Porcelain { Six }
Title: Porcelain
Rating: NC-17/R
Pairing: SeKai + SuChen
Summary: The year is 1913. Kim Jongin and Kim Jongdae are footmen for Foxcombe House, owned by the Wu family who migrated to England following the success of Kristopher Wu's business in both Shanghai and London. He and his heiress wife, Jessica, now own the estate much to the distaste of the locals. A certain runaway from Seoul appears on the doorstep and suddenly the Kim brothers' lives are turned inside-out, destined to end in ruin.
Inspired by the era of Downton Abbey and a certain old manor in Sussex, England, with an eerie story to tell.
{ PROLOGUE } { ONE } { TWO } { THREE } { FOUR } { FIVE }
Chapter Six
“Help! HELP!”
The flames cracked and whipped and charred every lick of surface under their claws. Sehun could hear the relentless thrumming of heat on his ears and the pounding drum of a dark fist against the door. Jongin’s fist. The terrified words cried out from Jongin’s lips, sweat beads ran from Jongin’s temples, panic flared in Jongin’s veins - but it was Sehun looking through his eyes and witnessing his smouldering demise.
“HELP! SOMEBODY HELP! PLEASE!”
His desperate pleas were unheard, his efforts to pull frantically on the doorknob were failing and, as the embers clung to the back of his throat, everything began to get foggy and disorientating. Jongin’s muscles fell limp. His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. His knees gave way.
And the burning pain started at his ankles…
When Sehun awoke in the dead of night covered in cold-sweats and wrapped up so tightly in his sheet it cut at his skin, he wasn’t surprised. The dreams hadn’t changed much. It was practically routine. But what had changed, and what made his stomach sink into the floor, was the realisation that he was alone. There was no Jongin to clench his wrists and breath soothing words onto his lips. There was no Jongin much anymore and, at night, the cold sting of loneliness was hard to bare.
But it was for the best.
The sounds had made it worse, however. Now he could hear Jongin’s final words echoing in his head as he tried to sleep, like a morbid lullaby. Lu Han’s face loomed behind his eyes forebodingly and haunted the dark space when he closed them. He was sure the heir had something to do with the mysterious fire - he was sure of it - but he had no way of knowing for certain.
If I leave, will you follow? Can I tempt you away from this place to save him?
Sehun had failed to save one innocent soul already and it eroded his insides with guilt. He wasn’t about to let it happen for a second time, not again. Not to Jongin.
Not to the boy he loved.
♦♦♦
It was getting a lot warmer now; much warmer than the previous months. Thick clouds billowed outside the window and insulated the ground like a furnace with the air hot and suffocating. Occasionally thunder would ring out among the heavens and satisfy the parched grass with heavy showers to relish until it dried and yellowed once again. On this day, there was a break in the gloom as sunshine escaped through the gaps and filtered onto Jessica’s delicate skin through the glass as she sat at her vanity desk, powdering her cheeks. Behind her stood Soonkyu, her precious lady’s maid, twirling loose curls into a bun with artistic fingers and sticking her tongue between her teeth in concentration. A bored Soojung huffed from the bed.
“Sister, let’s go somewhere.”
Jessica rolled her eyes. “Where would we go exactly?”
“Anywhere. Anywhere but here. It’s so boring, I don’t know how you cope.”
“It was your decision to travel to this God-forsaken country,” she puffed through tight lips as she dabbed a light rouge onto her skin. “I’m not your personal entertainer.”
Soojung swung her legs off of the bed and wandered over to the window, peering around the curtains.
“Let’s take the car for a spin. It’s a nice day for a change, we should be making the most of it.”
Jessica paused, letting her hand hover in the air for a few moments until, “Perhaps another day.”
A sharp exhale left Soojung’s throat. “It’ll be raining another day…” she mumbled, heading back over to slump on the bed again. “I’ve travelled across oceans and seen real skyscrapers and I end up here…” She patted nonchalantly at the tassels hanging over the headboard with an exaggerated pout of annoyance like a child.
When Soonkyu had finished her design, she quickly flattened the flyaway hairs and stepped back. “There we go, my lady. I thought a simple but delicate design would best suit the occasion. I hope it’s to your taste.”
Jessica pivoted her head in front of the mirror. Sunbeams danced on her dark tresses and gave off a whimsical glow, accentuated by her round, doll-like face. She nodded with approval.
“It’s beautiful, thank you. As long as you can replicate it to-”
A hand flew to her lips. A sudden wave of nausea had swept to her stomach and made her head dizzy. Jessica cradled her forehead in her palm and closed her eyes as Soonkyu grabbed her shoulders.
“Are you okay, my lady?”
“I…I think so…”
But as soon as she said the words, she felt the blood rush from her cheeks and the room blurred and started moving despite her eyes staring in one direction. Soojung was at her side, now, and placing the back of her hand against her head.
“Soonkyu, fetch my sister a wet cloth. She’s awfully hot.”
The maid nodded and briskly left. Soojung navigated herself in front of Jessica’s chair and knelt down, staring into her face. By now the dizziness was beginning to fade and Jessica could make out her younger sister’s features much clearer. They looked worried.
Soonkyu returned with a soaked flannel and glass of water which Jessica gratefully took into her shaking fingers. Soojung dabbed the coolness against her face and neck and it helped soothe the nausea away. After a few moments, she signalled for Soonkyu to leave and the two Jung sisters were left alone.
“Are you sure you’re alright? Your skin is as pale as snow…”
Jessica swallowed and bobbed her chin. “I’m perfectly well, really. It was just a flush of sickness. I’ll be fine.”
She batted her away and resumed staring at her reflection. Indeed, the hair looked more than suitable; almost Grecian in style but with a modern twist. It was elegant and perfect for a dinner party. The colour was starting to return to her skin now.
“I do hope you’ll be healthy enough for the feast later. Remember what Mr Lu said last night,” Soojung said with a mischievous grin.
“There’s going to be an announcement, yes. I remember. As if we don’t already know what that will be.”
Soojung picked up various perfume bottles to inspect them out of mild interest. “You sound…disapproving. Father wasn’t disapproving.”
“Father sees only the worth of someone through their bank account. Mr Lu possesses enough riches to buy half of the continent - of course he wasn’t going to be disapproving.” Jessica pulled at the knots and pins behind her head and watched as her long locks cascaded back over her shoulders. No doubt Soonkyu would be able to copy her original design perfectly when it was time to get ready.
“But you are? Why so?” asked the younger, now walking about the room and staring at the various objects dotted around. A particular porcelain figurine on the mantelpiece caught her eye and she picked it up curiously, turning it in her palm.
