DEEP

8. ΛΑΘΟΣ

"You didn't say anything."

Donghyuk takes a sip of his whiskey, silent.

"Haechan."

"What do you want me to say, hyung?"

Mark shrugs. "You're not entitled to say anything to me, boss. It's just, Jisung filled me in on the past couple weeks—"

"And?"

"Why did you do it?"

Donghyuk takes another sip of his drink. "I'm sentimental."

Mark laughs dryly. "I believe you. It's why you still keep me around."

Donghyuk looks up from his drink. "Hyung, I need you to keep an eye on her for me. Settle her in."

Mark frowns. "I'm not Renjun. Hell, I haven't had his job in years. I'm not sure this is—"

"No. I need you to do it." Mark nods at the finality of Donghyuk's voice, the odd puzzled look back on his face.

"Stop looking at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like you're trying to get inside my head."

Mark doesn't hide the concern on his face. "Haechan, I don't know the situation. You're not talking to me about it either, and I'm not trying to pry. I just don't know what's going on with you. You didn't brief Renjun. You're going completely off books. This is dangerous. This could hurt everything you're working for." He watches as Donghyuk swirls the ice around in his glass. "All I'm asking is for you to clear up anything that may get in your way. You're in no position to mess up. Not now. "

The boss swallows, doesn't say anything. Mark eyes Donghyuk through strands of hair. "We both know you need to talk to him sooner or later."

Donghyuk just stares into his glass. Mark sighs, runs a hand through his hair tiredly. "It's late. I should go." He slides a flash drive over. "Here's the information I got in Jeju." He turns, starts towards the doors.

"I'll talk to him." Donghyuk says suddenly.

Mark looks back, meets the boss' eyes. The crease between his eyes relaxes. "Good. I hope you do."

"I'm glad you're back, hyung."

Mark's face softens when the man looks away. "It's good to be back, boss."

---

You sit on the hotel bed. It's large and cool and clean; everything your life isn't at this point. You close your eyes, thinks back to a few hours ago.

"(Y/F/N), huh?"

The short man had walked up to you, looked into your eyes. "Welcome to the team." He had held out a hand. "Na Jaemin. Nice to...properly meet you." He had smiled in between his Seoul drawl, wide and heart shaped. You couldn't meet his eyes, could only stare at the very top of his nose. You had taken his hand, shaken it. You think of the same hand, only weeks ago holding your face, moving up you body. You shudder.

"Lee Jeno."

The tall one, the dark one. The partner. Just a name, the rise of long inked fingers and the exhale of thick smoke. And then silence. His eyes, angled and sharp, seemed to speak for him. Consuming and cutting. Untrusting.

"Park Jisung."

Jisung. The name echoes. You feel it sit on your tongue, bitter and vile, the ugliest pucker. Poison. You remember that smug expression and steely voice, those burning eyes. You hear shots in your head, two of them from that fateful night. You feel the healing wounds on your back flare up at the thought. You bristle, remembers the feeling of fists, the fury.