Chapter Twelve

42 9 17
                                    

TW: SA


Beomgyu stares blankly at the white ceiling above him, unable to focus on anything at all. His mind has shut down completely, leaving him in a state of perpetual zoning out. It's as if he doesn't realize what's happening. He can feel Seiji's hands against his wrist, pinning them down above his head. He can hear Seiji's heavy breathing amidst his haze, and feel Seiji's body pressing against his own. It feels too unreal to him, like watching it happen to someone else.

But he isn't watching it from the outside. He's in the middle of it, and yet he's somewhere else entirely. His mind seems to disconnect from his body, and he feels almost numb when Seiji uses the pad of his thumb to wipe a tear that had unknowingly fallen from his eye.

He doesn't feel the pain that should be coursing through his body, or the terror that should be consuming him. Instead, he feels a strange sense of detachment, like watching the scene from behind a thick wall of glass.

It isn't until Seiji pulls away, flipping over and laying on the bed beside him, that Beomgyu finally starts to come back to himself.

Beomgyu feels an overwhelming sense of both shame and embarrassment. He feels violated in the most possible way imaginable, and as though the last ounce of dignity he had left has been stripped away from him. The shame is compounded by the fact he failed, by being unable to defend himself and by placing himself in a vulnerable position to begin with.

The room grows eerily silent, every breath echoing in the stillness. Seiji reaches past him, grabbing the handcuffs of the nightstand and reaching for Beomgyu's arm.

He shakes his head, pulling his arm away. "Seiji, please," Beomgyu looks up at him with pleading eyes. "I won't try anything, I promise."

There's a moment of silence between them as Seiji's eyes scan his face before sighing, tossing the handcuffs back onto the nightstand. The sound of the metal hitting the wooden nightstand shatters the silence, his whole body jolting and heart pounding like a hammer inside of his chest.

Seiji wraps his arm around Beomgyu's waist, pulling him closer until his head is resting against Seiji's chest. That's when the pain finally hits him. A sharp, piercing pain radiates throughout his entire body. His ribs feel like they're on fire, and every breath comes out at a ragged gasp that makes his chest ache even more. He can feel the puffiness in his face, no doubt swollen and bruised. As much as he wants to move, to make the pain stop, he finds himself unable to even lift a finger. He's held in place by the relentless agony that seems to consume his very soul.

Seiji delicately places a hand on his shoulder, "Shh, it's okay," he whispers in a soothing tone. "Are you hungry? I can make you something to eat." He offers, moving some of Beomgyu's hair out of his face.

His body and mind are so exhausted that he's barely able to move, simply shaking his head before letting out a shaky breath. A wave of nausea crashes over him at Seiji's touch. It's as though his touch is a disease, spreading through his body and attacking him from the inside. His skin crawls, stomach churning as he uses every ounce of his strength to hold down the urge to vomit.

He dreads Seiji's touch more than anything else in the world, and each time he closes his eyes, praying for it to stop, but it never does. Seiji always seems oblivious to his distress. Beomgyu knows he's trapped, forever stuck with a man who claims to love him, but whose touch makes him want to die.

Every bit of hope that he had for being found has vanished, his hope and spirit slowly ebbed away. Seiji has devoured his will to live entirely. His dreams of being rescued have been replaced with the fear of dying alone. With each passing day he can feel himself slipping away, hoping that each day is his last.

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