Bulletborn, Chapter Four
BULLETBORN; R
a little more r-rated here, whoops ;)
I’m dressed in a frilly red gown that Siwon buys me, matching his equally dapper suit. The place we are destined to go can’t even be called a house, nor a mansion. It’s worthy of being called a castle, with splendid walls behind tall gates and massive historical statues gazing upon them at every turn. We look like undercover spies, I secretly squeal. Siwon pays for me to get my hair, make-up and nails done at some noveau-riche alley salon and I feel shy when Siwon admired the result, telling me I look very much the part of a woman. We enter the home arm in arm, mutual fake smiles plastered.
I can’t help but whistle as I look around. The house looks even bigger than anything my father had ever acquired, something he would have surely been jealous about if he had been there. A waiter walks past us and offers champagne much to the surprise of me. I look at Siwon for permission and he grants me it with a quick eyebrow, bowing to other well dressed people and offering some casual greetings as I drink the bubbly beverage that makes my nose tickle. And then I’m whirled into some side closet with a light headache and a controlled Siwon.
“Alright. So while I go out there, you are going to keep guard. Remember, no killing. Violence should always be the last resort, only used as a defense.” Siwon pushes down on my shoulders and I nod sloppily, trying to get to my feet to stand together in sync. I may have been an expert with cigarettes but I was never much of a drinker. “For shits sake, you only had like three sips of champagne - get it together! This is the real deal!”
Siwon shakes me hard until I am able to nod with a straight stare. He gives me one last longing stare, clearly fazed about my condition but he knows its too late to change the plan, too late to change anything. It’s the moment when everything was supposed to tie together in a neat package and I couldn’t just fuck it up because I had some fine liquor and had my hair curled into pretty little ringlets. Siwon leaves the closet and knocks over a broom like a jilted groomsmen, while I give myself another moment to collect.
When I step out, I make my way down the hall, doing a well-rounded imitation of a party-goer doing the bathroom dance with my legs before narrowing down a guided stairway, familiarly memorized into my head from the blueprint back in the hotel. I follow the velvet steps down, keeping my back to the wall, praying Siwon is having an excellent time upstairs. The stairs finally end and I come to a flat - before edging around the room and into the backdoor which leads to another hallway - endless and dark and unbecoming.
Forever passes until Il reach the end of the darkness. It’s eerily quiet and the sounds of the party above are drowned out from being so deep underground and it gives me a bit of the chills so I stop. Siwon had told me to keep guard down here, where we were supposed to meet but something feels off, and I am not sure what I’m supposed to be looking for or how long he will be. I check my watch for the fifth time when I hear it, BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG and the ever so faint screaming from the party. Was Siwon the one that had been shot upstairs? Was he dead? My hands are weaponless, and I start to panic before remembering that I had snuck Siwon’s special revolver into my corset and under my bra and I take it out reluctantly, hoping that Siwon doesn’t come out and see it. But then, what good was it to leave me weaponless? I start psyching myself out, flooded with the idea that maybe Siwon had planned this all along, maybe this was an endless idea to leave me stranded and deserted and all alone to die. A trap.
I start to hyper-ventilate.
-
Siwon rounds the corner just as I find the time to hide the gun again, a look of stricken panic all over his eyes.
“Are you okay?” he whispers and I shake my head, a mix of relief and trepidation. He nears me with those impeding eyebrows, and takes my hand before I can stop him. His palms are sweaty, more clammy than me and we walk back the way I came from together with him leading the way.
“It wasn’t supposed to be like this, I wasn’t supposed to kill them. They were supposed to only be three on guard, just in the back not actually in the party. Something must have disrupted their plan.”
He sounds anxious, and he clenches my hand as we walk through the darkness for comfort. Suddenly I don’t feel so scared anymore, slapping myself silly for even considering Siwon to be a traitor for that fleeting moment. There’s a roaring crash from one of the floors upstairs and Siwon starts to run, making me keep up.
“Come on. We have to get out of here before we get trapped.”
We start running until we reach the landing of the second floor and Siwon takes us on a detour. All the blueprints in the world couldn’t have predicted the absolute chaos of guests in gala costumes and expensive jewelery running around in a frenzy, bumping into each other and accusing one another of being murderers.
