But his shoulder twitched like it wanted to lean.
The rest of the way, he was quiet.
The sky above them rumbled low. Lightning far off, flickering like a warning of rain that never came.
??????
Chapter 28 – Things With Teeth
The air was thicker now. Not quite summer, but close enough that it flirted with discomfort—moisture sticking to windowsills, heat pooling under light switches, the breath of the city like a sleeping animal pressed against the glass.
Seungho’s penthouse carried it all quietly. The breeze from the open windows barely stirred the curtains. Somewhere in the distance, traffic whispered its lullaby.
Haneul was in the kitchen, barefoot, shirt and boxers hanging off his lean frame like sin wrapped in sleepiness. He stood at the stove with a pan of scallion pancakes, brow furrowed, flipping with reverence and sarcasm.
Across the apartment, the light under Seungho’s office door glowed.
He wasn’t working.
Not really.
He hadn’t turned a page in ten minutes. He was listening. Pretending not to. Letting Haneul’s voice drift in when he started ranting about color theory or supply prices or some professor who “draws like a raccoon with arthritis but still gave me a B.”
Seungho hadn’t spoken much lately, he never did.
But he knew every word mattered.
??????
The envelope arrived on a Tuesday.
No return address. No postage mark.
Just… placed.
Inside: one of the old bracelets. The kind Minseok used to give him after fights. Cheap braided leather, twisted now, broken, frayed. Slightly charred. Burned like it had been held over a flame until it curled inward like a scream.
Wrapped in a page torn from a book. One Haneul had lent Minseok once. A poetry collection he couldn’t find in stores anymore.
No note.
No signature.
A threat shaped like memory.
Haneul didn’t tell Seungho.
He tucked it into the back of his sketchbook. Between pages he hadn’t dared to draw on yet. And didn’t touch it again.
??????
Jaewan leaned in the meeting room doorway the following Tuesday, arms crossed, blazer slung over one shoulder. “The Jangs have been too quiet.”
Seungho didn’t look up from his tablet. “They’re regrouping.”
“No, they’re retreating. That PR consultant disappeared last week. Their statements dried up. We’re in the eye.”
Seungho nodded once. “Let them wait.”
