The Untouchable Prince | A Norenmin FanFiction

五十九

Fifty Nine
Updated: January 10, 2022

Author's Note
Once again, minor mentions of self-harm, so please either skip or read with caution. Stay safe!

Dragging himself to a stand, Minhyung dismissed his servant, refusing the offer to clean his bloodstained hands. Washing it off wouldn't make much of a difference anyway. The guilt that he hurt his fiancé would still be engraved in his heart. No matter what he decides to do to clean it off, it will forever be there, branded into his being, into his soul. There will be no escaping this guilt, and Minhyung did not plan to escape.

Like the undead, he heaved himself in the direction of Donghyuck's room. Why? He didn't know. Maybe he just wanted some closure, some kind of confirmation that there was a possibility that he saw wrong, that maybe Donghyuck didn't injure himself.

But, the entire way there, his eyes, which were pinned to the floor, noticed droplets of a dark red liquid about shoulder-width away from another trail of droplets, creating somewhat of a staggering path. And, to Minhyung's anguish, it led straight into Donghyuck's room, which its door was left slightly agape.

Stepping up the concrete stairs, the hairs on his body stood up. He paused for a moment, just standing in front of the door. A trail of blood ran out from the inside. Donghyuck seemed to have had a long pause right as he left—there were two puddles of blood just in front of the threshold.

When Minhyung's gaze lifted up, he swallowed hard. On the wooden door frame was a bloody handprint that slid down about ten to fifteen centimeters, creating a long streak.

He placed his own blood-covered hand on the print, and as he suspected, the hand was smaller, belonging to his fiancé. He left it there for a moment, staring silently and biting his lip. Then, he pushed the door open, chuckling in denial as he slid into the room.

Inside was an even more horrifying scene.

Instead of a neatly organized and clean room, everything was scattered about and splotches of blood were scattered all over the floor and all over the beautiful mahogany table in the middle of the room. Someone had gone mad in here, it was clear. The chairs were flipped, edges covered in bloody handprints. There were crumpled up sheets of paper covered in blood as if someone had tried to write a letter, only to not feel satisfied with the outcome and give up.

Minhyung gingerly picked up one of the papers and uncrumpled it, flattening it out in his hands. The words were illegible if it even was meant to be a letter. Random strokes of red filled the page along with a deep red splotch in the middle as if the person purposefully bled over the page, erasing whatever was drawn or written underneath.

Minhyung opened up several other papers, and each had a simpler pattern of red blood. Some had words, but again, the words weren't even words, just characters and syllables. Nothing made sense. It was madness.

But, Minhyung seemed to understand. He understood it all: each stroke, each character, each splotch of blood. The emotion, the pain, everything. To him, in a way, Donghyuck seemed to say that he wanted to kill him. What Minhyung saw in this room, in each bloodied sheet, was a heartbroken prince, who wanted pain. In who? Minhyung only understood it to be both he and Donghyuck.

Yet, underneath all of this anguish, all of this anger was fear. There were spots on the papers where there were no colors, just a wrinkled round section.

Tears.

They were tears of fear, regret, anxiety, abandonment, loneliness.

Of course, Minhyung knew that the reason was because of him.