that all I can think about is how I'd lay you out on this table?"
"And that there's only one effective way to shut you up with your reports, not your confessions?"
"If you'd just let me touch you once, not in a drunken stupor-…"
"…so we wouldn't have to pretend nothing happened the next day-…"
"…I'd never ever let go off you again."

Carried away - that's the word that defines Jeonghan now. He unleashes every description of their tangled kisses, justified only by haze in their minds, that he'd pretended to forget.

But he remembered every point where those tanned fingers touched his pale skin. And now is the perfect time to admit it.

"What do you want me to do for you?"
"What else do I have to do to deserve you?!"

"JUST TELL ME!"

Memories of the happiest night a month ago, which turned into the worst nightmare, flash through his mind like imprints.

Finally, the freshman in the next row jumps up from his seat and, apologizing and bowing along the way, flees the lecture hall.

Jolted by this, Jeonghan slumps back against his chair. The textbook, which have finally soared in the sky, thuds heavily onto the desk. Only now does he realize he's breathing heavily through parted lips, and a scalding tear is rolling down his cheek, burning his thin skin. He quickly swipes it away and stares blankly at the desktop.

This entire time, Joshua never once looked at him.

Ten steps become kilometers, transforming into an infinite distance.

*

His head is splitting with pain now. As if someone have decided to stage a drum solo right in his temples.

"Hyung...", - Hoshi says, dragging out the word, in the cafeteria where he's loading his plate full of kimchi jjigae after three hungry classes.

"Please, don't start", - Jeonghan pleads, poking without appetite at the meal Hoshi kindly brought him.

"I wasn't going to, it's just..."

But Hoshi doesn't get to voice his thought. While still waiting in line, spinning his magic orb in his hands (it was actually a simple toy, like those fortune-telling balls from kids' stores that randomly give you vague answers to "any question" - his real prophecy orb had been swapped for this travesty two days ago by Jeong Jaehyeong, whom he still had to track down. But Hoshi persistently kept pretending to divine only with its help), he notices the now-familiar long-haired first-year nature mage hesitating near them.

"Hi", - Hoshi says, surprised by the low voice that resonates with the initially cute face when the kid finally decides to approach. Jeonghan also lifts his suffering gaze from his sleepy, sticky eyes. All his energy was spent on that uncontrolled magic outburst in ethics class. "Sorry to bother you, but... you are friends with Hong Jisoo from the object faculty, right? I've seen you together. I can't find him. I think he's in trouble."

"Trouble?", - Hoshi asks, surprised.

Jeonghan's gaze becomes more alert and wary in a second.

"Yeah, I... I think someone was trying to send him a telepathic... message. But they accidentally hit me instead".

And just like that, the sleepiness vanishes. Jeonghan's eyes widen in horror, and Hoshi presses his lips into a thin line to keep from laughing.

The puzzle pieces snap together with their jagged edges.

"You're from the Divination faculty, right?" - the first-year continues to chatter. "Kwon Soonyoung, I know you. I saw you at the freshman festival. I tried to reach Hangseol-hyung, but he said he needed to sleep for ten hours to verify every prediction. And the message seemed urgent..."

Hoshi can't hold back a snort of laughter. His friends really gave this freshman a proper initiation, no doubt about it.

Jeonghan, in a state of absolute disbelief, goes back to studying his kimchi jjigae, trying to blend in with its bright red color.

"Sit down", - Hoshi suddenly plays it straight, pulling out his toy-store magic orb with a clever expression. "I’ve understood you, let's just verify it. What's your name?"

He already knows, of course.

"Choi Beomgyu", - the fact that Beomgyu hesitates and acts shy only when it benefits him was already known all over the faculties. He hid a stunning combination of not seeking popularity and having it dumped on his head anyway due to his bright and volatile character. "So, can you figure out who it was?"

"I'll try", - Hoshi nods. He makes Beomgyu cup the orb with his palms, then covers them with his own, closes his eyes, and concentrates for a few minutes, moving their hands together with the toy clockwise.

Jeonghan tears himself away from his state of shock just to grimace in confusion at the happening circus show.

When Hoshi stops, a message lights up on the small screen of the fortune-telling ball:

"What does that mean?" - asks Beomgyu, staring with interest at the little screen. He seems utterly convinced this is one of those quirky divination methods.

"I'm sorry", - Soonyoung says sympathetically, patting his shoulder. "No one implanted these thoughts in you".

"So... I wanted all… That? " - Beomgyu shakes his head hysterically in denial, not even noticing Jeonghan almost sliding under the table from his chair. "But I couldn't have been thinking about that..."

