Legend [YEONBIN] ✓

eight ; soobin

If the road to Sunghoon’s shop was an alley, this one was a gutter, only wide enough to move single file. The close proximity of the buildings squeezed out the sun’s rays, so the alley sat in constant shadows.

Sunghoon stopped at a wide door made of rusted metal and knocked.

There was no answer for so long, I assumed no one was home. Then it opened a crack and an eye peeked out at them.

“Can I help you?” The voice was male and suspicious, but also smooth and cultured. Not that of someone I would expect to live in such a run-down area.

“We need to see Taehyun,” Sunghoon stuttered.

“He’s busy, come back later.”

I stopped the door from slamming in our faces. I met with surprisingly strong resistance before I pushed the door open and revealed the boy in all his glory.

I had thought him a man before but now saw he was barely younger than me, perhaps eighteen. He stood in a silk pajama set. His hair was mussed like he’d just crawled out of bed. I raised a brow. It was already dusk. I studied the rest of him. He was gorgeous, straight nose, warm brown irises, high cheekbones, and not that tall enough for my head to look up on him in the eyes. Yet, despite his beauty, I felt an aversion to him, like they were two magnets of the same pole, pushing away from each other.

“I don’t like seeing people this early in the day—”

“It’s dinnertime,” I interrupted.

“Your point?” The boy sighed and shuffled away before I answered.

I glanced toward Sunghoon, who shrugged, and we followed through the open door.

It felt like stepping through a portal to another world. I had expected a shabby room with stained concrete walls and dirt-covered floors like outside. Instead, we stood in a gleaming entryway. The walls were a shining white, made out of a material as smooth as glass. Marble floors were warm beneath their feet as they removed their shoes. Pristine-white guest slippers were lined up neatly, and iI slipped into a pair.

Ww walked toward the sound of clanging into a kitchen made of granite and steel. The boy held a bag of coffee beans, glaring at a cappuccino machine so new I doubted it had ever been used.

“We need to see Taehyun. Do you know when he’ll be back?” Sunghoon asked, taking the beans from the boy and pouring them into the grinder attached to the machine. It was just like the shaman to step in to help. My biggest flaw, in my mind.

The boy scowled but deigned to hold out his cup to let Sunghoon make him his espresso.

“What do you want from him?” He leaned against the counter in a pose that seemed styled for the pages of a magazine, Rumpled Pajamas Weekly.

“We need to purchase something from him. A talisman,” Sunghoon explained as he twisted a knob. With a hiss, steaming espresso began pouring out.

“Why would a shaman need to buy a talisman when you could make it yourself?” the boy asked.

“You know I’m a shaman?” Sunghoon stuttered.

“Boy, you practically reek of ghosts.” He gestured up and down at Sunghoon. “I say that with all the affection a guy can muster before his morning caffeine.”

I started to point out the time again, but gave up. “Can you tell us where Taehyun is or not?” I asked, my annoyance starting to get the better of me.

The boy accepted the espresso from Sunghoon with a nod of thanks before downing it in one gulp.

“Well, now that he’s had his espresso, he’s right here.” The boy set the cup down and gave me a wink. I decided I didn’t trust this cocky boy.