"And I'm thinking, damn, if these walls could talk."

~H

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My left hand—the one holding my phone—is completely numb, but I could give less than a shit about that when you (YOU!) just asked me out on a date.

Your voice, smooth as dripping honey straight off the comb, lulls me further into the divine rapture of your Valhalla. Presented in front of the inevitable, you, my angel, spread your iridescent wings to display your majesty, and I cannot muster up the strength to fight it.

I will show you that I am deserving of you, Naomi. All you have to do is wait.

I check my phone for the time. It's about an hour until you get to The Rose Petal. How do I know this, you might ask?

Well, after some digging around, I found the account that's linked to your social media, including your text messages and email address. Then, using the information I gathered from before, (September 17th. See? I still remember.) I hack at your passcode until I finally gain access to your world, and most importantly, your schedules.

Pro tip: if you're going to have a passcode that even a toddler could figure out, at least try to have a few different ones for each platform. It'll only help you in the long run. Trust me.

Walking in front of the tea shop counter, I hurriedly say to Jimin, "I forgot something at home. I'll be right back."

"Hey, wait a minute! What about the custom..." His words fade in the distance as I run outside, and I put the pedal to the metal as best I can on my own two feet.

The trip is quick as I live pretty close to the shop, and I dash inside to have enough time to take a shower, pick an outfit, and give Yeontan some snuggles.

Oh, and check on my guest in the basement.

Our relationship has been rocky, the professor's and mine. However, once I introduced my chainsaw to him, (just had to scare him a little to shut him up. I wasn't really gonna use it, but you knew that already, right?) it wasn't long before he began screaming bloody murder. I simply told him to stop complaining and eat his dry cereal, but he didn't seem like he was in the mood to do anything but scream, so I let him.

For hours.

And hours.

And hours.

I'm just glad the basement is soundproof, or poor Yeontan wouldn't have gotten a wink of sleep with all the ruckus.

Thankfully, the professor's vocal cords gave out after a while, and his once thunderous voice was reduced to a croak. He seemed more willing to be cooperative after that, letting me do simple things like unchaining his arm to let him eat.

Although, during the first few days, (that stubborn son of a bitch) he refused food, as he proclaimed it could have been poisoned.

"If I wanted to kill you, don't you think I would've done it already?" I had asked.

"I don't know what you sick freaks are into. Maybe you get off on this shit, watching your victims die slowly," he had said back, the venom in his eyes so potent it almost cut.

Well, I wanted to reply, isn't it your whole job to know what sick freaks are into? But I bit my tongue; I knew he didn't really mean it.

And anyway, by the third day, he shut his mouth when he gave up his voluntary fast for a few pop tarts. Turns out the human need for sustenance wins out over instinct.

Maybe that'll be something interesting to add to his field notes.

After my shower, I slip on my mask, grab a water bottle and an omelet, then head down to the basement. The professor evidently hears me, because as soon as I get halfway down the stairs, he starts shuffling around.

I can't risk giving the professor a razor, but damn, he needs a shave. His 5 o'clock shadow is looking more like an 11 o'clock shadow, and his eyes are bloodshot from lack of sleep. The composure he once carried with relative ease is gone and replaced with a desperation that I can't look at for too long. I place the food in front of him, and he glances at me wearily as I begin to unchain one of his arms.

"Don't try anything," I say, and he doesn't, of course. I trust in his cowardice to guide his actions. I go on, "Now, I'm in a good mood, so don't ruin it."

With that, I stand in front of the mirror leaning on the wall opposite the professor to fix my outfit. Torn, black jeans and a long-sleeved shirt says that I'm not trying too hard, but that I'm also not a slob when it comes to my appearance.

I never cared about how I looked before you came along, Naomi. Isn't that something?

After looking at me impassively for a few seconds, the professor kicks feebly in my direction and yells, "Get me out of here, you fucking psycho!" I shoot him a dude, really? look as I roll up my sleeves. You like my arms, don't you?

"No matter how many times you throw a tantrum, it's not gonna help your situation," I say. He spits at the space next to him, then gives me a cocky grin.

"Do you even have a plan? How have you covered up the fact that one of the most popular professors at UT is just suddenly missing? Gone without a trace? The police are probably on your trail by now."

Ooh, that hotshot thinks he did something wise there, doesn't he? I face him, and with a playful smile, pull out his phone and keys.

"Why do you think I kept this?" I ask. His face turns white as a sheet.

