tonight
a night with a covered face

The world melted away.

Ten was still grinning the widest I'd ever seen him grin, obviously proud of himself for having his wits about when none of the rest of us did. Of course, there was the amazing feeling of having stolen two beautiful motorcycles, but I guessed he was more attracted to the emotion than the bikes themselves.

I was still not utterly in my senses, but it was as if looking at the motorcycles had awoken something inside me. Unable to take my eyes off them, I got to my feet, leaning on Vernon for balance, fascinated by the way the headlight glinted in the darkness. The danger of being killed didn't seem so dangerous now.

It had been so long since I'd been on a bike.

Yeeun noticed the look on my face, but didn't say anything about it. Vernon got up as I did, seemingly still worried that I'd keel over, and held on to me as he proceeded towards the bike she was on. Yeeun slid off just as I grabbed the rolled-up sleeve of his shirt. He turned, raising his eyebrows in concerned inquisitiveness, and I shook my head.

"I can probably ride it better than you," I said.

A few feet away, Ten snickered furtively.

"I know that," Vernon said, then bit his lip. His hands had still not released their hold on the handlebars, but I could tell he was hesitating. "Look, it's not that you can't ride the bike. I know you can, of course I do. It's just that, after all that just happened—"

Yeeun watched him struggle with words for another moment before putting up a hand, stopping him mid-sentence. "Chwe, I understand your worries, but what we need right now is a quick getaway. She might not handle it well, but I would rather we end up on the wrong side of the road than on the wrong side of a knife."

Vernon didn't look very happy at being interrupted, especially through a single, blunt action, and I knew his mood wasn't exactly being helped along by the situation. He was usually able to rely on his tongue—in more ways than one—but there wasn't enough time to convince anyone about who should ride the motorcycle and who shouldn't.

I looked up at him, tightening my grip on his sleeve pleadingly.

He took another long look at me, then relented with a reluctant sigh. "Okay, then," he muttered under his breath as I climbed onto the bike, then proceeded to climb on behind me. I held my breath as his arms locked around my waist, his chest warm and hard against my back.

This was a new feeling, and the adrenaline should have been enough to deal with it, but my mind was exploring every single sensation before letting it go. There was much that I needed to figure out about what I was feeling, but I had no time to consider all that. Vernon was probably right. I wasn't the best getaway driver, especially in this state.

"Come on," Ten said urgently, as new shouts arose from behind us. "Follow me. There's no time to waste."

I nodded, taking a deep breath to ready myself.

A simple twist of the wrist, and we were off.

Riding a motorcycle had always been the gray area between the exhilaration of a drive and the normalcy of, well, everything else. It was icy cold, yet it was boiling hot—riding took up every part of your brain. Your hands and feet were always working, along with all of your mind. All at once, you were aware, and in control, but you were at the mercy of the wind. One wrong move, and everything could go wrong in a split second.

I felt much more stable than I had been a few minutes ago, even though my feet weren't planted on the ground. Vernon's arms were still wrapped around my abdomen, holding me down like an anchor—not pulling me back, but the one thing connecting me to the earth. I was flying, and this time, there was no feeling of sinking. The feeling of the grooves of the brake underneath my palm was a reminder of the past, but for once, not a painful one.

I didn't need to look behind me to know the muggers weren't following us. There was no way they could, if you consider the speed with which we were going. Ten was riding much slower than I would have, but it was probably for the best, in case I had gotten rusty because of the lack of practice. But then, as it was with bicycles, you never really forgot how to ride a motorcycle.

The highway stretched out before us, endless and winding, lit only by the moon. I could smell salt and the sea, a never-ending expanse of blue. There was no time for sideways-glances, but I already knew what I would see if I chose to look—the waves like a bulge of sea-glass, turquoise and silver, frothing white where it broke over the sand.

Everyone had their own freedom to taste, and this was mine. On the road.

Ten seemed to be enjoying himself as much as me, as indicated by the whoops and shouts that floated back to us. He seemed to be performing wheelies, something I wouldn't advise with a passenger, but he looked like he was managing it just fine. Something bubbled up inside me, and with a start, I realized it was a laugh.

The journey ended too soon, and I got off with a heart that had been too long in flight to feel heavy. My house was located at the end of a cul-de-sac, squatting amidst other, mirror-image buildings that formed a circle open at one end. Not the best option if you wanted to run, being a dead-end and all, but good for last stands.

I frowned at the thought.

"I wish I had something cool to play," Ten said, spuming with excitement. There was a less than sane grin on his face, nothing close to the reserved expression he had donned when we at the dealer's. "That's all I could think about while we were riding, you know. About how amazing it felt, but how it would have been even more amazing if you could be ad-libbing to Highway To Hell."

"Not so much if you want to die," Yeeun said. It was clear that she wasn't half as keen on the idea of biking as Ten was. She ran her fingers through her hair, which looked ruffled from the ride. "I'm going with Hwang next time."