We get to the back entrance when someone assaults from the side, knocking us over and I lose grip of Siwon’s hand, pummeled into the ground, twisting my ankle because of those idiotic towering heels Siwon made me wear. I wince getting up, looking around for Siwon, gasping when I see he’s fighting with two massive guards simultaneously, one grabbing him from the back restraining him, the other giving him weak blows into the stomach. The pain must be brutal, but Siwon doesn’t show it, keeping his lips tight, before he gathers strength in his legs and knocks one guys down before all three of them fall in a heap. My first instinct is to go over and help but I wait, wait to make sure they don’t see me and look around for something I can use as a weapon when someone else grabs me from behind, gagging me with a scarf, clutching at my bare arms roughly. I shake my legs, but the person drags me, drags me towards Siwon and I see his eyes go wide with fright; but the other guys have outnumbered him and I can only watch in shock as they pummel him with their fists, blood spurting from his mouth disgustingly.
I try shouting “Oppa!” but the gag holds me back, the taste of it enough to make me puke. If only I had a way of reaching the gun in my bra I think, before making an attempt to kick my napper in the shins. It half-works but they decide to throw me towards Siwon and one of the other guys punches me right in the gut and I kneel over in tear-splitting pain. Somewhere amidst the ongoing gunfire and shouting and kicks, one of Siwon’s hands find me underneath a pair of legs and I grab on, holding on with all my might. This is it, I think, helplessly watching as a man tackles Siwon and he fights back, breaking the guy’s nose with one swift punch. Then another guy tackles him and I can’t see his face anymore, only his long slender legs in the huddle before another guy sees me and gives me a sly smile, climbing on top of me and hiking up my gown. I scream, my teeth seething against the scarf, kicking my legs with all my might but the guy is about a hundred pounds heavier than me and easily overpowers me. All those useless nights of training can not prepare me for what I cannot fight now.
“Krystal!” I hear a cry from Siwon as the guy closes in on me with a deafening grip on my leg. I try to close my eyes than choose against it, wanting to remember every detail of this guy so that when I make his life a living hell later it’ll be worth it. But I don’t have to- because someone is already doing that for me, grabbing him by his collar and throwing him across the room. It’s not Siwon, although it looks like it from the back - it’s Minho. Again, to save the day.
That tiny thought I had been so very good at pushing in the back of my mind about his annoying neck and angelic lips comes to fruition when he’s there in front of me and a part of me wants to jump into his arms and stay there. But he’s destroying the room in a fury. He takes out a gun - the one I stole back that while back and begins to shoot, his aim precise and only needing one shot to get the guy who assaulted me. He then continues, sending the room and the nearby crowds into a tizzy, nailing the guys over Siwon and then the extra attackers around. I hurl myself over to Siwon, limping, and sitting him up straight. He’s in pretty bad shape, but he seems to take it pretty well, able to stand up despite the raw bruise to his cheek and knees. He lays a heavy shoulder over me and we do the lookover, waiting for any more predators on the loose, and I hand him the gun from out of my bra for his protection. I don’t care if he gets mad or asks where I got it from or what are the consequences, but he doesn’t ask, already making a wild guess as to what I did. He takes it and shoots a guy daring to come in from outside the glass doors and I shudder when his body thuds on to the ground.
And then Minho comes back from the other room, a sweet lip puffed up from a new wound, his hair flying frantic and he grabs one of our hands each, taking us out the backdoor and away from the madness. He puts himself in the middle of us, bearing the weight of most of Siwon and myself with my twisted ankle, but he makes no conscious moment to stop or slow down, even. But after a couple of yards, Siwon stops to take a breather by the planted palm trees, hunching over.
“Come on, hyung. We have to go.”
“Hold on, Minho. How’d you know? Where did you come from?”
But Minho still tugs at our arms, eager like a puppy. “I have her hyung. She’s in the car!”
Siwon starts fast walking to keep up with Minho’s pace and I’m left, struggling to keep up. “What do you mean?”
“They started freaking out. I knew they knew you were near from my post as I watched them - idiots. They led me straight to her by double checking the area. But because they knew we were on to them - they counter-attacked and well...”
Minho doesn’t have to say anymore because Siwon can tell it’s not good and he quickens his pace. We reach the stolen truck Minho must have jacked earlier and he opens the door. Siwon clambers in and a sharp gasp escapes from him. I peer out behind his shoulder, curious but I immediately turn away, the glance I took enough to make me almost faint. I didn’t have any doubts that it was the woman in the picture, but she’s hardly recognizable with a gaping wound to her thighs, a wrecked chest and a broken arm. Blood spurts from all directions, blackened and her beautiful face is marred underneath, only hints of her former beauty daring to show. They might as well have shot her in the head.
“Sooyoung,” Siwon cries, heartbreakingly so, cradling her head and observing her wounds. He doesn’t know where to start; it’s a terrible masterpiece. “It’s me, Siwon. I’m here.”
She doesn’t say anything back. She barely looks up at him and the smell of skin rotting takes over the air. I hide behind Minho’s arm, looking around for any remaining intruders. The area is safe but won’t be for long and I squeeze Minho to bring him back to reality and urgency.