"Our subconsciousness is a scary thing", - Hoshi says in the tone of a seasoned yoga guru. "Don't worry, you're stressed. First year, new environment..."

"No, I'm not-…"

"Shhh", - Soonyoung says smoothly, holding up an index finger between their faces. "That's just the stress talking. Don't worry, it doesn't mean anything. A momentary magical confusion. Go on, the magic ball suggests dropping it. Come back if any symptoms return".

When Beomgyu decides it's indeed better to get as far away as possible from this crazy company and retreats toward his waiting friends, Hoshi folds arms across his chest and arches an indignant eyebrow, turning his full attention back to his classmate, who is still red as a tomato.

"I don't understand", - Jeonghan says, sinking his head into his shoulders. "What happened? Object mages can't block mental magic. Especially mine".

"Don't get too full of yourself", - Soonyoung clicks his tongue and rolls his eyes. "I'll tell you what happened. You mixed thought magic with emotions and nearly shattered that kid's psyche, that's what happened".

"Look who's talking", - Jeonghan mumbles, shoveling the first spoonful of broth into his mouth and immediately wincing because it's cold but still spicy. "'The ball suggests dropping it', seriously?"

"I was improvising", - Soonyoung spreads his hands. "I had to save your ass somehow."

***

The end of the epidemic was celebrated by the long-postponed Tournament of the Five Faculties.

It was hard to imagine that the main culprit behind the mass hysteria would turn out to be Kim Mingyu, who had no idea his simple spell was sending the strongest wizards into a coma, one after another.

But now, with all necessary precautions taken, all apologies made, and all previously afflicted wizards brought back to consciousness, only the Divination faculty traditionally abstains from participating in the University's annual event.

Their task is to take bets on which team is destined to win and claim the tournament cup.

If you want to fool around, you go to Hoshi, who finally got his real magic orb back and now tells everyone it's just like Saruman's. If you want real (illegal) bets, Choi Soobin sits at the very last table with a sly smile, never missing out on a chance to make a killing on the tournament.

Joshua's team, thrown together by chance, is eliminated in the first round, leaving him with nothing to do but watch the two remaining, more fortunate teams fighting for the useless cup.

"How long are you going to keep torturing him?" - Dongyoung asks with a slightly judgmental smile, following the fox-like gaze to the screen, where it is fixed on a blond head darting through the maze designed by the Flora and Fauna professors.

"Yeah, I can totally see how he's suffering", - Jisoo scoffs.

"You're both idiots", - Dongyoung says, sounding somewhere between amused and offended. "And by the way, I was the one who asked him to help us penetrate Jungwoo's consciousness that time. You know that, right?"

Joshua doesn't answer. It's useless to try to get through to him now, so Dongyoung has to shift his interested gaze towards a commotion elsewhere.

To where, not far off, Soobin is irritably shooing Beomgyu, who has brazenly perched on his table like a pesky fly.

"You're blocking my view", - Soobin complains, brushing light hair from his face.

"There's nothing to see. It's already obvious."

Finally tearing his eyes away from the screens broadcasting the stadium action, Soobin looks at his friend.

"You look like you're planning to conquer another planet", - he states, based on his observations.

"Oooooh", - Beomgyu drawls. "Another planet is definitely it."

"And you're aiming for a full-scale invasion? Beomgyu, you can't just latch onto someone on duty like that."

"I have an idea", - Beomgyu says, no longer listening to the moral directives from the guy who runs illegal bets. He hops off the table he'd just settled on and switches to "see the goal, see no obstacles" mode.

Kang Taehyun and Jeon Wonwoo are on duty at the tournament as police officers. Their superiors probably still haven't recovered from the shock of the epidemic, so they take every possible precaution. Everything is so calm that Taehyun is yawning, leaning against a metal barrier, when a former classmate approaches and calls his name.

All this time, Beomgyu has been trying to think of a reason to talk to him again. He's watched from afar the silver hair and the intelligent focused gaze but was afraid to approach without an excuse.

"Officer", - he says with all the seriousness he can muster, which is always feigned anyway - a truly serious Beomgyu only knows how to portray unseriousness.

"What do you need?" - his friend smiles. It seems there was nothing to fear, and he isn't angry anymore. Taehyun's gaze is always calm and penetrating, as if constantly analyzing something.

Luckily, there's always something for him to analyze in Beomgyu.

"I would like to file a complaint for harassment."

"What?" - Taehyun freezes. "Did something happen?" - he asks, concerned. However, after listening to the whole heart-wrenching story, he just rolls his eyes. "My goodness, Beomgyu, what nonsense is this?"

"You don't understand, it's harassment! My rights were violated!"

