Deep End | Hyunlix

57

The yard was quiet now. Smoke curled from spent shells littering the gravel, the acrid stench of gunpowder hanging in the air like a warning. Felix stood still for a long moment, rifle lowered, heart still hammering in his chest. Changbin's laughter seemed to echo between the containers, mocking him, even though the man was gone.

"Felix."

He turned. Chan was approaching, his jaw set, expression unreadable. Han and Seungmin emerged from the other side of the yard, both flushed but breathing steady, their weapons still drawn.

"All clear," Seungmin reported.

Felix nodded once. "Secure what we can and load it up. We're done here."

They worked fast, moving the crates they'd managed to recover into the transport van. By the time the last one was stowed, the sun had shifted behind the clouds, the gray light turning almost silver.

"Where's Changbin?" Chan asked finally, his voice clipped.

Felix's back went rigid. "He got away."

The silence that followed was thick enough to choke on.

"You let him get away," Chan said flatly.

Felix turned, his expression hard. "I didn't let him. He slipped."

Chan stepped closer, anger flashing in his eyes. "You said you'd handle it. That's why we didn't take him down when we had the chance. And now we're leaving with half a shipment and no intel."

Felix felt the heat rise under his collar, his grip on his rifle tightening. "We did what we came to do. We kept the weapons out of circulation."

"That wasn't the only objective and you know it," Chan shot back.

Before Felix could retort, Han stepped between them, one hand pressed against Chan's chest, the other gripping Felix's arm. "Enough," Han said sharply. "We just survived a firefight in broad daylight. You two can kill each other after we get off-site."

Felix forced a breath through his nose and turned away, jaw tight. Chan glared at his back for a moment before stalking off to the van.

Han's hand squeezed Felix's shoulder, not unkindly. "He's not wrong, you know. Losing Changbin could cost us."

Felix said nothing. He couldn't. Because the truth was gnawing at him from the inside out, louder than Chan's anger or Han's caution. Hyunjin isn't doing well. Check his studio. The words stuck like barbs in his chest.

He kept silent through the ride back, staring out the window as the city blurred past. Every bump in the road seemed to rattle the thought loose, make it louder. By the time they reached the compound, his mind was no longer on the weapons or the mission. It was on Hyunjin.

The compound was quieter than usual when they returned. The hum of fluorescent lights overhead and the faint clatter of boots down distant hallways felt louder than normal, almost intrusive.

Felix stayed silent as they cataloged and stored the recovered weapons, letting the others speak in short, clipped updates. Every minute that ticked by was another minute that Changbin's words twisted deeper into his mind like a knife.

When the last crate was logged, Felix dismissed the others. Seungmin left first, tugging off his gloves, Han trailing behind him with a look that said he wanted to stay but knew better. I.N slipped his headset off, rubbing at the back of his neck, muttering something about needing caffeine before disappearing down the hall.

Felix waited until the noise of their footsteps faded. Then he moved. He kept his head down as he walked the length of the corridor, timing his steps so they matched the rhythm of the far-off hum of the ventilation system. His boots made barely a sound. He cut through the storage wing instead of the main hall, avoiding the common area where someone might stop him.

His heart was pounding harder now than it had been at the docks. At the garage door, he paused, scanning the camera mounted near the ceiling. I.N had likely shut off most internal recordings after the mission, but Felix knew better than to assume there weren't backups. He shifted to the far edge of the frame and waited until the rotation of the lens passed before slipping through the door.

The keys to his bike were in his jacket pocket. One twist and he could be halfway to Hyunjin's studio before anyone even realized he was gone. But before he could take a step, a voice cut through the garage.

"Going somewhere?"

Felix froze. Chan stood near the entrance, arms crossed, his expression unreadable but heavy enough to pin Felix in place.
Felix turned slowly, forcing his face neutral. "Just clearing my head."

"By leaving?" Chan's voice was calm, too calm, and somehow that was worse. He stepped closer, each bootfall deliberate. "You've been acting off for days, Lix. Distracted. Today you let Changbin get away, and now you're sneaking out of the compound without telling anyone."

Felix's jaw tightened. "I said I was clearing my head."

"That's not an answer," Chan shot back, closing the distance between them until there was only a few feet left. His eyes searched Felix's face, not aggressively but with an intensity that made Felix want to look away.

The silence stretched, thick and charged.

Felix came up with the first excuse that crossed his mind. "I need air. Space. If I stay cooped up in here, I'm going to lose it."

Chan's brows drew together, the anger in his face softening into something else, something dangerous. Concern. "Lix," he said after a long moment, his voice dropping. "I'm not trying to control you. I just... " He let out a deep breath, rubbing a hand over his face. "I'm worried about you. You haven't been yourself."

Felix swallowed hard, the words catching somewhere behind his ribs. He couldn't tell him. Couldn't tell anyone. "I just need to be alone," Felix said finally, his tone flat but not unkind.

Chan stared at him for another beat, then nodded slowly, reluctantly. "Fine. But don't shut us out completely. We've got your back, whether you tell us what's going on or not."

Felix gave a short nod, not trusting himself to say more.
When Chan finally stepped aside, Felix didn't hesitate. He mounted his bike, started the engine, and drove out of the garage before the older man could change his mind.

The compound shrank in his mirrors, swallowed by the cloudy horizon. Felix's knuckles were white against the handlebars, his heart thundering in his chest.

By the time he reached the edge of the city, the clouds had thickened, casting everything in a muted gray haze. The closer he got to Hyunjin's studio, the heavier the air seemed to feel, every turn of the wheel pulling something tight inside his chest.

When he finally pulled up outside the studio, the engine idled low, vibrating under him. Felix just sat there for a moment, helmet still on, staring at the familiar entrance. The place looked quiet, almost too quiet. His pulse hammered in his throat. Trap or not, Changbin's words were still ringing in his ears. Hyunjin. The studio.

Felix killed the engine, the silence of the street pressing in around him. He swung a leg off the bike and stood there for a long moment, staring at the door, willing himself to move. One step. Then another. Whatever waited for him inside, he would face it.

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1226 words