the value of his life | lmh + hjs

Red. Bright, liquid warm blood filled the ground. Sneaking past the hefty darkened boots, and becoming a dirty art in an unbearable approach. Hands just as shaken and beat red from the unknown body of blood.

Ragged breathing echoed around the room. Monstrous feelings tackled together in an impassable connection. The room is white, colorless and miniature. It felt stifling to choke out a breath of air. The walls were rotating, the air became toxic to breathe when the scent of rot became conspicuous.

Illusion, it's all become.

"No, no, no, no," the voice trembled with terror. All he could think about is the now dead what's become a corpse of his most beloved. "Y-you're...you're not...you're not dead," the voice continued into a hallucination, dropping to the ground into the puddle of washed blood. Tremor conquered the frail human body.

One last word escaped him, and then everything went silent.

His eyes became a blurry vision as he looked down at the unalive piece of what's become nothing, and no one anymore.

Then, his vision cleared, and past the door of what became a building. Someone stood in the door with a terrified expression faltering onto his face.

What is he doing here?

"D-dad...? Dad? Dad! What's happened??"

The hot uncomfortable feeling woke Jisung up into a bath of pure sweat. His mouth became dry and he found himself unable to find his balanced breath. For a moment, he thought he was whaling a cry, but when he felt no tears roll down his cheek but only the discomfort of his blankets that now became a drenched thing to his flaming skin.

"What the hell was that dream?" He breathed out into the dim muted room.

Quickly, he pushed his blankets aside and got off his bed to walk towards his restroom. Where he then had no choice but to turn the handle so it can relieve out lukewarm water. Jisung got into the shower and began to scrub his body off from his earlier sweat, thinking twice about his dream that felt more like a nightmare of some sort of past he hadn't known existed at all.

But as much as he thought about it, he couldn't remember anything of it, even if it felt so real.

Once done and changed, he looked at the time and read 5:54. Almost time to get busy with Minho's schedule. He walked out his bedroom and saw Bangchan completely passed out on his couch, but he decided to ignore the older's presence and instead of thinking of making no sound as to wake the other up, Jisung got ready with enough comfort to make the only good thing in his life at the moment, his morning coffee.

♣

"What the hell are we doing here now?" Jisung said as he slammed his door shut and turned to look at Minho.

Minho only pulled his lips into a thin smile. "What did you expect from the next in line soon-to-be mafia boss? I can't just sit on my throne and wait for trouble to appear in my face so simply. I got work to do before I get that luxurious life," Minho exhaled out a breath at the end of his speech.

"Aren't you already living like that? Luxury and all," Jisung responded plainly, following Minho into the immense, decently modern house.

"You think so? Should we share it then~?" Minho said through a wide grin that was clearly because of what Jisung now knew as, drugs.

All Jisung could do in return upon watching the spark of joy in Minho's eyes and the teasing smile set on his lips was scoff out bitterly and look away from him.