Author's pov..
"What are you doing here?" Jisung turned around to see a woman standing in the doorway, her hands on her hips, glaring at him.
Minho, still standing close to Jisung, let go of his wrist with a soft chuckle. "Proposing to your son, ma’am," he said, his tone smooth as he walked past Jisung and toward the woman. He offered her a polite, almost charming smile.
The woman didn’t look impressed. "Whatever," she muttered, turning her back on them. She walked toward the door of the house, unlocking it with a sharp motion.
Jisung couldn’t hold back his frustration. "You still don’t care? I don’t even know him!" he yelled, his voice filled with disbelief.
The woman didn’t even turn around, merely shrugging as she walked inside, giving Minho a sly smirk over her shoulder before slamming the door behind her.
Minho’s smile never faded as he turned back to Jisung, eyes glinting with amusement. "You soon will," he said, his voice quieter but still carrying that same edge.
Before Jisung could say anything more, Minho stepped forward, grabbing his waist, pulling him close with a firm but not unkind grip.
The sudden proximity caused Jisung’s heart to skip a beat, and he found himself blinking up at Minho, his eyes growing glossy with a strange mixture of emotion.
"I don’t care if you're a serial killer anymore," Jisung said, his voice shaky but loud, as if trying to convince himself more than anyone. "Just take me away from here."
Minho looked at him with that same unreadable expression, then smiled—a dark, knowing smile. He didn’t say anything at first. Instead, he just nodded, turning Jisung towards the car.
"Alright," Minho said, the word casual, like it wasn’t a big deal. But the way he looked at Jisung, there was something in it, something deeper than just simple words. "Let’s go."
---
The ride was quiet. Jisung drifted in and out of consciousness, the exhaustion from everything hitting him all at once. He could barely keep his eyes open as Minho drove, his hands gripping the steering wheel with a steady, almost relaxed precision.
They eventually arrived at a place Jisung wasn’t expecting. A large, white mansion loomed in front of him, its lights shining brightly against the night. The kind of place that looked more like a dream than reality—too grand, too beautiful to be real.
Minho parked the car, and before Jisung could ask anything, he was gently scooped up into Minho’s arms. The moment felt unreal—like he was trapped in a fantasy he didn’t quite understand but couldn’t escape from either. His eyes fluttered closed as Minho carried him inside, the sound of his soft footsteps echoing in the large, quiet house.
He was laid down on a bed—soft, expensive sheets beneath him—and Jisung, too tired to resist, let himself settle into the comfort. He didn’t even have the energy to look around at the lavish bedroom, the luxurious feel of the house. All he could focus on was Minho, standing by the bed, his gaze still on him.
Minho stood there for a moment, his expression softening. He bent down and brushed a strand of hair away from Jisung’s forehead, then pressed a light kiss there.
"I’m not a serial killer, baby," Minho whispered, his voice low and sincere. "But for you… I’d burn the whole world in the blink of eye."
The words hung in the air for a moment before Minho straightened, his eyes still locked on Jisung. Without another word, he walked out of the room, going to his own.
