change the heavy world
look how free we are

Three hours later, I was in the Dragon's Tail. Baekhyun had excused himself, saying something about how he had important business to attend to, leaving me sitting alone at one of the tables.

I felt completely cut off from the rest of the racers. In the beginning, thy had been sort of welcoming, but after the sort-of meeting they had shown their hostility towards me openly. My chest felt hollow yet heavy, but I couldn't even cry. It was as if I had no tears left anymore.

After having revealed my past to someone, I had expected to feel like some of the burden had lightened, but it only felt like the opposite. I was panicking internally, wondering how the other racers would react to this. Maybe Baekhyun would make it sound less horrific than it actually was, knowing him and his way with words, and Taeyong was definitely not going to say anything. It was obvious that he wasn't as friendly with the rest as the others.

The bar was empty, due to the day still being relatively young. The sun was still high in the sky, casting dark stripes and shadows across the driveway of the building. My throat felt closed up, rendering me unable to speak.

At that moment, I felt so isolated that I almost flinched when soft footfalls sounded in the otherwise empty bar. It was Vernon, looking more preoccupied than usual as he walked in.

When he saw me, his face first brightened, then darkened when his gaze fell on my shoulder. Even though I now had a leather jacket on, the area around my upper bicep and neck seemed bumpy and raised, giving the impression that I was injured.

Which, granted, I was.

"He told me you'd been shot, but I didn't think it would be that bad," he muttered as he sat down next to me, frowning as he studied the wound.

"What did you think it would look like?" I joked. "A band-aid sized scratch?"

He rolled his eyes, but there was a faint smile on his lips. "Take off your jacket," he ordered, then, hesitating, "please."

I shrugged it off obediently, making sure not to put too much strain on my left shoulder. Vernon's frown deepened as he observed it, though he didn't make any move to touch it as it had been with the others.

"That's some bad piece of luck," he commented, eyebrows raised. "You sure it wasn't because you got into a fistfight?"

His statements weren't even that funny, but the effort he made to make the whole thing seem like a joke brought a smile to my face. It was nice to actually have someone who cared, or even pretended to care, about me not having a mental breakdown.

"Yeah, I'm sure, Chwe." I sighed dramatically. It was almost as if I was a different person around him, with none of that sullenness making it into my words. Well, mostly. "But the bullet somehow managed to miss the bone, so it shouldn't be too much of an annoyance."

"Good," he said softly, staring at me for a moment before looking away, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. "Should take about two weeks to heal, ten if you're lucky. So remember to eat your veggies."

I scrunched up my nose. "Yes, nurse Chwe."

He smiled again, cat-like but loyal. It seemed like an odd way to describe it, but there was also no other way to do so. Vernon was the only one who hadn't let me down in any way, whether it was actions or words. As I thought about the last line, I pushed down the thoughts regarding a certain redheaded and turned my attention back to him.

At least Vernon always made it up to me.

"Hey, look here," he said, smothering the humor on his face. "It's okay to be scared. The people around me, I admit, aren't the most sympathetic bunch, but don't make yourself feel inferior because of them."

"Too deep," I murmured, but his words had forced me to remember the predicament I was in. I felt my walls slowly creep up again, but his hand ghosted over mine, sending a current through my skin.

"I'm just saying." He shrugged, the sunlight from the windows making his eyes look like pools of liquid gold. "And that reminds me."

"Of what?"

He grinned at me, the way his eyes curved into crescents looking more feline than it should be. "We never got to go on that date."

──────

"This is your idea of a date?" I asked, raising an eyebrow, as I lightly touched the food on my plate with a fork.

"What, too healthy?" Vernon turned from the counter, grinning at me. "Are you telling me you're one of those college students who are too focused on partying to get proper meals?"

"That was insensitive," I said, but I didn't really mean it. "This is an interesting choice for a hangout."

He shrugged, pulling out another dish from the oven and setting it down in front of me before pulling out a chair in front of me. Still smiling, he turned the chair around, sitting down on it so that his chest faced the seat's back, letting his chin rest on his arms, folded over the top of the back. "Eat."

Instead of taking me to one of those stereotypical dates that would've arguably still be enjoyable, Vernon had decided to take me to grocery shopping, and then his house—all the while letting me drive. I had accepted it without too many questions at first, but it had ended up with more than just a normal level of confusion when he'd started to cook.

"How do I know you haven't poisoned it?" I narrowed my eyes at him teasingly. "How can I trust you, a recruiter for illegal drag races?"

He reached over and took a bite. "The same reason I trust you, a street racers and an ex-member of a gang."

I didn't question him, instead focusing on finishing the wholesome meal in front of me. Despite all of his more than questionable antics, there was no denying that Vernon Chwe was an incredible cook—something I actually desperately needed. It was funny, almost, that someone so involved in underground racing had such amazing domestic qualities as well.

"Seriously, though, why did you bring me here?" I asked, after I was done with most of the food. "I agree that this is some god-level cooking, but you could've still done something more...date-like."

