Peaches & Cream

Operation Care

"No, we're not." You answer immediately.

Two seconds later, when the weight of what Baekhyun has just said steps in, you wince. You can't possibly think what might make him say that, but what does he mean?

You wonder if you're still dreaming.

Being kidnapped even once should have been enough to knock on your senses, yet here you are. When you look down at Baekhyun again, he looks like he's having the same thoughts.

Woah. You think, sarctastic (internally). This is the guy who threatened to ruin my life but ended up saving me. And then will be supposedly accomanying me to the afterlife soon.

He glares at you, and despite the cuts literring is once beautifully haughty face, the force of it makes you squirm uncomfortably in your not-so-uncomfortable seat.

"Yes, we are." He scowls, as if daring you to oppose his statement again. Though your brain is significantly aware of the fact that he is tied to an old pipe and is probably not in a condition too favourable to inflict any sort of physical damage to you, you still go still. "It was bad enough without you, and now that he has you, he's not going to let me live, either."

"Why not?" You're genuinely curious at this point. "You're supposed to be his right-hand man, right? Or he yours, whatever the arrangement is supposed to be."

"Not since I let you go." He winces, and you realise that his condition is probably worse than he makes it out to be. Judging by the the bad way his face his bruised, you wouldn't be surprised if something is broken, too. "And definitely not since I opposed him."

You hesitate. Baekhyun? Oppose Jimin, the one he was so keen on recruiting in his Death Dealers?

"Why would you do that?" The question bubbles up before you can stop it, and the man's eyes narrow. "I thought he was your leader's kid, or something."

"He is." The way he says it in the present tense makes you flinch. The situation suddenly seems realer. "But he kills. He messes up deals, he's too headstrong - he's too vicious."

Some part of you scoffs at the way he says it. And you're not?

"Right." You cough, managing to sound saracastic despite the pain all over your body.

Baekhyun's gleaming emerald eyes flicker over your features, as if trying to understand your body language. "I know what you think of me, and I know that most of it is, indeed, correct. But I wasn't as indifferent. I was a plotter, a planner, yes. But I never killed, like that-" His face contorts in disgust. "In such cold blood."

You made him that way, you want to scream. You took away everything he had, you took away his identity, his right to be himself.

It feels wrong, to defend a killer. Somehow you believe the ravenet's words. But you contradict your own beliefs.

"I know what you're thinking, and you're probably wrong." He shakes his head, and you notice that his lip ring is spattered with blood. The sight makes you sick. "Not everything is black and white - there are more gray spaces than either. Jimin isn't bad, and he sure as hell isn't good - he's just there."

You don't speak.

"Situations mold personality." He sighs, and for a moment, he sounds genuine, quiet. "Personality adapts, not survives."

Scoffing, you turn your head to the side, but its actually to avoice his gaze. "Sure."

"Do you know why I'm here, Y/N?" The question is so sudden, your brain stops working for a moment. You look at him again, surprised, only to find his worn gaze already on you.

He looks tired.

"When I was younger," He starts, swiping his tongue over his bloody lip ring. "I did something that madr my father - my only family - kick me out." He smiles dryly. "And what sucks is that he wasn't a bad person either - but he couldn't let his daughter be something that he didn't want to exist."

Your brow furrows momentarily. Daughter? And then it hits.

You stare at him, wide-eyed.

"Yeah." Baekhyun sighs, and your eyes pick out the obvious features you don't know how you didn't notice before. The turn of his cupid's bow, the soft jawline, the shape of his eyes. "I was a girl once."

You open your mouth, and close it again.

"When I had no one else, Park's gang took me in. They let me be who I am, and they also made me who I am." His eyes are dull now, nostalgic, exhausted, and you feel misplaced guilt. "I didn't realise it back then, but they didn't take me in because they cared-" He chuckles, a sound that dies as soon as it surfaces. "But because they didn't."

You can't do anything but stare in horror, breathing sympathy that you're sure he wouldn't want. You don't know how to answer, but you speak the first thing that cones to your mind.

"Why'd you help me?" The undertone of your voice is still coloured with soft surprise.

He looks up, and for the first time, you see warmth in his glittering green eyes.

"Because I care." He says simply, and smiles.