❝ told you so ❞ ;; bbangnyu

❛ two ༉‧₊˚

chanhee's pov

exiting the theater, the echoes of his harsh words still reverberate within me as we navigate the bustling cinema lobby. conversations blend throughout the busy place, creating a symphony of voices. he didn't care to say anything yet, his eyes reflecting the lingering hatefulness and bitterness he had for me. surrounded by the vibrant energy of the cinema, the remains of an unsolved fight were masked with smiles and meaningless affection. as we move through the crowd, the aroma of popcorn and sweet treats fills the air, distracting me from the cold glares he gave. we found a cozy corner, where we could at least 'talk it out', so i sat beside him, not knowing what was coming.

"why'd you wear such short clothes?" he said, pointing out my choice of clothing. "do you want attention that bad?"

"no, i don't get what's wrong with my outfit." i shakily replied, not wanting to anger him more.

"you look like a slut," his eyes seemed to have gotten darker. "i don't get how you haven't been seeing the stares some guys have been giving you because of your outfit."

younghoon told me that a relationship shouldn't feel like your walking on eggshells all the time, that you shouldn't feel scared of your partner. i remembered him reaching for a shelf above my head, but i flinched when he raised his hand. he'd interrogated me for an hour that day, asking if juyeon hit me. of course i denied it.

younghoon got mad when he saw all of the bruises all over my skin. i reprimanded myself for letting the sleeves of my hoodie ride up. he reprimanded me for letting juyeon hurt me. i just nodded, but i didn't process any of his sayings.

juyeon heavily sighed, crossing his arms.

at that point, i was on the verge of tears. but by then, i was too tired to cry, i was too tired to put up a fight, even if his words burned and scarred me like a hot branding iron. because deep down, i knew that there was no chance that i'd make it out of there with no bruises if i fought back.

"why haven't you apologised for yelling at me earlier?" he asked, his expression changing to one of somber. "i'm still upset about it."

i couldn't help but feel bad for him. he didn't deserve to get shouted at and i fully deserved the hit that he gave me after.

"i-i'm sorry juyeon..." my voice came out hoarse, softer than usual.

"that isn't sincere enough," he reached out for my cheek, gently caressing it. "but i know something that could make it up to me?"

"what?"

"let's go to my house," he stood up. "i have an idea."

"okay." i quickly followed him after he started to walk towards the exit doors.

『 ↳✧･ﾟ t i m e - s k i p ;

i laid on the familiar bed, tangled up in the sheets which reeked of his cologne. i didn't want to do it and i didn't know why i let him do that. he told me he'd be gentle, he certainly wasn't, the pain was unbearable and he didn't seem like he cared if i told him. i tried pushing him off of me, yet he still didn't budge.

'you can go home or do whatever i guess.' he'd said before nodding off to sleep. i was still in huge pain, even if i drank some tap water from the sink. the house was quiet, as his parents were out of town and he was all alone.

i yearned for his soft touches and gentle whispers again. i missed the old him. the guy who was exceptionally caring and kind. i didn't know what happened to the old juyeon. in this situation, old juyeon would've given me a glass of water and a hot towel, he would've given me pain killers and lulled me to sleep. old juyeon wouldn't have done this in the first place.

i felt dirty to be there, dirty that i just forgave juyeon the second he told me that he loved me. and most of all, it felt wrong that i had just lied to younghoon, once again.

maybe younghoon was right about juyeon all along.

i had been just too naïve, but at the time, i thought that the way juyeon acted towards me was love. but i didn't want to increase younghoon's ego, knowing that he'd bring it up years down the line.

the wind through the window bustled in, giving me a shiver down my body as i tried to wrap the blood stained sheets around me as best as i could. i looked down at my discoloured skin, which used to be a clear, milky white, the scars of wounds from as recent as a week ago.

each bruise, scar and wound etched upon my skin reminded me of a juyeon that i didn't quite recognise. shades of purples, blues, and yellows painted a tapestry of aching and hurt. they bore witness to the moments when his hefty fists collided with my fragile frame, leaving behind the physical reminders of the pain i had endured. except, i didn't want to endure it anymore, but in the end, it wasn't my choice.

it was juyeon who decided.

younghoon told me that it was scary how i couldn't control my life anymore, and he was right, it really was. but another side of me reminded that i should feel safe in juyeon's hands, that if i didn't trust him, it'll ruin whatever we had.

for some reason, all i thought about was younghoon, what he had said, agreeing with every single word that i remembered. i switched my glance to the bedside table, my phone lying face down on the wood. i reached for it, ignoring the pain that i had in my joints, gripping onto the silicone case and bringing it to my view.

i quickly typed in my passcode and opened the kakaotalk app. when i caught sight of younghoon's contact, i couldn't stop myself from pressing the call button. as the buzz of the phone line sounded, i felt a few tears cascade down my face, if only if i had listened to him earlier.

younghoon had specifically told me that i could ring him whenever i needed someone to talk to. he never said that again. during those days of him picking me up in the early hours of the morning, he looked tired, dark circles accentuated his under eyes, his skin paler than usual and his figure slouched, barely keeping his eyes open.

suddenly, i heard background noises of people talking and a few laughs. the noises were crackly though, probably due to poor connection. that's when i remembered the time when me and younghoon fought over who had the poor connection on a call.

"hello?" his voice was a lot more of concerned than worried. "do you need something?"

"younghoon, can you please pick me up?"

i heard a 'younghoon, where are you going?' before a few sounds of movement and a final buzz, indicating that younghoon had ended the call.