@kurosawa mio ⁹⁶ Her eyebrows raise and Dohyun wonders if he undermined her. He may have all her best interests at heart, he figures he still sounds like the man making himself a hero to save his lady. That alone is insulting to a woman like Mio. Since they met he saw how she could use all tools to sort things out, going through two trials and the media pressure around it, alone. She never shows any weakness, but he happens to remember she had to grow up to the standards of the traditional japanese family back home and yet acclimated to the life in korea like she was born there. She never needed his help, their wedding, was not a way for her to get any immunity as some tabloids tried to portray her. She once again picked the hardest option, for reasons he cannot exactly comprehend. But Dohyununderstands that he, of all people in Kurosawa Mio's life, should never cast any shadow on her freedom or on her accomplishments.
Dohyun knows oh so well the two go way back. Enough for him to accept that he cannot possibly be trusted half as much as she probably does Hajoon. It makes sense, although he would always shout out to the injustice. Never in his life he has met someone who would as skilled as that man whose backgroung remains a bit of a mystery to him. Money could not pay for this type of protection, so Dohyun more than tolerates the said flying monkey. He does mean the connotation however, of an acolyte doing a witch's bidding, anything for the will of /his/ wicked witch of the west. His fingertip nears the scar next to her collarbone and he can feel her attention. Three years of marriage still have the man wondering if he is about to get bitten for overstepping a boundary. The thrill of living with Mio is to walk each day in a field that looks familiar but where traps and smokescreens change, rules are never the same and what may be permitted a minute ago can be forbidden the next. But he likes to touch the proof of a weakness, a scar society may rule a flaw, but in his eyes, it is a stronger proof for perfection: invincibility. His thumb brushes the old scar, a sour smile on his face. The eve was the opposite of fun to him. He does not have to hide it, now that she is with him, he is home. But he feels they have spoken enough of the topics they would rather ignore.
Her hands on him are like the sea, waves conquering him in high tides, sometimes like now, he does not feel her gaining in strength, and would realize he is already drowning in her when it would be too late. And sometimes he could walk for hours to find her, try and try talking her into affection, care, even if only from him to her and she may remain just at large, unreachable. Today she is so close.
"I was practically begging you to stay yesterday, you would have probably disliked your husband last night; I am glad you were away. If it's any consolation, I can just let you know how it feels to be my lovely witch every other day of the year." He smiles, so fondly when he gets to call her the mean names he has for her when they are alone. His palm brushes up to her neck, his thumb gently pushing her jaw up as he leans down, his nose brushing hers in the polite and familiar way he would warn her of his intention to kiss her, if she does not angle her face off his. There is always more than a second for her to decline the affection. "Can we have something to eat together? I want to feed you." His lips curl, unsure how she would react to that demand of his. Maybe doing it without premeditation is easier to have Mio agree to it, but he loves the idea of either seeing her agree to the boring lovey-dovey idea or fight the repulsive idea of something this childish, pointless. If she fights it, then he would make a case for it, he would make her regret ever refusing it, trust a prosecutor to never give up on a cause dear to him. That is when he finally leans down further, his nose brushing right next to her, when his lips chase hers for a gentle kiss, the adrenaline as raw as their first kiss. He never knows when she would play nice, when she may not be in the mood and Dohyun himself got used to living without it. And how he loves the thrill, his arm pulling her waist to him boldly, leaving her less choice on that matter than he does the kiss.
@ahn dohyun ⁹⁶ Mio keeps her eyes on the man, as though gauging Dohyun's sincerity — but she is well aware that there is no need to. She is aware of where his loyalty lies, and while she doesn't understand what caused a supposedly sensible man to become enamored with a woman such as herself, she supposes that for now, that should be enough. He hasn't overstepped his boundaries — not too far at least, not enough for her to forcibly terminate this contract that he has so willingly asked of her. There is no reason for her to step into actions, not when they are still inevitably dancing by the tune that she's set for them.
Her freedom, she repeats in her mind, eyebrows rising. She wonders what Dohyun thinks of the whole event; wonders if he believes that she has a hand on it, though that wouldn't be strange. It doesn't sting, no, to think that her own husband may be suspicious of her actions when it comes to death. In fact, she would only say that this is a natural reaction. After all, the two of them met during the trials of her deceased husbands, both of whom were undeniably murdered. It would make more sense for him to think so rather than not, and she isn't certain of why the thought amuses her more than it should.
