Her abdomen hurt like a bitch, even after being cleaned up. She was now dressed in a casual pair of grey sweatpants and an oversized, light pink crewneck that Jaemin managed to find in her drawers (she prayed that he only went into the one with her shirts, and no where else when she asked him to fetch new clothes). Hair thrown into a messy bun to keep stray strands away from her facial wounds and getting stuck in the ointment. Now, she lay on her bed with a warm rag over her forehead and a steaming ginger tea that Jaemin had just handed to her.

"I'm not gonna die, you know," she mocked, taking a slow sip from the mug. The boy had insisted on sneaking into the cafeteria to retrieve the tea, saying it'd help with her body aches. "Why do you care so much, anyway?" She finds herself questioning again with weary eyes, watching as the other slowly moved onto other parts of her room.

Jaemin didn't bother to glance back at her, instead his interest seems to lie on her cluttered desk. He picked up one of the fictional books she had been trying to read, the Jamaica End, and inspects it, flipping through the pages before answering. "Well, we're partners now aren't we? Can't have my partner being in foul shape."

Yoonah pauses, the boiling tea warming her hands through the ceramic mug. She still wasn't sure what to make of this new partnership. It happened so suddenly, but it's all she has now.

You'll want his protection...

She would deal with the rest when the time comes. For now, she's got a banging headache and to many body aches to count to care about anything else.

Sitting up slightly, leaning against her pillows her eyes follow Jaemin around her room. She knows he's snooping, but who wouldn't? She would if she were in his position, plus she doesn't have much to hide.

"So, where'd you learn to patch up like that?" She asks.

Jaemin pauses and glances up in confusion, but it settles into slight embarrassment once he realizes that Yoonah is referring to her wounds. His hands come to cover the blush that settles across his neck. "Renjun is technically our first aid guy, but I've picked up some things."

"Must come in handy." Yoonah muses.

"In a school like this, it's a necessity."

They both sit in silence. Jaemin flittering between various places in her room, whatever peaks his interest while Yoonah watches. Both are getting used to their newfound truce, and Yoonah finds her mind racing with thoughts.

The past few weeks have been a compilation of Yoonah finally coming to terms with what this school is, and what she is expected to do. But nothing could have prepared her for what just happened. Being attacked, and getting closed in like a mouse set for a trap. She can still feel the cool blade piercing her side, the feeling of fear that coursed through her body as she prayed no one had noticed it. The eyes that crawled over her like pests - god, she was so fucking tired of the stares.

And now, here she is with Jaemin in her room. What is she to make with that?

As intriguing as he is, Jaemin is an incredibly difficult person to understand. She wondered what the truth about him is, but what she knew for sure is that she wanted to hear that small giggle and see that sweet smile on his lips again.

Even through her pain, she saw right through his facade. Through a moment of panic, he surrendered himself to her. Allowing her to see that pained expression honing a million emotions that Yoonah couldn't even begin to think about dissecting.

She wanted to dig deeper and deeper, but knew Jaemin would only reel back if she pushed too far.

Plus, they were finally getting somewhere. After weeks of observing each other and timid interactions, they were finally here. Metaphorically and literally, Jaemin was standing in her room which, by itself, was a lot to take in.

Him being there felt weird. His tall figure, hips leaning against the edge of the desk as he lazily flipped through whatever he could find. Brows furrowed, a determined gaze settling over his features. It was so different from what she's used to seeing from him—but then again, Jaemin's favorite past time seems to be showing her new sides of him, small or big.

She sits up a bit further, catching the eyes of Jaemin who frets.

"Don't move too much, you might make the cut bleed again."

Yoonah rolls her eyes. "Don't treat me like glass. I'll be fine." She takes another sip of the tea before tapping her nails against the mug and looking back up into those warm eyes. "So...how does this work?"

Jaemin raises a brow. "You're gonna have to be a little more specific."

"Our partnership," she hesitates. "What does it even mean?"

The other makes his way towards her almost timidly, once again a side she never expected to see. He approaches her bedside with his bottom lip tugged between his lip, a contemplating look swirling in those hazel eyes. He sits at the edge of her rose ruffled sheets after receiving a nod of confirmation. Fingers twirl around a loose thread on the sheets.

Jaemin, she notices, has more nervous tics than he realizes.

At his silence, Yoonah continues. An unsure laugh bubbles at her throat. "Come on," she shrugs. "I mean, what, does this mean we're each other's ride or dies now? Till death do us part type shit?"

The ash haired glances up in slightly surprise, blinking owlishly. "I've never heard you curse before."

"You'd know a lot more about me if you cared to notice."

His hand comes up to cover his arm protectively. "You don't know me either."

"You're right," she learns forward, earnestly. "But I want to. Will you let me?"

Jaemin side-eyed her, as if he was afraid of completely looking into her eyes. Something flickers behind his irises, and he straightens himself up before an easy-going smile graces his cracked lips. Still, he avoids fully turning around. "Are you gonna make stealing my lines into a habit?

She couldn't fight the giggle that escaped her chest. Her hand reaches out to punch his shoulder gently, yet he still flinches violently and feigns a pained expression.

"How can you be the most intimidating guy in school?" She laughs breathlessly.

His eyes hardened. "I'm not."

Yoonah paused, taken aback by the sudden change in his demeanor. She quickly retracted before tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "I know, but you're still second in rank."

Finally, he looks at her. "That's the thing, Yoonah. This—this partnership that we have going on; it's purely to help you. I cannot leave Jeno's side, but I can help train you."

"Why can't you leave him?" Yoonah finds herself asking before she can stop.

