"I don’t want to jump to conclusions..." Seokmin's fingers brushed against the cold, cracked wall, his gaze locked on the dull, oppressive grey in front of him.
The phone in his hand was heavy with Seungcheol's voice on the other end, every word digging into his mind.
"You got two of these damn messages and didn’t think to tell me?" Seungcheol's voice cut through, sharp and laced with frustration. Seokmin shut his eyes, biting back a sigh.
He had almost forgotten how fiercely overprotective Seungcheol could be, especially when anything brushed against Seokmin's past.
"I could handle it, you know..." Seokmin's voice was steady, but there was a rough edge to it. He wasn’t fragile. He wasn’t some lost cause still haunted by Yeosang.
He would hunt down whoever was behind those letters—be it Yeosang or the devil himself.
Seungcheol’s silence on the other end was thick, almost suffocating. Seokmin could picture him, jaw clenched, eyes darkening with that familiar rage that always simmered just beneath the surface. Seungcheol never knew how to let go, never knew when to stop tightening his grip on what he wanted to protect.
“I don’t give a damn if you think you can handle it,” Seungcheol finally bit out, voice low and dangerous. “I don’t want you near this.”
Seokmin’s lips curled into a bitter smile, his fingers digging into the rough wall as if anchoring himself to reality. “You’re not my keeper, Seungcheol.”
“No, but I’m the one who’s going to bury anyone who tries to mess with you,” Seungcheol snapped, his voice crackling with barely restrained anger. “Especially if it’s him.”
Seokmin laughed, a dark, humorless sound. He wasn’t scared of Yeosang anymore. The man was nothing but a ghost, a lingering shadow that Seokmin was determined to exorcise.
“He’s dead,” Seokmin says, his voice flat. “You shot him, remember?” The words leave his mouth, but a chill settles in his mind. If Yeosang was dead, then who the hell was behind this?
“When are you coming back?” Seungcheol shifts the conversation, his tone clipped. Seokmin turns, his eyes landing on Joshua in the kitchen.
Joshua stands there with a cookbook in his hands, small glasses perched delicately on his nose, blonde hair pulled back in a neat ponytail.
Seokmin watches the way he moves, completely immersed in making dinner, his expression serene.
“I’ll come back when I feel like it, which might never be, considering Joshua’s here,” Seokmin says, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, the phone still pressed to his ear.
His gaze lingers on Joshua, who is busy stirring pasta in a pot, the warm scent filling the kitchen.
“You have a business to run here,” Seungcheol snaps, frustration bleeding through.
“And you’re there,” Seokmin replies coolly, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
There’s a pause, a heavy silence between them, before Seungcheol’s sigh crackles through the line, tired and resigned.
“Come back—” Seungcheol’s voice pleads through the phone, but Seokmin cuts him off with a weary sigh. “Have a good day.” He ends the call abruptly, ignoring Seungcheol’s frustrated protests that linger in his ears.
Seokmin twirls the phone in his hand, letting the tension slip away as he walks over to where Joshua is busy in the kitchen.
“Do you prefer white or red sauce? Or should I make both?” Joshua asks, glancing up at Seokmin, a stray strand of blonde hair falling over his face.
YOU ARE READING
Arrange Devotion | SS
FanfictionBOOK #2 They say love heals scars, but Seokmin's scars were lessons-bitter reminders that twisted him into a creature of darkness. His life was a series of brutal lessons that shaped him into someone who burns with an unquenchable fire. Protecting...
