19 | minsung

39

in the dimly lit room, only the moon's soft glow seeped through the window, casting faint shadows amidst the dust-filled air. the rhythmic patter of rain against the window provided a calming backdrop to the scene. han jisung sat on his bed amidst crumpled papers and dusty books scattered around him, some with torn pages.

dressed in the clothes his boyfriend had picked out, the blazer lay forgotten on the bed, covered in a layer of dust.

the room itself appeared abandoned, covered in layers of dust and a few cobwebs. aside from the essentials—a bed, closet, and study table—it was empty.

with clasped hands, jisung appeared lost in contemplation. earlier, minho had tenderly suggested they sleep together, but jisung had to decline, citing homework as his excuse.

he yearned to accept the invitation but feared the revelation of his true nature—his non-beating heart and other peculiarities—should minho ever notice. jisung's hug earlier had been a risk, yet minho always seemed to lose himself in the moment, oblivious to the truth.

raising his hand to his face, jisung exhaled, his brow furrowing when he felt nothing against his skin.

"i'm surprised he hasn't noticed," he murmured to himself, astonished by minho's obliviousness. minho hadn't recognized the lack of jisung's heartbeat during their embraces, the absence of jisung's warm breath near him, or his consistently cold touch.

in that moment, jisung yearned to be by minho's side, longing to cuddle the older to sleep. his heart—a heart that didn't beat—ached for moments both tender and intimate, desiring to share all kinds of affectionate and passionate moments with minho.

nonetheless, jisung found satisfaction; minho had successfully filled the void in his heart, the most crucial thing for him. however, he couldn't deny that he yearned for his heart to beat for minho.

running his hand down his face, jisung shifted his attention to the papers surrounding him. as his eyes fell on the dusty books, he felt the familiar surge building within him.

standing abruptly, he seized the books, violently tearing pages and hurling them around his room, releasing exasperated screams.

"YOU'RE THE REASON MY RELATIONSHIP WITH HIM IS DETERIORATING!" he exclaimed, further damaging a book with 'obligations and contracts' written on the cover.

continuing to tear and throw books, he occasionally tugged at his hair in frustration, even hitting the book against his forehead. jisung seemed to be acting without conscious thought, triggered into aggression each time he encountered the books and papers in his room.

after a while, jisung's aggressiveness began to subside. he took a seat back on the bed, feeling the onset of another impending headache.

"i feel... nothing..." he muttered, placing his hand on his head as the headache intensified.

"fuck!" he winced, now grabbing his head with both hands in a futile attempt to soothe the pain.

jisung's mind had become a tangled mess. there were moments when he felt an inexplicable urge to lash out, when sudden flashes of disturbing images invaded his thoughts. these episodes, triggered by the sight of the dusty books, had become a nightly routine, one of the reasons he had declined minho's earlier offer.

it felt as though he was trapped in his own personal hell, his mind and body tormenting him relentlessly every night in the confining darkness. jisung understood why this happened each night, yet the words that unconsciously spilled from his lips during these times made little sense to him.

memories surged and ebbed in jisung's mind, some triggering his body into unconscious actions like earlier, while others made him feel alive once more. however, there was a significant memory that eluded him, something he knew he held within, but his mind seemed to purposely obscure it for his own sake.