"I can. I choose not to."

For some reason, that answer doesn't satisfy the thoughts rummaging her mind. There were still so many questions crawling through her mind like a dwindling spider, filling it's web with unanswered thoughts. Her mouth opens to protest, but she finds it better to stay quiet after receiving a warning glare. Her relationship with Jaemin was already delicate enough, and she had enough sense to know that she was treading on a thin line, just waiting to snap.

A beat of silence passes. "So," she drawls out the sound, eyes darting to the man in her bed (that was something she never imagined to see--especially a man like him). Words chosen carefully, not wanting to make the wrong move. They were playing a game of chess and Yoonah already felt two moves behind. "Training me to become a cold hearted killer," a bitter laugh escapes her chest before she can stop it. "When do we start?"

"So eager," Jaemin muses, but she can hear the grimness in his tone. "We start tonight. You've already wasted enough time as it is."

Yoonah splutters. "Me? I-I didn't even know about the intent of this school until like a week ago! How can you say that?" Her face is flushed red, and she's quickly reminded how socially unaware and incredibly infuriating said man can be, no matter how pretty he looks on her bed.

At least it's a bonus. A tiny voice muses, which she quickly shoves into the back of her head.

Fox-like eyes meet hers, calculating. He has a renowned calm glaze in his eyes, like he's finally caught up and pieced back together that carefully crafted mask of his. Yoonah knows she's lost all chances of getting to know the real Na Jaemin.

"And whose fault is that?" He asks sharply.

"How could I have known?"

"The truth is that that was no one else's mistake other than your own. A miscalculation, at best. You say you're here because of your father, but you didn't bother to look into the school he so desperately wanted you to attend?"

"Don't talk about my father." She snaps, crossing her arms and turning her body. At the movement, her wounds stung and ached, and a hiss tumbled out of her mouth.

Jaemin's hands were on her in an instant. Softly grasping her arms; his touch is so warm. A soothing kindling to the fire inside. The first sip of a warm coffee on a cold day. The touch of dew melting on your fingertips, engrained onto the pad of your thumb. The sun kissing your skin, warming every fiber of your soul; it's seeds of sincerity and candor intent rooted under your skin.

A sigh against tingling skin. Their eyes meet, his own perfectly carved face cracked like an eroded Greek marble sculpture--Eros, maybe. Expression prickling with exposed resolve.

Your mask is crumbling day by day. Soon, you will no longer be in control, sly fox. Who then will take the reigns?

Yoonah can't speak as her body falls numb to Jaemin's touch. Her bones ache as he lifts her back into the molded spot in her bed. He pulls the covers over her, covering her exposed collarbone and chest. The simple act causes a flower to bloom in her chest, and is reminded of when she hadn't hesitated to undress in front of the man just an hour earlier.

If it were anybody else, first of all, they would have never made it past her room let alone in between her legs against a bathroom counter. She certainly would have never undressed in front of said stranger with zero hesitation, either. But even before Jaemin had proven so much, she already knew within her heart that he would do nothing.

She knew it the day she saw him.

Perhaps they weren't at that level of trust yet, but it was something inevitable. No force or being could alter their entwined fate.

His hand still rested over her arm that was covered by the soft velvet. He stared, resolve unwavering. "I'm sorry," he chewed the inside of his cheek. "That wasn't my place."

Cheeks warmed. "I'm sorry, too."

Dark brows furrowed together. "For what?"

A cunning smile embarked her pink lips. "For spitting on you. Although I have no regrets, I guess I have to acknowledge that your idea wasn't as repulsive as initially thought."

An expression mirrors her. "How kind of you to remember."

"I thought so." Saliva travelled down her throat in a nervous action. "So, would you still--"

"Would I, Na Jaemin, second in rank with the highest GPA in the school, consider gracing you, a mere peasant below my feet--"

"You're taking it a little far, don't you think?"

"Let me finish."

"Knock yourself out."

He fakes a cough, straightening his shoulders. A grin stretches onto his face, and Yoonah thinks that this may be the most relaxed she's ever seen him. "Yeah, sure. I'll spread the rumors."

"That you're my boyfriend?"

"It won't take much convincing. The entire school body will cling to any shred you give them if they're board enough."

"Shouldn't they be busy fighting for their lives?"

A shrug. "Every day, same thing. It gets a little boring after a while."

"Yeah, sure. Because the adrenaline flowing through your body as the blood of your first kill hits your cheek is a normal occurrence. Nothing special."

His smile somehow manages to widen. "See? You're getting it now, little dove."

A surprised laugh ruptures from her chest. "Don't get too excited with the pet names. I'm only fake dating you for your rank, you know."

"Oh, of course." He doesn't sound convinced.

"I'm serious!"

"I never doubted you." A smug smirk.

Yoonah groans, and does her very best to shove the boy out of her bed. "You're infuriating. Get out!"

Luckily Jaemin doesn't put up much of a fight. He's at the door, leaning against the frame with his hand on the knob. A group of girls pass behind him with bewildered looks, whispering frantically into each other's ears. Yoonah's heart pounds at the thought of how easily they fall into their game. A pawn falling to it's destined rulers.

"Tonight, at nine."

Then he shuts the door.

"Yeah, because that doesn't sound mildly flirtatious." She mutters, unable to hide the growing blush on her cheeks.

i'm back! conveniently on a
tuesday, even if i've missed
two weeks of updates ('･_･')

i failed horribly at nano, so
i'm back to cause tears and
havoc thru this fic >:)

hope you enjoyed! leave a vote
and comment!