i want pinned down (i want unsettled), kai
i want pinned down (i want unsettled)
kai, r, 525w
killers!au, same verse with kiss & swallow. Kim Jongin's first kill.
i want pinned down.
(i want unsettled.)
You don't forget your first kill, the same way you never quite get over the first love. Sometimes Kai would like to think his life started the day he joined EXO K as Kai, but the fact is his first kill belonged to Kim Jongin.
Life is a game, and you want to make sure you're the one winning. This is what KangTa tells Kim Jongin as he shoves the gun into his hands. A basic 9mm semi-auto, ebony black, simple and deadly. It's heavier than he imagined it would be, that feeling of holding someone's life and death in his small clumsy hands. KangTa's hand molds his fingers around the grip, gently pulling his forefinger to the trigger. The metal is cold in his hands.
"Use both hands for your first time," KangTa says, a quirk of a smile on his lips. He moves away to the side, and there's only Jongin left in the middle of the room, holding on to a gun with both hands, pointing the barrel at a bound and gagged man staring at him in wide-eyed terror.
The man is struggling and crying out behind his gag, but when Jongin looks into his eyes, he sees it. The dimming desperation. The resignation that he's going to get killed by a fourteen-year-old kid. But Jongin sees no penance, no regrets, so he pulls the trigger.
First shot, the bullet embeds itself in the man's collarbones. Blood sprays the wall with broken bone fragments. There's screaming.
Second shot, left lung. The sound of the gunshot is louder. They're different, the sound of a bullet hitting flesh and the sound of a bullet hitting a can.
Third shot, left jaw. The impact smashes open half of his face. He can see half of a tongue falling out if he looks closely. There are broken blood-soaked teeth dropping down the front of his shirt. There's no more screaming.
Jongin lowers the gun. The smell of gunpowder settles in the air, metallic with a touch of putrid blood. KangTa tugs the gun out of his hands. They feel stiff, frozen.
The human wreckage in front of him is ugly, but he can't look away. So this is what revenge feels like, Jongin thinks. Repulsive. Empty. A little lost. This is what he's been chasing after for the last six years. A broken sack of flesh and bones. Is that it? He feels like he should take a picture, trying to drag this moment a little longer.
If you've already achieved the goal of your life and the one thing you've ever wanted at age fourteen, then what's left?
"You've got good aim," KangTa says, checking the cartridge with a smile on his lips. "Let's go find you some good friends, kid."
"I don't do friends," Jongin is saying, but he's not walking away.
If life is a game you've already won, then that's left? Do you just kill off all the other pawns just for the thrill of it?
SM is not exactly your model orphanage, but it's something to pass the time, learning how to drive a knife down someone's throat.