She almost laughs at the mention of her friend, whose relationship with her threads farther than a mere friend, yet not lovers, no, definitely not. "I trust that /flying monkey/ with my life and my back turned, Dohyun," she says, and her tone carries an unusual genuinity with it. Hajoon would go to hell and back for Mio, she knows, for he trusts that she will give him an opening to be able to do so. She decides not to add anything more, and her attention drifts to his touch on her shoulder, on her collarbone. She listens as he talks about his tale for yesternight, though she knows enough to know the holes in his story, which rings true and which doesn't.
Unsurprisingly, only two of those are the truth.
"It was rather relaxing, actually," she says almost nonchalantly. "Esther is good company as always, and it is fun to be with your bestfriends on Valentines, isn't it?" She shrugs her shoulders lightly, before she trails her hand from his palm, up to his arm, to his shoulder, then to his shirt, grasping onto it. "So perhaps you can show me what I missed last night when you asked me to stay."
@kurosawa mio ⁹⁶ This talk is not over, but there only so much words can prove to his Wife. He understands the insistance however, and while he does not wish to anger his wife, she always ask him to act more like he is her husband, hers only, in those uncomfortable situations. They may be at oods, but this is when Dohyun can sense there may be a true need for her to really have him, from head to toes, an accessory she would leave behind most days, unless his friend would so much as show interest to have him near. So he stands corrected by the young woman: he is hers when she fears another's perfume may tint his.
A glance to his hand and he wonders if he overstepped, too confidently askin for her hand. With Mio he knew being her husband meant they shared the same roof and taking care of each other's image, trusting one another. Feelings however were not part of the contract, highly volatile, as are affections. This is a tight deal Dohyun smuggles his adoration in for the wife who may have as many reasons to keep him as to send him away.
"She asked of me to do this because I advise her on legal matters. Still, my legal obligations cannot jeopardize your freedom. And I do not particularly wish to become your imprisoned husband. I am not yet protecting her on this. Not until I am sure this won't hurt you. I need a bit more time." He is on the fence regarding this matter. It is something he would tell his best friend himself, given the right timing, but he trusts Mio won't shake it at Hyori's face. "You are my priority. It's for your safety I would go the farthest," He echoes one of his vows to her, since the day he proposed. "But you still rely on your flying monkey for protection." And he probably could not stand a chance against Hajoon. He almost feels relieved when he knows her perfect hunting instincts are assorted to the bodyguard's. There can never be too much protection for his wife. Still that man, as any other, close to his wife is a set back. She takes his hand and he smiles, relieved for now.
"Thank you, Mio." He hopes this includes the request for her to tattend the funeral with him. He rests his other hand on her shoulder, his thumb risking a brush against her the unclothed collar, eyes following the line the parts her hair, for the care he cannot give just yet.
"So how was your night with your substitution Valentine? I missed you. I burnt down the candles," but there is no candle scent in the appartment, "I ate the lovely dinner I made for two", but he does not cook if not for her, with her around, "and I pulled apart the red rosses petal by petal." Lies. The bouquet was the only of the the three of them which had the chance to rest on the bed. "I despise Valentine's day just a bit more this year."
@ahn dohyun ⁹⁶ "I will go to you," is what Dohyun says, and Mio has to fight back the urge to say, 'The dead cannot go anywhere.' It is a promise guised as a threat. Instead she chooses to stay silent, knowing that he would only continue to entertain his best friend's wishes for as long as he can, testing Mio's patience along the way. And she prides herself in being a patient woman — it is a necessary trait to have when one has her line of work, but she can only tolerate such insolence for so long. Once again, he claims to understand her point, and yet deflects it all the same. It truly is an irritating dance between the two of them, and her hand itches to take everything under her complete control, where it should be.
"You say you know, and yet you do not act like it. How am I supposed to believe something so empty?" she says, almost as though chiding a child, as if he isn't older than her by a couple of years. This man is much more stubborn than her past husbands. At least the first two are predictable, easy to read, easy to plan around — but Dohyun is a wild card, she thinks to herself, and she is still uncertain whether or not this man will become a foe in the future.
Not that it matters. She will ensure everything is under /her/ control.
