I dare you.

Mr. JEON?

''That's who Mrs.Jeon is always talking about? That's the golden grandson?

The fan from the oven drowned your own voice in your head. A petal from a flower in a vase on the shelf by your window floated towards the shiny unpersonal tiles of your kitchen floor as you put on ovenmits. ''That's the man that waters her plants when she's away?''. You shut the drawer and dragged your feet across the floor but stopped half way. ''That's the grandson that slept in the hospital with her last February when she broke her hip?''.

Mrs.Jeon was the sweetest woman you'd ever met, an angel in disguise, and the thought that the most angelic person you knew might be related to the most demonic one stunned you to your core.

You philosophized a long while, while staring at your own reflection in the dark window, the ovenmits cozying up to your hands. The soft gentleman she spoke about was the same one that had handled you with such rough hands. The voice that renewed Mrs. Jeons wedding vows was the same one that cursed your name with such passion. The same hands that fixed her sink, helped her reach the top shelf or carried her groceries on occasion was the same ones that had bruised your skin so violently, and the same kind eyes that smiled at her all the time, was the same ones that shot you with such rage and hatred. It couldn't possibly be right, you thought to yourself. They merely look alike, nothing more. It was unthinkable that such softness could be overpower by a hellion with a passion for pain and control. Honestly the thought that he baked the Christmas cookies left at your door in December, was surreal. It really couldn't be, there was no way, there simply was no way.

You snapped out of your head and turned off the oven, then just stared at the fan above the counter blowing dust through the air. ''That's the grandson she always wanted to fix you up with?''. You shook your head a little and opened the oven door, and as you swung it open a thick black smoke oozed out through the small gap and burned in your lunges. -Fuck, you said and ran across the room and threw the windows wide open. A tiny line of smoke slithered along the frame of the roof, grazing the smoke alarm, and - well that's where it stopped. A moment of calmness from your soul was disturbed by a terrorizing scream, like from a tiny dragon in excruciating pain, and a small moment of realization before a stream of water droplets jumped vigorously over your warm skin.

This wasn't the first time that the fire alarm had gone off in your building, but it was the first time you had been the one to set it up. Mrs. Jeon was an active tea-drinker and sometimes she didn't get to the kettle on time. But to be fair her stupid fire alarm was very strategically placed directly above her stove. You had been in her apartment many times; the smell of tea had settled deep within her light lavender walls. Even her coat, when you held the door for her, or stood next to her, the smell of sweet herbal tea was not to be mistaken. Every time she triggered the fire alarm, she'd just gently knock on your door to tell you that it was nothing to worry about, and if you could help her shut it off. It was a monthly thing.

The fire alarm spared no noise, as it cut through your ears, like an ardent opera trough fragile glass. It sounded like Lucifer falling from heaven, and a light painted your kitchen in red and white flickers. You reached for it, but it was too high up. You dragged a table chair directly under it wobbled your shaking legs one by one on top of white sticky leather, supporting yourself on the dark kitchen island like a walking stick. The wooziness got worse as the siren from the fire alarm got louder, and the vodka slowly entered your bloodstream. You cupped the alarm with your fingers and squeezed the off button, but nothing happened. You pressed it again, and again, but nothing happened, and while you were desperately trying to turn it off, a strong knocking came from the outside of your door. -Fuck. You muttered in a panic. -Its all well Mrs.Jeon, just had a tiny accident while heating a pizza! You pressed and held the button, but nothing happened, while the knocking continued. -Mrs. Jeon, really everything is fine, I just can't figure out how to turn the alarm off properly.

You stress pushed all the buttons you could find, but nothing seemed to word, while a cloud of thunder was hammering on your door. -Mrs. Jeon, everything's fine, just go back to your apartment! The fire alarm screamed into your ears. -FUCK! In a moment of insanity, you gripped around the small box attached to the roof, and ripped it out, wires and all. The screaming stopped and for short second everything went quiet before white chalk started gentry drizzling from the roof. Small flakes of chalk fell from above like the beginning of a blizzard, soft and beautiful, quiet before the storm.

The sound of bubbles of air being sucked trough the compact steel pipe belched painfully trough the quiet apartment and sporadic drops of water came flowing out through a small hatch in the tight tube. The cylinder went through your apartment and supplied you with water. -This cannot be good. Another rumbling surge went through the tight pipe. Fire alarm in one hand and a vodka-tremble in the other, you hopped off the chair and prepared for the worst. First it was quiet, the world outside held its breath while the wind caressed the surface of items in the night, and the trees whispered to each other. You and the fire alarm stared hatefully at each other while beads of clear water got ready at the start line. Then they ran. A small barely visible stream of water started off the race, before more and more pearls joined the stream. The knocking on your door continuing viciously. -I swear to god- You ran to the door in a panic. -Mrs. Jeon, everything is fine, seriously there's no need to worr- As you swung open the door you ran straight in to the familiar stare of Lucifer himself.  You let go of the door and the empty frame exposed your apartment. -Is everything alright? He'd taken of his caps, and his leather jacket. His V neck t-shirt exposed a delicious amount of neck, and small infrequent lines of dried up blood were barely visibly under the t-shirt cuts by his biceps. You quickly turned your face in to the shadows and waited for something to break the silence. -We heard the fire alarm and- You fiddled with the long sleeves of your sweater, pulling off pieces of lint while looking away from the direct light, the light that could identify you in a second. -Yeah, uhm- You started and were about to explain how you had a pizza accident. -I know you. A surge of frosty winter air went through your body and crashed in to your red and embarrassed face. Inside your apartment a puddle of water started running from your kitchen to your living room and towards the commence hallway where time stood still.

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