Euthymia

Like A Petal

"You ever heard the name Park Chanyeol before?"

"I'm familiar with him, yes."

"Well, I think he's dead."

The boss slides a copy of the file on Byun Baekhyun across the desk – the same file he lent to Chanyeol before the hitman went MIA and stopped answering his phone. One day. It's only been one day. No reason to raise concern. Except for the fact Chanyeol can kill anyone in a few hours flat. No hesitation. Byun Baekhyun should've been dead by morning. Chanyeol should've come back to collect his earnings and go. But when the boss called at sunrise – radio silence.

"I hired him to kill someone very important. He might've gotten caught."

"Park Chanyeol doesn't get caught."

"Park Chanyeol also doesn't typically kill Gangnam royalty."

A young, petite woman stalks out of the shadows of the club office, one hand on the handle of her katana. Pheromones reeking of hydrangeas – earth, pollen, honey, jasmine, sandalwood. Feminine and masculine. Sweet but poisonous.

"So?"

"I've heard good things about you. You know how to kill people."

She ambles to the furthest end of the room and picks up a flower vase. Ceramic. Hand painted with loops and swirls. Ugly. She thinks about smashing it.

"Winter?"

"I'm listening."

"You can kill Byun Baekhyun, right?"

"Sure. Why not?"

"And find out what the hell happened to my hitman?"

She puts the vase down, her hand back on the sword.

"What if he's alive?"

"Send him back to me."

"And what if he didn't do his job because he chose not to?"

The boss shrugged. "Kill him too."

◐◐◐

Baekhyun doesn't want to wake up. Doesn't want to stop dreaming. Doesn't want to disrupt the peace of mind he experiences only on rare occasions. He wants to stay in a reality he has control over, full of sunshine and smiles, good wine and cigarettes. No Sehun to fuss over him. No Suho to nag him. No black suits to suffocate him. No black at all. No cubes, no polar bears, no boring paintings. No packs, no territories, no alphas or omegas. No Park Chanyeol.

But the night can not live on forever. Dreams die with the moon, shrivel up and disintegrate in the sunlight. Baekhyun's eyes flicker open against his will. Sehun left the curtains open on the balcony. His boring room drowns in white light, melting his retinas. He groans, throwing the sheets over his head.

"Get up, Sleepy Head."

Sehun's hands touch him through the barrier of fabric, rubbing his thigh and patting his foot. Baekhyun kicks him away.

"Come on, there's no sleeping in today. We have to pack."

A head of blond and gray hair pokes out, the sheets coming down to his eyes and not going any lower. Like a hippopotamus peeking out of the water. Sehun finally takes a moment to stop and admire his mate and smile for the first time all morning.

"Pack for what?" Baekhyun's voice is muffled by the sheets. Like talking in a dream – soft and distorted.

"Your father wants you out of the city. Some very dangerous people want to hurt you right now."