Placebo || 3Racha ✔️

25

My shoes come off easily once I step inside. It felt nice to be home at a decent time again. I see Jisung look over, not too focused on his movie.

"Hey, Binnie," he grins, bouncing over to me. "What do you want for lunch? I got groceries today, so anything you'd like, I can make."

I kiss his neck. "Just some noodles. I don't want anything special."

"Okay," he smiles, kissing my head. "Oh, by the way, you have some mail on your desk."

I tense at the sentence, my breath catching in my throat. The red envelope flashes before my eyes. He's back. He's out. Nothing will stop him. He's going to kill me.

"Hey, hey," Jisung whispers, pulling me out of my head, "it's just a bank statement. It's okay. He's gone. You don't have to worry."

I swallow thickly, nodding at him. I don't meet his eyes. How could I think such things? I watched him be taken away. He's gone. It's so stupid how I can barely talk about the mail without getting triggered.

"Look at me," he demands softly. I do. "Have you been going to your sessions?"

"Yeah," I croak out. I have. It sucks. Having to relive everything takes a toll, but I guess it makes it better that I know my boys are safe.

"Good. Maybe that's another thing you should talk to her about. Triggers. It's important."

"Okay, I will."

"Don't look so grim. Chan is going to be home soon. You'll feel better when he gets here. You wanna go lay down for a bit while your food cooks?"

I nod.

"Alright. I'll come in with you after it's done. We can watch a movie in there. Nothing wrong with lunch in bed." He looks at me with pity in his eyes. Sympathy. Worry. I know those looks.

They have been trying to take care of me more since they found out everything. I don't blame them. I realize the emotional damage. My mental health has never been great, but now? Fucking hell.

I'm trying to be better. I'm trying to see the light while standing in the dark. I'm trying so hard. Going through something like this makes me want to lay in bed with them and never leave. I want them by my side at all times. The worry I experience when I'm not with them isn't normal, but it's to be expected.

I'm fucking traumatized.

As I lay in bed, I stare at the ceiling. Pictures, memories flash through my head. I close my eyes. Don't think about it. It'll make it worse.

Maybe we should move. Get a new house. We're only renting this one anyway. We can afford to buy one. After our lease is up, we can leave and never come back.

A yelp from the kitchen makes me jump up and sprint to him. He whips around to me, immediately apologizing. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I splashed the hot water on me."

I embrace him, burying my head into his shoulder. We hold each other tightly. I try to breathe calmly, needing to settle my racing heart.

When everything was going on, I didn't worry this much. Why was it worse now? Because I didn't know at that time he was in my house? Now I know he can probably get in some other way. I don't believe jail will hold him. That's what scares me.

"Shh, it's okay. Deep breaths. I'm here," he reminds me, making sure to kiss my head.

_____

•Merry Christmas!•