Nadir ◈ Seungjin

26 ◈ Sonority

Not really a forewarning but a note anyway:

A lot of the language the characters use, "mental case", "mental issues", etc, it's not an accurate nor realistic representation of people who do have mental illnesses. It's not a categorization nor a reflection of what people truly go through or deal with. It's supposed to be strong/offensive verbiage, but again, not an accurate reflection. Hyunjin is afflicted with a fictional illness for the purpose of the universe and Jisung is, Jisung. I won't put a label on him because I don't want it to be like "Ah yeah, this is how people with this condition act", because that's not cool. Just wanted that to be very clear as we move forward.

Anyway, on with the drama! (^^♪

The clock in the corner ticked.

Second by second.

Matching the tapping of Minho's heel against the linoleum floor in the office space.

His arms folded over.

Nostrils flaring, jaw clenching up and biting down on his teeth.

Seungmin wordlessly watched his obviously furious mannerisms from across the way, his hands stilled on the laptop's keyboard as he typed at an unrelated case report. Some suspected murder of a young woman from a delirious vampire, nothing too extraordinary or out of place, but not a case he himself had overseen or been permitted to look into aside from touching up the report of and occasionally glancing at along with the Mimic case files he had been neglecting to type out. Continuing to neglect his detective duties, Seungmin proceeded to watch Minho as he mimicked the oppressive hand of thunder rolling over a mountaintop in the distance. Finding the unusual fury from him far more pressing than finishing up the last few sentences of the paperwork.

His heel continuing to tap.

Breaths wrathful as they shoved in and out of him.

Teeth gritting together.

Until Minho blurted, "Jisung makes me want to commit a murder."

"What happened?" Seungmin dared to wonder, finally removing his hands off his keyboard to lace over his desk. Leaning into their weight. Ignoring the chill that ran down his spine at the ache of his button-ups collar rubbing against the fresh wound he hid.

"Well, let's see, after he rinsed his mouth out so I couldn't get a blood sample from him after I EXPLICITLY TOLD HIM NOT TO DO EXACTLY THAT? After he kept stopping me from shutting down for the night and coming to check on you? After all his toxic mental case bullshit? He said I looked like an onion! An onion! AN! ONION!" Minho raged, his heel tapping faster against the linoleum as he spoke with the vehement of a thousand burning Suns. With the anger of a parent who lost their child to an unfair cause, the wrath of a man who lost his love beneath the ground, the violence of a man who had his hand bitten too many times by a friend. He scowled toward Seungmin, angling closer to him as he roared, "And then he said I have the intelligence of a three year old and that I was dumb for not knowing what a hippo tennis was!"

Hippo tennis?

Seungmin furrowed his eyebrows together.

What the hell is that?

Cautiously, he repeated, "Hippo tennis?"

"The thing on the triangles," The vampire answered, teeth gritting down as he unlaced his hands and gestured out a shape in the air. Mimicking what he was referring to as he tried to explain, "The long side, right?"