“Hyung, what do you want to do? We can’t stay here.”
“We should take her to the hospital now.” I whisper as Siwon takes off his tux coat and rips off a sleeve from his shirt , tying it around her leg for a tourniquet.
“Are you insane?” he yells at me, “that’s the first place they are going to be looking for us. We have to take her somewhere far. Minho. Drive. Now.”
It’s an order if I ever heard one but Minho doesn’t hesitate, going to the front of truck while I’m left to get into the passenger seat, as we drive far and forever. From time to time, I turn back and watch as Siwon cares to her, ignoring his own wounds, mending her with all the spontaneous remedies he can come up with, the anxiety never leaving him, and I wonder if the woman in the picture will make it through the night.
-
The last thing I see before I inevitably doze off is a sign saying we’re leaving Daegu.
Minho shakes my leg to wake me when we finally reach our destination, and I do an unbelievable double-take. I get out of the car and clutch my chest. We’re standing back in front of Siwon’s loft.
-
Being back in Siwon’s loft is pure torture. All the memories of late night training and the smell of Siwon’s commanding scent stuck in his pillowcase which I slept on every night seem to stick in the air. Being on kitchen duty is a bit better than twenty mile sprints but I tire easily of washing the dishes and making bowl after bowl of soup for the ailing Sooyoung. Minho seems to be relegated to outdoor chores which suit him just fine, barely coming in for the day as he tends to the neglected yard, and kills the chickens with joy for our dinner feasts.
“Krystal, bring me a wash cloth!” Siwon bellows from the loft upstairs, which has now become his and Sooyoung’s little hospital haven. I don’t bother to shout back, preparing the wash cloth with sarcastic glee and taking my time to go up the stairs. I guess it’s supposed to be cute, but I find it sickening, the way Siwon takes care of her, placing the cloth immediately on to her forehead, as she thanks him adoringly with an appreciative smile. The change in him is outstanding; it’s like he’s a different person. Siwon treats Sooyoung like a princess, tending to her wounds and never leaving her sight unless he absolutely has to, telling her goodnight stories and good morning ones, chattering when her fever gets to high to keep her distracted, and holding her hand while she sleeps for assurance that she’s not alone. It’s a miracle she survived what she did, a miracle named Siwon.
It’s like we don’t exist anymore, and its far worse than when Minho came in to the picture. Now I was just an afterthought of a memory, more of a tool to assist in Sooyoung’s world and he made no effort to hide it. My blood begins to boil as the nights go by, hoping for one measly glance from him, one measly smile for doing something right. Instead, I see his special smile for her - the smile where his face lights up and his wrinkles decrease and there is a glimpse of human behind all that weariness. It’s even worse when she grins back, bringing a weak hand to stroke his face with intimacy. This isn’t what I signed up for, I wasn't supposed to be this dejected servant.
“Krystal! Bring me a glass of water.” I ignore Siwon’s new howl, running an exasperated hand through my hair. It’s long now, falling to the middle of my back, and thinner too - strands of it falling out from too much stress.
I make my way to the underground tool-shed, lighting it up when I get there. I don’t know why I didn’t do this sooner, the dim lighting and unwelcoming aura a new sanctuary for me, better than any five star hotel could be. I strum my fingers through the weapons on the main table, beautiful knives meaning nothing anymore, useless as they sit there, like me. I take out the gun I had been holding from my pant leg and place it on the table. It didn’t feel good holding such a stolen treasure and at least the literal weight could be lifted off my shoulder. I have two options, I think after I finish looking at the table - either break down and cry or pick up one of the swords and kill myself off. I choose to combine the two by picking up the sword and leashing it around the shed with a warrior cry.
“Easy, Soojung. You could cut a heart out with that thing.”
Minho makes his way down the stairs and out of the shadows with a knowing smirk. I put the sword down reluctantly, another hand flying through my hair. I pull out two strands and sigh.
“How’s your leg?”
“Existing. You?”
“I still exist,” he walks near me, picking up the sword I had put down. “What about you? Hiding down here pretending not to?”
“Don’t.” I say. Minho’s treading on water he shouldn’t, especially not with my wave of emotions lately. But he seems to like where this is going, and he walks closer to me, slowly.
“Don’t what exactly?”
“Don’t act like you have me figured out by the back of your hand. You don’t.”
“I can tell you’re jealous of her. But he still cares about you,” he says, close enough that he cups my chin in his fingers before I get the chance to back away. “I missed your angry little face while I was gone. I’m sure my brother would miss it too if you were to ever run away.”
I’m in a headspin now, my fists clenched into balls, urging to deck him. Goosebumps prickle my skin at his audacity to predict how I feel.
