Guide To Surviving Prison Is Getting Screwed By General Lily! [BL]

Oren looked at Seo for a long moment.

He had met many people in his career. Difficult people, dangerous people, people who looked one way and were something completely different underneath. He had learned to read rooms and situations and faces with the kind of accuracy that came from years of paying attention.

But he had not encountered anyone quite like Seo Jihan.

Not because Seo was the most dangerous person he had met. But because Seo was dangerous in the specific way of someone who had decided that wanting things was enough justification for pursuing them, and had built an entire pleasant, harmless exterior around that core belief and was living inside it very comfortably.

A pervert psychopath with broken glasses and a LEGO box.

He had been standing here trying to decide what to do with that information and the answer was becoming clearer the longer he stood in this gym at midnight looking at Seo’s open, expectant face.

He grabbed the door handle.

He would have said something. He had several things he could have said. But the last time he had tried to establish any kind of authority in an interaction with Seo, his head had met a wall and his hair had been grabbed by a person who weighed considerably less than him.

He lowered his head slightly.

"I apologise," he said. "But I want nothing to do with this. Any of it."

He opened the door and walked out.

He did not wait for a response.

.

.

The gym was quiet.

Seo sat on the bench and stretched both arms above his head and looked at the ceiling.

He was not surprised. He had not expected Oren to say yes tonight. He had not even expected the conversation to go the way it had gone, with Oren admitting things out loud that he had clearly been keeping carefully behind his eyes for a few days.

That had been more than he expected, actually.

He pushed his glasses up and thought about the look on Oren’s face when Ruaan’s hand had landed on his chest. The red. The ceiling stare. The jaw.

Oren liked Ruaan.

And Oren had almost, in the gym, said something to Ruaan about Seo before the door had opened. Which meant Oren was a problem that needed managing.

He thought about Ruaan. About how Ruaan had tried to help tonight, genuinely, with the hand on the shoulder and the introduction and the wink before leaving. Ruaan had no idea. He was standing in the middle of several people’s complicated feelings about him and moving through them completely unaware, trying to do nice things for his friend.

That was Ruaan.

Honest and unbothered and completely blind to certain things.

Seo needed to stay close to him.

He needed to be inside Ruaan’s space, inside his daily life, where he could see what was happening and manage what needed managing and be present enough that Oren couldn’t get to Ruaan without going through Seo first.

He needed to be somewhere specific.

He thought about Ruaan’s room and smiled slowly.

"I’m so glad I’m bottom ten," he said to the empty gym.

He stood up and left.

.

.

Sunday arrived grey quietly.

The facility did its weekend thing — laundry running, hallways being swept, small groups sitting in corridors talking about nothing in particular. The kind of day that had no agenda.

Ruaan was not having breakfast with Cullen.

He had decided this before he opened his eyes. The top three had come to his door already, which was new and slightly alarming, and he had told them through the closed door that he was not coming and he had left.

He wanted to find Harolin.

He had spent all of yesterday specifically not finding Harolin because every time he thought about it his face went red and his brain supplied several images he had not asked for. But yesterday was done and today was different and the truth, which he admitted only inside his own head, was that he missed him.

He had missed him for one day.

He pulled on his black uniform and checked the key around his neck and went out.

A few prisoners in the corridor looked at him as he passed. He could hear the words without needing to hear the specifics. His name. Cullen’s name. The Caldwell name, which meant the news had circulated, which he had expected but still felt like a cold cloth on the back of his neck.

He turned the corner toward the officer’s corridor.

He nearly stepped on a foot.

He looked down.

A body on the floor. Pressed against the wall at the base of the corner, like someone had been dragged there and left. He stepped back and looked at it properly and his heart did something loud.

Clothes ripped at the collar. Bruising visible on the arms and the jaw. Broken glasses lying two feet away with a new crack across the other lens.

"Seo?"

He crouched immediately. He put his hand on Seo’s shoulder and said his name again and Seo’s face was slack and pale.

There was blood at the corner of his mouth and Ruaan sat there on the floor of the corridor and said his name again with more urgency.

Nobody else was in the corridor.

He pulled Seo’s head off the floor carefully and put it on his knee and sat there with him and waited till help arrived.

.

.

Thirty minutes later, Seo’s eyes opened.

He looked at the ceiling first. Then at the wall. Then up at Ruaan’s face looking down at him.

"Where am I?" Seo said. His voice came out rough and thin.

"You’re safe," Ruaan said. "Don’t move yet. What happened?"

Seo tried to push himself up and immediately made a sound that meant his whole body had opinions about that plan. Ruaan told him to stay down. Seo ignored him and kept pushing until Ruaan gave up and helped him sit upright against the wall.

Seo touched the side of his head and looked at his hand.

"I don’t remember much," he said. "Some guys from the corridor. They grabbed me and pulled me around the corner." He stopped.

He pressed both hands over his face.

His shoulders shook once like he was crying.

Ruaan leaned forward and put his arms around him and said nothing because there was nothing useful to say.

Seo pressed his face into Ruaan’s chest, with his shoulders still trembling.

His expression, hidden against the black uniform fabric, changed immediately.

It changed into the expression of someone who had just confirmed that a plan was working.

He made his shoulders shake once more for good measure.

The hug broke.

He wiped his face with the back of his hand and looked at the floor.

"I’m scared to go back to my cell," Seo said quietly. "Since the game. My cellmate has been making things difficult. And now this." He looked at his hands. "I don’t know what they’ll do next."

Ruaan rubbed his chin.

He looked at Seo. At the bruises. At the broken glasses.

"Why don’t you move in with me then," Ruaan said.

Seo looked up. "Move in? Is that even allowed?"

Ruaan folded his arms. "I have no idea. I didn’t read the rules. But even if it’s against something, I can talk to Harolin and sort it."

Seo looked at him. Something in his expression was very soft and very warm and completely genuine, which was the most dangerous kind of expression Seo had.

"You’re really close to him, aren’t you?" Seo said.

Ruaan scratched the back of his head. "Haha. Well. I’ll talk to him. You get cleaned up and move your things by evening."

Seo’s face opened into a full smile. "Thank you, Ruaan. You’re a lifesaver."

Ruaan stood up and helped him to his feet and tried not to look too pleased about having done something useful.

.

.

Oren was coming out of the secretary’s corridor when Harolin came around the opposite corner.

They nearly collided. Harolin stepped back and Oren did the same. They looked at each other with the mutual acknowledgement of two people who did not particularly like each other but were professional about it.

Oren had a folder under his arm. Harolin had a document in his hand.

They would have separated immediately.

"Just a friendly advice," Oren said.

Harolin looked at him.

"Keep an eye on Ruaan," Oren said. "There’s someone close to him who shouldn’t be. An enemy in disguise..."

Harolin said, "What does that mean?"

Oren said, "Find out for yourself."

He walked away.

Harolin stood in the corridor and looked at the document in his hand. It was a proposal to the director, suggesting that the weekly game be changed to biweekly. He had been thinking about the advantages and disadvantages all morning. The director might agree and at the same time, he might not.

He looked in the direction Oren had gone.

Then at the secretary’s door ahead of him.

He needed to get this handled quickly.

He moved toward the door and knocked and heard the voice inside say come in and he put his hand on the handle.

"I need to go see Ru after this," he said to himself quietly.

He pushed the door open and stepped inside.