Alone {𝕄𝕀ℕ𝕊𝕌ℕ𝔾}

Chapter Forty-Five

MINHO TOOK A DEEP BREATH AS HE SAT ON HIS BED, STARING DOWN AT HIS SLEEVED WRISTS. HE BIT his lip, trying his best to ignore the trepidations of his heart as he gently, slowly pulled up his sleeve. He exhaled just as gradually as one scar after another appeared, until he'd finally reached his elbow.

His most recent wounds had already scarred over, and he turned his arm around, observing it. "You don't control me," he spoke softly, staring intently at the scars that just begged him to add on to. Shame. That's what he felt. Suffocating and relentless shame.

He knew if he gave in, the shame would go away for a little while, numbed out by the pain. But once the pain faded, it would only leave more remorse than it had originally taken away. "You don't control me." He meant it to more than just his scars.

He meant it to everyone who'd ever harmed him, to anyone who would harm him. Although he'd promised Jisung he'd come to him before he did anything rash, he'd also made a promise to himself. You will get out of this.

The feeling that blossomed in his chest was something unfamiliar; something he hadn't felt in a long while. Something he thought he'd never feel again; hope.

"Minho!" His mother called, and he looked up, before realization took over and he sprang out of his bed, hurrying down the stairs, pulling his sleeve back into place as he did so. Jisung stood at the front door, smiling nervously.

"As much as I love you, sweetie, hurt him and you're dead," she whispered, and Minho gasped. "Mom!" he exclaimed, and she backed away slightly with an innocent grin. "What?" He shook his head and grabbed onto Jisung's hand with a small smile before the two made their way back to his room.

His mother's smile grew as she leaned on the railing; she was finally starting to see bits and pieces of the person he'd once been, before what she'd come to know as depression grabbed onto him ruthlessly.

She'd never stop feeling guilty for not realizing what he was going through until it was too late.

~#~#~#~#~#~

Jisung plopped down onto the bed as Minho took a seat in his desk chair, awkwardly shifting around. The younger rolled his eyes slightly and patted the spot next to him. "Minho, come here," he whined, causing the brunet to blush slightly as he hesitantly slid out of his seat and sat down next to his boyfriend on the bed.

The strawberry blonde pulled him down and snuggled into his side, latching onto him like a koala. He'd never been happier that Felix took up so many extra-curricular activities. Where it once meant spending less time with his best-friend, it now meant spending more time with his boyfriend.

One day he'd tell Felix about him and Minho, he decided. Maybe when his friend wasn't so hateful of his brother. He couldn't imagine it going over well at the present moment. Felix didn't even know he was gay. He decided not to dwell on that, though, instead wanting to focus on the beautiful person next to him.

Minho settled for leaning against his headboard, smiling down at Jisung. This is nice, he thought as he shyly combed his fingers through the younger male's strawberry blonde hair. Jisung looked down, and noticed that one of his sleeves was slightly out of place.

"May I?" he questioned softly, thumb gently brushing over the clothed skin. The brunet's eyes widened, and he nodded hesitantly. Jisung's fingers treaded delicately over the discoloured flesh, as if he was dealing with a porcelain doll that would break with even the slightest wrong move.

He traced over every scar, a small frown pulling at his lips. Why does Felix hate you so much? He thought, a small sigh escaping him. Minho's eyes were squeezed shut, because he'd never voluntarily allowed someone to see his scars before; he'd never felt quite so vulnerable.

Jisung turned around so he now faced the elder, and his frown deepened when he noticed the tear slowly slide down Minho's cheek. He brushed it away, forcing the brunet to open his eyes. "Why are you crying?"

He shrugged halfheartedly, looking upwards as he blinked rapidly. "Never hide how you feel," he mumbled, brushing his bangs out of his face. He never thought he could ever be so serious about anything. Minho just did that to him, somehow.

"I just... don't want you to leave me," he whimpered, feeling the familiar bite of shame creep up behind him. Jisung gave him a small smile and shook his head. "Is that all you're worried about? Don't be silly," he chuckled his smile ever-growing.

"As long as I can help it, you'll never be alone." He'd never felt more determined and certain of a promise he'd made. Minho lowered his face into the crook of his lover's neck, breathing in slowly as he clutched onto him tighter. He felt as though he'd waited an eternity for this moment. For this person.

It was worth the wait.

Jisung was like the balm to his wound; without him, he'd struggle against the pain, but with his help he'd one day make a full recovery. As long as Jisung was there to save him from himself, he knew he'd never need a razor-blade to fill the void that had grown in his heart. Rain started trickling down on his bedroom window, and he closed his eyes, calmed by the tranquil sound.

Little did he know that the small rain shower would soon blow up into a raging thunderstorm.

A/N: We made it to standard novel length, my boos! Goal reACHED WHOOOOOP

I'm honestly not gonna know what to do when I finish writing this book, it's literally a part of my daily routine. But I should start working on one of my new fics so forgive me if updates get a tiny bit slower than usual for a little while, I gotta write up five chapters at once oOF 

Q: What other writing styles would you wanna try out in your upcoming stories? (courtesy of OCT0617)

A: HMMMmmmmmm WhAt A dIfFiCuLt QuEStIon. A style I find really cool is what I'm deciding to call the "flashback style", where the story is a retelling of the past, with small snippets of the present/future. A little spoiler for you all: there is a story with this style coming along moderately soon.... *cough* 

Lots of love,

~Junnie