"If there is a next time, you mean," said Vernon.

I came within an inch of smiling, but the energy I had found on the highway appeared to have burned out. It came as a surprise when I had to smother a yawn, but of course he caught on, and made his thoughts clear with a sigh.

"We need to get to bed," he said without thinking, and the now-invigorated Ten laughed. Vernon sent a disapproving frown in his direction. It was obvious that he was still rattled from the attack, and I couldn't really blame him for it.

"He's right," Yeeun piped up, her observant eyes on me. "You only just got back on your feet, and even then, it's too soon. We don't need your ligaments tearing open again."

"My ligaments never tore open," I muttered, remembering with a frown the way Jimin had informed me what exactly was wrong with my ankle. "I'm fine. It was just a sprain."

"A sprain is too much to carry if you want to run for your life." I chafed under the comment, but she wasn't exactly wrong. "Come on."

We trudged up the stairs to my house, fizzled out. When we reached the door, Ten turned and offered me a half-smile, but it didn't do much to pick up my mood.

The house was dark. Yeeun signed off first, then Ten, leaving me and Vernon standing in the middle of a place that was full, but seemed empty at one in the morning.

I hung back, not sure why I had put myself in such an awkward position. Somehow, I'd already known Vernon wasn't going to go to bed. He hadn't looking tired, but there had been the perpetually exhausted look in his eyes when I had looked into them. Maybe he was going to go off and brood the way guys in old movies did. He certainly looked the part.

"You don't really want me to go to my room, do you?" I asked, but it came out resigned. The corner of his lips had quirked, but he still looked sad when he turned and opened the back door.

I followed him through it, stepping out into the back. The outdoors seemed lighter than the interior of the house, because of the stars. It took me a few moments to adjust my eyes to the brightness.

When they did, the first thing they saw was Vernon leaning against the wall of the house. His shoulders sagged, but his face was turned up towards the night sky, eyes wide open. His eyes had always been a shade lighter than those of everyone else around him, and I could still pinpricks of light in them now.

"You can see the stars from here," he mused. I raised an eyebrow.

"You brought me out here to talk about stars?"

"Nice break from all the other stuff, don't you think?" he asked, shrugging. "The blood, the facts. But, as a matter of fact, no. I didn't bring you out here to talk about the stars."

I stared up at the lone tree. "I knew it was too good to be true."

He smiled. For a few minutes, we stood in silence, and I soaked in as much peace as I could from the surroundings. After all, who knew how long it was going to be before we were disturbed again—as we always were.

Then he shook his head and unfolded his arms, looking over at me as he schooled his features into something more sober. "There's something you need to know."

"Story of my life," I said dryly.

Vernon shook his head, pushing himself off the wall and taking a few, steady steps towards me. "When we were at the apartments," he started, looking vaguely uncomfortable, and I remembered all I had said to him in a flash. "You asked me about Taeyong."

Dead. He's dead, isn't he? I looked away quickly, trying to hide the welling of emotions in me. The sudden sorrow I had felt at being reminded of my harshness was overshadowed by the question of Taeyong. I wanted Vernon to stop talking, so I could live on in ignorance. I had figured out a long time ago that he was being hunted by the racers, and three years was too long a time for him to hold out.

"If it hadn't been for all the Lee business, I wouldn't have tried to touch him," Vernon carried on, and I pursed my lips. "The reason he was with us in the first place was because Jungkook had offered him sanctuary from his family, but now that we had you, you were our priority." His eyes were pleading when they sought mine, and my agitation increased. "We couldn't—"

There was a resounding crash, and both of us whirled around. The conversation had already had me on edge, but now I felt like a wanderer in a dark forest, wondering what the newest interruption would bring.

I caught Vernon's eye, and he gestured towards the fence. Nodding in understanding, I crept forward. There was no point in calling out, as many close encounters with criminals had taught me, but sneaking up was probably not going to be of any help. Assuming the person hadn't fled yet.

I signaled Vernon to lower his gun, a direction which he obeyed rather reluctantly. It was too dark to see past the undergrowth, but I wasn't scared of getting killed. Maybe it was acceptance, maybe it was some cold logic that hadn't yet presented itself to my conscious mind, but I felt at peace.

There was a rustle, and I stepped forward cautiously. It could just have been an animal, and I was giving it the benefit of doubt, but I didn't trust it any further.

Then something appeared out the dark, just above the trashcan. Short, thin, smaller than my palm. A surprised, delighted laugh tore past my throat, and Vernon stared at me.

It was a lollipop.

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my dumb self decided to play a thousand years while writing this (DIRECTLY after shoot to thrill, because transitions amirite) and i kept thinking of edward whenever i wrote vernon. now i can't get the idea of veryong being edward/jacob out of my head.