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It's not as fun anymore. Sam and Ila don't fascinate you the way they once did. Still, that's no excuse to slack off, so you keep working, doing everything you're asked, and more. Your thoughts are elsewhere, though, and you don't even try to stop them.

How's he doing? It's only been a few days, but maybe he wonders where you went? Does he realize that you didn't stop seeing him by your own choice?

You haven't even managed to figure out the reason he's there in the first place. Asking is, of course, out of the question, unless you want to play with fire and be fired for bringing him up again, and to not even be allowed inside the building just isn't an option for you. At least like this, you're still able to feel somewhat close to him, and that soothes you even if there's no way for you to know what goes on behind that door.

Now and then, you watch people walk through it, but you have no idea how many are working there, seeing as you have too much to do to constantly keep an eye on it. For some reason, the scientists—who work for the lab but are seldom on site, except for now—always appear deep in thought as they exit the room, making sure the door locks properly behind them. But those familiar white coats are constantly coming and going at the lab, that isn't anything new—you just wonder what they're keeping in their bags and in their minds, and why Namjoon seems to spend more time inside the room than outside it.

And sure, your colleagues act like nothing ever happened—when they're with you, that is. You're met with the same kind eyes and words as always, but if you soften your step, you notice that you increase your chances of walking around a corner to catch them talking frustratedly to each other. It appears as if they're arguing about something.

Once, you even discover the four of them huddled in Hoseok's lab, definitely arguing. An almost-closed door is the only barrier between you and them as you lean closer and decide to listen in.

"What do you suppose we do then, huh? It's too smart; it knows someone's in the room the second any of us enters!" Namjoon's voice is heard. He's obviously frustrated and annoyed, sounding like he's at his wit's end. You see it clearly in your head, the way he's surely gesturing with his arms, maybe putting a finger to the middle of his glasses in between outbursts. They're talking about the siren; they have to be.

"Do we... start draining the water?" Jimin suggests hesitantly.

You stare at the white door in confusion. Draining the water? While the siren's still in there? He'll die then, won't he? The others' thoughts seem to go down the same path if the silence is anything to go by.

"Not all of it, of course," Jimin rushes to elaborate. "There's just so much water, and if we empty... say three-fourths of it... He'll be much easier to handle if he can't swim away."

"That could be a good idea," Hoseok speaks slowly, "but, then what? We empty out the water, and one of us goes in there and tries to sedate him? He could easily kill someone."

"Yeah, if only we could lace the water to make him docile, to begin with," Taehyung thinks out loud, his low voice easily distinguishable.

"Yeah, unfortunately, we wouldn't know the correct doses, not to speak of the sheer volume of the sedative needed... We really need to get a tranquilizer gun."

Obviously, your colleagues want to do something to the siren, but it appears he won't let them get anywhere close. What could they be planning? You wonder how they even brought him there in the first place if he's so vicious and difficult to handle.

How do you transport a merman? You've never seen his tail; it could be large enough to require the same sort of tank that's used to transport smaller whales. Thinking of it, you've only assumed that the merman is just that; a merman. Or siren. Yeah, 'siren' sounds better. Calling him a 'merman' just paints you a mental image of him with a fork in his dark hair.

The point is that nothing's ever confirmed your suspicion, but you almost feel like you don't actually need that confirmation; you know he's a siren. You don't know how; you just do.

"Fuck, we need to figure something out before he dies. He probably won't survive much longer," Namjoon curses, and his brutal statement makes you lose your grip on your phone, causing it to slip from your hand and fall to the ground with a thud.

The siren is ill?

Their voices stop altogether, and you rack your brain for something that doesn't give your eavesdropping away. You improvise, picking up the phone as you start to hum a song, increasing the volume as if you just got there, and knock on the door before opening it like you always do.

"Hoseok, I have a question about otte—oh hi, I didn't realize you had a group meeting?" You smile innocently. Four pairs of eyes stare back at you before they disperse with mumbled excuses. As if that isn't suspect. Only Hoseok remains, given it's his lab.

Your absolute favorite thing about Hoseok is how incredibly sweet he is. From the very start, he took you under his wing, letting you seek refuge in his lab when you felt the slightest bit nervous about everything new. The habit remained, so when you have a few minutes to spare, you often find yourself in lab room number seven, perched on a counter with your legs swinging underneath you. And, of course, Hoseok answers all your questions with a genuine smile, even if they're insanely dumb.

You miss that, miss him. Ever since Namjoon caught you at the tank, hand in the metaphorical cookie jar and with crumbs sticking to your shirt, you've kept to yourself, feeling embarrassed. The new intern, already snooping around and putting her nose where it doesn't belong.

As everyone but you and Hoseok leaves, you gaze around the white, sterile room. It isn't anything you haven't seen before, but it eases your nerves for the incoming conversation. In the meantime, he's started silently gathering some papers from his desk in the corner, making sure they're in a neat pile.

"What were you talking about?" you ask curiously to maintain the image of you as clueless and not reveal that you know more than you should just yet.

"Oh, uh, Namjoon wanted some reports done. Boring things really," he scratches his head, reading something, or maybe pretending to read something, on a sheet.

You sigh. Would Hoseok get mad if you simply asked him about the siren? He'd never tell Namjoon, right? Worst case scenario, he'll ask you not to bring it up again. And if you're wrong, then maybe it was still worth it. You have more to gain than you have to lose

"Hoseok, I know about the mer... man, the siren, I mean," you lock your gaze on the ceiling as you await his reply. But when nothing comes, you turn your head to look at him. He's frozen, fingers in the act of turning a page, and he wears a stunned expression. "Something's wrong with him, right? I heard you talking before, and I want you to know that I just wanna help."

As you predicted, he doesn't get mad. He doesn't yell or threaten to run after Namjoon to have you thrown out, head first. No, he stares at you for a few drawn-out seconds before he sits down in his swivel chair and leans back, hands coming up to cover his face for a brief moment. Then, he removes them to finally face you, looking utterly defeated.

"Okay, but you can't tell anyone, alright? I'd lose my job; I'd probably get sued." His voice is hushed as his eyes flicker over to the closed door. Hoseok's apparent fear of being caught even talking about the siren gets your heart pumping harder.

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