"I know perfectly well you don't care about that", - Taehyun clicks his tongue. "At most, you're sorry you didn't come up with that prank yourself. Maybe you should just tell me what is the reason behind this show?"

"It's harassment!" - he persists.

"Beomgyu, it's a joke at best. No one even touched you."

"You have no idea how innocent I am..."

Here we go. Choi Beomgyu and a demonstration of his acting skills. Lips in a perfect bow, a suffering look from under his brows, the toe of a sneaker shyly tracing patterns on the ground. The very image of purity and innocence.

But no, that won't work again.

"I went to school with you. I have a pretty good idea what you're like", - Taehyun replies, returning to his refined calm.

Dealing with Beomgyu, you always expect a trick hidden in his sincerity. Taehyun had already chosen his tactic for tonight: to ignore him. Not now, and not during his shift. He'd deal with his feelings later, somehow, when he had time. He'd analyze them thoroughly and file the appropriate conclusions in the right category.

Like the conclusion: "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH CHOI BEOMGYU"

But once again, nothing works out.

"Alright, there's nothing else to do here anyway", - Taehyun gives in, - "Can you tell me in detail what happened?"

*

The end of the tournament is always followed by the opening of the annual festival.

The sun is already setting below the horizon, and the expanded magical courtyard of the University lights up with the warm, colorful glow of fairy lights. Candy stalls and rooms with glowing arcade machines open their shutters.

Right in the center, next to the stadium, a stage for performances rises, and behind it - a tall Ferris wheel with red-and-gold gondolas.

All this magic of light shimmers on the white hair of Yoon Jeonghan, who sits near one of the food stalls.

His team came second due to a stupid mistake at the very end, and now he at least has something to blame for his foul mood.

Defeated, disheveled, upset, and angry, he gnaws on the straw of his milkshake, with no one to turn it into candy.

Wound up with irritation and vulnerability, he sits on a high barstool amidst the parade of all-consuming joy, when Joshua appears opposite him and catches his distressed gaze.

A shimmering ribbon from the awards ceremony, which Jeonghan hasn't noticed, hangs in his fluffy white hair. This sight so unbearably urges Jisoo to smile that he has to cough, covering his mouth with a broad palm and to turn away slightly.

They can't live without each other, but whenever they try to connect, an explosion always scatters them from each other.

There are ten steps between them again.

Jeonghan looks up from under his brows, his gaze warlike and resolute, staring right into his eyes. And judging by how his expression hardens and focuses, he's decided he has nothing left to lose.

"You can't outplay me", - suddenly sounds in the head of a student standing nearby, who flinches and looks around in fear.

"Damn it", - Jeonghan hisses through his teeth aloud. Once again he tries to focus on his target. All he needs is to get into that mousse-styled head. Now it's a matter of honor, life, death, love, and whatever else.

"I'll get to you anyway."

The phrase ricochets into someone else standing nearby.

Joshua takes a step. Nine steps remain.

"You can't make me say it."

Another miss.

Eight steps.

"You already know everything perfectly well."

Miss.

Seven.

"Stop torturing me already."

"What are you doing?" - Jisoo asks, smiling. All he can think about is how much he's missed this entire stupid month and (apparently, a bonus) week, even in the face of that threatening glare. Right now, Jeonghan strikingly resembles a mad professor on the verge of a breakthrough.

"I can't get into your brain because you don't have one", - he hisses viciously.

Six.

Joshua laughs.

Five.

"Don't make me say it out loud"

Misses the target again.

Four.

"So afraid to say it?" - Joshua asks aloud.

"I'm not afraid, I'm conducting an experiment."

Yeah, right.

His heart hammers in a hysterical rhythm.

They didn't teach any of this in class, and yet it's the most real magic.

Three.

From the strain of unsuccessful attempts, the veins on his neck are about to burst. A veil of tears blurs his vision. Jeonghan gathers all his remaining strength in one final effort, bound to succeed.

Two.

Eye to eye.

Across the entire festival, as if from the sky, louder than the playing music, a voice thunders:

One.

Joshua freezes.

Jeonghan slaps one hand over his mouth in horror and immediately adds the other. Only his huge, frightened eyes remain visible.

Jisoo's jaw drops with shock. His eyebrows involuntarily shoot up.

"Was that... you just now?" - he asks, stunned, after a minute of processing.

Jeonghan shakes his head so violently it threatens to fall off, his hands still clamped over his mouth.

People around glance at each other questioningly and look around. But soon they return to their business, finding nothing dangerous in the thunder that suddenly gained a voice.

Between them - still one final step. Joshua has put his sly smile back again.

"So that means... I helped you reach a new level of magic?"