“It’s not my place to judge the character of someone before getting to know them properly. I’m sure Mr Lu is a perfectly reasonable match if-”
“Sooyeon, please.” Soojung now spoke with a gentler tone and the sound of her Korean name brought a wave of nostalgia to Jessica’s ears. “Since when have you hidden behind politeness? You used to find that sort of thing so tiresome. Be honest with me, sister. What do you really think?”
Something had held her back from unleashing the words on her tongue, which was very out of character. But as naturally blunt as her personality may have been, Jessica was apprehensive to speak ill of somebody so powerful and influential, especially if they were about to become a part of the family.
She proceeded with caution, picking underneath her long fingernails. “There’s something about him, something…not quite right. He irks me.” And she wasn’t lying.
Soojung pursed her lips and replaced the figure on the shelf. “I see. Well, I can assure you that he is excellent company and terrific fun. You should get to know him a bit more instead of crouching behind all this ridiculous fine china you have lying around. I have big plans for my future, sister. Very big plans.”
Jessica let a hand fall to stroke her lower belly, massaging lightly with her fingertips.
Soojung wasn’t the only one.
♦♦♦
He wasn’t entirely sure what possessed him to do it, but there was nothing around to stop him.
Jongdae stepped out of his room, straightening his waistcoat, when Joonmyun emerged from his own. The butler quickly scampered down the corridor and disappeared down the winding staircase without even looking up. Jongdae made to turn in the opposite direction but something froze his feet in place. Curiosity had reared its ugly head with a sprinkle of paranoia.
Before he could reason with himself, Jongdae headed for Joonmyun’s door and turned the handle.
It wasn’t locked.
He shot a final look down the hallway to check the coast was clear before slipping inside as quietly as his shoes would allow.
Everything was neat and orderly, just as Joonmyun always left it. The bed was perfectly made. His books stood in alphabetical order by the author’s surname along the shelves of his bookcase. Every surface was meticulously dusted. There wasn’t a single thing out of place.
Except the top drawer of his desk.
The opening was no thicker than a hairline, but enough to catch his attention. It must’ve been shut in a hurry. Jongdae knew what was inside and his fingers tingled, longing to feel its contents in his grasp. A couple of strides was all it took to position himself directly in front of it and let his fingertips trail the drawer handle teasingly. All of his prayers could be answered, all his agonising worries put to rest…if he could only bring himself to read it.
The drawer creaked open at his touch. Inside, the leather-bound diary that he’d watched Joonmyun spill his inner-most thoughts and feelings into for years loomed back at him. It was a small thing compared to the level of intimidation it radiated into the air. For so many nights, Jongdae had laid awake with unrelenting insomnia; haunted by wine-soaked memories and the painful regret that followed. He just wanted answers. He just wanted the truth. He deserved it, after everything - or so he’d convinced himself.
He heard muffled sounds from somewhere in the building and, in panic, quickly grabbed the diary and slipped it into his inside jacket pocket with slight difficulty. After a quick sweep of the room to make sure he hadn’t moved anything else, Jongdae left as slick and quiet as a fox and disappeared back to his own room where he leant back against the door, gasping harsh breaths. He could feel the square outline of the diary pressing onto his chest through his clothes and it made his heart want to burst through of his ribs from the apprehension.
What would he read? Was he truly ready for it? Could he bare the worst?
Was he even mentioned at all?
He didn’t have time to ponder for too long. Lord Wu would be waiting for him in his quarters before long. Until a time when he was free, Jongdae slid the book under his mattress to join the bundle of letters tied with string and left with a rather queasy stomach.
♦♦♦
Mr Lu wanted roast pork so roast pork was what Mr Lu got for his mysterious feast. The staff had known nothing of it until the day before when the cook was handed a particularly extravagant shopping list with pork and fresh sea bass requested as the main dishes. Jongin had been assigned the quest of buying the sea bass from the market in Chichester which took a bus ride through sporadic summer rains to get to. The town was pulsing from the crowd and the smell of salted fish wafted between the stalls where tradesmen cried out for people to buy their wares. People stared, as they always did, but Jongin kept his chin deep in his chest and tried to keep his English accent as crisp as possible. Hands now laden with bags of seafood and the odd seasoning missing from Foxcombe’s larder, Jongin trudged back to wait at the bus stop. His spirits were low. Sehun would have loved Chichester.
He had a plan, of course. Despite the silence and awkwardness since Jongin left Sehun’s bedroom that night, he’d given the younger the space to, hopefully, clear his head. In time, he knew, Sehun would come back to him and, once Mr Lu left their lives, everything would go back to normal. There was no reason for Sehun to stay mad at him forever. It was only a matter of time.
That didn’t stop the bed feeling cold at night and the twinge of sorrow in his abdomen whenever the boy walked past and didn’t say a word.
Back at the House, everything was in a flurry. Jongin had returned in time for the sea bass to be cooked while the pork sizzled happily and various pots of vegetables bubbled on the stove and the cook’s hair was up on end from all the stress. Jongdae was helping Yi Xing peel potatoes at the table with his sleeves rolled up and a bucket between his legs to catch the skins. Through the doorway, he could see Joonmyun carrying bottles of wine from the wine cellar with a flustered Mrs Kwon squawking in his ear. Jongin’s heart stopped when Sehun entered the steamy kitchen to grab some glasses with gloved hands. He didn’t raise his gaze before leaving.
A tub of spuds with a knife on top was suddenly shoved into Jongin’s arms.
“Make yourself useful!” the cook snapped.
He huffed and sat on a stool next to Jongdae. Preparing food was not his idea of fun but his feet hurt from walking around town and he was grateful for the sit-down.
“How many are even eating tonight?” he asked. The air was hot and wet from all the cooking and Jongin could already feel his palms getting clammy.
“Mr Lu has invited some associates from Portsmouth to join them, I’ve heard. Shipping merchants by the sounds of it. At least one of them is good friends with His Lordship’s father.”
“Still, doesn’t this seem a little much? What’s this so-called ‘announcement’ about?”
Jongdae shrugged, seemingly distracted. “If Mr Lu wants a feast, he gets a feast. I guess we’ll find out. Now shut up and get peeling!”
♦♦♦
The potatoes took forever and Jongdae could feel his hands shaking the entire time. More than once, he managed to slice his thumb on the knife and dot his skin with dried red. He was far too distracted to feel the pain, however. He could barely concentrate on anything, not when he knew what lay waiting for him under his bed. Then there was the fear that Joonmyun would find his diary missing before he returned it. Would the butler suspect him? Would he go as far as to search his room to find it again?
These thoughts plagued him as he met with Lord Wu in his quarters to help him get ready for the night’s dinner. Every word that left his employer’s mouth sounded muffled to his ears, as though his head was submerged underwater. He didn’t care much for the rival porcelain companies moving to London from mainland Europe or the increase in production costs, which were the topics of discussion. Jongdae nodded and smiled and picked out Lord Wu’s dress shirt quickly in the hope that the process could finish as fast as possible while Jack happily wagged his tail on the bed. When the bell finally sounded from downstairs, Jongdae breathed a sigh of relief and rushed back to his room.
