his true self

1- bruised

03:22 blinked the digital clock on the nightstand in stark, unyielding digits, casting an eerie glow in the dimly lit room. With a heavy sigh, you peered into the darkness, the absence of his familiar presence weighing upon you like a heavy blanket.

But after all, you were not surprised. It was nothing new. Like his absences had become a haunting ritual

He would come home late, covered in bruises or blood, crawling under the covers next to you when you would be already sleeping and gone again when you would wake up.

Whenever you dared to inquire, ask him about his whereabouts and state, he would offer naught but evasive reassurances, urging you to drop the topic, to cast aside the heavy worry that coiled around your heart. And though you couldn't just drop your thoughts like he told you to do, you still swallowed them down, a bitter draught, in deference to the trust you held in him, in the fragile sanctuary of acceptance you'd crafted together for his absence. For him.

This whole thing had been since one year. And now that you laid there, you didn't know how long you could still handle it. It was always the same questions running through your mind.

What was he doing out there?

When would he come home? Or would he even come home?

Would he be hurt again?

Was he cheating on you?

Why wouldn't he tell you what was going on?

No matter how much you loved him, the worries build up in you and got you sick. Not only mental but also physically. You couldn't handle it anymore.

With each passing night, the weight of these unanswered questions grew, a suffocating burden tightening around your heart. All these worries were driving you crazy. And not just mentally—physically too. You couldn't handle it anymore.

So you turned on the light and grabbed your phone.

It was a sure thing that he wouldn't pick up now, but you still tried it. Like every night.

No answer.

As the seconds ticked by, you knew there was only one course of action left to take. Though the hour was ungodly, though the world slumbered in blissful ignorance, you knew you could always count on him.

You knew that he was the only person that had a chance to knew what was up with Hyunjin.

"Y/n? Why are you still awake?", he asked as soon as he picked up.

"I could ask you the same", you mumbled and continued talking, "Can I come over?"

"Well, I suppose-..."

"Please", you cut him off, "I can't do this anymore, Felix"

Felix sighed with a hint of resignation. "Just drive carefully"

"Thank you", you said and hung up.

Snatching your jacket and slipping into a pair of shoes, you fled into the night, the cool and silent embrace of the night air a balm to your loud worries. The journey to Felix's house passed in a blur of streetlights and whispered prayers, each passing mile drawing you closer to possible answers.

Why you called Felix? He was both yours and Hyunjin's best friend. When you got together with Hyunjin, he introduced you to him after a while. Ever since then, every time Hyunjin wouldn't come home or you'd just need to talk, he would be there for you.

But there was something weird about him. He was never surprised when you told him about Hyunjin's absences or how he'd come home all bruised up. Yet, he never accused Hyunjin of cheating either. It was like he knew what was going on with Hyunjin. Like he knew the truth.

So now you would try to get him talking. At all costs.

Arriving at Felix's doorstep, you knocked with a sense of urgency, the sound echoing through the silent night. When he swung the door open, you enveloped him in a tight embrace, seeking comfort in the warmth of his presence.

But as you pulled away, your gaze caught on the bruises on his face, a mirror image of the wounds you had grown accustomed to seeing on Hyunjin's face.

An ice-cold shiver raced down your spine.

Whatever used to happen to Hyunjin now happened to him, too.

He had to know what was going on. 

He had to know the answers.