To Capture a Heart ; Minsung

murder your faith

song recs: dawn - kim woo seok
I NEVER EXISTED - chase atlantic

When it was Jisung's prime time back in the police force, he had spent hundreds of hours of his precious time wiping the floors with criminals who hadn't learnt to walk before they could run. It was woeful. Piteous, even. At least, that's what he, a man who genuinely walked one earth with common sense, believed.

Now he was trapped behind a new plastic door, within a different prison cell. Off-planet. Which would be deemed as more piteous?

It was a question he frequently asked himself as time ran for it's life. Jisung didn't know the answer.

Minho had said that it was for his own good; that he was doing him a favour by locking him up. Minho, that damned man! That damned, gorgeous man... he couldn't stop his eyes from lingering on him. In every place possible. But really, he should learn to.

Of course, he wasn't alone in his irate admiration. He had discussed it with the wreath of begonias placed in the far corner of his cell during his lonesome hours. It was the only thing he could talk to his issues about- so, he did. He had assumed the wreath had agreed- that he wasn't going insane, despite the conversation being pretty non-responsive on his side.

But, still, he had a plan. A very good plan, he told himself. He just hoped Minho wouldn't be there to knock it off the table. God, he hated the way that viscious smile would grow every time his usual plans met the same fate. 

Minho was an idiot. A vapid fool. An incorrigible parasite. Yet, Jisung was the one doing the clinging.

He couldn't get enough. He needed to murder his faith. But, he acted on the wrong one. And that's where it started.

"Ay, snitch! Get up, now." It's Trista. Jisung doesn't move. "What?" Trista cocks an eyebrow, a blade emerging from her pocket. "Don't 'what' me, twat. I won't hesitate to drag this blade across your untouched skin." Jisung scoffs- who's to say it was untouched?

"Right... well, where's Minho?" He asks, standing up from the floor and brushing himself off.

"Never mind Minho. Just come with me." With no other choice, he watches as the door rises, stepping out cautiously. He was still a little shaken up from the previous events. Trista only laughs.

They make their way to the control room, Jisung guesses, though he wasn't certain. Journeys like these were never confirmed. Especially if you were walking beside a mass murderer that mostly likely had plans to bite your head off. The usual, of course.

They enter the control room- his guess was correct- where the others are scattered about; Byungho standing up with a 'king's jinxed crush' in hand, Esme sitting down while furiously tapping her wounded leg. Minho's leaning against the panels. A smirk sinks into his face once he notices Jisung's arrival.

"Ah, there's the ex-officer. So glad you could make it, Jisung."

Jisung frowns. "Adding fuel to the fire, are we?"

"You know me."

Jisung strides towards him, trying not to smile. He then stares outside the windshield, which gives him a view of the entirety of space swallowing the Estrader whole; into it's belly of eternal emptiness. He shivers. "Why did you bring me here?"

Minho looks at his fingers, then at Jisung. "Well," he turns towards the panel instead, "the Estrader is facing a few... technical difficulties. So, auto-pilot will be automatically disabled in a couple hours. I figured..." He worries his lip.

That is when Jisung's grin finally breaks through. "Are you asking a favour of me, Lee Minho?" He tilts his head. Minho doesn't look back.

"Consider it as returning the favour. On your part of course," he responds blankly, "or else we'll all be dead soon enough." Esme groans at the two of them, clenching her jaw. "He'll be dead sooner if you don't hurry this up."