Joonmyun was no-where to be seen. He was more than likely in the entrance hall, greeting the guests. The diary hadn’t moved from its spot. He sat on the bed, cradling it in his palms, and stared at the cover long and hard. Now that he was here, now that he possessed the knowledge he sought, resting on his fingers, he could barely muster the courage to open it.
Maybe my name isn’t in here. Maybe he didn’t write about me at all. Maybe I really do mean that little to him.
In the fool’s hope that he could be wrong, Jongdae sucked in a breath and quickly flicked the pages until he reached mid-June and the right day. He couldn’t bring himself to read all of it and, instead, let his eyes wander over the page, picking out random snippets and scanning for his own name.
He found it.
“After what happened tonight with Jongdae, I feel disgusted with myself.”
Disgusted.
“I can’t bring myself to look at him, not after what we’d done. I don’t think I could look at him again - not now, not ever.”
“It wasn’t the wine’s fault, but my own.”
“I pray to God that he will grant me the power to turn back time, to erase the night from existence - even from my own memory.”
“I can’t handle this regret.”
Jongdae slammed the book shut. Salty tears stung in the corner of his vision. His chest felt constricted with despair and a fiery anger kindled inside. It took all the strength he had not to sear every page of the diary into pieces and scatter them on the ground. He knew it wouldn’t achieve anything. Destroying the diary wouldn’t satisfy his needs. It wasn’t enough.
Swiftly, while he was still whole enough to do so, Jongdae crept back into Joonmyun’s empty room and returned it to the drawer. It took a little extra nudging to shut it completely but he managed it and slunk out again without being noticed. Back in his bedroom, he walked over to the window and stared out onto the expansive grounds.
Why am I even still here?
Jongin, his rock, had Sehun to occupy his interests. His heart’s infatuation for the past two years, his true love, had not a single ounce of desire for him in return. He was trapped on a grassy wasteland and he’d never felt more alone.
His pile of letters to Joonmyun sat on the bed. The wad had become surprisingly thick over the years. It had started out as harmless therapy to help him collect his thoughts but evolved into something much deeper, much more meaningful. He’s always pictured Joonmyun’s beaming smile when he could finally hand them over…but Jongdae couldn’t see it anymore and the emptiness hurt.
A fist scrunched at his side. Joonmyun had ruined everything for him.
And he was going to pay.
♦♦♦
The guests arrived and Jongin took the elder’s coat. He was a stout man with small eyes and was introduced to the staff as Mr Byun. His company built cargo ships and his time in Portsmouth was only a fleeting visit before heading west to America. Accompanying him was his business associate and eldest son, a fresh-faced shipping protégée by the name of Byun Baekhyun who was barely in his twenties. Kris greeted Mr Byun with enthusiasm as though they’d known each other for years and, after a couple of drinks in the drawing room by the fire, they made their way into the dining room for dinner.
Once the copious plates of food were brought in, Jongin took his newly-appointed place behind Lord Wu while Sehun stood behind Lady Wu’s chair, ready to assist when needed. Jongin almost missed seeing Jongdae’s face around so often. Now that he was Kris’ personal valet, he didn’t need to help with the serving of meals anymore. It was a shame; Jongin had once used Jongdae’s presence as a comfort blanket that he was now too old for. Mr Lu kept shooting Sehun playful glances from his seat and it grated on Jongin’s patience severely.
As the party dug into the feast, Kris’ brows met together at the sight in front of him.
“It almost feels a little…ostentatious for such a small gathering.”
“Nonsense!” cried Lu Han, happily piling the potatoes onto his plate. “The occasion demands a little luxury, trust me.”
Mr Byun nodded merrily in agreement. Baekhyun smiled shyly next to him, unsure of how much pork to push his luck with and looking a little lost. An heir to a fortune, just like Mr Lu, thought Jongin as his stomach twisted with jealousy. They had it so easy. Money was shoved into their palms from birth and opportunities fell into their laps without much effort while Jongin worked 14 hours a day, sometimes longer, just to sleep on a lumpy mattress in the basement.
But that was the harsh truth of reality.
Once the party had settled with plates laden with delicacies, Mr Lu raised his glass. “Cheers, everyone!” The table followed suit.
Jessica took longer than the others to drink her share and Lu Han couldn’t help but notice.
“Lady Wu, will you not have another glass of wine? An empty cup is a catastrophe!”
Kris reached across to place his hand on top of hers. “I think water would be preferable, perhaps. My wife has been feeling a little delicate recently.”
“All the more reason to drink, if you ask me,” Lu Han chortled and the other men laughed with him.
Jessica flashed Kris a grateful smile as she ate, taking only small bites and barely finishing her plate but nobody said another word on the matter. More and more the rest of the party members ate and drank and soon rich trifles and fruit pies were brought out from down below, sprinkled with fine sugar that glistened. By this point, Soojung was swinging her wine glass between her fingers with a slightly glazed look to match her giggles as she swooned over Mr Lu sat opposite, hanging onto every word he spoke and laughing accordingly. Jongin had tried to catch Sehun’s eye during the entire meal but the boy refused to look over. He stared straight ahead the entire time and barely moved at all unless he was setting down plates or pouring drinks. His back was perfectly rigid with hands clasped at the base of his spine with perfectly flattened hair. He looked like an elegant statue carved from marble.
Eventually the table had been licked clean and Lu Han rose from his seat.
“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for dining with me this evening; it’s been a pleasure. If this had been our homeland, it would’ve been an even bigger affair but, nonetheless, the company has been glorious.” He nodded in the direction of Mr Byun who mirrored his appreciation. “The reason I have brought you together, however, is still something of a mystery, I realise.” He clapped his palms together. “With the success of my family’s business now in my hands, I’ve been thinking very seriously about my future and the future of my own possible family. With that, I have some very exciting news.”
Silence. He grinned with satisfaction.
“Myself and Soojung are to be married.”
The table gasped. Soojung beamed, cheeks tinged pink from both happiness and too much wine. Mr Byun clapped with approval. Jessica forced a smile. Kris seemed genuinely oblivious for a moment until he, too, clapped his hands and brought Lu Han into a congratulatory embrace. Meanwhile , Jongin’s eyes had flown to Sehun’s face which was ghostly pale and even a little green. His arms looked as though they were shaking. Jongin wanted nothing more than to cross the room and reassure him from whatever horrors were flying around his head, but he knew he couldn’t. He stood, helpless, watching as Sehun broke down a little inside while the rest of the room was completely oblivious.
“Are you ready to accept me as your brother-in-law?” asked Lu Han, slapping Kris’ upper arm as he pulled away.