She merely glances at his hand for a moment, before she raises her hand, placing it above his palm. It is barely a hold, but more so like a soft touch, digits tracing the lines in his palm until she reaches his fingers. She keeps her gaze there, and she speaks, "why do you go so far to protect her?" for she truly cannot understand it. It isn't as if she has to abide by what he's asked of her, either. She already knows that Go Hyori has in fact landed back on the Korean soil the day of Go Jihyun's birthday — and coincidentally, her own death day as well. Dohyun alone gives away that fact, and that only gives her enough knowledge of what may have possibly transpired during her absence.
But of course, she has no evidence. The most she can do is plant doubt.
Lifting her gaze, she meets his eyes. There lies, 'do you think you are trustworthy enough?' in her eyes, but she does not vocalize it. Instead, she heaves a soft sigh. "I will entertain your request only this once — only if they do not ask me about her."
@kurosawa mio ⁹⁶ No matter how clear it is in his head, Dohyun, three years of experience in being a husband to Mio, knows he cannot protect his best friend. If he so much as sides with her, he is dead meat, possibly literally. Still, when she speaks of mourning, mocking sinisterly her all time enemy, Dohyun’s interest is caugh. What follows is just ironically easy to counter. Dohyun’s lips quiver, ineluctably curling at her exemple because yes, Mio does not come when an ex of hers asks for comfort over her break ups. Dead men never ask for comfort from their ex post forced breakup by sentencing them to soil and worms, indeed. His amusement now can only mean he entertains a very wicked thought and that is enough he figures. When they are home, alone, he never shies from referring to the murders, even less from assuming she might have done it when his investigation had proved evidence was insufficient to condemn the woman who would later be his wife. Twice. “Mio I get it. I won't expect you to come to me if we ever break up and I need comfort. I will go to you.” He needs to ruffle his hair, something he hates to do to the styled bangs but her iron will to campaign against Hyori no matter what is at stake is a beautiful and highly disturbing thing to see. Dohyun often wonders if he should worry how dangerous the situation would get if she ever let go of that self control.
She marches to him and Dohyun does not trust the poker face, his eyes are hers, his pulse still rushes in such moments. No matter how he holds her at night, how she indulges, sometimes her gaze is right in-between ‘I will devour you without even touching you’ and ‘bang, you’re dead’. This is one of the times. He lets her hold his chin, knowing her skills could get him killed in a few different ways just as they are now. The proximity imposes him to not be fooling around, but he cannot see quite what gets her to move so boldly to him, forcing him to focus on her as if it was any change from what he’s only concerned with: oh, Mio. She is /all/ he sees, but he doesn’t say it. She needs more than words she may mistake as empty. He swallows just about when her hand reaches to hold his jaw. A joyful mix of anxiety and attraction for his wifey dearest, the hands that were once flat on the armchair curl to not grab her arms. He is surprised to find himself chanting in his head, that it is okay. Sometimes he fears her. More often than she would know, he fears her.
"I know." He voices, speaking made uncomfortable by her grasp. But he won't fight her not on this.
He lifts one of his hands to her cheek and he brushes, gentle caresses and eyes into hers, tender, as if to tame her. "Believe me there is no way on earth or in hell I would jeopardize your freedom, put you anywhere close to a court, no matter the reason." He pauses when she retreats, eyebrows furrowed weakly when his eyes drop to her nose, lips, neck but it is clear he is troubled.
"The interview should not include anything about the next day, we don't need to mention it and we don't know why it is of any importance. I am not asking you to lie to detective, just to let it play out for now. While this may be nothing I will look into it. Still at the end of the day, if you cannot keep quiet about that meeting, I would still spend a week on my knees waiting for you to give me your hand in marriage. All over again." He stands, tall before her and offers his hand, palm up. "For once I will ask you to not kiss me. For not think of it as doing me 2 favors. Those things go both ways." A deal, not so far from the reason why they are wife and husband. If this works, the Prosecutor knows he will owe her big time and it would later lead him to a position more uncomfortable than the ghost of his fingers restraining his jaw.
