After an accident that leaves Yeosang injured and his brother dead, he flees the state, finding unhealthy outlets for his emotions. Finding himself deep in debt, he needs a quick way to make a lot of money
Seonghwa has lived his entire life seeking...
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Shadows often reflect one's greatest fears. Shifting and always there, amidst the light. There is no true escape from these shadows without darkness. When living life for pleasure, the dark is where one goes to hide from the sin which pleasure accompanies, and Yeosang was no fool. The night was where he thrived, and he indulged in it easily. A perfect act, looking particularly average in the morning, only to allow himself much greater rewards once the sun had finally set.
"You said you'd buy me a drink, daddy." Lips pressed against Yeosang's bare neck, the drunk girl fell right into his seductive nature.
"Balkan 176." The strong vodka drink slipped down a girl's throat and they were ready for him, too inconceivably intoxicated after just one shot that he could take anyone home. He called out to the bartender who watched as the girl's almost silver eyes from the glow of the club lights, traced Yeosang's body. Yeosang knew just how to make the girls he fucked so mercilessly into the dark corners of the night, as vulnerable and ready as he could.
"Oooh. That's strong." Only a whiff of the drink caused her to shut her eyes tight.
"Drink up, angel." A heavy hand up high on her thigh, with her position that which straddled Yeosang on the bar stool. No one spared them a glance. It wasn't anything they hadn't seen before. He always found those type of spots.
She was eager, and she didn't try to hide it. The drink was gone within minutes, and she was feeling it. She could barely see anything but Yeosang's face which focused against a blurry background.
"Let me take you to the back, angel." His tongue danced across her sweaty skin, the blinding lights not helping the intense heat he created.
"Yes, daddy."
───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───
Color streaked the pavement from the reflection the sun left on the gasoline that soaked Yeosang's feet protected only by a thin pair of socks. He walked closer to the source.
A stoner, who had pulled a gun out, the gasoline pouring out of the pump nozzle he so brutally punctured just minutes before.
The delirious man who threatened Yeosang's and the station attendant's lives dropped the nozzle, allowing his aim to better focus on Yeosang's forehead. A match box twisted delicately between the man's fingers, the cold gun choked by his other.
The gas attendant threw his hands up, walking backward slowly, and the stoner was quick to react. The gun then faced the flustered worker, and Yeosang freely ducked behind his own car. If Yeosang were being honest, he wasn't in much better shape than the crazed man who threatened to kill him then, but he was much better at hiding it. He had a way about him. An aura that kept him from doing what the man he faced was doing in front of him then.