“Of course. It will be an honour.”
“I meant what I said before, Kristopher. I have big plans for us, very big indeed. Are you up for the adventure?”
Kris looked uneasy for a fleeting moment. “Perhaps we’ll discuss that more another time.”
“Certainly. I propose a toast!” He lifted his glass once again. “To my darling fiancé and our beautiful life together!”
The room chorused in unison.
But he wasn’t looking at Soojung.
♦♦♦
Jongdae never believed himself capable of the sinister things that crept to the back of his mind, but it was shocking to see what dejection and resentment could achieve with idle hands.
Tucked into the corner of the servant’s quarters was the medicine cabinet, although it resembled a walk-in closet with walls of shelves decorated with medical supplies for the family and staff. He found what he was looking for in the far corner of the top shelf. It took a little clamouring and the help of a small stool to reach it hidden in the shadows; a dusty, brown bottle.
He didn’t possess much physical strength and he was fully aware of this. No doubt Joonmyun would retaliate, and win more than likely, if given the opportunity to - but he wasn’t about to let that happen. He couldn’t take having his heart played with like a toy and thrown away out of boredom and disappointment. There were consequences to consider: you break it, you pay the price.
His fury had dulled his senses. He could hear only the sound of his blood pumping furiously with adrenaline. It spurred his limbs to pounce at the right moment.
Joonmyun struggled. His limbs lashed out at sharp angles and hands reached up to claw at Jongdae’s arms and face in terror. They didn’t achieve much. Jongdae only pressed the cloth harder against his lips, willing the fumes to ensnare his consciousness. It took a while, much longer than he expected, but Joonmyun’s form eventually fell limp and heavy, a dead weight, in his grasp. He tucked his arms under the butler’s shoulders to heave him across the floor and his feet dragged awkwardly with one catching on the doorframe as he went. Panting and huffing with sweat seeping at his temples, Jongdae opened his bedroom door with a nudge of his hip and pulled Joonmyun’s unconscious body inside…
♦♦♦
The engagement had been the final straw.
How he’d managed to keep himself standing throughout the entire meal, Sehun didn’t know. It was a miracle his legs hadn’t given way and sent him crumbling to the floor. Lu Han had caught his eyes at every opportunity, even going as far as lightly stroking his wrist when he served the heir his meal. Nobody had noticed - he was sly like that. It was a necessary characteristic to possess as a man who wooed his father’s help and filled his head with false hopes of love and a future on the other side of the world together. Sehun wasn’t so naïve anymore.
As soon as the dinner was over, he melted into the shadows and disappeared to his room. Half of the preparations were already set in motion. He pulled his bag down from the top of the wardrobe and started stuffing anything he could reach inside. If he could just vanish without a sound, without having to say goodbye, then maybe it save a lot of pain.
However, he wasn’t so lucky.
Jongin barged into the room and froze. “What are you doing?”
Sehun didn’t turn around. He couldn’t. “I’m leaving,” he said, bluntly and without affection.
“Leaving?” There was a twinge of panic in Jongin’s voice that made him sound a decade younger than he was. “Why? W-where are you going?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“If course it matters! You can’t leave. You can’t leave me. I won’t let you!”
A hand grabbed at his shoulder but he shrugged it away. “Jongin, there’s nothing for me here. I don’t belong at Foxcombe. It was a mistake to leave Seoul. I’m going back and there’s no point in wasting your efforts in trying to stop me.”
Silence.
“But what about me? What about us? Is that not enough to stay?” Jongin eventually pleaded. “If this is about Mr Lu, he won’t be here forever. He’s a socialite, he’ll get bored before long and move on and take Miss Jung with him and you won’t have to worry anymore. I won’t ask questions, I won’t badger you for the truth, I promise you this. Please, Sehun. Please believe me.”
Sehun ran a frustrated hand through his hair and tried to keep calm. “I’ve handed in my notice. His Lordship has written a more-than-adequate reference. I’m…sorry.” His voice broke on the final word and it echoed with regret.
“Sehun, look at me.”
He didn’t move.
“I said, look at me!”
He did this time.
Sehun rotated on the spot, features as indifferent as he could paint them, and stared with determination into Jongin’s eyes.
“I’m sorry,” he repeated.
And he was; more than words could possibly describe. The pain that etched itself into Jongin’s face was almost too much to witness, but he kept their gazes locked. He stared into the face that had loomed over him all those nights ago and saved him from the demons that relentlessly haunted his dreams. But you can’t kill demons.
Just let me go, Sehun silently pleaded. Do it for me. Do it for yourself.
Let me save your life.
In the end, Jongin could only swear into the empty air and storm out, slamming the door behind him. Where he was going, Sehun didn’t know. Sehun didn’t need to know. He wouldn’t be here when Jongin got back.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out an unsealed envelope with Lord Wu written across the front in flowing cursive. Inside was the unfinished notice he’d yet to hand in. There was only one thing left to mention.
Trying with all his might to keep his hand still, Sehun leant against the bedside table and scratched one final line into the paper:
Miss Soojung is in danger. Do not let her marry Mr Lu. Her life may be forfeited.
With that, he finally sealed the letter and stood silent for a while, soaking the reality of it all into his skin. The time had come. He was ready to leave. Just about.
As he closed his meagre satchel containing the little possessions he had, the door creaked open behind him.
He sighed and turned. “Jongin, I really meant what I-”
But it wasn’t Jongin. It was Lu Han.
“Did you really think you were going to escape me, Sehun-ah?” The heir flashed a serpentine smirk as Sehun flinched at the sound of his affectionate pet-name once uttered much more frequently. The ravenous glint in his eyes burned down to Sehun’s core and he was suddenly terrified.
“S-stay away from me,” he croaked, edging back. But Lu Han only stepped closer.
“How could I possibly do that?” Lu Han’s eyes fell to the satchel. “Are you going somewhere?” He tutted. “I think you are a little mistaken, Sehun-ah.”
The gap between them closed. There wasn’t any more floor space in the tiny bedroom behind Sehun to move any further. His blood pumped hard with fear. His fists tightened in anticipation.
Lu Han leaned uncomfortably close to Sehun’s face to whisper, “You’re not going anywhere.”
And, with a single reach, he leant backwards to swing door closed behind him.
♦♦♦
Deep within the shadowy labyrinth of corridors snaking within Foxcombe’s interior, something was stirring.
It was a hunger - a hunger for the comforting reassurance of the past and the budding hope of new life, of a happier future outside of the cobbled prison’s walls. The ivy that climbed its face was suffocating, with vines that could curl around your throat and wrists and hold you to the ground.
The harder you pulled, the tighter they held on.
With the dark moon came a dark night and dark deeds to cut at Destiny’s string.
Something was stirring.
Someone was striking a match.