@ahn dohyun ⁹⁶ At the mention of Hyori knowing her boundaries, Mio simply has to laugh — which she does, full of ridicule. Her chin tilts upwards, and the look of amusement painted over her visage is unmistakable. The flames of her anger are the most evident in the hard gaze that she sends toward Dohyun's way. "Does she, now? I am entirely uncertain of what kind of boundaries you are telling your friend, Dohyun. I, at least do not mourn on the anniversary of a breakup like your friend does every year, and I certainly do not come when an ex asks for comfort over a breakup with /me/."
She then stands from her place, and walks toward her husband's seat. Placing a hand near his head, she takes hold of his chin — not that this is a necessary step, for she is all too aware that he will not look at anyone else's way, not when she is here right in front of him. But she needs him to understand what it is that she's trying to say, and where exactly he and his dearest /friend/ (it still takes a conscious effort on her part not to call the pest what it should be called) have gotten it wrong. "Do you truly not see how... strange the two of you are? You are no longer dating. You've even gotten married to different people! And yet you come to her side as how a lover would, comforting her when she is still clearly clinging onto you? Do you truly not see my point here, Ahn Dohyun?"
The requests take her aback, and she isn't certain whether she wants to laugh once again or let this fuel her anger even more. Instead, her hold on his chin spreads to his jaw. "And why, pray tell, do you think I will lie about Go Hyori's whereabouts when asked?" she asks, as though genuinely curious about what prompted this request toward her, about Go Hyori of all people. "You know very well I do not care about that woman or whatever happens to her. If you did not want me to know, then perhaps you should have hidden her better." She lets go of his face and steps away. "And if someone has already seen her other than me, then you should know that this is an even more futile attempt of covering her tracks up."
@kurosawa mio ⁹⁶ He suspected his wife had more than bumped with Hyori earlier and she was now checking the facts, looking for discrepancies, a slippery path. She makes a point he cannot argue, because he too had considered calling Hyori’s husband to the rescue. Every year on Valentine's day, he wondered if he would still be a good friend for drawing the line in the sand. But his share of responsibility in Hyori's despair was impossible to ignore though hard to explain. She nearly scolds him and he does not flinch, avoiding her eyes and thus accepting her words silently. He would have cut his losses at that, begged for forgiveness if she did not have to sprinkle some salt into the open wound and that was blessed bread from heaven. Not even the errand boy Hajoon to the rescue, this time it was Hwang Eunhye: the best friend.
"Feels a bit rich that you would ask me to not assist my friend after admitting you ran straight to yours. Since we dated, yesterday as today, your arms are still all I ask for." He can reveal his weakness so easily because it has always been like this, him baring his feelings and heart for Mio. As if his many confessions to her rare reciprocity were not part of their frequent arguments, as if he wasn't the only one assuming they ever dated, as if it did not hurt him to keep extra distance with his best friend on the anniversary of their break up. "You still come first. Say the words and I will be with you, no matter what." He dares her to ask him to stay, to need him like he needs her shamelessly, like Hyori needs him a little from time to time. "But as you would do for each of your best friends, I run to mine if they are not feeling so well. And believe me she knows the boundaries, I remind her too much." There is complicity in his smile, as much as he does not take part in the women's bickering, he does side with the one he married if there is a competition, no question asked. "Look I am sorry if this made you feel like you were a second choice, you are always my very third choice." It is a little too soon after Valentine's day to be into those I love you me neither jokes, but Dohyun hopes he exhausts her so that he may hold her when she goes for a nap.
"I'm happy you were nowhere near, my dear Valentine." He comments, eyes studying her enough to be looking for a confirmation that she was indeed far from the residence. That she had nothing to do with the passing of some girl in their building. As much as he would reasonably think her capable of such an act for her own reasons, Dohyun ignores the spark for investigation and focuses on his demands. He waits a little, letting his eyes take in her looks. Her gaze feels less murderous and he does not know for how long this will last. She would rather bury the Hyori matter, or bury Hyori, probably, Dohyun has to get her blessing on a couple more matters following the passing of her niece. "The timing is unfortunate but I am going to ask a bit more from you: One, you have not seen Hyori, she is only landing in a few hours. Two, I would like to pay my respects to her family, at the funeral, with you by my side. Three, if you refuse any of these, you have to kiss me. A kiss for each refusal. Refusal to kiss me still means you have to kiss me.” This prosecutor nevers fools around, obviously.
