Monster (ONEUS Seoho x Ravn/Seojo)

Week 3, Day 2

I awoke with a raging headache. I rested my elbows on my pulled up knees as I massaged my temples to no avail. I rolled out my neck and shoulders, a sick feeling swirling around in my body. As I slumped my way to the bathroom, I was relieved to realize that there was no more work to be done anymore after the final stall check aside from the fair itself that was around two weeks away.

I felt somewhat better after splashing cold water on my face. Upon leaving the bathroom and changing for the day, I heard the faint rustle of paper on the desk. I frowned slightly as I glanced at the desk, catching a glimpse of something written on a single piece of paper.

Half dressed with curiosity pushing out the short-lived sickness I felt in the morning, I walked over and picked up the paper. In messy penmanship like that of a child just starting to learn how to write was scribbled:

Follow them from the second

My frown only deepened. Was this from him? What was I following? Where or what was the second?

Before more questions could form in my head, someone knocked on the door, and I could only assume it was Hwan Woong because as of yet, no one's come this early in the morning to my room. I rushed to throw on my shirt before flinging open the door.

He snorted at the sight of me, and it had to be because of the lopsided manner in which I wore my shirt. I cursed him out in my head as a blush crept up my neck.

Hwan Woong didn't even remark, he just simply handed over my breakfast tray as he continued to snicker and shake his head. I made a face at him before closing the door on him.

I hastily set the tray on the desk before fixing my shirt, finding I had put it on inside out with a mismatched pairing of the buttons. Once that was settled, I plopped myself on the chair of the desk, stabbing my fork into the scrambled eggs. As I chewed, I noticed what seemed to be a folded piece of paper tucked underneath the plate. I lifted the plate up a bit and slipped it out.

I undid the perfect creases, a quite humorous contrast to his handwriting, and read:

What separates the second floor from the dirt?

I cocked my head to the side as I set my fork down, contemplating before feeling rather foolish when I figured the answer was the first floor. What was so special about the first floor? After finishing my breakfast, I tried asking him as I tapped on the side of the bed, but there was no response. Perhaps this was something I had to piece together myself and seeking out his help would take away the entire purpose.

When I set my tray on the stand outside my room, my foot stepped on something and when I pulled it back, I saw another folded piece of paper. I crouched to release it of the weight of the stand's wooden leg. Leaning against the door's threshold, I read the contents of this new note:

What is the underground room in which things sit pretty as they collect dust?

A basement? As I looked up, I began to ponder what could possibly be of importance in a basement he would want me to find. Before my mind could start to race, I heard the flutter of paper. My ears and eyes sought out where it had come from when I saw it half hanging from a passing servant's pocket. He was making his way to the elevators, and I sped to catch up to him.

I almost ran into his back when the doors pulled apart and he looked over his shoulder at me with not very subtle distaste. I sensed he became more irritant when I followed him inside. His cold eyes stayed on me until the doors closed, which they seemed to take their sweet little time doing, and I gave him a rather awkward smile and a stuttered bow.

When he wasn't judging my very existence, I quickly slipped the paper from his pocket, hiding it behind my back as he snarled at me curtly before turning back to the doors.