Yoon Bum x Reader: Mindfuckery

Chapter 12: Punishment

"Uh..."

It was the first time in quite a while that Yoon Bum's mood had turned on its head like this. He had gone from praising your loyalty to doubting its existence entirely in a mere instant. According to your observations thus far, these shifts tended to only render him self-depreciative, not suspicious, and were always tied to his projection of either real or imaginary abandonment. This case put you in a rather sticky position because it comprised of both... For a moment you became Lady Macbeth, and you had to hastily cleanse the imaginary blood from your hands in order to atone for your past mistakes.

'Unnatrual deeds do breed unnatural troubles...'

"Why was it there, F/N?!" He demanded again, hysteria building. You winced, trying to act casual despite your rising guilt. Did you feel bad about what you had done? No. However, you certainly weren't innocent of the crime he was accusing you of. You had put it there for your own self-defense, but you knew he wouldn't believe that now. Hiding a weapon from your lover had ulterior motives written all over it, especially when stored so surreptitiously beneath the bed you shared.

"Y-you remember that morning you brought me breakfast in bed? ...It must have fallen down there and we forgot about it."

"Huh..." His face softened at your explanation but then snapped back immediately. "N-no! You knew it was there though!" Betrayal flickered across his eyes. "You went straight for it!"

'Shit!'

"Bum..." You calmly placed a stabilizing hand on his shaking shoulder. "I... only... noticed it last night when I drunkenly crawled out of bed. I must have forgotten about it until I saw you in danger. Then my instincts kicked in and I suddenly remembered it was there."

"Oh..." Bum's default mild tone finally returned, though his expression still remained ill at ease. But that could just as easily have had something to do with the bloodied corpse of his dead relative laying less than a foot away. You picked up the knife to examine it and Bum visibly flinched backwards.

"I just killed someone to protect you and you're seriously afraid I'll hurt you?!" You gave him a hurtful look and flung the knife down the hallway to prove your point.

"You're right... I'm sorry..." He crawled forward and hugged you again. "Thank you." He said in earnest and you felt a wave of relief wash over you.

"You're welcome." You rested your chin on his shoulder in exhaustion, and from there you caught a glimpse of the dead man's eyes, still open. "What are we gonna do about him?" You both puzzled for a moment. You knew with your broken legs and Bum's frail stature, there was no chance of inconspicuously moving a dead body that size.

"We... should probably clean up the blood first. Then we can figure out where to move him."

"Okay."

"Uhm... I'll go get a sheet to wrap him in. And uh... I think there's bleach in the basement. I'll meet you down there." Something made you hesitate. Bum's tone had wavered. Was it just now setting in that he was part of a murder? Or was there something more lurking behind his words? It didn't make sense that he would send you, a cripple, down a treacherous set of stairs when he could retrieve the cleaning supplies himself.

"But... with my legs..."

"I know, I'm sorry." He made a sympathetic face. "It's just that the floor cleaning machine is really heavy and I can't push it up the stairs by myself..." He cast a remorseful gaze away from you and you couldn't curb the wave of dread that came over you. Did you just hate the basement that much? Or was Bum acting as incredulous as you suspected? Then again, perhaps everything appeared more menacing to you when covered in freshly spilled blood.