@ahn dohyun ⁹⁶ Dohyun's response, though already expected, still appeases Mio's anger — albeit only a little, not enough to completely calm her fire. Although it may not be shown visibly in her visage, her gaze is as dark as her mood. No games, he says, but still the answer confirms her initial suspicions. And she does not like that fact at all. "And she couldn't have, say, contacted her /own/ husband to pick her up? As far as I'm aware, it is not your responsibility to go to her beck and call, Dohyun," she says, poise unchanging, though her tone becomes firmer, eyes narrowing.
The question only manages to make her close her eyes, and she heaves a sigh. "Esther's arms are far more attractive than a husband who would leave everything at a moment's notice at another woman's benefit," she answers coldly, before opening her eyes to meet his gaze once more. It is a question he throws her way, and that is the answer she returns with, knowing full well how this will make him feel — and that is exactly what she aims. She does not take kindly to having the pest be chosen at such a quick moment's notice without even hesitations.
But she takes in his apology, her visage softening compared to moments prior. She isn't jealous, no — but what she dislikes is that this is Go Hyori. Perhaps she may have accepted it a little better if it were anyone else (though that does not mean to say that she will be more merciful, for she is not fond of contracts being broken). "I would prefer if the pe—/your friend/—" and she says those words with obvious disdain that she does not even bother hiding, "—learns where her boundaries lie."
Indeed, however, the worst has happened last night, though she truly cannot spare even another inch of care toward the death of a girl she doesn't particularly know. "I'd have to say, I was quite lucky to be out last night then, since the party has turned quite... the sinister route."
@kurosawa mio ⁹⁶ Hours of the evening, night and morning, had Dohyun think of what he should be telling, a full speech as one would expect of a Prosecutor with his prior experience as a Lawyer. Yet when he hears the tiniest noise in the silent apartment, his memory vacuums, wife magic, safe key in his desk drawer. And even without much of a strategy in mind, he walks out of his office corner to meet her in the living room, expecting her cold treatment like he is standing under dark grey clouds after a suffocatingly humid evening, waiting for rain. Instead she radiates the same energy that probably filled the universe before suns were born, caustic gas, the kind that would atomize your lungs in the snap of fingers, but its colors and shape prettier than human perception could ever capture, a nebula for him alone as long as she is with him. Fascination is all over his face, because she is angry and he still thinks he has a pulse despite the daggers she throws at him, her temper from the previous day only stronger. Dohyun dares to think the arms she tried to find solace in did not quite do the job, he ignores her comment about the eve, the most important being that it’s still their communication that may change her mood.
She sits on a chair she makes throne by her presence alone, conducting a morning interview that against all odds feels like a prosecution. He would be in the hottest spot if not for the text Hyori had sent him earlier, mentioning Mio and her had met, probably the reason why the room smelt like barbecue though nothing was getting torched aside from his guilty conscience. “Mio. No games. I went to the airport since Hyori flew in earlier. She was in no state to go home so I made sure she was okay before I left her.” The safe card excludes the details of his best friend’s drunk texts, the history of Valentine Days conversations and arguments building up to the eve’s breakdown. Mentioning he paid for her hotel suite without much of a thought feels like oil and the fire is dangerous enough already. He keeps his compelling arguments in case the situation really turns sour.
“Care to tell me what place felt more attractive on Valentine's night than the bed you usually share with your husband?” Eye for eye was really what it could come down to. But Dohyun does not seem to expect any answer and instead he sits across from his wife, in a similar chair, feeling less confident than she looks. He keeps his hands still on the armchair, his gaze on her. “I am sorry I was out for so long yesterday, I still made it for the party. I told you I wanted to be with you. The only reason why I did not tell you what it was about before leaving was to get a chance to give you more than rushed apologies. But I can tell you how I feel about whatever that emergency was about, not that is much different from last year’s.” With that he sighs, eyes eventually rolling to the less grey clouds outside. “Things turned for the worst yesterday night I heard. I am glad you are back.” He still comments, grateful and fully aware his soft comments would reach her, with persuasion, hopefully before she would be interviewed for he had to ask her to protect no other nemesis than her own, his best friend.
