Hellhounds || Chanminsung ✔️

1

I throw my bags on the floor of my apartment when I walk in. Today was not my day. Shitty classes, shitty people, shitty everything.

Trudging to the kitchen, I open the fridge to grab out a bottled water. The bottle fogs up almost as soon as I take it out.

Just cool down, Jisung. Shut up, Jennifer. Who the fuck is Jennifer? I don't know.

I run my hands through my freshly cut hair. I had gotten it cut yesterday, and I loved it. It made me feel lighter.

"What's up with you?"

Chan comes up behind me, having no effect. I wasn't in the mood to even get frightened. I wasn't sure if that was a good or bad thing.

"Nothing," I reply, setting my water down and leaving him standing there. I barely even looked at him. Was that rude? Did I upset him? Does it even matter?

"Your heart is pounding. What happened?" He comes after me while I pick up my bag.

"Like I said, nothing." Couldn't he leave it alone? Did demons understand that concept of being left alone? I mean, they weren't stupid, but they could be naive to human things.

A bad feeling grew in the pit of my stomach, but I wasn't sure what it was. "Where's Minho?"

"Playing poker with some of the guys."

I stop to think, unconsciously staring down at the ground. Who? Humans or demons? Because demons didn't like to play fair, they liked to play violent. Minho wasn't stupid, though. I don't think.

Chan takes the bag out of my hand and hangs it up on the hook by the door. "Now tell me, what's wrong?"

I shrug, frowning at him. "Just a bad day." I walk off again, but I get pulled back gently by my arm.

He leans down, capturing my lips in his. Bloody tingles are sent down my spine, exciting my body. I was floating, feeling warmth and comfort surround me.

When he releases me, I'm left in a daze. Sometimes demons sucked. Other times, they were just what I needed.

Neither of us said anything. He dragged me to the couch, sitting me on his lap. I leaned onto his shoulder only to feel that sharp, negative pain in my stomach again.

"Something's wrong," I whisper, sitting up.

"He's okay." He pushes me back down.

"Maybe he is, but who isn't? What isn't? I can feel it."

"How long has your anxiety been up today? Did you take your meds?"

I stay quiet, knowing damn well I hadn't. I was in a rush today. Slept in. Ran to class. Just barely passed a test. Had an anxiety attack in the bathroom. That was the last time I saw Minho today. He popped in when he felt our bond tighten and then helped me through.

I breathe in through my nose, feeling my heart rate slow. I lift a hand to rub the two marks on my shoulder; I really got a two for one deal. "I'm okay."

"You really need to take those."

"I have been. I just forgot."

_____

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