Feathers and Carnations

Chapter Three

Two weeks and four days passed since Han Jisung fled from Nightfield. He found a new apartment an hour from his old one, he dyed his hair black and let it grow out a bit, he wore fake glasses and hoodies as often as he could. He was a ghost wandering the streets stealing and hiding.

Jisung thought he left this life for good when Chan found him five years ago trying to steal from his car. His memory before that awful winter was muddled and confused, so all he cared to remember was meeting his leader. Now the memory tasted sour and foreign. He had a good amount of money saved from his time in Nightfield, but it never hurt to add to his reserve.

After another day of gathering supplies and stealing here and there, Jisung slowly climbed his way up the creaking stairs to his apartment on the fourth floor. The elevator was down for the second time yesterday, and he didn't dare trust it today. Getting stuck in a falling elevator would really add to his month.

His neighbor down the hall was just leaving for her night shift at the hospital, and she gave him a polite nod as they passed one another at the top of the stairs. She was kind enough to share some of her coffee when he moved in, so he swore to never steal from her. He made sure her door was locked before going into his apartment.

The moment he was inside, Jisung threw his black glasses onto the counter and rubbed the area above his ears. The glasses were too tight and it was giving him a headache. He riffled through the kitchen and started making himself some tea. It was the only thing that could calm him down anymore.

He emptied his pockets and counted out his earnings of the day. 99,000 won. Not bad. He sipped at his tea, tucked the money into the metal jar at the back of the fridge. Took another sip. And swayed.

Jisung shook his head and braced his hand on the wall, stopping mid stride a few steps from his bedroom door. A gray haze was snaking into his vision as his mind dimmed. What in the world? His landed on his drink. The color wasn't right.

He stumbled into his room, clumsily slamming the mug onto his dresser. His limbs were getting light, his head getting heavy. Shit.

"It works pretty fast, doesn't it?"

The voice startled him, but his body was too numb to react to it. It was a voice he never wanted to hear again. The figure lounging on his bed was one that made his heart stutter and freeze.

"Minho." Jisung's voice was distant to his own ears. He fell to his knees, hands barely catching himself on the gray carpet. He tried taking in deep breaths. "What did you- how did you find me?"

Minho slowly got up and crouched in front of him. "We'll get to the questions when you're no longer drugged up, how does that sound?"

Jisung wanted to scream and curse the man in front of him, but he couldn't even keep his eyes open. So much for being safe. The carpet rushed toward him.

⧫⧫⧫

Soft flickering light filtered through his closed eyes and warmed his skin. The haze of sleepiness receded from his mind as his other senses came into focus. His body floated on something heavenly soft, and the gentle crackle of a fire reached his ears. Did I die? Is this how someone enters heaven?

A dull ache behind Jisung's eyes destroyed his theory as he became fully conscious, and he quickly sat up, expecting ropes or cuffs to bind his arms down. But he was laying on a rather lavish bed with a fancy fireplace a few feet away, his limbs free. Was I taken by Lee Minho, or was I taken by a grandmother?

The room around him was fairly plain, but the ceiling was high and the windows were bordered by thick, navy blue drapes that matched the bedding. It was dark outside, which led Jisung to wonder how long he was out. Was it a few hours? A few days? Either way, he wasn't about to stick around.