With just a glance, Seojun could already see the cracks forming in his new "unbreakable friendship", thanks to Johan. The guy’s casual, almost effortless way of sabotaging things was starting to feel deliberate. With a quiet sigh, Seojun looked away.
Luciel's jet-black eyebrows gave a small twitch as she settled comfortably against Brown's shoulder. She tilted her chin up just slightly, her voice slipping into something measured and composed.
After Johan's pointed remark, Kira rubbed her sore wrist and turned her attention to Seojun. He took a moment to size her up right back. He'd heard the name Kira plenty of times, but this was the first time they'd actually met.
Look, Seojun wasn't going to stand here and pretend he was some kind of hero ready to throw himself into danger for a bunch of strangers. He had his own skin to worry about, and frankly, Johan’s plan to just brute-force the front entrance open was incredibly tempting.
The keycard reeked. So bad, in fact, that Seojun found himself hesitating to touch it even through his gloves. But he really didn't have much of a choice here. He gingerly pinched one corner between his thumb and forefinger, sliding it into the reader by the door to the third-floor stairwell.
The plan, if you could even call it that, was laughably simple.
Step one: Drag Pete into a room.
Step two: Slam the door shut.
Step three: Barricade with the sofa.
Pete moved like nothing human. He scuttled forward on all fours with a chilling, insectile grace that was extremely menacing! Somehow, this was worse than the earlier shambling—the awkward, top-heavy teetering on mismatched limbs.
Seojun let out a heavy sigh as the weight of their predicament settled over him.
Now what do I do?
Admittedly, Samantha probably wasn't in the best condition after going down to the basement. Though calling it "going down" was generous. She'd essentially plummeted straight down the elevator shaft.
The buried memories came flooding back all at once. Seojun's face went red-hot, the heat spreading up his neck until he was convinced he might actually catch fire. Even after Johan put him down, he couldn't bring himself to meet his eyes.
Johan’s voice was calm and upbeat. He met Seojun’s gaze with ease, idly tapping the monkey wrench against his shoulder like he had all the time in the world. That laid-back confidence—so effortless, so grounded—made something shift in Seojun’s chest.
Lilies.
The scent reached him just after the voice. Thick, cloying, and so overpoweringly sweet it made his head pound.
The mystery key felt like it was searing a hole through his pocket, but whatever door it opened would have to wait. Right now, survival meant one thing—staying the hell away from the Nurse.