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【 実行 】
Taehyung was running.
Heart pounding painfully against his chest and his blood rushing loud enough to almost deafen the sound of his heavy footfall as he sprinted down the street, bumping past the lazy shoppers and idle students having just escaped from the confines of their schools. Panting like a dog, he felt sweat starting to bead upon his skin as he ran for dear life, squeezing between two people and not even managing to get out an apology before turning and running down the next grey street.
Glancing over his shoulder as he ran, he spotted sight of the men dressed in nothing but black chasing after him; and with an almost terrified yelp, he swung his head back to face forward again as he charged for his life along the pavement, bumping into a man carrying flyers and spraying the grey with the slips of multicoloured paper. He yelled a quick 'sorry' over his shoulder at the disgruntled man, and didn't linger to help clean up as he saw the men nearing along the streets.
With a curse, he launched himself through a crowd of tourists then out into the road, cursing his stupid decisions as he ran helterskelter across the busy street, narrowly avoiding cars and yelling in surprise at every horn and angry shout of the drivers. And it wasn't until he'd only just managed to get himself onto the other side of the street without being squished into a Taehyung pancake that he'd looked back with his lungs burning, wheezing as he held onto a signpost to laugh at the two men scowling across from him.
"See you round, losers!" he yelled happy, though they probably couldn't hear him. Nobody was so suicidal as to run across a street like this, especially not when the boy they were after wasn't worth the risk. Then with a sigh of relief, Taehyung swept his hair back and walked away, heart still flummoxing but otherwise his blood buzzing with that euphoria of seeing the dissatisfaction on an enemy's face.
Well, enemy was probably the wrong word for it. Loan sharks made better sense, that was for certain.
Thankfully they hadn't found his apartment quite yet, neither his occupation which he held on the sidelines to try and pay for his student debts as well as the loans of which he hadn't managed yet to pay off. But Taehyung wasn't too worried, and as he walked along the street trying to wipe the sweat from his cheeks, he felt an odd sense of excitement. There was always something thrilling about being chased.
Taehyung's secret job was something that he liked to think of as a novel profession. And whilst in daylight after class he had the one part-time in that quaint little bookshop, he held a secondary one, one which only took up his friday to sunday nights, and occasionally a few days midweek if his boss was desperate or another had canceled.
