People once believed that when someone dies, a crow carries their soul to the land of the dead. But sometimes, something so bad happens that a terrible sadness is carried with it and the soul can't rest. Then sometimes, just sometimes, the crow can...
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The dark-haired man watched carefully as the bartender placed three glasses on the bar, then filled them with golden liquid in one skillful movement. When the other, setting down a bottle with a cap shaped like a small, almost furiously red sombrero, finally pushed all glasses towards him, his mouth twitched into a grin, exposing a row of straight teeth. Before his hands even grasped the glass, Taehyung cursed in his mind, wanting at all costs to turn back time to the point where he was making the damn wrong decision to come here at all. At the time, it seemed like a pretty good idea. After all, he hadn't gone anywhere for a long time. But now he regretted this reckless decision, every time the strong alcohol trickled down the back wall of his screamed-scarred throat.
"Don't even look at me like that," the older man scolded before he could even open his mouth to protest, and held out one of the glasses in his direction. "This is for you," he explained, and when he saw his friend's lips parting to refuse, he quickly added: "Before you say anything... It's an official order."
Taehyung snorted and shook his head. Without protesting, however, he finally took a glass from his friend.
He should have thought better before making up his mind to befriend his boss.
He had known Yoongi almost from the very beginning of his service. He met him when, after graduating from the academy, he joined the Seoul unit. The man was only a few years older than him, but he had many impressive achievements to his record. He was smart and fearless. This is why he wanted to get under his wing. He felt that he could learn a lot from him, and he was right.
During these seven years of work, they have experienced a lot together. Their beginnings were not easy. Nor were they among the most pleasant memories he had shared with him. Min was very strict and fucking demanding on him. He kept lashing out at him, telling him to stay overtime. He demanded more of him than of others in the unit. He often thought that the older one would take it out on him when he was in a bad mood, but he quickly understood why Yoongi was doing it - he wanted to make him the best.
And he succeeded.
Taehyung was one of his best people today. He had the most resolved cases and the greatest number of arrests. There was no one in the unit who fired more accurately than he, or no one who was so fierce and so determined.
"This is for you," Min continued, this time handing the other glass to the slender man on the other side of him.
As Taehyung might have expected, his other friend grabbed the glass without hesitation and drank all of its contents almost immediately, then he and Min looked at him expectantly. So he glanced at the glass in his hand and reluctantly lifted it to his mouth, only to pour the golden liquid down his throat a moment later. When a burning warmth spread down his throat, and that specific agave aroma settled on his tongue, he grimaced involuntarily. He quickly grabbed one of the lemon slices previously prepared by the bartender and quickly gritted his teeth on it, sipping the sour juice to minimize the spicy taste of the tequila.
