I Don't Understand But I Luv U - Kim Mingyu FF 💎 (Slow Update)

17.

In the midst of the tension-soaked room, where the air crackled with the aftermath of a confrontation, Wonwoo's voice cut through like a plea for sanity. His usually reserved demeanor was replaced with a sincerity that spoke volumes.

"Let's stop this war between us, please," Wonwoo implored, his voice carrying a weight of longing and weariness. His eyes, usually calm and collected, betrayed a hint of vulnerability as he gazed at the members of both groups.

"Enough of this fighting! Why can't we be like before?" he continued, his words echoing with a sense of nostalgia. "We always fought with the rivals together... why does it have to be between us?" Wonwoo's eyes glistened with unshed tears, a silent testament to the pain that the division between the two groups had caused.

In that moment, his plea wasn't just a call for ceasefire... it was a yearning for the restoration of a bond that had been fractured by circumstances beyond their control. Wonwoo, who often chose silence over words, had broken that silence to voice a sentiment that resonated with the shared history they had all once cherished...

The silence that followed Wonwoo's heartfelt plea was laden with unspoken emotions. Each member of both groups felt the weight of history, the echoes of a time when they were more than just rival factions. The bond they once shared seemed to linger in the air, a ghost of the camaraderie that had been lost. The unspoken truth reverberated — the trust issues caused by Kim Samuel's manipulation had severed the ties that bound them. The wounds inflicted by betrayal ran deep, casting a shadow over the possibility of restoring the friendship they had once enjoyed. The memories of laughter, shared moments, and the camaraderie that existed before the betrayal lingered in their collective consciousness.

The bitter irony lay in the fact that none of the groups had actually betrayed each other. The deep-seated mistrust and enmity that had festered over the years were rooted in misunderstanding and manipulation, all done by Kim fucking Samuel.

If only they could see through the web of deception that had been spun around them. If only they knew the truth — that Seventeen had never been their enemy, and never betrayed their trust. The realization that they had been pawns in a larger game, their once unbreakable bond torn asunder by someone with their own agenda, was a bitter pill to swallow. But as the wounds of the past were too fresh, and the scars too deep, it would take more than just the truth to heal the rift that had formed between them. Rebuilding the trust and friendship that had once defined their relationship would be a long and arduous journey, one that would require time, effort, and a willingness to let go of the pain of the past.

For now, the room remained shrouded in a heavy silence, the unspoken longing for reconciliation lingering in the hearts of those who had once been friends. The path to healing was uncertain, but the glimmer of hope remained....

RM's command, though strained with the pain of his gunshot wound, echoed through the room.
"Seongcheol... Go back home with all" His words cut through the heavy air, carrying both authority and a plea for peace. The members of Seventeen looked at each other, the gravity of the situation sinking in.

Seungcheol, despite being the one who had pulled the trigger, felt a surge of guilt and responsibility. RM's words, though met with shock, resonated with him. He couldn't leave his once-friend in this condition

Addressing Jeonghan, Seungcheol said, "Jeonghan, please take Mingyu, Yn, and Wonwoo home. I'll come later with the rest of the members." His words were resolute, a testament to his commitment to setting things right.

He turned to Jungkook, his voice strained but firm, "Bring me the medical toolbox." It was a silent acknowledgment of the wounds they had inflicted upon each other, both physical and emotional, and a small step towards reconciliation.

Jungkook swiftly brought a nondescript box, its contents telling a tale of countless times it had been used to tend to wounds inflicted in the line of duty. Seongcheol opened it with a practiced ease, revealing an array of supplies that would be foreign to anyone unfamiliar with the clandestine world they inhabited.

Sterile bandages, antiseptic solutions, and even small surgical tools were meticulously organized within the box. They were tools of survival, instruments to ensure that the scars of their dangerous lifestyles didn't become fatal.

Seongcheol directed RM to sit on the couch, his movements deliberate and efficient. Despite the fraught history between their groups, the unspoken understanding of shared danger and hardship now manifested itself in this moment of care. The lines between allies and adversaries blurred, if only momentarily.

RM winced as Seongcheol examined the gunshot wound. The pain was a reminder of the harsh realities they faced, a reminder that the battles they fought were not just strategic maneuvers but encounters that left tangible marks on their bodies and souls.

As Seongcheol worked, his hands steady and experienced, the room fell into an uneasy silence. The members of both groups watched, each lost in their thoughts, contemplating the fragility of their lives, bound by a code of secrecy and loyalty that set them apart from the ordinary world. Jungkook and Taehyung took charge of attending to Jin and Jimin. Jin winced as Jungkook carefully examined the gunshot wound on his leg. In the hall only sounds were the hushed voices of those tending to the injured. Taehyung, with a steady hand, assisted Jimin.

As Hoshi and Dino joined Jungkook and Taehyung in providing medical assistance to Jin and Jimin, the room became a silent tableau of shared concern and responsibility. The wounds of battle were being tended to by hands that, not long ago, had been engaged in combat against one another.

Hoshi physicality served him well in this moment as he carefully assisted with Jimin's wound. Dino, the group's youngest member, showed a level of maturity and composure that belied his age as he worked alongside Jungkook, ensuring that Jin received the best care possible.

Vernon, with a sense of heavy responsibility, supported Seungcheol in the treatment of RM's gunshot wound. Their actions spoke louder than words; no one needed to voice their remorse or regret, for it hung heavily in the air.

The misunderstanding, the mistrust, and the manipulation by outsiders had driven a wedge between two groups that had once been like family.

Despite the absence of words, there was an unspoken yearning for reconciliation, a desire to return to the days when they had stood together against common foes instead of each other....

*******

The car moved through the night, the hum of the engine the only audible sound in the heavy silence that hung over the occupants. The city lights outside the window blurred into streaks of color, mirroring the whirlwind of emotions within the car.

Mingyu's arms were a protective shield around Yn, providing a fragile sense of comfort in the aftermath of the chaos they had just experienced. The bruises on his face mirrored the internal wounds, both physical and emotional, that the night had inflicted upon him.

Jeonghan, hands steady on the wheel, focused on the road ahead. His face betrayed none of the turmoil he felt inside. The responsibility of driving them back. He stole glances at Mingyu and Yn through the rearview mirror, a silent acknowledgment of the shared pain they carried.

Wonwoo, in the passenger seat, was lost in his thoughts. His gaze was fixed on the passing lights, but his mind was undoubtedly replaying the events that had transpired. The echo of gunshots and the tension in the air lingered in his memory, a stark reminder of how fragile their lives had become.

Yn's tears fell silently, her eyes glazed with a mixture of shock, fear, and disbelief. Her world had unraveled in a way she couldn't have anticipated, and the trauma clung to her like a heavy cloak. Words seemed inadequate in the face of such violence and betrayal.

As the car continued its journey, each passing streetlight cast fleeting shadows on the faces of its occupants. The city outside might have been bustling with its oblivious activity, but inside the car, a profound stillness enveloped them. The road stretched ahead, an uncertain path reflecting the uncertainty that now clouded their lives....