| CHAPTER ELEVEN |
Minghao lays in his bed, breathing softly.
He hates nighttime. He has trouble sleeping.
All he can focus on is the cold beating of his heart, the need, the thrill to train even more, to get even stronger. Not even for the muscles, but for the intelligence in how to attack.
He's learned a few things. Seokmin and Vernon have been so helpful. And he's so beyond thankful for that. He doesn't know how he would've gotten around if it wasn't for them.
With a huff, he tosses the sheets off his body, getting up out of bed.
He finds himself in the practice room before he can think, he feet taking him to the boxing station.
He slides the gloves onto his palms, clipping them in place. He knew how tight to clip them together, he's gotten scolded so many times by Jeonghan that he's learned how.
He takes a deep breath, eyeing his opponent.
The dark red of the punching bag glares right at him, and he feels his chest light on fire at the sight of the color.
"M-MingMing."
Minghao freezes when he hears his father's choked voice from the other side, and it's then when he feels something wet coat his toes.
He looks down, eyes blown beyond any type of wide.
He lets out a high pitched cry when he stumbles back, shaking at the crimson that coated his foot.
He looks at his apartment door, heaving at the blood that began to run past the crack under the door, trailing inside the room as if someone had just spilled an expensive glass of wine.
Minghao bangs on the door harsher, "D-Dad open the door, open the door! Please!"
A pained groan, and Minghao cries.
Minghao's lip twitches, and he punches the bag hard, letting out his anger. His knuckles should hurt from the harsh punches he throws to the bag, but he feels nothing but victory.
His mind told him the bag was the one he needed to find. the killer. The one that murdered his father. The one that took away the only family member left that meant something to him.
He grunts, hitting it harder.
Minghao hears his father sigh, "I'm so sorry MingMi-"
"Stop calling me that." He can't take it anymore.
His father lets out a breath, "I'm sorry, I really am."
"Just forget it." Minghao shakes his head, cheeks numb to the tears that roll down his face, "Don't bother coming back."
Minghao grits his teeth, eyes glossy.
"You're dead to me."
Minghao shouts, throwing the last punch to the bag with a cry. He feels the tears fill his eyes, and his lip wobbles.
He's breathing heavily, clutching the bag as he slides down it, his tears staining the red.
He meets the floor, crying softly as he hunches over, feeling all the stress from the past two weeks finally catch up to him.
He allows the said stress to fall in the form of tears, trailing down his face just as quick as his heart beats.
His last words to his father stung his brain, and he wished oh so desperately that he had the ability to rewind time.
He could've been more soft, more gentle.
What he said hurt his father, and he knew it, but he didn't know those words would be the last thing he would ever tell him, and that thought will haunt him for the rest of his life.
He hates himself.
Minghao turns around when he hears a locker shut, sniffling at the sight of a silhouette. Only to slump his shoulders with a groan when the outline of the person blurs clear.
"What are you doing here?" Minghao wipes the wet trails under his eyes, sniffling.
Jeonghan shrugs, "Couldn't sleep." He walks over to the punching back just to the side of Minghao, throwing his towel down to pick up the glove box.
Minghao just looks at him with a sour expression.
Jeonghan just pays it no attention, pulling a pair of boxing gloves from out of the box, kicking the box aside as he pulls them onto his hands, clipping them in place.
Minghao sniffles, rising to his feet.
He rips the boxing gloves off his hands, throwing them into his own section's box, feeling his mind go haywire at the mere sight of the blonde.
He goes to leave, only for a voice to stop him.
"Why're you crying?" Jeonghan was looking at him, his face holding an expression Minghao couldn't quite pinpoint.
Minghao just looks at him, sighing, "What's it to you?"
Jeonghan rolls his eyes, "Forget I asked."
Minghao stands there for a moment, feeling a flare of guilt creep into his chest. Why does he feel bad for people all the time? Why is he so kind? He hates how he cares for others as much as he does.
"People have trauma." Is all he says.
Jeonghan turns around, "I know."
There's a soft silence, only the sound of the air conditioning humming through the room, Minghao and Jeonghan just looking at one another.
Jeonghan sighs, "Are you okay?"
Minghao just shrugs, defeated.
"I will be."
YOU ARE READING
THE8 | Junhao
FanfictionOn the outside, he's a cop. On the inside, he's loyal to the crime lord who took him in and promised him revenge on his father's ruthless killer. And maybe he finds a little love on the way. | based off the drama : my name | 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝘁𝘂𝘀 || compl...
