It Ends with Us • Kim Mingyu

[four]

I'm really sorry it took so long T.T Thank you so much for waiting and for all the reads and support! Love yall sooooo much ririfisiidig

Enjoy <3

***

Throwing her head back, she shrieks with an immense amount of incredulousness, as though she's genuinely amused to see me.

"Why're you still alive?! You were supposed to be dead." She exclaims.

"Don't sound so disappointed. I might think you don't like me."

"I don't like you." She rolls her eyes.

"Yeah, you love me." I say nonchalantly, as I take a seat beside her.

"Gross, go drown in the sea of your own unworldly stupidity. You'd do everyone a favour."

"Haha, as IF."

She purses her lips, but it's not a display of splentic emotions. In fact, she's trying to smother a smile. An actual smile.

She freaking likes me.

"But no, really. How are you still alive? That bullet was a limited edition. I spent an entire year's salary to buy that. You were supposed to die in a matter of seconds." Remarks she.

"Yeah? I guess I got lucky." I say, rubbing my nape.

"Lucky . . ." She repeats and sighs. "Some luck you got there."

"I was in a coma for almost 4 weeks and barely made it, if that makes you feel any better."

She shakes her head. "You shouldn't have come here. You bring shame to my life-long career, my original career. I have never once failed before you, you know." She tells with a slight chuckle, mockery towards herself capping her words.

"Why'd you do it, anyway?" I whisper, more serious than I intended to be.

"It's not easy to get rid of all those years of hate and resentment at once, Miyeon. I tried, but I was already too possessed by it to let it go,"

Her voice grows softer, and gradually the seriousness intensifies, until it evinces in tiny glimmers at the corner of her orbs.

"I know it's not enough, but still. I am sorry I repayed your kindness like this."

An indefinite heaviness lifts off my chest.

"It's okay." I say, and then the whole room falls in silence. Not just in words, but in any sense of emotions as well.

She studies me, long enough to show her disinclination.

"I did horrible things to you."

"I know."

"I can't ensure you that I don't want to do it again if I have the chance."

"I know."

"I can still slaughter you here, right now."

"I know."

"Don't you see? It's not okay, it'll never be okay because I'm a fucking monster."

I turn my head slowly side to side, denying. "It is okay, trust me. It's not great. It's not good. It's not bad. It's just okay," I say. "You were suffering too, so was I. We both needed to put the blames for that suffering on a certain someone, and I think we're not at a fault for doing it. How can it be our fault that we wanted to have it a little less hard on ourselves, if not let it burn us to the ground. But you know where we really went wrong?