"People hating me doesn't faze me. People loving me...that would be concerning."
A group of criminals with supernatural powers are getting ready for the biggest heist of their lives, but for it to work they need Kimhan the Executioner.
However, it'...
— take me instead, take me now, for who I am without him if not dead anyway? —
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Chay.
Chay.
Chay.
Bullet.
Blood.
Eyes scared and helpless.
And the unspoken—Kim—on those lips Kim knew so well.
All of that, so much and yet so little, was flooding Kim's mind like the most devastating tsunami.
He couldn't save him.
He couldn't reach him in time.
He wasn't fast enough.
He wasn't good enough.
If he was. If he tried more. Did better. He would catch him. He would hold Chay in his arms, and everything would be alright. It was just one bullet, right? It's Chay. His Sparky. He could heal himself. One bullet was nothing. One bullet they could handle. Even though it hurt Kim as if the bullet was in his chest instead of Chay's, but still, Chay was able to handle it.
But this... They were too high, and his Sparky was falling. Falling like a droplet of rain. Falling like a leaf in the wind. They were too high and he was falling for too long. And Kim couldn't watch it. He couldn't. Not his Chay. His Chay was safe. His Chay was right there with him.
No, he wasn't.
Kim screamed. He ran. He ran downstairs. Maybe if he would run fast enough, he would be down sooner than Chay. He could catch him. Make sure that he was okay. Take care of him. Hold him close. Save him. Save him. Save him.
Kim didn't care if someone would see him running down or not. He couldn't care less if this entire fucking heist would end in ruins. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered just his Chay. He had to be alive. Had to be! No one could take Kim's light out of his life, not even death!
"Please," for the first time in forever, Kim prayed to god. "Please, god, don't take him away from me. Don't ruin my life again."
He was still running. It felt as if those stairs were a never-ending spiral, trapping Kim in so that he couldn't get to his love. To his life. Never again get to him. Never be able to save him. Relieving this nightmare for the rest of his useless life.
What if Chay had already fallen? What if he was lying there in the pool of his own blood, slowly being covered with a peacefully gentle rain? Kim wanted to die. He wanted to die instead of Chay. He deserved to die. His Chay didn't. His angel. His beautiful angel.
"Shit, Kimhan! Watch here the fuck you are going!"
It was Porsche's voice, but Kim barely registered it. He just wanted to finally get to his Chay.
