Hongjoong wore a lovely red knee-length dress for breakfast. The row of buttons at the front could be closed up to his neck and the surrounding fabric over his collarbones was made of sweet lace. It was cute, and it fit Hongjoong's recently developed taste in dresses more than the others in his closet. He donned it with charm as he watched the simple, but so flattering design on his body in the mirror.

Hongjoong found Seonghwa already sipping his tea and reading today's paper in front of the fireplace when he entered the sitting room. Characteristically busy, Jongho bent over the table and placed down plates with baked goods and jam for them to enjoy.

"Good morning, lady Hongjoong," Jongho greeted him first. They shared a smile as Hongjoong stepped inside.

Seonghwa glanced up, and right back down to his paper, but he halted mid-air. This time when he rose his eyes to Hongjoong, they lingered and glided over the dress on Hongjoong.

"Good morning," Seonghwa said as well. He cleared his throat before he put the paper aside to prepare his rolls. Jongho politely moved aside to allow Hongjoong access to his seat opposite of Seonghwa.

"I assume you found the book I left for you last night?" Seonghwa said while he arranged his bread. He wore all black today, and the collar of his shirt was connected by two flower brooches that held up a flimsy chain crossing over the middle.

"I did, thank you very much. I already enjoyed reading some of it," Hongjoong replied. When he caught Jongho's disbelieving gaze, he smiled. The earl and he must make an unusual picture, getting along. Once they had everything they needed, the butler whisked off to help Mingi and Emily in the laughter-filled kitchen.

"Are you getting enough sleep? I will have to lock the library if it hinders your health." Faint humour carried in his voice, though Hongjoong panicked. The books were his sole comfort in this suffocating house.

"I sleep plenty; there is no need for such drastic measures."

"Very well." Seonghwa burrowed into his paper again while Hongjoong got to listen to the crackling of the fire in peace while he savoured his tea.

After a while of silence, Hongjoong spoke up again. He had noticed Seonghwa got stuck on a specific page, and a faint crease in his brow gave away the likelihood of dreadful news.

"What does the paper say?"

"They found another body in the eastern part of the underworld. A prostitute with her innards ripped out to be displayed in the streets." Seonghwa rustled with the page to make sure the page was high enough that Hongjoong couldn't peer down to the dark illustration.

Hongjoong came from the south-west, near the area Seonghwa's carriage always crossed to make its way into the city in the evenings. As safe as it sounded, the murders still happened in the same city.

"San has established a list of suspects by now, and one of them might be the Ripper. The police are sure almost every death in the slums where women are involved is his legacy."

Hongjoong set his cup down before he would start shaking. He didn't know any women dear to him who were at risk, but he grieved for the women who had no other means to live than being out at night, exposed and vulnerable, while knowing the Ripper did his ill deeds.

"Is there a major suspect?"

Seonghwa hummed.

"San believes it might be a man by the real name of Jeong Yunho. He hasn't disclosed this to law enforcement yet, but we have reason to believe it's him. His uncanny interest in the female body makes him stand out as someone knowledgeable in the field of anatomy. The man San has his eyes on is a doctor of our class who might use the secretive disappearances of the ladies of the night for his sick games."

"The mutilation is the reason it gets reported? The other girls raped and killed every night rarely get a case," Hongjoong muttered.

"Five deaths have been linked to him so far. One crueller than the next. I believe it's in the police's interest to detain this person, even if nobody of worth has been killed yet. We never know whether that might change."

The corners of Hongjoong's lips tightened. Seonghwa glanced up at the lack of a reply.

"You look pale. Are you intimidated by him? While you are here, he has no access to you."

"I already told you I am no prostitute. And I would appreciate it if you stopped looking down on those who are."

With a frown, Seonghwa focused on his paper again.

"Is there respect to pay to women who sell their bodies? What else do women have if not their virtue?"

"Haven't you learned that yet? Opinions, wisdom, life experience, like every other person. Would you be more concerned if these were men like you? Or does the prospect of lower-class women who imperil the wellbeing of the upper-class men who rent them getting slaughtered fill you with a sick sense of entertainment?"

"I am not entertained by death," Seonghwa hissed. His voice had become sharper and his eyes lost contact with the page in his fingers.

"Yet you play detective with San as if you were a boy playing with sticks."

Seonghwa put the paper down with a sigh.

"I apologise if I offended you, but I agree that killers have no place in London, no matter who they are and who they kill."

He had apologised, actually apologised. But Hongjoong was too distraught to stop his comments.

"Do you have no sense of responsibility? If Jeong Yunho is a man of your class, then what will you say about it? Will you excuse his wretched pleasure in killing the poor as a leisure sport?"

Seonghwa shook his head with the gravity of a politician. His remaining food was left untouched as he focused on their exchange.

"By far not. Is it your sense of solidarity that has you suffer with these women? Since for you, too, there would be no choice but be outside occasionally? Do you refer to their fear?"

Hongjoong stood from the table. He was neither a woman nor was he in a position to become a victim. He disliked this conversation for its character. Seonghwa could ask all he wanted, he wouldn't understand Hongjoong's perspective. He didn't know the raw reality of this matter. He saw it as no more than a game.

"I have lived with you for several weeks now, earl. If you still can't have even an ounce of compassion if the same happened to me, I'm afraid I am sharing the table with the wrong person." Hongjoong stood. His food weighed in his stomach like stones and the elation of the merry servants two rooms over contrasted with the dreary atmosphere of the sitting room.

