My Forbidden Fruit - Choi Beomgyu

Chapter 11

Kang Hana's POV

When Beomgyu ushered me into that cramped space, I have to admit, my claim of having zero feelings for him might not have been entirely truthful. Pinned against the wall, our bodies almost touching, I felt a surge of warmth that had nothing to do with the physical proximity. I found myself breathless, struggling to keep my composure. 

Guarding my heart through all the hardships life had thrown at me, it felt like Beomgyu was slowly dismantling the walls I'd built. Left alone in that cold, dim room, it resembled the oppressive darkness of my childhood home—no hint of sunlight, just encroaching shadows. His departure echoed the disappointment I often saw in my father's eyes, a stab to my rotten heart.

After spending nearly 10 minutes in that confined space, I decided to leave and retreated to our shared suite. The realisation of how deeply I had wounded Beomgyu hit me when I saw glistening tears in his eyes as he walked away. Avoiding eye contact, I cautiously entered our suite, knowing that facing Beomgyu now would only intensify the ache.

I entered my room, gently closing the door behind me, and slumped onto the bed. Pulling the cold sheets over me, I sought solace in their embrace, neglecting to remove the dagger and gun still strapped to my waist. Unbeknownst to me, exhaustion claimed me, and I drifted into sleep.

The harsh words echoed in the kitchen, "You little bitch," my dad spat out as his hand rose to strike my mom, who desperately shielded me behind her. I was a sobbing mess, unsure of how it all began. 

It had seemed like an ordinary day at school, but upon returning home, shattered plates and glass greeted me. In the kitchen, my mom clutched her arm, blood seeping from a fresh cut. My father remained oblivious to my presence as my mother urgently signalled for me to escape the scene. Disregarding her plea, I rushed to her side, kneeling in front, securing a makeshift bandage from a piece of cloth in my bag. 

Suddenly, a forceful kick landed on my back, causing me to collapse onto my mother, who enveloped me protectively. Her tears dripped onto my hair and forehead, and my face pressed against her chest, allowing me to feel the frantic rhythm of her heartbeat. 

She shielded me, shouting words that were incomprehensible as my father continued hurling objects at her. Seeking refuge, I darted beneath the dining table, pressing my hands to my ears, and squeezing my eyes shut in an attempt to block out the chaos. I wished fervently that it was all just a dream, but the sharp pain in my thigh from a piece of ceramic shattered that illusion. 

Eventually, I managed to slip away upstairs, making my way to my room with quiet steps. I closed and locked the door behind me, sliding under the covers, desperately trying to ignore the throbbing pain in my thigh. 

Just when I thought the ordeal was over, a loud banging echoed on my bedroom door. My mom tried to restrain me from opening it, but it was too late—I confronted my father, who held a knife in his hands.

I snapped awake, my body drenched in sweat, heart pounding in my chest, and my mind tangled in disarray. It had been ages since I last experienced that haunting nightmare. Fumbling in the darkness, I reached for a glass of water on the nightstand, but it eluded my grasp. Shaky, I rose from the bed and stumbled my way to the kitchen. 

Attempting to calm my frayed nerves, I sipped on a cup of warm chamomile tea, but the unease lingered. Seeking solace, I headed to the balcony, only to find it already ajar. Hand on the hilt of my dagger, I scanned for any signs of an intruder. My gaze flickered to Beomgyu's room, slightly open. Pushing the door, I found it empty.