TANTIANA UNIVERSITY | RED

CHAPTER 19: FRACTURED PROPHECY

The whole night felt unnervingly off. It wasn't the kind of creepy or eerie vibe that kept him on edge—it was something far more unsettling, something that gnawed at the edges of his consciousness. Donghyuck couldn't shake the feeling of unease, like an invisible weight pressing down on his chest that refused to lift, no matter how much he tried to escape it.

The word she had spat at him echoed in his mind, replaying in a never-ending loop, digging into his heart deeper with every cycle. My soulmate...

It wasn't the kind of phrase that should hurt. In fact, it was supposed to be comforting. But hearing her say it with so much pain—resentment even—pierced through him like a blade, and he couldn't escape the truth it held. He knew it wasn't just about the bond they shared; it was everything that led up to it. Everything that built the invisible walls between them.

He couldn't breathe properly. His chest felt constricted, and every time he closed his eyes, tears would well up, only to fall helplessly onto his pillow. He didn't want to cry—he didn't want to feel that weak—but his body refused to comply with his wishes. Donghyuck was restless, tossed between fits of exhaustion and torment, the kind that kept him sleepless in the dark.

When he did manage to sleep, it was only for 2 to 3 hours before the shrill sound of his alarm dragged him back to reality. The morning had come far too soon, and with it, the weight of everything still pressing down on him.

The walk to the university felt like a marathon he wasn't ready to run. His legs felt like they might give out at any moment, and his body was drained—empty. He could feel the exhaustion etched on his face; his lips were pale, and dark circles hung under his eyes like bruises.

Donghyuck tried to hide it all. He threw on a hoodie, hoping it would shield him from the harsh gazes of his peers, but he knew it wouldn't be enough. People, brave enough or curious enough, still invaded his personal space, poking and prodding with questions he wasn't ready to answer.

"Did something happen?" Jeno's voice cut through the fog of his thoughts, his tone firm, demanding an answer.

"Maybe," Donghyuck muttered, his gaze glued to the page of his book, even though the words blurred in front of his eyes. He wasn't reading. He wasn't even trying.

"Care to share?"

"No," he replied flatly, shifting the book to the next page with no intention of actually reading it.

It was frustrating, how easy it was for Jeno to read him. But Donghyuck didn't have the energy to hide it anymore, to act like everything was fine. His mind was practically shut down, his eyelids heavy, threatening to close any second. He leaned his head against his hand, struggling to stay upright. His body kept betraying him, the energy drained from him more than ever.

Donghyuck cursed under his breath. He couldn't focus. He couldn't think. His body was betraying him, and there was nothing he could do about it.

"We'll just leave this activity as your assignment," the professor announced, and the class let out a collective sigh of relief.

"Nana is planning a dinner; he wants to bring you, Mark, and Ji," Jeno said, already packing up his things. "You brought your car, right? Do you mind if you—"

"I'm not going," Donghyuck interjected, cutting him off as he closed his bag with a grunt. He could barely stand, let alone go out for a dinner.

Jeno's brows shot up in surprise. "It's Nana's treat."