"Shut up. Right now."

Jeonghan is redder than the burgundy table behind him.

When there's no safe distance left, he jumps off the high stool and bolts away. Joshua immediately gives chase but doesn't catch him until Jeonghan gets lost in the muted light under the stadium bleachers, behind the Ferris wheel. At least no one can see them here.

He knows perfectly well: Yoon Jeonghan runs very fast, but not for very long.

"Quiet, quiet, quiet", - he repeats, flailing as Joshua catches up, grabs his wrists, and forces him to stop.

"Jeonghan"

"Nuh-uh", - he shakes his head in every direction, refusing to look straight.

"Just listen", - Joshua has to give him a little shake to get his focus, - "you couldn't get into my head because Dongyoung taught me how to put up a block."

"It wasn't me... wait, what?"

For a second, silence reigns, broken only by the distant screams and fireworks from the festival, which now seems a world away. The round eyes, with their yellow lightning streaks, reflect the shimmering lights from the gondolas of the rotating Ferris wheel.

"I wanted to piss you off, so I went to Dongyoung. When he heard my motivation, he was happy to help. So... well, he taught me how to block telepathy. Besides..." - Joshua is embarrassed but at the same time he can't hide a spark of satisfaction deep in his eyes, - "...you couldn't concentrate because of your emotions, so it was coming out crap anyway."

"Emotions? Me?" - Jeonghan manages to sound so genuinely surprised by this fact that Joshua immediately wants to suggest him starting an acting career instead of his wasted intellectual magic course.

"I just wanted you to say it with your mouth", - he explains.

"I'm going to kill you", - Jeonghan says, completely serious.

"What did you say, 'kiss you'? "

"You're a dead man."

Trying to free his hands, he only ends up more trapped in the tight space.

As if Yoon Jeonghan could have fallen for someone who couldn't outplay him. Jerking nervously again, he bumps his head on a beam, and Joshua immediately catches him, stroking the sore spot.

Jeonghan closes his eyes and almost purrs at the touch.

"You know, if I were your boyfriend, I'd buy you a hair dryer", - Jisoo says, wrinkling his nose affectionately and smoothing down his hair.

"But I already have a hair dryer."

"Then I'd teach you how to use it."

"I'll only agree if you style it for me yourself."

"Agree? Are we not talking theory here?"

Jeonghan freezes, lost in the fox-like eyes, and goes completely limp in his arms. The energy spent on the magical explosion forces him to physically relinquish control. But with sleepy, bright eyes, he looks straight ahead.

"Drop the block," he whispers, diving into the arms opened for him and resting his head on the shoulder. "I want to go there."

His skin burns from the long-awaited touches.

"Where?" - Joshua smiles, nuzzling into the deliciously scented strands with his nose before burying his face in a soft cheek.

"Let me in."

Inside, into you, to get tangled up and finally find myself there, in your thoughts.

Jisoo closes his eyes, dispelling the mental protection magic, and immediately hears the voice inside him.

Kiss me.

Jeonghan's internal touch is too soft, and the sensation of warmth spreads through his entire head, making it feel fuzzy.

"For ruining my life?" aloud.

For the fact that I plan to keep ruining it.

"Do you want to now..."

"A medal for effort."

A whole new level - finishing each other's sentences telepathically.

Jeonghan is inside and out, and there's nothing to be done about it now.

Finally leaning in, Joshua parts the other's lips with his own and immediately closes his eyes. Cold, excited hands wrap around his neck, and the light body allows itself to be gently pressed against the surface behind. It becomes smaller and weaker; a head with disheveled hair rests on a shoulder; lips respond sleepily to the kiss; and then a happy crease forms between the brows from the tickling touches to the nose, forehead, fluffy eyelashes, and soft cheeks.

Joshua's hands are always in some material - and now they slide over pale skin, creating his best and most living masterpiece.

All of Jeonghan's strength is inside his head, and with his thoughts, he dictates what to do with those fingers next, purring aloud into warm lips.

Kilometers shrink to a zero mark on the pedometer.

***

"You don't understand the seriousness of the situation", - Beomgyu laments theatrically, leading Taehyun into an open office in the Nature Faculty and closing the door behind them. Taehyen watches the performance unfolding before him with a faint smile and absolute calm. He leans against one of the desks and folds his arms across his chest. "You have no idea what he threatened to do to me", - Beomgyu presses his fingers to his forehead and winces, demonstrating with all his being how much pain the memories cause him.

"And what was that?" - Taehyun asks, watching where the other's hand is reaching.

"It was horrible, I have to show you in all the details", - Beomgyu clicks the door lock shut and smiles.