DEEP

7. ΠΥΡΟΒΟΛΗΣΕ ΤΟΝ

[Hi! Little authors note sksks, thanks to those who are reading! This is my first real story and it means a lot to have anyone reading, even if it's only three people :) ]

You feel the water run down your skin. You look down at your body, rubs a hand over your visibly hungry stomach and traces the lines of your ribs. You wipe away the grime, sees the light skin underneath for the first time in weeks. You turn the nob higher, feels the water come down hotter. Steam fills the stall, hugs your skin, and you lean forward, forehead against the cool tile. Your eyes feel heavy, lulled to the sound of water and the smell of sandalwood.

You grudgingly step out of the stall, shivering at the sudden cool. You grab a white towel off the warmer, wraps it around your shoulders and lets out an audible sigh at the luxury.

You wipe a hand over the mirror, inspects the bruises on your torso, the scabbed cuts. Your fingers trail over a particularly ragged piece of flesh, prodding it with light fingers.

You flinch suddenly. You clutch the edge of the sink when the pain doesn't cease and overtakes you; gasps when the feeling rakes across your skin, burns against the tips of your fingers. You struggle to keep your eyes open, not let them close to the blackness, to the shadows that hold faceless apparitions and knife wielding specters.

You hold your eyes open, tries to focus on the white all around you, but finds the action fruitless. The sounds of your own screaming, even if just memory, resound against the inside of your skull, pull your back from the white, from this safety. It pulls you back into the darkness.

You fall against the bathroom floor, its sharp coldness shocking you out of the hallucination. You breathe in through your mouth quick, exhales deeply.

I'm in too deep you think.

Through the door you see a white princess cut mermaid dress hanging carefully in the closet, waiting. You breathe in, feels the sweat start to collect against your brow, the small of your back. You reach up, grabs onto the marble counter. You shake your head violently, tries to stop the lingering tremors, the dark thoughts; push everything away and focus you on what's important. Focus on your mission.

You pull yourself up shakily. You eye the dress.

I'm in you think.

---

"You're going to regret this."

An unsavory snort sits waiting behind Donghyuk's nose. The corner of his mouth bends upwards instead. "To what do I owe this unwelcome advice?"

Jisung looks at Donghyuk's reflection. "I just think you should know where I stand."

Donghyuk finishes adjusting his collar. "And I just think you should know that I don't give a fuck."

Jisung's eyes flash. "This is personal."

"Your pride is not of my concern."

"I've worked hard to get where I am. I put my blood and sweat into getting to this point." Jisung's eyes search Donghyuk's in the mirror.

"Perhaps I should have wanted to see tears from you, made you beg and grovel at my feet." He slips a watch over his wrist. "Is that what you wanted?"

"I proved myself, my loyalty. I gained your trust. And her," Jisung shakes his head, glares at down at a stubborn wrinkle on the leg of Donghyuk's slacks, "you are just letting her walk right in."

"Every associate of mine has been hand selected by me personally," Donghyuk says, slipping on the jacket of his suit. "Their relations with me are my business, and my business alone. They are entitled to the same respect and place as any other associate. I'm not going to defend her, neither am I going to defend myself."