Monster (ONEUS Seoho x Ravn/Seojo)

Week 2, Day 1

It's been roughly five days since I last met with Mister Na Mil and still no word about my stall. At this point, I could care less. Let Father tear me to pieces for failing yet again. He should've learned all those years back that I was never one who mingled well with his business endeavors. Therefore, I didn't phone him personally nor did I constantly request poor Hwan Woong to check if he called himself.

Instead, I was intent on getting to the bottom of Miss Nari's eldest son. Of why my once died out flame towards him sparked again ten years later. Of why I can't remember his name. Of why a mysterious shadowy figure, sometimes invisible being, decided to room with me. Of why he shows up in my mind wearing that coat.

I had a strange yet potent gut feeling that it had to do with the "monster" under the bed Si Woon, Miss Nari's youngest, warned me about my first night here.

As crazy as it sounds, I sought out to get to it, him, first. All that I had experienced thus far happened at night, either just before I went to bed or when I lay to sleep, so I decided to talk to whatever it was then.

Yes, I was going to talk to it because I didn't have access to the fancy equipment used in those popular ghost hunting films. All I had were my words, and I had to use them well to try and reach something that I have no guarantee is actually real. The question is: What do I even say?

This wasn't a simple Excuse me, my name is Lee Seo Ho and you? type of conversation.

I spent the entire day pondering over the right words. Countless sheets of paper with scribbled words and angry lines crossing out those words went to waste as I tried to sow together a reasonable sentence as if it were a puzzle with too many pieces that never quite fit.

When night fell, I scrunched up yet another paper and tossed it to the pile collecting where the boxes of clothes sat for my stall at the fair. I reached the conclusion that I would just have to put everything Father "taught" me about speech over the years and conjure something up on the spot. No doubt it would be messy and maybe somewhat childish, but I had to at least try.

There was a stern determination in my movements as I got ready for bed, as if each thing I got done was an important step closer to getting some of my questions answered.

This time, fear didn't wash over me as I turned my room lamp out, darkness engulfing everything around me with the faint and hazy moonlight pouring in through my window.

I climbed into bed, lazily draping the blanket over me. I wanted to wait at least an hour or two, let the restlessness build up so much to the point where I couldn't stand it anymore.

I listened to the stillness of my room and the occasional voices of other hotel guests milling about, not ready to call it a day just yet. When I started to toy with my fingers and toss and turn - I knew it was time. I sat up in bed and tried my best to read the clock perched on the wall above the boxes. From what I could make out, I lasted a good hour.

Carefully, I peeled the blanket off of me and swung my legs over the edge of the bed. I slid off the mattress and knelt to the side of the bed. Gently, I tapped the wooden panel making up the frame with the palm of my hand.

I noticed there were no nerves ricocheting about in my body. My heart wasn't beating two times faster than it should be and my hands weren't sweating out of the heat of the moment. It was like a glass filled dangerously to the very brim, and I had no fear of spilling it over nor the mess that would result.

I cleared my throat to speak, however, my tongue was glued to the roof of my mouth. I was at a loss for words, and I felt a blush waft over my cheeks. I looked over to my right at the messy pile of crumpled papers and rejected words. I went with the first set that was still fresh in my mind.

I turned back to the side of the bed and moved to sit cross-legged.

"What are you?" My voice came out squeaky, and I immediately wanted to chastise myself. To whatever this was, I probably sounded pathetic, laughable.

I kept on nonetheless. "I've always wondered if you're just another ghost that likes to haunt people and play with their heads like they do in the films or if it's really you," tears started to pool in my eyes. I began to toy with my fingers, bowing my head.

"I hope it's you," I whispered, lips quivering slightly.

I craned my neck all the way back to try and suppress some of the tears as I blinked rapidly. I swallowed, rolling out my shoulders and continuing, "Can you come out?"

I wanted to chuckle at myself. I made it sound like I was a child asking a friend to come out and play until the sun went down and our parents started to yell for us to get back inside before it got too dark.

"I'd like to see you just once." What I didn't say was I miss you so much, and you will never know the depth of my longing for you. Seeing you once more would give me the peace of mind I've been striving to achieve since you left.

Nothing happened. There was no sign - no movement, no shift in the air, nothing.

I sighed defeatedly as my shoulders sagged. I should've known it was futile. It was naive of me to think that there was a chance he was still here. He was killed in the raid. He was dead, gone, he was never coming back. I think this just showed me that I needed to let go once and for all.

As I started to get up, I heard tapping from the other side of the wooden panel. I lowered myself again and listened, alert.

"Sit back against the wall."

A deep, almost muffled voice spoke from underneath the bed.

I was stunned for a moment before I did as I was told. I pulled my knees up to my chest as I waited. All of a sudden, this loud noise, akin to that of a vacuum machine, sounded and there. he. was.

His mop of shaggy hair. His big eyes which were now brownish red compared to when they were a dark coffee brown. His smooth skin. His sharp nose and lips.

I scoffed as my hands slowly came up to cover my mouth.

"It's you, it's really you," I whispered. His eyes searched me as a small frown creased the middle of his forehead, and I felt a tiny pang in my heart because what if he didn't recognize me?

I decided to take a chance and reached a hand up to cup his cheek. His skin was cold but just as soft as I remembered. I hooked my fingers behind his ear. I swallowed as I leaned in closer. My lips hovered there in the miniscule space between us and when he didn't pull back, I pressed mine to his.

His lips were hard but oh so sweet. I experienced dizzy deja vu of that night at the party when I had first kissed him. Not much had changed, that and the fact he had melted into the kiss as well, warmed my heart.

When I pulled away, our lips remained there, inches apart, brushing against each other here and there, and I itched to kiss him again. But when I made a move, he widened the distance between us. I felt my entire being droop.

But then he winked at me with a hint of a smirk before the vacuum sound came back and he was sucked under the bed.

I scoffed again, this time more light-hearted. Even now, in whatever state he was in, he didn't fail to live up to his name.

He was known as the heartthrob. Every girl in Utharia wanted him. Just for the sex of course and bragging rights that they got a taste of him. I don't necessarily blame them. He was tall and devilishly attractive - the latter remained forever true. He was also humble and a true gentleman.

He never did anything with any girl though. Old rumor had it that he was gay. It spread like wildfire after someone supposedly caught him kissing the male bartender at the back of a pub. And that's worse than chemicals frying your brain from dying your hair.

I felt somewhat cocky, knowing I was one of the rare people who knew what it was like to be in that close proximity with the one and only.

It took about fifteen minutes for me to pick myself up and get back in bed. Even after my body had settled into the mattress, I couldn't sleep. He was here. Although he did look a bit different and neither did I understand why or how he ended up here when he had supposedly died ten years ago, but we would sort that out later, what mattered was that I could reach out to him once more. I made a promise to myself and him that I would never let go this time.