{ Chapter Seven }
Rating: NC-17/R
Pairing: SeKai + SuChen
Summary: The year is 1913. Kim Jongin and Kim Jongdae are footmen for Foxcombe House, owned by the Wu family who migrated to England following the success of Kristopher Wu's business in both Shanghai and London. He and his heiress wife, Jessica, now own the estate much to the distaste of the locals. A certain runaway from Seoul appears on the doorstep and suddenly the Kim brothers' lives are turned inside-out, destined to end in ruin.
Inspired by the era of Downton Abbey and a certain old manor in Sussex, England, with an eerie story to tell.
{ PROLOGUE } { ONE } { TWO } { THREE } { FOUR } { FIVE }
Chapter Six
“Help! HELP!”
The flames cracked and whipped and charred every lick of surface under their claws. Sehun could hear the relentless thrumming of heat on his ears and the pounding drum of a dark fist against the door. Jongin’s fist. The terrified words cried out from Jongin’s lips, sweat beads ran from Jongin’s temples, panic flared in Jongin’s veins - but it was Sehun looking through his eyes and witnessing his smouldering demise.
“HELP! SOMEBODY HELP! PLEASE!”
His desperate pleas were unheard, his efforts to pull frantically on the doorknob were failing and, as the embers clung to the back of his throat, everything began to get foggy and disorientating. Jongin’s muscles fell limp. His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. His knees gave way.
And the burning pain started at his ankles…
When Sehun awoke in the dead of night covered in cold-sweats and wrapped up so tightly in his sheet it cut at his skin, he wasn’t surprised. The dreams hadn’t changed much. It was practically routine. But what had changed, and what made his stomach sink into the floor, was the realisation that he was alone. There was no Jongin to clench his wrists and breath soothing words onto his lips. There was no Jongin much anymore and, at night, the cold sting of loneliness was hard to bare.
But it was for the best.
The sounds had made it worse, however. Now he could hear Jongin’s final words echoing in his head as he tried to sleep, like a morbid lullaby. Lu Han’s face loomed behind his eyes forebodingly and haunted the dark space when he closed them. He was sure the heir had something to do with the mysterious fire - he was sure of it - but he had no way of knowing for certain.
If I leave, will you follow? Can I tempt you away from this place to save him?
Sehun had failed to save one innocent soul already and it eroded his insides with guilt. He wasn’t about to let it happen for a second time, not again. Not to Jongin.
Not to the boy he loved.
♦♦♦
It was getting a lot warmer now; much warmer than the previous months. Thick clouds billowed outside the window and insulated the ground like a furnace with the air hot and suffocating. Occasionally thunder would ring out among the heavens and satisfy the parched grass with heavy showers to relish until it dried and yellowed once again. On this day, there was a break in the gloom as sunshine escaped through the gaps and filtered onto Jessica’s delicate skin through the glass as she sat at her vanity desk, powdering her cheeks. Behind her stood Soonkyu, her precious lady’s maid, twirling loose curls into a bun with artistic fingers and sticking her tongue between her teeth in concentration. A bored Soojung huffed from the bed.
“Sister, let’s go somewhere.”
Jessica rolled her eyes. “Where would we go exactly?”
“Anywhere. Anywhere but here. It’s so boring, I don’t know how you cope.”
“It was your decision to travel to this God-forsaken country,” she puffed through tight lips as she dabbed a light rouge onto her skin. “I’m not your personal entertainer.”
Soojung swung her legs off of the bed and wandered over to the window, peering around the curtains.
“Let’s take the car for a spin. It’s a nice day for a change, we should be making the most of it.”
Jessica paused, letting her hand hover in the air for a few moments until, “Perhaps another day.”
A sharp exhale left Soojung’s throat. “It’ll be raining another day…” she mumbled, heading back over to slump on the bed again. “I’ve travelled across oceans and seen real skyscrapers and I end up here…” She patted nonchalantly at the tassels hanging over the headboard with an exaggerated pout of annoyance like a child.
When Soonkyu had finished her design, she quickly flattened the flyaway hairs and stepped back. “There we go, my lady. I thought a simple but delicate design would best suit the occasion. I hope it’s to your taste.”
Jessica pivoted her head in front of the mirror. Sunbeams danced on her dark tresses and gave off a whimsical glow, accentuated by her round, doll-like face. She nodded with approval.
“It’s beautiful, thank you. As long as you can replicate it to-”
A hand flew to her lips. A sudden wave of nausea had swept to her stomach and made her head dizzy. Jessica cradled her forehead in her palm and closed her eyes as Soonkyu grabbed her shoulders.
“Are you okay, my lady?”
“I…I think so…”
But as soon as she said the words, she felt the blood rush from her cheeks and the room blurred and started moving despite her eyes staring in one direction. Soojung was at her side, now, and placing the back of her hand against her head.
“Soonkyu, fetch my sister a wet cloth. She’s awfully hot.”
The maid nodded and briskly left. Soojung navigated herself in front of Jessica’s chair and knelt down, staring into her face. By now the dizziness was beginning to fade and Jessica could make out her younger sister’s features much clearer. They looked worried.
Soonkyu returned with a soaked flannel and glass of water which Jessica gratefully took into her shaking fingers. Soojung dabbed the coolness against her face and neck and it helped soothe the nausea away. After a few moments, she signalled for Soonkyu to leave and the two Jung sisters were left alone.
“Are you sure you’re alright? Your skin is as pale as snow…”
Jessica swallowed and bobbed her chin. “I’m perfectly well, really. It was just a flush of sickness. I’ll be fine.”
She batted her away and resumed staring at her reflection. Indeed, the hair looked more than suitable; almost Grecian in style but with a modern twist. It was elegant and perfect for a dinner party. The colour was starting to return to her skin now.
“I do hope you’ll be healthy enough for the feast later. Remember what Mr Lu said last night,” Soojung said with a mischievous grin.
“There’s going to be an announcement, yes. I remember. As if we don’t already know what that will be.”
Soojung picked up various perfume bottles to inspect them out of mild interest. “You sound…disapproving. Father wasn’t disapproving.”
“Father sees only the worth of someone through their bank account. Mr Lu possesses enough riches to buy half of the continent - of course he wasn’t going to be disapproving.” Jessica pulled at the knots and pins behind her head and watched as her long locks cascaded back over her shoulders. No doubt Soonkyu would be able to copy her original design perfectly when it was time to get ready.
“But you are? Why so?” asked the younger, now walking about the room and staring at the various objects dotted around. A particular porcelain figurine on the mantelpiece caught her eye and she picked it up curiously, turning it in her palm.
