for you page × chensung

fifteen

[ a broken angel still has wings, they just need to relearn how to fly ]

It's said that people see red when they become angry. Jisung didn't see red when his fist connected with Jeno's perfectly sculpted nose. Not at all. He saw the concerning purplish hue of the bruises on his brother's face and the pink burn marks welted on his arm. He saw the speckled gray carpet where Jaemin sat helplessly on his knees and the black hair Jeno held possessively in his grasp. The rage flowing through his blood was 95% adrenaline and 5% overwhelming shame, and it made him swing harder, faster at Jeno. 

Jeno recovered quickly from the first hit, and despite the blood pouring from his nose like a clotted river, he was defending himself well. He was better at hitting than protecting, Jaemin knew. Hell, he was the reason Jeno was as skilled at fighting as he was, but Jisung was mad. More than angry, he felt guilty, and nothing was more powerful than guilt, not even Jeno. Jisung's eyes watered as he threw punches wherever he could reach. Jeno's ribs, arm, and face were all feeling the extent of Jisung's helplessness. 

The fight moved from the dim hallway to the living room after a rough shove from Jeno that sent Jisung tumbling through the doorway. He barely managed to catch himself on the couch before Jeno was tackling him to the floor and laying hits all over his body. He desperately tried to escape, chest heaving beneath Jeno's built body but had no luck. Jaemin was screaming for Jeno to stop in the background, clawing at his t-shirt and pulling on his arms. 

"Jeno, stop, please!" Jaemin wailed, grabbing at any part of Jeno he could reach. "Stop, you'll kill him! Please, please, please, Jeno, please." Jeno didn't stop, and Jisung could feel the adrenaline draining from his body like a busted dam. His eyes rolled back, and Jaemin screamed louder. "Stop! Kill me, not him. Kill me, Jeno!" He sobbed, pulling at his hair and weakly hitting Jeno's shoulders. 

"I should kill him," Jeno said. "If he's dead, then you'll be mine, all mine." He wrapped his bloodied hands around Jisung's throat and squeezed. Jisung scratched Jeno's wrists with his blunt fingernails, kicking frantically to try and shake him off, but Jeno wouldn't budge. 

"If you don't stop, I will call the cops," Jaemin choked out, finally gaining some sense of composure. The tears still soaked his cheeks, but he was confidently holding his phone in one hand while the other shook by his side. 

Jeno glared at Jaemin and wiped the blood from his knuckles on his shirt. Jisung was almost certain Jeno would tell Jaemin to shut up and beat him until he was dead, but he stopped. Jisung feared Jeno stopping more than he feared his beatings. Because if he stopped hitting Jisung, he would hit Jaemin again, and Jisung would endure a thousand punches to ensure Jeno stayed his problem. 

Jeno grabbed Jaemin's wrist and dragged him to the doorway, leaving Jisung coughing and broken on the living room floor. Three months ago, they played Monopoly huddled around the coffee table, and now Jisung's blood left Jeno's handprint on the lightened wood. His body ached from head to toe, and every move made his head spin, but he refused to leave his brother. Jisung pulled himself to his feet and stumbled through the living room to his bedroom. His phone was at 13%, and he dialed 911. 

Ring, ring, ring...

Jeno's phone buzzed in his jean pocket. They were two flights away from the entrance to Jaemin's apartment building, and Jeno's phone hadn't stopped ringing. He shoved Jaemin against the wall and reached into his pocket with a huff.

"If you move, I'll go back upstairs and kill your fucking brother. Got it?" Jeno spat. Jaemin nodded, and Jeno walked to the platform to answer the call. He could faintly hear snippets of Jeno's conversation with who sounded like Mrs. Lee over the pounding of his heart. He wanted to run upstairs and hold his brother until they both melted into the floorboards, far away from abusive exes and bloodied knuckles. Mainly, he just wanted to make sure that Jisung was conscious before he was hidden away again for an indefinite amount of time. 

"Mom, please. Jaemin and I will visit, alright? We've been busy." 

Jaemin scowled and dug his nails into his palm. His body felt like a weighted blanket, crushing the pieces of his soul that remained intact, and he was losing control. Jeno ruined his life. He took his happiness, tried to murder his brother, and still dared to call his mom and say they would visit. He was a vile, useless monster, and Jaemin would rather die than succumb to a world revolving around Jeno. 

He tiptoed towards the platform, taking each step as if he was navigating a sea of glass. Jeno was engrossed in his argument, pacing the edge of the platform and kicking his foot against the wall. He cursed at his phone and paused in the center, right in front of the stairs, and Jaemin lunged forward. Jeno tumbled down the concrete stairs with his mother still screaming at him on the phone and landed in an unconscious tangle of limbs at the end. Blood was dripping from his forehead, and his arm was bent at a nasty angle that would probably require a cast. 

Jaemin didn't give a damn. He stared and stared at Jeno's mangled body and smiled. He smiled so hard that his cheeks hurt, and all his teeth showed because he was free. He was fucking free from Jeno, and if that freedom came at the price of handcuffs and a prison sentence then so be it. 

_______________________

Jisung hobbled down the stairs, clutching his bruised side with one hand and keeping a death grip on the railing with the other. He heard something, somebody falling down the stairs from the apartment, and panic was strangling his heart. The stairs were nothing to laugh about, especially in their apartment building. It was almost 20 steps each flight, all made of solid concrete. 

One time, Jisung tripped up the stairs coming home from dance class and had to get stitches for the massive gash on his knee. If Jaemin fell down those stairs… He'd rather not think about it. 

His legs were jelly and his head spun on each step, but he plowed on. 10 steps, 9 steps, 8 steps, 7 steps. He saw the shadow of a figure through his blurry eyes. 6 steps, 5 steps, 4 steps. He recognized the huddled form and almost started bawling. 3 steps, 2 steps, 1 step. 

Jaemin was always pretty to Jisung. He had the model face, the beaming smile, and silky hair. But the most beautiful thing about his brother was his love for life, despite how awfully life treated him. He treated every moment of every day as precious, even while he was poor, or the light bill wasn't paid. Jisung remembered the first month they moved into their apartment and Jaemin couldn’t afford the down payment and the light bill. They spent an entire month with sugar cookie scented candles as their light and made a giant fort that spanned the entire apartment. Jaemin kept Jisung distracted from the darkness for 30 days with playful jokes, giant forts, and the park next to the complex. 

Now nothing could have kept Jisung distracted from the battered body of Jaemin’s ex-lover laying at the bottom of the stairs. Jaemin noticed him staring and smiled. He was glowing. 

“Jisung, I’m free,” he said, and the handcuffs clasped around his wrists.