It's all too easy to trick those who believe in a charming face and an obtuse act, and I rely (correctly, I might add) on their ignorance when they assume that, because all Asians look alike and our last names are the same to boot, we must be related.

The morning after I took the professor in, I unlocked his office as I pretended to loiter around the door for a bit, then posed as a student going in to ask him some questions. Going through his things wasn't too hard; his work computer was in the middle of his desk, the password to it buried in his third drawer under an extensive amount of manila folders. From there, I left the office with my bag feeling just a little heavier.

Evidently, Professor Kim had a bad case of pneumonia, and if people tried to contact him via any electronic means, it would bounce straight back to them. On the other hand, the excuse he told his wife about having to leave for the university last night was really about an urgent business trip he had to attend immediately.

She asked no questions. She learned not to a long time ago.

The professor presses himself against the wall, perhaps subconsciously. "What the hell do you want from me? Is it for money? Or my connections? I-I can give you anything you want. You just have to tell me-"

"I don't-" I say through gritted teeth, "-want, anything. I just need to keep you away from her." His face contorts into confusion as he tries to think.

My tongue prods the inside of my cheek. "Oh, so there's more than one? God, and you call me a sick freak."

"I don't know who the hell you're talking about! I'll stay away from whoever you want me to, just let me go!"

I rake my hands through my hair.

"Fuck, Naomi, this guy's making my head hurt," I mutter, then inhale, wishing my words could somehow reverse themselves with my breath.

A second goes by where neither of us says anything, then it dawns on him.

"Wait, did you just say Naomi? Naomi Yamamoto? This is all for that whore?" he asks with a scoff. I don't reply and head for the stairs instead. However, Professor Kim is a smart man; he knows when a button has been pushed, and he wastes no time in trying to exploit it.

"She's fucking worthless! You hear me? She isn't worth all of this trouble!"

With a growl, I turn back around and close the gap between us with a switchblade to hold against his throat. I can see the hairs rising on the nape of his neck. Crimson threatening to spill from glistening steel.

"Don't. Call. Her. That," I breathe. Then, seeing the plate of food, I pick it up. He doesn't deserve it. "You know what? Maybe you don't need this for today."

"Hey, wait a minute! Don't leave me here! DON'T YOU DARE FUCKING LEA-" I run upstairs and sigh in relief as I shut the door to the basement.

"Yeontan! Come here, boy! You hungry?" I call, smiling as I hear four clawed paws making their way to where I am. The pomeranian licks my hand while I put the omelet into his bowl.

Scratching him behind his ears, I say, "I'm sorry daddy can't stay long, but he has somewhere very special to be. I love you very much."

With a kiss on his furry head, I run into the garage, grab my keys, and mount my motorcycle as fast as humanly possible. I've been polishing this baby every night for this exact reason, and her engine needs a bit of revving. My car, about to fall apart at the hinges anyway, can wait until later.

Once I arrive, I have just enough time to appear busy restocking shelves. You come in only moments later, looking so messily professional in your black blazer and houndstooth pantsuit. Your cheeks are adorably flushed as if you had been in the sun for too long.

"Hey! Sorry I'm so late... You know how buses are here," you say with an apologetic smile. I put up a hand.

"No need to apologize. Besides, I was keeping myself busy," I respond, motioning to the tea packets in my hands, to which you giggle and flutter your eyelashes.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Jimin coming in my direction, and I move slightly between the shelves so that he can't see me.

Congratulations to Park Jimin for being the cockblocker of the century.

"Why don't we get out of here?" I offer with a smile. You bite your lip.

"Where to, then?"

I know just the place you'd like, somewhere you'd have the opportunity to take an insta-perfect selfie at. Such a vapid obsession, social media, but I won't judge.

"Mmm... Maybe we can get something to eat at Lucky Robot or something." Your eyes light up at my offer. God, I wish you'd stay like that forever.

"That sounds great! I wish I could go there more often. Their aesthetics are so cute," you say as we begin walking out the door.

Knew it.

I offer you a sympathetic smile. "Must be hard with you living so far away and everything."

You begin to nod along, then pause.

"Wait, how did you know that?"

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안녕 여러분! Drama drama...
How did you like this chapter?
Good? Bad? Let me know in
the comments below! I wonder
how Taehyung will handle everything...

QOTD: How is everyone doing in
quarantine?

I'm having a hard time, im gonna be
honest. I'm an extrovert so it's hard
to be inside and have almost no
social interaction. What are some of the
ways you guys are coping? Let me know.

Until next time, happy reading!

Love,
Haneul