pur autre vie • p.js | ✔

book two ❧ [i]

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, looking around the coffee shop that you were at. Your eldest stepbrother had asked to meet with you, and you couldn't imagine that it was anything good—certainly not just to get coffee and catch up. You hadn't ordered anything, wanting to be able to make a quick escape if needed.

Seohyuk usually didn't request a meeting with you. If he wanted to talk to you, he typically called to tell you he was going to stop by on his way to or from work, or just dropped by unannounced. That's why you were extra on edge. You had arrived early, and kept checking the time every two minutes or so.

Finally, you saw him walking in, and thankfully he was alone, not accompanied by either of his younger brothers or his mother. Seohyuk was much easier to handle on his own. You made eye contact with him, but didn't wave or make any move to stand up and greet him as he arrived at your table. He sat down across from you, looking rather disheveled. His hair was unkempt as if he'd been running his fingers through it all day and hadn't looked in a mirror to fix it, his tie was loose and askew, his dress shirt crumpled, and his suit jacket that you knew he typically wore to work was missing entirely. He was also pink-cheeked and seemed to be trying to hide how heavily he was breathing, as if he had run here and didn't want you to know.

"Good afternoon, Seohyuk," you said politely, opting not to comment on his appearance.

He cleared his throat. "Good afternoon, Y/N."

"Do you have a concern with the house? Or is this a question about possessions?" You decided to just be direct. Those were pretty much the only two things he ever contacted you about.

When your mother passed away six months ago and you moved out of her and Hyukjun's house, the property had gone to your three stepbrothers. Which meant that your life since then had been a seemingly endless string of inquiries over you "damaging" the home while you had lived there, or you "stealing" stuff that was "rightfully" theirs when you moved out—i.e., items that were actually your mother's, but they tried to claim were Hyukjun's.

"The house," he sighed, rubbing his face. "Do you want it?"

You couldn't hide your surprise, your carefully neutral expression falling right off your face. "Wait, what?"

"Do you want the house?"

"Like, Hyukjun's house? The one that you just got?" You clarified. "You're... trying to sell it to me? I appreciate the offer, but I don't have the money to buy a house."

"No, no, you can have it," he sounded and looked absolutely defeated.

You narrowed your eyes at him, immediately suspicious. "What's wrong with it? What could you have done to it in six months?"

"Nothing! Nothing!" He pleaded. "It's pretty much the same, we actually fixed up some of the wiring, stuff like that. We've tried to rent it out, but nobody will stay."

"You can't keep your renters?"

"We've had four different tenants, none of them lasted longer than a month."

"What? Why? It's a great house."

Seohyuk's face screwed up as if he just ate a lemon; he clearly didn't want to tell you the reason.

"Come on, I already know somebody died in the house," you scoffed. "What is it?"

"They all said it's haunted," he finally blurted out. "And I mean, you know it's an old house, it creaks and stuff sometimes—I tried to tell them that. They said the lights would flicker, so we replaced the bulbs. Cold spots—We had a guy look at the A/C, he said it was fine. Then it was things disappearing from one room and reappearing in another room, and they swore nobody who lived there moved them. One couple said they started on a jigsaw puzzle before they went to bed and when they woke up, it was all put together."