DEVIL'S TANGO

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A/N: If it's shit, don't blame me❌

The downpour had subsided. And yet, the low humdrum was still audible.

Sweet hymns of splendour tranquility, falling against the soil, gracing the surface with its cool blessings to every breathing soul. They fell in a countless mannerism, laced with a pious melody, not too high, not too low. Just the perfect rhythm. The soft breeze whirled within the void, cold and fresh, few drops of rains splashing against the window panes, some finding their unrestricted entry through the open casements. The night was peaceful, and the subtle banter of the rainfall added another chord of calmness to the ambience.

The time was unknown, but perhaps it was quite close to twelve. An hour of rest after a long day's work. And so were all the residents of the abode, lost in their fantasy woven depths of somnolence. But just like everything has its own exception, so did this. There was still an occupant who yet had no speck of sleep in his eyes.

The lad stood by his bedside, tending to his clothes that he would wear the next day. He spread them neatly across the tidy sheets, pressing them with his hands to devoid them of any crease. He then folded them carefully, perfection at its peak and even in such a small task of folding clothes, the seriousness in his eyes was immaculate. He folded his shirt and pants and after completing his work, he kept them inside his wooden closet.

A stir of wind outdoors shook the trees and more rains travelled into his room but the lad paid no heed to it. On the contrary, the coolness of the breeze and the intervention of the raindrops were gladly welcomed by him. Having finished his other chores, he walked up to his bedside and kneeled down beside it, hands joined, eyes closed and lips uttering a series of thankful words as in a prayer.

"Thanking the heavens after risking your existence in hell? That too- on your knees? Bet you would look prettier in that position while indulging in some other activity, church boy."

The boy was started at the sudden voice in his otherwise empty room. Quickly, he opened his eyes and stood up, and instantly, his eyes fell on the open window of his room.

He froze.

Right upon the window sill with the nocturnal rain stained canvas providing an aesthetic background, he saw a boy sitting upon the  narrow space, with one leg upon the sill and another swinging down on the inside. With his back against the wall and hands resting on his knee, a lazy smirk curled up against his lips, eyes flashing with mischief. He was partly drenched, his hairs damp and his black shirt dripping in water, his rain soaked boots creating a mess upon the sill, the muddy water cascading down the wall of the room, making a small pool upon the floor. He didn't seem to care.

"H-Hongjoong? What are you doing here?"

The boy at the sill jumped down upon the floor and took of his boots. Without a care, he walked into the space and the first thing he did was to walk up to the door of the room and instantly close it from the inside, bolted and locked. The owner of the room stood at his place, awestruck at the chivalry of the other, extremely nervous and yet, a tiny spark of excitement lightened up within his self.

The other lad, namely Hongjoong, stood right against the door, watching the other boy stare back at him in surprise and awe, smirking. Realising that the latter was too astonished to speak, he slowly walked up to him and swiftly placed a hand around his petite waist, pulling him closer.

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