Before Hongjoong could storm off, Seonghwa's voice held him back.

"Pardon me if I brought up something I shouldn't have. This is by no means an enjoyable topic, and especially not made for breakfast. Please, sit down."

Hongjoong hesitated. Seonghwa sounded genuine, and his eyes begged Hongjoong to stay for once.

Only because he had to finish his food, so Jongho wouldn't worry; Hongjoong sunk back into his seat. Albeit still queasy, he picked up his food again.

Seonghwa didn't bring it up again and instead turned their argument in a more light-hearted direction. Hongjoong was thankful for it.

"I heard you got a letter from Wooyoung this morning. Have you two become friends?"

"We did. Wooyoung taught me about casual day hobbies."

Amused, Seonghwa's brow quirked.

"For example?"

"He said I wouldn't have the patience to try embroidery or sewing, but perhaps I could do some relaxing sports aside from my readings. The activity would keep me healthy."

Seonghwa glanced at the rain-dotted windows.

"Perhaps on a sunnier day, we could go out into the gardens and I could introduce you to croquet. Any other sport I enjoy doing for recreation might be unbefitting for a lady."

Hongjoong rolled his eyes. Even in skirts, he could outdo Seonghwa in athleticism any day.

"I would enjoy that," he said still. Better some lame sport than no sport at all.

"I also agree with Wooyoung that you are not made for more refined activities. Your elegance fails you a lot." Seonghwa nodded at Hongjoong spreading his legs further than appropriate for this dress. Blushing, Hongjoong snapped them shut.

"Perhaps I see no need for manners like you do neither. You said it's a free house."

"It is, but not as free as for flour wars or similar jests."

Hongjoong's eyes flashed. All prior upset was forgotten as he was challenged once more. When he reached for a pastry, Seonghwa watched him throw and catch it with his bare hand a few times.

"Remember that war? You were pleasantly quiet during that because you didn't want too much flour in your mouth."

"Don't you dare throw that biscuit at me," Seonghwa threatened with a low voice.

Hongjoong grinned.

"I won't." With that, he sprung to his feet to stuff the baked good in Seonghwa's mouth by hand. Seonghwa didn't go down without a fight. When Hongjoong charged at him, Seonghwa caught his wrists and leaned out of reach. Hongjoong climbed on the couch by his side and stretched to torture the earl.

"A fine woman you are," Seonghwa huffed out between laughter when Hongjoong struggled with him. Their wrestling was both a punishment and the same type of fun Hongjoong enjoyed having with Seonghwa on those rare days. Their scuffle went unnoticed by the kitchens.

"Never underestimate a woman's determination to make a man shut up," Hongjoong howled back. He was about to triumph as Seonghwa crumbled under his weight and the surprising force in Hongjoong's arms.

To make up for his loss, Seonghwa wrapped an arm around Hongjoong's waist and spun them around.

In his shock to reach for his hair, Hongjoong dropped his weapon. His eyes squeezed shut as his back met the couch. For a moment, Seonghwa's weight pressed him down before the earl rushed to push himself up.

Hongjoong prayed his wig still looked acceptable. His curls lay in a disarray around his head and heaving chest.

"Don't think you won," Hongjoong growled at the earl. Seonghwa chuckled, just about to pull back and declare their fight a draw when something had him linger.

Nervously, Hongjoong gripped his hair and looked up at him. Seonghwa's hands, left and right of his head, were too present to ignore, but they weren't trapping him like last time. They merely held Seonghwa up as he hovered over Hongjoong and his dark hair fell into his forehead over his left eye.

Hongjoong gulped at the sudden tense silence between them. Seonghwa knew Hongjoong didn't want to shy away this time, and Hongjoong didn't know how Seonghwa knew; he only knew that his heart hammered in his chest and that he had no way to soothe it.

A moment later, Seonghwa reached for a stray strand of Hongjoong's hair that laid over his cheek and tucked it behind his ear.

"I think this dress suits you very well," Seonghwa whispered. The intimacy of his voice mismatched the fight moments prior.

"Thank you," Hongjoong muttered. His eyes flickered over Seonghwa's face to search for a lie or any reason to doubt. There was none.

He didn't know how it happened. They were both at fault, though Hongjoong would deny his involvement.

When Seonghwa dipped down to kiss him, Hongjoong tilted his chin to meet him.

Their kiss was no more but a gentle touch of their lips. Hongjoong was overwhelmed with the softness of Seonghwa's mouth on his already, and the earl was ever so discreet, as if unsure how far he could take this.

As if he hadn't expected Hongjoong to accept the kiss either.

A moment later, reality crashed into them, and they flinched away from each other. Hongjoong's face resembled a cherry when he turned his head to look at the backrest of the couch he rested on. Seonghwa hastily sat up to distance himself and looked around the room, as if searching for an excuse.

He found it in the form of a letter on the desk.

"Excuse me. I must report my discoveries about the Ripper to San," he said so fast that his words blurred into one. While Hongjoong sat up in a daze, Seonghwa already bolted out of the room.

With his heart galloping in his chest, Hongjoong waited until his door upstairs had slammed shut.

He hadn't apologised for the kiss.

Hongjoong pressed his fingers to his glowing cheeks.

What had just happened? What was that?

In a hurry, Hongjoong sprung to his feet as well. He frantically busied his hands with cleaning up and helping the others in the kitchens to distract himself.

His mind clung to the kiss like a vice. All day, he couldn't forget that soft touch of the presumptuous earl's lips on his.