The temperature was dropping and it was getting really windy, but Heeseung didn't stop sweating, terrified of what was held to his back. But Jake was just as messed up as Heeseung. He couldn't think of a way to sort this out without pulling the trigger to the gun he has been holding to Heeseung.
The gun didn't touch him, the fabric of Heeseung's hoodie brushing against the nozzle. Heeseung could definitely tell, if not feel, that it was a gun. And that would be Jake's nightmare.
Jake needed to calm down, yet it felt like the hardest thing to accomplish right now. He needed to make Heeseung feel normal. His heartbeat must be over 90 right now. Poor boy. But Jake needed to make Heeseung believe that this was fake. Yes. He could make it seem fake.
He needed to act.
He needed to portray this like a trick. A friendly one.
Heeseung shouldn't be suspicious. Or he's done.
That's what he was gonna do. Act. Act as if nothing happened. Act as if it was a mere friendly prank. Yes, that's what he was gonna do.
He pulled the gun back and put it into his pants, replacing it with two of his fingers. He let out a silent, shaky breath. He could hear Heeseung panting, then slowing down, then panting again. He was scared. Good, finally a sign of someone who's anxious without a reason to be, and he could only feel nervous because he was the culprit. Oh shit, Jake. No.
He was scared, he must have been. He's alone in a dark, unknown place with a lesser crowd with a practical stranger who's probably holding a gun to him, trying to kill him. That's why he's nervous. It's excessively normal.
He closed his eyes for a moment, taking a break from his mind trying to justify and unjustify everything. All he should be doing now is making an act out of it.
Heeseung's tempo didn't change. Fast, slow, fast. Perfect. He was anxious, he would believe a lot more because he's stressed. He wouldn't make good use of his mind in this condition and that was to Jake's advantage.
Jake pushed his fingers pointed into Heeseung's back, his index and middle fingers, further into the fabric, now touching his back across the cloth. He pushed his fingers in a jolt, almost wasting no time. Jake prayed for this to work.
Heeseung let out a shriek which was still caught up in the back of his throat, and it never came out fully. What Heeseung waited for was the bullet to pierce him, but instead, there was no bullet. He waited, to make sure of the fact that he wasn't dead, and Jake waited for his reaction.
Jake removed his hand from the other's back and placed both his hands on Heeseing's shoulders. Heeseung twitched under the palm of his hands.
"Did I scare you, Heeseung?"
Heeseung felt butterflies at the mention of his name. But at the same time, Jake's voice sounded aloof and distant, and petrifying. He was stone stiff under his touch, which felt cold and unsafe.
"Y-yeah..." Heeseung's voice trailed off somewhere inside his stomach.
Jake's hands softly squeezed the shoulders underneath them, as if it was an underlying warning. The next time would be the last. And his hands left the spot letting the cold air hit, but somehow it didn't feel cold, because Jake's hands were colder. His aura was different. Cool and dark.
Jake laughed. His laugh echoed inside Heeseung, in a bad way. Heeseung gulped, wishing it would take the anxiety with it. But it didn't.
Jake moved away from the swing and in front of Heeseung. He smiled as if it was an act. It was, according to Jake, because that's what he wanted Heeseung to think of it. But, Heeseung was stiff. He didn't want to use his mind, run his thoughts in chains. Because it is scary what the mind tells you, even when you don't want to believe it.
Jake smiled at Heeseung and his mouth moved and he pointed two of his fingers at him, loading a gun, and firing it, playfully enough. 'Sorry'. Heeseung made out from the movement of his mouth. Heeseung didn't hear it. He couldn't. His ears were ringing and his eyes were fixed at Jake's face, veiled with the dark.
The next thing was Jake pulling him by the arm, getting him off the swing and him almost stumbling from stiffness, and they were on the road, walking back to the campus. Heeseung walked and walked. But he didn't know where he was going, he had lost control. He was disturbed. He wanted to sink in a warm bath but instead, he was hit with cold air on his face.
He replayed everything. He didn't want to, but his mind did.
Jake offering to assist him on the swing. The metal creaking. Or, a gun cocking. The swing stopping abruptly. The solid something against his back, which could be a gun. Jake threatening him. Silence. A number. Jake reciting a number. What was it?
2...0..2..No. two zeroes.
2002...11..Another one? And a five.
200211...1...5...And there were letters. E or P? And an N.
Narrows down to either of the two. 20021115PN or 20021115EN.
Heeseung formulated every possibility, coming up with two probable sequences. He didn't know why he did it. But it felt crucial. Yet, it didn't ease the stiffness.
He felt the gun.
Cocked and positioned right there, at his back.
No. No. He should not think about a gun. No. But he couldn't stop imagining how dead he would look if there was a bullet.
20021115EN.
He passed the convenience store with Jake asking him about having late night snacks. But his ears were ringing, still.
20021115PN. Maybe it was an M? No, it was clearly an N.
None of them spoke while entering the campus, the huge black gate closing behind them. The silver moonlight welcomed them, falling down and lightening their faces. And Heeseung couldn't take his eyes off Jake. He was beautiful. And yet, it didn't relieve the stiffness. He kept walking.
2002115EN. EN. EN. EN. It must be EN. But it could be a B? No, not a B, but a P....
The hostel was lit up, even though it was way past one o'clock in the morning. But it didn't lighten Heeseung's anxiety and he walked up the stairs with that gun still held at his back. No! No, there wasn't a gun! But a bullet, ready to pierce through his back.
He prayed his mind would stop playing tricks. Jake unlocked the door and stepped inside, Heeseung followed, closing the door behind him. He was going to be in the same room as Jake, and as happy as he was a few hours ago, it was unusually unsettling.
20021115PN.
He took his notebook out while Jake strolled to the balcony. He flipped through the pages full of small sequences of code from programming class, looking for empty spaces between the lines. When he found some, he grabbed a red pen and dislodged the pen-cap with his shaky hands. He had never used red ink, so the code would be quite visible.
As risky as it seemed, he felt a force driving him to jot down the numbers and letters before they left his mind or...before the bullet pierced him. No, no! Stop thinking about the bullet!
The red ink glided on the paper, rolling off the ball-point tip, writing the numbers down in perfect sequence. 2,0,0,2,1,1,1 and 5. Then came the letters. E and N.
He repeated the numbers again, in between another set of lines, 20021115. And, a P and an E. In red ink, looking like blood on the paper, in between the blues and blacks. Popping out so clearly that anyone would notice.
But Heeseung wrote them in a rush, shaking and hesitating. And when he was done, the pen fell free from his hands and he slammed the cover of the notebook closed with all his strength.
What was he going to do with them? He didn't know. But it felt necessary to note them down, just in case he needed them. But he wouldn't need them.
He opened the pages to where he wrote, checking if they had disappeared. No, they were right there, sitting in the popping red blood-like ink, staring back at Heeseung. Two codes.
20021115EN
20021115PN.
⇿
Update! (I took long- PLS DON'T KILL ME T~T)
Hehe...I did tell y'all to remeber the number, didn't I? ¬‿¬
Happy reading, my Heejake nation!