“It’s not my place to judge the character of someone before getting to know them properly. I’m sure Mr Lu is a perfectly reasonable match if-”
“Sooyeon, please.” Soojung now spoke with a gentler tone and the sound of her Korean name brought a wave of nostalgia to Jessica’s ears. “Since when have you hidden behind politeness? You used to find that sort of thing so tiresome. Be honest with me, sister. What do you really think?”
Something had held her back from unleashing the words on her tongue, which was very out of character. But as naturally blunt as her personality may have been, Jessica was apprehensive to speak ill of somebody so powerful and influential, especially if they were about to become a part of the family.
She proceeded with caution, picking underneath her long fingernails. “There’s something about him, something…not quite right. He irks me.” And she wasn’t lying.
Soojung pursed her lips and replaced the figure on the shelf. “I see. Well, I can assure you that he is excellent company and terrific fun. You should get to know him a bit more instead of crouching behind all this ridiculous fine china you have lying around. I have big plans for my future, sister. Very big plans.”
Jessica let a hand fall to stroke her lower belly, massaging lightly with her fingertips.
Soojung wasn’t the only one.
♦♦♦
He wasn’t entirely sure what possessed him to do it, but there was nothing around to stop him.
Jongdae stepped out of his room, straightening his waistcoat, when Joonmyun emerged from his own. The butler quickly scampered down the corridor and disappeared down the winding staircase without even looking up. Jongdae made to turn in the opposite direction but something froze his feet in place. Curiosity had reared its ugly head with a sprinkle of paranoia.
Before he could reason with himself, Jongdae headed for Joonmyun’s door and turned the handle.
It wasn’t locked.
He shot a final look down the hallway to check the coast was clear before slipping inside as quietly as his shoes would allow.
Everything was neat and orderly, just as Joonmyun always left it. The bed was perfectly made. His books stood in alphabetical order by the author’s surname along the shelves of his bookcase. Every surface was meticulously dusted. There wasn’t a single thing out of place.
Except the top drawer of his desk.
The opening was no thicker than a hairline, but enough to catch his attention. It must’ve been shut in a hurry. Jongdae knew what was inside and his fingers tingled, longing to feel its contents in his grasp. A couple of strides was all it took to position himself directly in front of it and let his fingertips trail the drawer handle teasingly. All of his prayers could be answered, all his agonising worries put to rest…if he could only bring himself to read it.
The drawer creaked open at his touch. Inside, the leather-bound diary that he’d watched Joonmyun spill his inner-most thoughts and feelings into for years loomed back at him. It was a small thing compared to the level of intimidation it radiated into the air. For so many nights, Jongdae had laid awake with unrelenting insomnia; haunted by wine-soaked memories and the painful regret that followed. He just wanted answers. He just wanted the truth. He deserved it, after everything - or so he’d convinced himself.
He heard muffled sounds from somewhere in the building and, in panic, quickly grabbed the diary and slipped it into his inside jacket pocket with slight difficulty. After a quick sweep of the room to make sure he hadn’t moved anything else, Jongdae left as slick and quiet as a fox and disappeared back to his own room where he leant back against the door, gasping harsh breaths. He could feel the square outline of the diary pressing onto his chest through his clothes and it made his heart want to burst through of his ribs from the apprehension.
What would he read? Was he truly ready for it? Could he bare the worst?
Was he even mentioned at all?
He didn’t have time to ponder for too long. Lord Wu would be waiting for him in his quarters before long. Until a time when he was free, Jongdae slid the book under his mattress to join the bundle of letters tied with string and left with a rather queasy stomach.
♦♦♦
Mr Lu wanted roast pork so roast pork was what Mr Lu got for his mysterious feast. The staff had known nothing of it until the day before when the cook was handed a particularly extravagant shopping list with pork and fresh sea bass requested as the main dishes. Jongin had been assigned the quest of buying the sea bass from the market in Chichester which took a bus ride through sporadic summer rains to get to. The town was pulsing from the crowd and the smell of salted fish wafted between the stalls where tradesmen cried out for people to buy their wares. People stared, as they always did, but Jongin kept his chin deep in his chest and tried to keep his English accent as crisp as possible. Hands now laden with bags of seafood and the odd seasoning missing from Foxcombe’s larder, Jongin trudged back to wait at the bus stop. His spirits were low. Sehun would have loved Chichester.
He had a plan, of course. Despite the silence and awkwardness since Jongin left Sehun’s bedroom that night, he’d given the younger the space to, hopefully, clear his head. In time, he knew, Sehun would come back to him and, once Mr Lu left their lives, everything would go back to normal. There was no reason for Sehun to stay mad at him forever. It was only a matter of time.
That didn’t stop the bed feeling cold at night and the twinge of sorrow in his abdomen whenever the boy walked past and didn’t say a word.
Back at the House, everything was in a flurry. Jongin had returned in time for the sea bass to be cooked while the pork sizzled happily and various pots of vegetables bubbled on the stove and the cook’s hair was up on end from all the stress. Jongdae was helping Yi Xing peel potatoes at the table with his sleeves rolled up and a bucket between his legs to catch the skins. Through the doorway, he could see Joonmyun carrying bottles of wine from the wine cellar with a flustered Mrs Kwon squawking in his ear. Jongin’s heart stopped when Sehun entered the steamy kitchen to grab some glasses with gloved hands. He didn’t raise his gaze before leaving.
A tub of spuds with a knife on top was suddenly shoved into Jongin’s arms.
“Make yourself useful!” the cook snapped.
He huffed and sat on a stool next to Jongdae. Preparing food was not his idea of fun but his feet hurt from walking around town and he was grateful for the sit-down.
“How many are even eating tonight?” he asked. The air was hot and wet from all the cooking and Jongin could already feel his palms getting clammy.
“Mr Lu has invited some associates from Portsmouth to join them, I’ve heard. Shipping merchants by the sounds of it. At least one of them is good friends with His Lordship’s father.”
“Still, doesn’t this seem a little much? What’s this so-called ‘announcement’ about?”
Jongdae shrugged, seemingly distracted. “If Mr Lu wants a feast, he gets a feast. I guess we’ll find out. Now shut up and get peeling!”
♦♦♦
The potatoes took forever and Jongdae could feel his hands shaking the entire time. More than once, he managed to slice his thumb on the knife and dot his skin with dried red. He was far too distracted to feel the pain, however. He could barely concentrate on anything, not when he knew what lay waiting for him under his bed. Then there was the fear that Joonmyun would find his diary missing before he returned it. Would the butler suspect him? Would he go as far as to search his room to find it again?
These thoughts plagued him as he met with Lord Wu in his quarters to help him get ready for the night’s dinner. Every word that left his employer’s mouth sounded muffled to his ears, as though his head was submerged underwater. He didn’t care much for the rival porcelain companies moving to London from mainland Europe or the increase in production costs, which were the topics of discussion. Jongdae nodded and smiled and picked out Lord Wu’s dress shirt quickly in the hope that the process could finish as fast as possible while Jack happily wagged his tail on the bed. When the bell finally sounded from downstairs, Jongdae breathed a sigh of relief and rushed back to his room.