The words sounded stranger when I actually spoke them aloud than when that had been inside me head. I sounded almost whiny, but then, it wasn't the worst thing to be in a situation like mine.

"Well, yeah, but look at you." He jerked his chin in the direction of my wounded shoulder. "You haven't eaten properly in days, and to heal and be strong enough to face them, you need to have your protein. Plus, you said it yourself—this is some god-level cooking."

"At least you don't downplay your abilities," I muttered, smiling faintly. "I guess you're right."

"Of course I'm right," he said happily. "You're done?"

"Yeah." In my haste to savour the amazingly delicious food, I hadn't paid much attention to eating slowly and properly. Staring down at the empty plates guiltily for a moment, I let out a breath. I hadn't realized how much I'd needed this.

"Wash up, you look greasy," he said.

I gave him a look. "Not the best thing to tell your date."

"Hey, I'm just trying to help." He laughed lightly. "And these aren't the most normal circumstances—you really need to clean up and redress your wounds, it's been two days at least. You can borrow my clothes."

When I finally got our of the shower, he was standing next to the window, staring outside with a vacant gaze. I toweled off my hair, standing in my position for a few moments, the floor cold underneath my bare feet.

Slowly, I found myself wondering what my life would have been like if it was normal. With him. What it would be like to live together, in this apartment, and wake up every morning to his smile.

I caught myself before getting too carried away, cutting down the flow of my thoughts. I couldn't fantasize about anything, not right now, when a war was brewing.

Silently, I walked over to his side, looking outside at the cityscape under us. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, I felt at peace, like there was nothing chasing me, like I was safe.

The past events seemed to have washed off my skin under the shower, leaving me pure, in a way. As I stood there, thinking-no, almost studying my memories of the last few days, I felt a sudden upheaval of emotions. Leaning my head on his shoulder, I closed my eyes, still seeing the dying light of the sun beneath my eyelids.

"How long will this last?" The words had been meant to sound calm, but came out in a tiny voice like that of a scared girl, not a seasoned woman, hardened by years of pain. "Vernon?"

He didn't reply for a moment, but after a few minutes, his arm came up to wrap around my shoulders, careful not to touch my wound. "I don't know," he replied honestly, and for some reason, that reassured me more than any facts he could have given me. No one knew, and I wasn't alone. At least for now.

Somehow, I found myself comparing him and Taeyong in my mind. When the redhead was fiery and unpredictable, Vernon was steady, always there for me to lean on. Where Taeyong was secretive with his intentions and irregular in his signals, Vernon was warm, like the sun, open and safe, like home.

Ah. Nothing good was going to come out of this. The last time I loved, it hadn't ended so well.

I let myself lean into him further, the stability of him. His stature was strong and sturdy enough to support both of us, his chest hard, his heartbeat steady against my palm. Pressing my face into his chest, I inhaled his scent, not even caring how dependant I was on him at that moment. "Thank you. For the food."

"You don't have to thank me." Even if I couldn't see him, I could hear the smile in his voice, see the vibrance of it in my mind. "It's a date, after all."

Straightening, I leaned over to kiss his cheek, but he turned at the last moment so my lips brushed his. The sensation made me feel warm and whole inside, making my muscles relax and unknot as I deepened the kiss, pressing into him as I cupped his face with my hands.

I could feel his smile through the kiss, the tenderness with which his hand cradled my jaw. An infinity later, I let go, leaning my forehead against his, the slightest of smiles on my face.

"Hey," I whispered, his body heat still radiating to mine.

"Hey," he whispered back, the turned up corners of his lips hinting at a smile. "It'll be okay."

I closed my eyes, holding on to him like a lifeline. Despite all that had happened, I couldn't help but believe him and the sincerity of his words. It'll be okay. It'll be okay. It'll be okay.

"Can I stay here?" I asked him, my tone soft. "I can't bear going back to the safe house again."

"Sure." His hands were still warm on my face, like a fire on a winter morning. I had a feeling that at the moment, he would have agreed to whatever I said, but somehow, I didn't want anything more.

Maybe I should've moved, but I couldn't bring myself to. I craved him, to lean on him, to keep him. But there was no way...

"It'll be okay," I whispered slowly to myself, like a mantra. "It'll be okay."

It'll be okay.

──────

istg if i see ONE more slut-shaming comment i will block you

she's not exclusively dating taeyong, nor is she leading him on because she never told him he's the 'only one'. in fact, taeyong has mentioned multiple times that he knows. the rules are different here. she can kiss whoever she wants, it doesn't depend on what a rude commenter thinks.

yoooo y'all really wildin with your theories in the last chapter lmao

but hEy, we finally got 1/3rd of the secrets of the story! i'm so freaking hyped to reveal the rest to you buuuuuut

this book is going to be around 50 chapters long, so we still have a significant way to go-but my updates will be much more regular then before so we should be done by may...and then, we have some extra stuff for this story wink wink

hold on to your wigs, if you still have some left.

love,
Manx.