Super

09. sleep paralysis demon

Baekhyun had stopped listening.

Surprisingly, this time it was not because of Taemin (who had been surprisingly quiet ever since they had entered—knowing the man's tendencies, Baekhyun was beginning to get worried) but the distraction that presented itself before him was one of the strongest senses. It was not usually that he got sidetracked while listening to live reports about cryogenically frozen Supers.

He had stepped into the bedroom, and his eyes had only just begun to adjust themselves to the dim light when he spotted the figure huddled on one side of the bed, seemingly to hide itself from him. Baekhyun frowned as he stepped deeper into the room, the carpeted floor covering the sounds of his entry.

There was no way the person—or whatever the figure was supposed to be—had seen him. This floor of the building had been suspiciously quiet ever since he showed up, but he doubted it was because of him. A few minutes ago, he wouldn't have thought it possible that the owner had known they were coming. But now, with Supers in the basement and hiding figures in hotel rooms, he had grown more and more cautious.

He stepped around the edge of the bed and came face-to-face with the person. Well, it did seem like a person. A girl, to be exact. She was sitting in the light of the bedside lamp with her back against the wall, bare arms hugging her knees to her chest. She wasn't looking up, but did so as soon as he stepped in front of her, blocking the light.

The first thing Baekhyun noticed was the long scar on her face. It was thin and white, pretty old from the looks of it, and ran from under her left eye down to her jaw, as if someone had drawn the path of a teardrop on her face. His wariness grew.

They stared at each other.

"Who are you?" she asked, with slow syllables that grew louder as she spoke. She didn't seem afraid of him, but the defensive way she held herself told him she really had been hiding from someone.

Baekhyun touched his knuckles to his lips, and froze. Damn it, he thought desperately. Despite his many precautions, he had forgotten to wear his mask.

"No one," he said stupidly, trying to hide the lower half of his face with his hands. "Nobody. Your sleep paralysis demon."

"But I'm not sleeping."

Baekhyun stepped back slowly, trying not to let his unease show. He couldn't believe he had been this stupid, especially when he was supposed to be a role model for the other members of his team. "You are," he said, hoping his muffled voice was clear enough to be understood through the cage of his fingers. "It's a lucid dream."

She narrowed her eyes at him, defensiveness turning into offence. Slowly, she pinched the skin of her upper arm, and winced. "Ouch," she muttered, and Baekhyun turned. "See? I'm not dreaming?"

He tip-toed across the carpeted floor as fast as he could, seeing her get to her feet in his peripheral vision.

"Wait!" she cried out. "I know you! You're that guy!"

Against his better instincts, he paused, turning to look at her indignantly. There had been a note of emotion in her voice that resembled desperation, and even though his identity was at stake, Baekhyun was supposed to help people. Even if it was just helping someone cross the street.

"What guy?" he asked.

"That guy in the newspaper. With that hair." She gestured to her own hair, which fell over her shoulders in ribbons of brown. Or was it black? Baekhyun couldn't tell in the sparse lighting. "The color of Blue Bolt Gatorade."

He stared at her. "My hair is orange."

"I thought you might have...you know...dyed it."

Under the hand that covered his mouth, his lips pursed. Baekhyun had realized by now that she was talking about Taeyong, because no one else he knew could fit the Gatorade description. Besides, he knew that in the pictures from the newspaper, their faces would have been hidden. She could have easily mistaken him for Taeyong based on their similar suits.