Meridian ◈ Seungjin

5 ◈ Azathoth

He leaned against the mirrors in the dance room, the handle of the wooden broom resting carefully against the inside crux of his shoulder as he folded his arms neatly over the gentle typhoon of his breathing. His gaze trained on the tips of his shoes, unable to move from that pensive position, unable to pull his lips into anything but a stark frown as he allowed his mind to suffocate him over the events of the last few days. As if the edge of his converse would hold any answers for him beyond how many seconds he could waste gaping at another universe running parallel to this one. It seemed easier than this one. As Hyunjin's hold on the old broom tightened, he wished he could be whisked along like the dust he was previously cleaning off the floors of the otherwise neat room.

Hyunjin's frown evolved into a firm scowl. 

He pressed away from the mirrors with a firm shake of his head. Gingerly, the broom was taken up in his palms as he reluctantly resumed his original purpose in the room. Clean the floors. Clean, make sure the tan coverage is spotless, dispose of trash he was able to pick up, worry and let the adverse effects of acknowledgement be soaked into the marrow of his bones. The longer he let it fester, the easier it seemed those bones would break. They would snap without warning, leaving him helpless. Grounded without a functional limb to run on. Stranded. Like the strands of hair and plastic bottle caps he managed to find in the conjoining corners of the otherwise spotless room, he was left behind. As he swept them into his dustpan, and dumbed them into the trash bin, he too was discarded so easily.

Maybe not, Hyunjin shook his head again, I think I'm being a bit dramatic with that analogy.

He quickly finished the messy cleaning job and propped the broom against the mirror, letting himself linger by the glass sheets to stare down the creature on the other side. That creature was looking back. A foul beast, one of destruction, of forced lucid nightmares, of thought curdling screams, of those red eyes boring into his every movement, of wanderings in a twilight dawning; Supposedly he was one of those creatures. Despite that, he looked human. He acted human. Yet, a lingering fear in the back of his mind told him to step away from the mirror, step away from his own reflection for fear that drilling stare would coax him on. Tell him, 'A few seconds more', and he would fall under a deranged hypnosis. Hyunjin could already hear the him on the other side of the looking glass keening, and whispering, of all the atrocities he dared to commit.

In the reflection of the mirror, he caught sight of the door to the dance room slowly creeping open. Hyunjin turned towards the new addition to the room.

Seungmin's eyes danced around the dance room, gaze training and scanning for a needed object within the endless passage of reflections. As they landed on an evermore impatient Hyunjin crossing his arms over his chest to defend himself from the other, Seungmin let out an audible scoff chased by a degrading huff of annoyance as he pressed away from the door. He moved to deliver the small stack of white papers to a rack near the front of the room, a place only a teacher would touch within the hours of the room behind functional. His eyes narrowed into those disintegrating slits as his tongue rolled out a snap, "Why are you alone?"

Hyunjin's jaw tensed, a glare chasing the younger's back. He's going to get mad at me for being alone? I can't ever please this guy, can I?

"Cleaning," He offered simply. But not without difficulty, a conscious effort hitting into his cheeks to hold back a snide remark or sharp word for knowledge that it would only be used against him when judged by twelve. If not for that, if only not for that. Hyunjin grabbed the broom off the mirror, hoping it would act as an excuse to distract him despite the fact the floors had already been cleaned. He began sweeping again, muttering, "No one else wanted to stay behind."

"It's late. Curfew will be in effect soon," Seungmin turned away from the teacher's rack, his hands brushing over a forgotten laptop's keyboard as the item sat perched in it's general location on the bottom shelf resting at hip level. He inspected his fingertips, shaking the slight layer of dust pooling on them as he turned back to Hyunjin, as if that motion was trying to mock him. As if he was nothing more than the discarded dust. When the vampire kept his gaze down, that immediate understanding of the gesture clamping him into a subconscious submission, Seungmin tilted his chin in and demanded, "Doesn't that worry you? Unless, you're waiting for someone."