~ 𝕡𝕙𝕚𝕝𝕠𝕡𝕙𝕠𝕓𝕚𝕒 ~ (Minsung)

🔒Chapter 9 - Nightmares🔒

⚠️TW⚠️
NIGHTMARE
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3rd person POV:

Jisung tossed and turned in his sleep, the muffled echoes of screams tugging at the edges of his consciousness. His mind, still clouded by the remnants of his own dreams, couldn’t make sense of the chaotic sounds filling the air. They were distant and fragmented, like broken whispers slipping through the cracks of his thoughts. He couldn’t understand the words, but the urgency in the sounds was undeniable.

The noise wouldn’t stop, and Jisung’s frustration grew with each passing moment. His brow furrowed as he shifted in the bed, pulling the covers tighter around his shoulders in an attempt to block out the persistent disturbances. He even shoved his pillow over his head, hoping it would help, but it was no use—the sounds continued, clawing at his mind.

Sleep wasn’t coming back. Groaning, Jisung finally opened his eyes, the sleepiness still heavy on his eyelids, but he couldn’t ignore the unnerving noises any longer.

He let out a frustrated sigh, staring up at the ceiling, his mind racing. What was causing these sounds? His room was dark and quiet except for that eerie noise, and it wasn’t coming from outside.

Then it hit him.

Jisung’s heart skipped a beat as the pieces fell into place. Last night at the club, the things Minho had said… the way he’d been acting. And then, when they got back, Jisung had offered Minho a place to sleep in his room, wanting to be there for him. He had no idea what had really been going on with Minho, but something felt deeply wrong.

Suddenly, Jisung was wide awake, his pulse quickening. He shot a glance toward Minho’s side of the bed, and that’s when he saw it. Minho was tossing and turning restlessly, his face twisted in pain. His breathing was shallow and rapid, and his hands flailed out as if trying to escape something. His lips were moving, but the words were unintelligible, lost in a murmur of fear.

Jisung’s stomach sank as he realized the truth—the screams weren’t in his head. They were Minho’s.

Without thinking, Jisung reached out, shaking Minho’s shoulder gently. "Min… wake up. It’s just a dream," he murmured, trying to coax him out of the nightmare.

But Minho didn’t respond. He kept thrashing, his body jerking uncontrollably. Jisung frowned, his concern deepening. The older man was having a severe nightmare, one that was clearly affecting him deeply. His fingers tightened around the sheets as if trying to hold on to something, his voice rising in panic.

"Please… let me go…"

The words broke through the haze of confusion in Jisung’s mind, and his chest tightened with empathy. He couldn’t understand the full extent of what Minho was experiencing, but he knew it was bad. Minho’s nightmare wasn’t just something fleeting—it was real to him, and it hurt.

Jisung quickly leaned closer, trying again to gently rouse Minho. "Minho, it’s okay. It’s just a dream," he repeated softly, his voice reassuring yet laced with concern.

But it wasn’t working. Minho’s body jerked violently, hitting Jisung in the process, and Jisung found himself pushed back a little, a soft yelp escaping him as he tried to regain his balance. He winced from the unexpected shove, but his focus never wavered. Minho was still lost in his dream, trapped in whatever terrifying scenario his mind had conjured.