Joonmyun was no-where to be seen. He was more than likely in the entrance hall, greeting the guests. The diary hadn’t moved from its spot. He sat on the bed, cradling it in his palms, and stared at the cover long and hard. Now that he was here, now that he possessed the knowledge he sought, resting on his fingers, he could barely muster the courage to open it.
Maybe my name isn’t in here. Maybe he didn’t write about me at all. Maybe I really do mean that little to him.
In the fool’s hope that he could be wrong, Jongdae sucked in a breath and quickly flicked the pages until he reached mid-June and the right day. He couldn’t bring himself to read all of it and, instead, let his eyes wander over the page, picking out random snippets and scanning for his own name.
He found it.
“After what happened tonight with Jongdae, I feel disgusted with myself.”
Disgusted.
“I can’t bring myself to look at him, not after what we’d done. I don’t think I could look at him again - not now, not ever.”
“It wasn’t the wine’s fault, but my own.”
“I pray to God that he will grant me the power to turn back time, to erase the night from existence - even from my own memory.”
“I can’t handle this regret.”
Jongdae slammed the book shut. Salty tears stung in the corner of his vision. His chest felt constricted with despair and a fiery anger kindled inside. It took all the strength he had not to sear every page of the diary into pieces and scatter them on the ground. He knew it wouldn’t achieve anything. Destroying the diary wouldn’t satisfy his needs. It wasn’t enough.
Swiftly, while he was still whole enough to do so, Jongdae crept back into Joonmyun’s empty room and returned it to the drawer. It took a little extra nudging to shut it completely but he managed it and slunk out again without being noticed. Back in his bedroom, he walked over to the window and stared out onto the expansive grounds.
Why am I even still here?
Jongin, his rock, had Sehun to occupy his interests. His heart’s infatuation for the past two years, his true love, had not a single ounce of desire for him in return. He was trapped on a grassy wasteland and he’d never felt more alone.
His pile of letters to Joonmyun sat on the bed. The wad had become surprisingly thick over the years. It had started out as harmless therapy to help him collect his thoughts but evolved into something much deeper, much more meaningful. He’s always pictured Joonmyun’s beaming smile when he could finally hand them over…but Jongdae couldn’t see it anymore and the emptiness hurt.
A fist scrunched at his side. Joonmyun had ruined everything for him.
And he was going to pay.
♦♦♦
The guests arrived and Jongin took the elder’s coat. He was a stout man with small eyes and was introduced to the staff as Mr Byun. His company built cargo ships and his time in Portsmouth was only a fleeting visit before heading west to America. Accompanying him was his business associate and eldest son, a fresh-faced shipping protégée by the name of Byun Baekhyun who was barely in his twenties. Kris greeted Mr Byun with enthusiasm as though they’d known each other for years and, after a couple of drinks in the drawing room by the fire, they made their way into the dining room for dinner.
Once the copious plates of food were brought in, Jongin took his newly-appointed place behind Lord Wu while Sehun stood behind Lady Wu’s chair, ready to assist when needed. Jongin almost missed seeing Jongdae’s face around so often. Now that he was Kris’ personal valet, he didn’t need to help with the serving of meals anymore. It was a shame; Jongin had once used Jongdae’s presence as a comfort blanket that he was now too old for. Mr Lu kept shooting Sehun playful glances from his seat and it grated on Jongin’s patience severely.
As the party dug into the feast, Kris’ brows met together at the sight in front of him.
“It almost feels a little…ostentatious for such a small gathering.”
“Nonsense!” cried Lu Han, happily piling the potatoes onto his plate. “The occasion demands a little luxury, trust me.”
Mr Byun nodded merrily in agreement. Baekhyun smiled shyly next to him, unsure of how much pork to push his luck with and looking a little lost. An heir to a fortune, just like Mr Lu, thought Jongin as his stomach twisted with jealousy. They had it so easy. Money was shoved into their palms from birth and opportunities fell into their laps without much effort while Jongin worked 14 hours a day, sometimes longer, just to sleep on a lumpy mattress in the basement.
But that was the harsh truth of reality.
Once the party had settled with plates laden with delicacies, Mr Lu raised his glass. “Cheers, everyone!” The table followed suit.
Jessica took longer than the others to drink her share and Lu Han couldn’t help but notice.
“Lady Wu, will you not have another glass of wine? An empty cup is a catastrophe!”
Kris reached across to place his hand on top of hers. “I think water would be preferable, perhaps. My wife has been feeling a little delicate recently.”
“All the more reason to drink, if you ask me,” Lu Han chortled and the other men laughed with him.
Jessica flashed Kris a grateful smile as she ate, taking only small bites and barely finishing her plate but nobody said another word on the matter. More and more the rest of the party members ate and drank and soon rich trifles and fruit pies were brought out from down below, sprinkled with fine sugar that glistened. By this point, Soojung was swinging her wine glass between her fingers with a slightly glazed look to match her giggles as she swooned over Mr Lu sat opposite, hanging onto every word he spoke and laughing accordingly. Jongin had tried to catch Sehun’s eye during the entire meal but the boy refused to look over. He stared straight ahead the entire time and barely moved at all unless he was setting down plates or pouring drinks. His back was perfectly rigid with hands clasped at the base of his spine with perfectly flattened hair. He looked like an elegant statue carved from marble.
Eventually the table had been licked clean and Lu Han rose from his seat.
“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for dining with me this evening; it’s been a pleasure. If this had been our homeland, it would’ve been an even bigger affair but, nonetheless, the company has been glorious.” He nodded in the direction of Mr Byun who mirrored his appreciation. “The reason I have brought you together, however, is still something of a mystery, I realise.” He clapped his palms together. “With the success of my family’s business now in my hands, I’ve been thinking very seriously about my future and the future of my own possible family. With that, I have some very exciting news.”
Silence. He grinned with satisfaction.
“Myself and Soojung are to be married.”
The table gasped. Soojung beamed, cheeks tinged pink from both happiness and too much wine. Mr Byun clapped with approval. Jessica forced a smile. Kris seemed genuinely oblivious for a moment until he, too, clapped his hands and brought Lu Han into a congratulatory embrace. Meanwhile , Jongin’s eyes had flown to Sehun’s face which was ghostly pale and even a little green. His arms looked as though they were shaking. Jongin wanted nothing more than to cross the room and reassure him from whatever horrors were flying around his head, but he knew he couldn’t. He stood, helpless, watching as Sehun broke down a little inside while the rest of the room was completely oblivious.
“Are you ready to accept me as your brother-in-law?” asked Lu Han, slapping Kris’ upper arm as he pulled away.
