𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐎𝐟 𝐀 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐥 ♡ MinSung

Ch. 135

Minho wasn't mad at Jisung, no, he was just upset about the ending of their relationship—for good this time. He would be lying if he said he wasn't a little bitter towards Jisung.

Yes, he knew he had absolutely no right to be, but he felt betrayed. After everything they went through it felt like Jisung had chosen to give up on him so fast.

Even after Minho risked being disowned by his own father. Of course, it was unreasonable to think that Jisung was prepared to do the same thing, as they had different situations.

Jisung was closer with his father than Minho had been, so naturally he would have more of a connection that he would be giving up on if he chose Minho.

He felt like the victim in this situation even though everything was screaming that he wasn't. How could he have the audacity to act like he was the one hurt?

Minho got a sharp pain in his chest whenever he thought about Jisung's face, the way it had been contorted into pain and fear that things might actually be over, even though he's the one that chose to make it happen...

Minho just wanted to be the one protected for once maybe. Yes, there was a solid reason why he was always the one looking after Jisung, but maybe this time he could be the one to curl up and hide while Jisung fought.

But that was like saying that Jisung was never fighting this whole mess alongside Minho. The elder simply didn't want any part of it now.

He didn't want to be around Jisung anymore because it made him feel so fucking depressed. He wasn't allowed to give up now though, he still had to go through with the court dates.

Only then would he be allowed to pretend none of this ever happened. The sooner he started the faster he would heal from all this, right? And the same goes for Jisung.

Minho strongly believed that it was best for the two of them to simply split up for good. All of this had brought nothing but nightmares and attachment issues.

He thought about calling Chan but as soon as he picked up his cell phone he put it right back down. He didn't need Chris right now, what he needed was some fast relief.

He was tightly wrapped in his blankets right now with tears streaming down his pale face. It had been that way since he got home at 5pm—it was now around 8pm.

Shit was hard. And painful. It was his first real breakup after all so no wonder he felt like he was gonna die.

Why did he even like Jisung in the first place? Because he was cute? Kind? Smart? Pretty? Minho had no idea. Probably a combination of all those things and more.

He kicked his way out of bed, half expecting the floor to cave in and eat him alive, but it didn't. It was just a normal day for everyone else in the world.

Minho wanted nothing more than to feel a familiar rush of relief that he loved so much so he shuffled his way to the bathroom, brushing his hand over the top of his door frame and catching a small item he had stored up there.

A blade.

His eyes were drowsy and his face was tired as he looked in the mirror, immediately looking away. He hated his reflection when he cried, looking at it made him feel so weak.

He stood at the sink with a steady hand and guided the metallic blade over his skin. It had been a while since he'd done this so it only felt ten times better, releasing all his built up energy as the blood pooled into the drain.

After all, clean doesn't mean happy.

It was satisfying to see the scars form as the cuts healed.

Minho liked his decision, barely caring that he had to reset the app on his phone now. All that mattered in the moment was the pure bliss he felt as he punished himself for everything.

For every little detail from the start. The day that he refused to help Jisung get a teacher when JinYoung pushed his back into a locker. The same day he stole the diary.

The diary.

He never did finish that book, did he. Minho quickly bandaged up his wrist and pulled his sweater sleeve over it to make him feel better as the guilt of breaking his streak set in.

He rummaged around in his closet for a minute before pulling a small leather notebook out of one of his shelves. He flipped through it, more tears threatening his eyes as he saw all the notes he had put in the side columns.

The first ones in black pen were all negative, and then he had gone through and crossed them out in red pen, writing all the good things he found.

The last note he wrote was:

I'm sorry Jiji

Minho quickly grabbed a pen from his desk and used it to cross out the name 'Jiji' a million times, until the page nearly tore from how hard he had scribbled. Over the top of the black mess that used to be the youngers nickname he wrote,

Sungie

"My Sungie..." he whispered.