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Summary
Joonghyuk pretends not to understand. “Fireworks would kill us.”
“Not the kind I want, they wouldn’t.”
“Debatable,” he retorts. Dokja seems closer than before and Joonghyuk realizes that he is. The man leans closer still. “Distraction equals-”
“Death,” He parrots Joonghyuk’s usual phrase with a roll of his eyes. His lips look pretty up close. Joonghyuk isn’t quite sure what it is to breathe— perhaps he’s already dying. “But a little death isn’t so bad, is it?”
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Yoo Joonghyuk and Kim Dokja are sitting on the roof of their latest haven, drinking idly as they face their own mortality.
Below them, a slowly growing horde of the undead.