DEEP

11. ΣΕ ΕΜΑΣ

Jisung walks into the room without knocking, strides past the white leather couches, his reflection a blur in the glass lights. He stands in front of the desk, hands behind his back, and waits for the older man to acknowledge him. The boss sits relaxed in his chair, jacket slung over the back of the seat, sleeves rolled up and the top buttons of his shirt popped open in the musty, smoky room.

Jisung eyes the lone cigarette sitting on the ashtray. He's never really seen the boss smoke. He's seen the boss ask Mark to exchange smoke into his mouth once, lips almost brushing. It's called shotgunning baby boy Jaemin had said. But he's never seen the boss physically hold those Cuban cigars always sitting on the coffee table, never seen his lips close around the shaft, seen him take a moment to close his eyes, indulge.

The cigarette continues to sit stamped into the ashtray on the corner of the desk, and Jisung moves his gaze up to the man's face; not his eyes but the side of his face, never directly his eyes unless spoken to. The boss doesn't look up from the papers he's looking at. "Can I help you?"

"It's about the Chang collection."

The boss continues to stare down at the papers. "And?"

"I refuse to work with her."

The boss huffs out a laugh, genuinely amused, and meets Jisung's gaze. "You refuse?" He gets up, now interested, picks up his glass. He comes around, one hand in his pocket, settles on the edge of his desk and takes a sip. "Come on now, Park. Don't be a brat."

Jisung clenches his jaw at the condescending tone. He spreads his shoulders back, spine straight, continues to stare forward at the dark mahogany of the wall. "I'm capable of getting the job done myself."

The boss sighs, hand brushing hair out of his brow. "I'm sure you're capable of a great deal." He blinks, looks down at his pointed shoes. His voice drops low, almost a murmur. "I need her to do this. If I want to bring her closer, I need to know she's capable, trustworthy. It's all a test."

The boss quiets, continues to stare at the floor in thought, glass in hand. Jisung eyes move away from the wall to stare at the boss. He breathes in at this sudden slip, this second of unconscious vulnerability. Jisung swallows at the revelation, feels pathetic. He feels used. Resentment licks up from his chest, builds up behind his throat. The silence and the quiet seething, for a second it gives the younger confidence, a boldness, and the words come out before he can stop them.

"What, is she just another Mark hyung for you? Get a good fuck in and toss her away forever? Are you really throwing everything aside, everything we've been working on for some stupid old love?" Jisung breathes in through his mouth, chest rising and falling passionately.

Something passes across the boss' face, a visible shadow falling over his eyes, and before Jisung can react it's too late. The sound of the slap is sharp, skin on skin; the feeling cold from the boss' rings, hot from the blood rising to his face. Jisung's head snaps to the side from the impact. He gapes at the dark wall, eyes wide in shock.

"Don't you ever talk to me about Mark that way."

Slowly, Jisung turns his head straight, hand rising and fingers brushing his stinging left cheek. His face starts to redden, the skin where the boss's rings imprinted starting to purple harshly. He tastes something metallic, feels a warmth start to gather at the corner of his mouth.

The boss' brows relax, emotion leaving his features, his eyes. He sets his glass down, moves away from the desk and comes close so they stand inches apart. He places his hand over the side of Jisung's bruising face, holds it, caresses it almost. His thumb smooth across the lines on Jisung's cheek, moves down and across his mouth. He touches the corner of Jisung's lip where it has split, where the blood has started to collect, and he presses down. Jisung keeps himself from reacting, from wincing at the pressure, the pain; the hungry, relishing look in the boss's eyes. Blood stains the boss' thumb, beads down the finger, and he swipes the warm red across Jisung's bottom lip.