Bad Blood || K. Jongin

13| Comfort In The Cold

∘∘☥∘∘☥∘∘☥∘∘

(Lyra)

"23 stands for the number of people I've killed."

Somehow, this information doesn't shock me as much as I thought it would. It only makes sense that someone like him would have taken that many lives. Death means nothing to these men.

I should have expected it, but i'm still left in revelation. "D-does it change?" I look up at Kyungsoo tiredly.

Judging by the regretful look on his face, he knows exactly what I mean.

The mafia man stares at the cigarette between his fingertips, before putting it out on the nearest ashtray. "That was over two years ago." He answers.

I fall silent, still unsure of what to say as I stare harshly at the markings that carpet his arm.

Kyungsoo stands next to me abruptly, one hand occupied with beer and the other with rubbing alcohol. "Im not under Chinho anymore.. retired if you say."

He gives me a once-over before setting his items down on the floor. "Ive killed more people. More than I can remember." The small man with chiseled features kneels down, taking my foot to examine it. "I've lost track of how many I've killed."

"Are they at least bad people?" The words slip out of my mouth before I can stop them.

"Yes, pretty much scum that nobody cares about. Rival mob men that sell drugs and human merchandise."

"What are you, then?"

Kyungsoo shrugs. "I guess you can call me an underpaid hit man."

My gaze shifts to the room where Jongin is asleep. "What about him?"

"Same thing, except he is under the Kkangpae, and doesn't get paid. Chinho has taken care of him since his mother left him in the streets."

Nephew.

This is the only life he knows.

"He's killed more than me, surprisingly."

31, and probably more than that. There were only 31 tallies, but space for more.

The thought made me sick.

Kyungsoo runs his fingers across my bruised ankles, inspecting the multiple fresh cuts that cover my feet. "What happened to you?" He asks, grimacing as he pours rubbing alcohol onto a napkin, beginning to clean my wounds.

"I don't know much myself." I mumble, biting down on my lip to mask a squeal of agony. The burning sensation causes me to flinch backwards, tears stinging the corners of my eyes.

Kyungsoo doesn't react to my discomfort. "Tell me."

"Everything?"

"Everything." He grunts, black eyes concentrating as he continues to tend my wounds.

I really don't want to, especially to someone like him. But since he asked, he has no right to complain. It takes me a moment to conjure up an explanation, but when it finally comes I can't seem to stop myself. "I came here, who knows how long ago... to visit my grandmother, It was the first time I met her, but I stayed at an expensive hotel for the night. I was so stupid, I should have just stayed inside my room..but I thought I would be safe." I exhale shallowly, wanting to laugh out loud at my stupidity. "I went to get ice, and bumped into Jongin."

I find myself telling Kyungsoo every detail. "He acted so shocked that I was on that floor, apparently I wasn't supposed to be. But I booked it over 2 months ago... I still don't get it."