“You don’t know,” I snap, “what it feels like. I used to be something around here with him.”
“I don’t know how I feel?” He’s looking at me like I’m the mad one and now his voice is raising back. “You are the one who took over my position in his life! Every fucking time I tried to have a conversation with my brother he would always try and talk about you! How you were, how you were feeling, how I needed to help and take care of you! You didn’t see that?”
I did, and he knows it - it was the cause of all our friction when he first came in the picture, but that didn’t mean I had to enjoy being called out on it. “You know what Minho, I’m so sick and tired of your judgemental behavior. If you want to hate me, just go out and hate me. Stop giving me this bullshit and let me be.”
“I’m not going to let you feel sorry for yourself when it comes to my brother. Him and Sooyoung noona have a history. There’s a lot there you don’t understand, you are too young to understand what they have-”
“Are you fucking serious?” I pounce forward, erasing all those backward steps I had been taking with one step. I’m in his face, flushed and I’m close enough that I could count each of the tiny hairs in his masculine eyebrows. “I’m old enough to know that I’m sick of all of this, all of it. And I’m old enough to know that I despise you and you constantly belittling me for my age. And I am definitely old enough to know that you will never be half the man your big brother is.”
There’s satisfaction bubbling in my stomach when I finish but the passion inside me seems to be unable to shut up. I can’t help it, so I add just a little more. “So you can suck it.”
I’m pushed against a wall before I can scream bloody murder and it’s like my back is breaking when I reach it, the pain searing from the bottom of my spine to my neck. I’m paralyzed under Minho’s hold and he growls at me, his doe-eyes piercing me viciously, like I’m prey. He brings a hand to my neck, something I’m oh, so familiar with but I do the same, holding him in place at a distance, quickly outsmarting him and taking my other hand and tugging it at the back of his head, a full grasp of his hair in my hold. This seems to turn him wild and he leans in, despite my grip, and I don’t see it coming. He presses his rough lips against mine, taking me in a chaste kiss. When he parts, our eyes lock and I know it’s coming but it happens before either of us has the conscious to stop.
My legs wrap high around his thighs as he shoves me harder against the wall into position and I wince at the pain but fight through it, as his fingers clumsily unzip my jeans while I hike myself higher until I’m clawing at his shoulders so I don’t fall to the ground.
“Soojung,” he begs, burying his mouth into the nape of my neck and it drives me insane, sending me to reach below and push his pants down with equally fumbling hands. I take a quick peek; he’s hung, massive, and ready. He grabs me steady with both hands pressing on my bare hips and I use the wall and his waist to keep me from sliding. And then he thrusts.
Minho thrusts into me hard, quickly, fast, and I don’t feel the sensation immediately because all I can think about is keeping up with nothing to hold. I tug at the back of his shirt, lifting it with one fist in desperation as my back bends inwards when he starts reaching deeper and I can’t keep straight. He stops for a moment, worried, taking a sloppy hand to move the hair straying across my face but I shake my head no, tell him to keep going while I am still in the moment and so he does, repositioning me, pounding into me harder with no mercy.
I’m a powerless victim in his hold and when he looks at me like I’m some sort of conquest, like I lost the battle for his win, I burn. This is different than the numerous times I’ve had sex before - Minho’s different - he sparkles with naughty sweat and his thighs pulsate underneath me in full glory. Or maybe the sex is different because I’m willing.
“Minho,” I moan several times under his spell as my back curves and his hands loosen from my hips, beginning to tire from my weight. But he keeps to, letting my legs slide down his thighs as he continues to thrust, even with my feet dangerously wanting to touch the ground. “Minho.” I say again, like a mantra, my tone wailing and needy. I wonder if they can hear us upstairs but I forget a second later when Minho buries himself into my neck again, licking all my impurities away with a filthy tongue while a curious finger goes somewhere it shouldn’t and I impale my fingers into his back as a result, my orgasm curling into blinding delight.
He unburies himself from my neck with a slow, terrifying lack of breath as he finds my ear, whispering with his last bout of energy, “Call me oppa. Like how you call my brother.”
“Oppa,” I say immediately, and he comes inside me, unloading in a panted fervor, his last thrust just as powerful and fast as his first. We slide against the wall together in a slicked mess, limbs still wrapped around each other, unable to distinguish or separate. We don’t bother to put our pants back on, and I like the sensation of him still inside me as we unravel, a new feeling I couldn’t pinpoint. I weave my arms around his neck and he smiles lazily behind a tangle of my hair and we stay like this, without any regard for personal space.
Like a bell, Siwon’s voice can be heard faintly from upstairs.
“Minho! Krystal! Where are you guys? Minho! Krystal!”