The silence that followed the slammed door was much louder than Yujin's shouting had been. Jin stayed pressed against the wall for much longer than intended,his back against the cold,dirty brick where Yujin had pinned him moments before. He didn't reach for his throat, but he could feel the phantom pressure of the Director's leader-clad fingers still lingering there. Instead he let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding – a jagged, sharp sound that quickly became a low, breathless chuckle
He looked down at his hands. They were steady, calm. Unlike Yujins. Jin pushed off the wall and walked towards his workbench, his movements feline and deliberate. He picked up the charcoal fabric Yujin had caught – the one the director had claimed ''didn't excuse a breach in the social order''. Jin ran his thumb over the weave. He had seen the way Yujin's pupils had blown wide, the way the gold had flickered with disgust. ''Permanent flag.'' Jin murmured, followed by a scoff. He didn't look like his creation had just been flagged, he looked like an artist that had found a muse, a hunter who had found the trap's trigger. He'd called a gold-eye a gilded and a crowborn, which was the truth that so many Golds refused to accept. And instead of a history lesson about the importance of respecting the hierarchy, he had gotten a physical reaction. He hadn't just defied Yujin's authority – he had broken Yujin's carefully crafted mask.
Suddenly a smell of cigar, and bourbon fills the air. Shin steps out of the shadows of the studio. He walks over, his dangerous red-wine eyes never leaving Jin's. ''My house is not your home, Shin.'' Jin grumbles, yet can't help but grin when he sees this strong and fierceful man, standing in his small studio. Shin lets out a low chuckle, a rumbling sound that fills the quiet room. He doesn't answer — his eyes land on the angry handprint on Jin's neck. ''Who touched you..'' Shin growls, stepping closer, his fingers hovering over the red handprint. ''Some Gold, he flagged my material.'' Jin grumbles, avoiding Shin's piercing gaze. Shin tenses slightly, before his fingers carefully lift Jin's chin up, like it's the most fragile thing in the world. He doesn't speak, which sends a sudden shiver down Jin's spine. Shin just stares at the handprint, like he's trying to erase it, his eyebrows furrowing slightly.