Hongjoong's fingers flicked the folded handkerchief from his suit pocket.

"Here. Let's sit, so you may calm," he suggested, softening his voice to match the misery of the bereaved. Somehow, acting wasn't so difficult when this situation was so heart-wrenching. 

Touched, Park accepted the white cloth. He held it with long fingers to wipe his tears. Hongjoong's heart galloped faster when the beautiful man sunk onto a bench by his side and the initials on his handkerchief touched that alabaster skin. Soon, he dabbed away all those tears and his makeup shone in its complimentary glory once more.

The rain evaded them for now. Even under the bleak light, everything Hongjoong saw of Park was beautiful. The slender lines of his body, the lasting beauty in his age, and the expressive eyes and lips.

Perhaps it was their difference in social standing, but other people out on the street weren't this stunning. No dames and no jaspers. 

How unfortunate that such a beautiful person was locked up at home serving some old mashers. No matter their money, they couldn't satisfy the enticing red of those lips.

Or perhaps they could? Park's tears seemed genuine, so he might just have a soft heart for his husbands, no matter their age.

"Thank you so much, Mister Kim." That velvety voice spoke again and Park exhaled. Dared a faint smile. Though he was dulled in his shine under the burden of his black funeral garbs, he extended his kindness. 

When he offered the handkerchief back, Hongjoong shook his head.

"Keep it. Who knows when more tears will fall?"

This grin was more genuine. Park peered from below his hat, liking this personality on the undercover gumshoe.

"You are kind. How did we never have the pleasure of meeting?" He wondered, and Hongjoong shyly glanced away. This was the tough part, hiding his own identity and intentions. But again, his fumbling could be excused as a lack of experience in the field.

"I am rather insignificant in my firm, and I only serve as a stand-in today. Next time, Mister Jeong will greet you again in person."

Since Park didn't point out a lack of a Mister Jeong in his life, he either knew someone of that name, or he didn't care for the work relations of his late husband. Notable, perhaps?

"I am glad they sent you to me today," Park offered and his smile made Hongjoong's heart skip another beat. It was alluring, yet not inappropriately seductive in their setting. Everything that happened was in Hongjoong's mind.

"You have been a ray of light on this bleak day, so I must thank you. Perhaps we may drink some tea together once the sorrow lifted? I would like to thank you for this." He waved the handkerchief and Hongjoong was ready to burst out of his skin and blurt out how pretty he found Park. His thoughts were a mess, but he needed to remember why he was here. Not to abuse someone's grief for his gain, but to get a feeling for Park's behaviour.

"That would be lovely," Hongjoong smiled, knowing it would be more suspicious to decline. Yunho would figure that part out for him; if it was anything more than a polite truism.

Park lifted his forlorn eyes to the church. 

"I must attend to the guests and share their grief now, but I am delighted to have met you, Mister Kim. Until next time," he smiled. Hongjoong stood to kiss his hand once more and his body trembled under that gaze from watchful eyes. It seemed to bore right through him, digging around for information in the same way he did.

Hongjoong knew it was the nerves, so he grinned back.

"Of course. I wish you a good recovery."

Park slowly ambled off between the graves, looking lonely swaddled in his furs. Elegant feet tapped as if lost without someone by his side, and Hongjoong was startled at the inexplicable yearning in his chest to run after him and offer him his arm until he was back inside the warmth of a room.

He held back. He needed to focus, tempting as the lonely widow was.

Today, he gained no intel on these accidents, but he learned Park properly mourned his deceased husband. And that he was tempting like a minx.

On his way home, Hongjoong made notes of their conversation and everything he remarked in Park's mannerisms. The tears, his heartfelt speech and his strength to have a polite conversation despite his anguish. Back in his bedsit, he caressed thoughtful fingers over the empty pocket of his suit jacket. Was this all there was to the Cursed Widow? Or did he hide a sinister secret behind the veils? The detective left his thoughts to stew while he took a shower and huddled over his desk under the small light after night fell. 

The next step would be to get close enough to question Park about his past and those other deceased husbands. Hongjoong should be patient and wait for Park to invite him for some tea. Otherwise, he would reach out after a few weeks. He had to find out more about the health conditions of these four husbands, and about the funds that went to Park after each of their tragic ends. 

Yunho already organised a meeting with the cutter responsible for their final preparation, so Hongjoong could have a look at the medical records first and then figure out how the results aligned with Park's information.

So far, so good. Hongjoong did well on his first job alone and he was proud of the confidence in his scribbles.

Tired after his long day, Hongjoong soon crawled into his bed. The smiles of red lips haunted him as his lips still tingled with the feeling of warm skin concealed by a layer of lace.

Go to chapter 6