𝔹𝕝𝕦𝕣𝕣𝕖𝕕 𝕃𝕚𝕟𝕖𝕤, Beomjun

032

"You said it was nothing," Iseul accuses Yeonjun with an indignant glare, his arms crossed over his chest. Yeonjun falters, words falling flat on his heavy tongue. He doesn't know what he's guilty of, hell, when he looks up he fails to recollect where he is. However, he recognises the betrayed faces and angry stares aimed his way.

"I..." Yeonjun's mouth bobs closed and he gulps down the thick lump in his throat that faintly resembles the taste of bile.

"How could you do this, Yeonjun?" his mother whimpers through her rage, words a harsh staccato of displeasure and blame. Though, it's clear she doesn't blame the entire predicament on him. She should've done a better job at raising him, then this would never have happened.

"Mom-"

"You said it was just the bond," Taehyun scoffs, his posture resembling Iseul's as he crosses his arms over his muscled chest that inflates and deflates with an unforgiving huff.

When Yeonjun goes to speak their warbled voices attack him all at once, a discordant harmony acting as a mouthpiece for all of the anger he's caused. The volume increases with every passing second and the noise morphs into blaring frequencies that rings through his ears.

Yeonjun yells out, unable to hear his own voice, and protects his ears from the tinny screech with his hands pressed to them firmly. The agony persists through his futile attempt, merciless and vengeful. It forces him into a crouch, as if the pain will subside, and he cries to himself, face wetting with miserable tears.

Slowly, liquid trickles from Yeonjun's ears and his fingers grow sticky. When he brings them in front of his face (knowing there's little point covering his ears since doing so did little to help), his dark crimson blood coats them.

He swallows and gazes up with teary eyes. His family, standing closer than he recalls, loom over him, reprimanding him without the need for words.

"I'm sorry," he chokes out, and it's only when he hears his own weakened voice that he realises the cacophony has ended. Now, his voice is surrounded by emptiness, a hollow quiet that could be filled by the tiny drop of a pin. "I'm sorry," he repeats and drops his head down in defeat.

Yeonjun sniffs through his snotty nose, and as he listens his confusion grows. Something in the air has changed and it no longer feels unsettling. Warmth coats his cheeks in a fleeting embrace and sends soft kisses into his flowing hair, gentle and safe.

He lifts his head and around him virgin white and a soft purple decorates a venue. Petals of a similar colour fall from above him and make their slow descent to the ground, relaxed and carefree. He glances towards the white chairs on either side of the aisle he happens to be standing at the end of, and his eyes run over all the people he knows and doesn't know. His chest falls with a nervous huff and a voice to his side startles him.

"Nervous?"

Yeonjun jumps, his attention snapping towards the owner of the voice.

He blinks, his mind blank as he stares at Beomgyu and realises where they are and what is happening.

"What's..." Yeonjun glances around with desperation this time, looking for an answer in the faces that watch him with confusion. "What's going on, what's happening?" He shifts his gaze in a restless cycle from the guests and Beomgyu, to anywhere but the two.

The guests shift with an awkwardness one would have as they watch a pending rejection and Beomgyu's expression morphs into hurt confusion. "Junnie? Is-" he chokes back a breath, not wanting to voice his fears, scared weakness and vulnerability will pour out in place of words. "Is everything okay?"