DLMLU

Why Can't You Hate Me?

A/N- read at your own risk. But please if its triggering, I'm sorry. I really based this on one of my experiences when I first ever did such a thing.

☆ミ　☆彡

My parents were right? I'm not cut out for this stuff.

I won't be loved.

Kissing him was wrong... but it felt so right...

Holding him was wrong... but it was so warm.

Everything was wrong... but what if that was right?

My parents were right... could they be wrong?

I hated myself... that was one thing of which, he was sure.

Breathe... No one isn't hurting you Minho.

"Why! Why would you joke like that?" Minho finally snapped the moment Jisung pulled his shoulder aggressively. it triggered a minefield as he flinched throwing his hand up like he was defending himself, smacking his hands away, Minho then shoved Jisung into the wall. One hand wrapping tightly wrapped against his neck as he bit the inside of his cheek.

"Don't touch my like that... Ever... Again." Minho spit out, his words laced with venom. His mindset now was nowhere in the right place. he growled. He watched as if the light left Jisungs eyes, widened at the contact. It was like he was shocked how quick Minho reacted. he was abused by his father, manipulated by his own mother, traumatised at the orphanage. Minho wasn't letting himself be harmed like this again. the few seconds of blacking out his hand released from Jisungs throat, coming to a realisation he would end up killing him if he didn't let go.

"I-I Mi-Minho..."

"Never ever grab me that way. Let me remind you that what you do to me, I won't hesitate to do back. I wasn't joking..." he scoffed, masking a fake smile. it was sinister looking. the more he made Jisung hate him the better. the sooner he didn't get involved with minho, the safer he would be.

"Sorry..." Minho gritted his own teeth, his nails dug into Jisungs upper arm.

"Now that we're clear, don't approach me again. Clearly, we aren't meant to try this friendship shit. I'm done trying to believe you or anyone else's words. So just leave me alone."

That's right Minho, run away and cower in fear of being actually treated tenderly.

Minho turned away heading to the bedroom and slammed the door shut. His composure way out the window, he almost fell to his knees choking on his own breath. The memories of his father beating him till he passed out started to play through him like a cinema. but it wasn't one he could stop. it kept spinning, moving forward in his mind. he couldn't manage it. Felix wasn't here to go to this time. He held his head as is body began to involuntarily tremble. His fingers running cold. He seethed in pain as his chest heaved. He didn't want to feel any more. What did he mean when he said Minho wasn't in the right mindset? Was It bad? Did he do something wrong. Of course, he did. All Minho wanted was Jisung to make him feel safe. Was this not how you do it? He started feeling more insecure about the way he talked. More and more feeling himself slip. He slid down the door unable to hold himself upwards any longer.

Stop... Stop... Stop...

He reached for his satchel finding one specific sharp object. There was no way drawing or writing was going to save him this time.

I'm sorry...

One slice... he dug in deeply, ripping at his skin in his forearm. the only pain he could feel now was the blade puncturing the skin as he slid it downwards. Red beads falling from the laceration. Although it was like papercuts, it was jagged, rippled down his scarred skin.