@ahn dohyun ⁹⁶ Mio's mood has already been low since the morning of Valentines, and it has simply gotten much worse when Dohyun left without telling her what it was for. She isn't one to celebrate holidays herself, no — her lovers were commonly the ones who would celebrate it. She has no particular care for such things, but this time, the knowledge or the possibility that her husband may have decided to go to a certain pest's location is more than enough to irk her immensely. It is irrational, she would say had this been any other circumstances. Kurosawa Mio is not one to lose her cool even at the face of the most unexpected twists, and yet Go Hyori manages to so easily chip away her patience.
She can only be patient for so long. It is quite a feat to bother Mio as much, even if it is not necessarily something she likes to admit. Her pride simply does not want to let her accept the fact that person like Go Hyori is able to shake her composure like this.
Walking through the lobby, she is well aware of the stares of those present that steer away from her direction almost immediately. She supposes her aura is not as amicable as it would be usually (though she has never been /that/ easy to approach in the first place), and yet she does not heed it any mind. It is a little past afternoon when she arrived back at The Perseus, and yet she is already beyond tired of continuing throughout the day just from a single interaction with the sole pest in her life.
Upon reaching her floor and entering her shared unit with Dohyun, she does not so much make an unnecessary noise. She lets the door close behind her with a quiet thud, easing out of her heels as she places them neatly to the side. Despite her irritation, it would simply worsen her mood had she left a mess in her angry wake. She finds Dohyun almost immediately as she enters deeper, and an eyebrow quirks up, almost surprised, but questioning. "Oh?" she says, tone in a mockingly amused tone. "I had assumed you'd have gone somewhere else. After all, you did so easily leave yesterday."
She places her purse on a nearby coffee table, and sits on the armchair near it. She places one leg on top of the other, interlacing her fingers with one another above her thighs. Her eyes flicker to meet Dohyun's. "Well, shall we play a guessing game where I try to find where you went yesterday, or would you be a dear and offer me that information yourself?"
@kurosawa mio ⁹⁶ Dohyun had watched the sun set with his best friend, on valentine's day. It did not feel wrong, because Hyori needed not just her best friend, she needed to be with someone who cared and sometimes, Dohyun was not sure it was his place to call for his cousin, her husband, to the rescue. The husband being the reason why things turned so sour would have probably turned all that alcohol delirium into impulsive decisions that would leave scars on their family.
Dohyun had watched the sun rise with no sleep in between, from their bedroom window, a warm pastel paint for him alone to see. And each minute of it free for his imagination to guess just how long his wife stayed with her friend, how early into this day he had called for Hajoon, because the man and her were close, closer whenever he would see them, or he, maybe, refused to admit just how close they had always been. But now it was all he could think of. She was looking for revenge for his absence on valentine's day and he felt a bit helpless about it. That holiday came around every year with enough reasons to be ignored. He wished that holiday would not be a rimple in this relationship /too/.
Later on he showered and sat at his desk, hands doing the case reviewing mechanics, face turned to pages, paper sounds and clicks on his computer mouse but nothing was coming into his head to stay. It was in and out instantly, three letters alone standing out of words as he would imagine obsessive disorders would be li. They were the bold three, the elusive three; his thoughts, Mio, his hopes, Mio, his mood, Mio. Even the announcement of the tragic passing of Hyori's niece had gone to background noise. He would catch up with Hyori later, when his wife would be back and safe, home. Ahn Dohyun asked little of his wife in exchange for his love, he asked her to be his wife, His. And all night outside, he was not sure she was, not until she would be back and his heart would forgive all if he held her. He knew he did not deserve such a treatment but at least she escaped rather than killing him. An upset Mio was a strike toward termination he liked to think, smile sinister. She still resorted to other means of revenge and he would live another day, somehow better than both her previous unions.
He checks his phone for nothing again, but nothing came in and he would not ask. Sending a text asking her about her whereabouts always looked like the transcription of the questioning during the early days of each of her ex-husbands murder trials. He owed her more: he owed her to personally ask, without a record of it. He owed her the sarcasms, the passive aggression and in the end, the apologies. Because no matter how he cared for his best friend, she was never supposed to come in between them, nothing was supposed to come in between them, he had promised that to her on their wedding day. He owed Mio so much. He left his chair to pace, unconsciously spinning the golden key of his safe on its ring around his finger. He needed to think of how to defuse the argument before it would be one, because now even more than the previous day, he needed his wife. He needed Mio and he could not tell her why.