“Of course. It will be an honour.”
“I meant what I said before, Kristopher. I have big plans for us, very big indeed. Are you up for the adventure?”
Kris looked uneasy for a fleeting moment. “Perhaps we’ll discuss that more another time.”
“Certainly. I propose a toast!” He lifted his glass once again. “To my darling fiancé and our beautiful life together!”
The room chorused in unison.
But he wasn’t looking at Soojung.
♦♦♦
Jongdae never believed himself capable of the sinister things that crept to the back of his mind, but it was shocking to see what dejection and resentment could achieve with idle hands.
Tucked into the corner of the servant’s quarters was the medicine cabinet, although it resembled a walk-in closet with walls of shelves decorated with medical supplies for the family and staff. He found what he was looking for in the far corner of the top shelf. It took a little clamouring and the help of a small stool to reach it hidden in the shadows; a dusty, brown bottle.
He didn’t possess much physical strength and he was fully aware of this. No doubt Joonmyun would retaliate, and win more than likely, if given the opportunity to - but he wasn’t about to let that happen. He couldn’t take having his heart played with like a toy and thrown away out of boredom and disappointment. There were consequences to consider: you break it, you pay the price.
His fury had dulled his senses. He could hear only the sound of his blood pumping furiously with adrenaline. It spurred his limbs to pounce at the right moment.
Joonmyun struggled. His limbs lashed out at sharp angles and hands reached up to claw at Jongdae’s arms and face in terror. They didn’t achieve much. Jongdae only pressed the cloth harder against his lips, willing the fumes to ensnare his consciousness. It took a while, much longer than he expected, but Joonmyun’s form eventually fell limp and heavy, a dead weight, in his grasp. He tucked his arms under the butler’s shoulders to heave him across the floor and his feet dragged awkwardly with one catching on the doorframe as he went. Panting and huffing with sweat seeping at his temples, Jongdae opened his bedroom door with a nudge of his hip and pulled Joonmyun’s unconscious body inside…
♦♦♦
The engagement had been the final straw.
How he’d managed to keep himself standing throughout the entire meal, Sehun didn’t know. It was a miracle his legs hadn’t given way and sent him crumbling to the floor. Lu Han had caught his eyes at every opportunity, even going as far as lightly stroking his wrist when he served the heir his meal. Nobody had noticed - he was sly like that. It was a necessary characteristic to possess as a man who wooed his father’s help and filled his head with false hopes of love and a future on the other side of the world together. Sehun wasn’t so naïve anymore.
As soon as the dinner was over, he melted into the shadows and disappeared to his room. Half of the preparations were already set in motion. He pulled his bag down from the top of the wardrobe and started stuffing anything he could reach inside. If he could just vanish without a sound, without having to say goodbye, then maybe it save a lot of pain.
However, he wasn’t so lucky.
Jongin barged into the room and froze. “What are you doing?”
Sehun didn’t turn around. He couldn’t. “I’m leaving,” he said, bluntly and without affection.
“Leaving?” There was a twinge of panic in Jongin’s voice that made him sound a decade younger than he was. “Why? W-where are you going?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“If course it matters! You can’t leave. You can’t leave me. I won’t let you!”
A hand grabbed at his shoulder but he shrugged it away. “Jongin, there’s nothing for me here. I don’t belong at Foxcombe. It was a mistake to leave Seoul. I’m going back and there’s no point in wasting your efforts in trying to stop me.”
Silence.
“But what about me? What about us? Is that not enough to stay?” Jongin eventually pleaded. “If this is about Mr Lu, he won’t be here forever. He’s a socialite, he’ll get bored before long and move on and take Miss Jung with him and you won’t have to worry anymore. I won’t ask questions, I won’t badger you for the truth, I promise you this. Please, Sehun. Please believe me.”
Sehun ran a frustrated hand through his hair and tried to keep calm. “I’ve handed in my notice. His Lordship has written a more-than-adequate reference. I’m…sorry.” His voice broke on the final word and it echoed with regret.
“Sehun, look at me.”
He didn’t move.
“I said, look at me!”
He did this time.
Sehun rotated on the spot, features as indifferent as he could paint them, and stared with determination into Jongin’s eyes.
“I’m sorry,” he repeated.
And he was; more than words could possibly describe. The pain that etched itself into Jongin’s face was almost too much to witness, but he kept their gazes locked. He stared into the face that had loomed over him all those nights ago and saved him from the demons that relentlessly haunted his dreams. But you can’t kill demons.
Just let me go, Sehun silently pleaded. Do it for me. Do it for yourself.
Let me save your life.
In the end, Jongin could only swear into the empty air and storm out, slamming the door behind him. Where he was going, Sehun didn’t know. Sehun didn’t need to know. He wouldn’t be here when Jongin got back.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out an unsealed envelope with Lord Wu written across the front in flowing cursive. Inside was the unfinished notice he’d yet to hand in. There was only one thing left to mention.
Trying with all his might to keep his hand still, Sehun leant against the bedside table and scratched one final line into the paper:
Miss Soojung is in danger. Do not let her marry Mr Lu. Her life may be forfeited.
With that, he finally sealed the letter and stood silent for a while, soaking the reality of it all into his skin. The time had come. He was ready to leave. Just about.
As he closed his meagre satchel containing the little possessions he had, the door creaked open behind him.
He sighed and turned. “Jongin, I really meant what I-”
But it wasn’t Jongin. It was Lu Han.
“Did you really think you were going to escape me, Sehun-ah?” The heir flashed a serpentine smirk as Sehun flinched at the sound of his affectionate pet-name once uttered much more frequently. The ravenous glint in his eyes burned down to Sehun’s core and he was suddenly terrified.
“S-stay away from me,” he croaked, edging back. But Lu Han only stepped closer.
“How could I possibly do that?” Lu Han’s eyes fell to the satchel. “Are you going somewhere?” He tutted. “I think you are a little mistaken, Sehun-ah.”
The gap between them closed. There wasn’t any more floor space in the tiny bedroom behind Sehun to move any further. His blood pumped hard with fear. His fists tightened in anticipation.
Lu Han leaned uncomfortably close to Sehun’s face to whisper, “You’re not going anywhere.”
And, with a single reach, he leant backwards to swing door closed behind him.
♦♦♦
Deep within the shadowy labyrinth of corridors snaking within Foxcombe’s interior, something was stirring.
It was a hunger - a hunger for the comforting reassurance of the past and the budding hope of new life, of a happier future outside of the cobbled prison’s walls. The ivy that climbed its face was suffocating, with vines that could curl around your throat and wrists and hold you to the ground.
The harder you pulled, the tighter they held on.
With the dark moon came a dark night and dark deeds to cut at Destiny’s string.
Something was stirring.
Someone was striking a match.
{ Chapter Seven }