・❥・ʙᴏᴏᴋ ᴛᴡᴏ ᴏꜰ ʙʟᴜꜱʜ ʙᴏʏ ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ. Jung Wooyoung, known for his hot pink cosplay outfits, has blossomed with confidence thanks to his boyfriend, San. Enduring a time apart due to San's work, Wooyoung has held his own. But upon San's return, the dynami...
As the week wore on since the tragic incident with Joon, the weight of the world seemed to settle more heavily on Wooyoung's shoulders. Each day, I watched helplessly as he spiraled deeper into self-recrimination, tormenting himself with the belief that he was to blame for the violence that had been forced upon him. Despite my best efforts to comfort him, to remind him that his actions were purely in self-defense, Wooyoung remained haunted by the ordeal.
Night after night, he cried himself to sleep, trapped in a cycle of guilt and despair. His pain was palpable, radiating through every silence, every whispered apology to the empty air. It seemed as though the vivid memory of that night—the feel of the knife, the sight of the blood—had imprinted itself indelibly on his psyche, overshadowing every moment of our lives.
I spent countless hours talking to him, trying to pierce the fog of his guilt with reassurances of his innocence. "You did what you had to do," I would say gently, holding him close. "You're not a cruel person. You were pushed into an impossible situation, and you survived. That's not cruelty—that's courage."
But no matter the words I chose, they seemed to wash over him without taking hold. He would nod, a hollow gesture, and murmur a quiet "I know," but his eyes told a different story. They were filled with a deep, consuming sorrow, a pain that words seemed incapable of healing.
It pained me deeply to see him like this, a shadow of the vibrant, loving person I knew. The trauma had erected walls around him that I struggled to breach. As each day passed, I felt more desperate to help him find some semblance of peace, to break the cycle of guilt that kept him prisoner.
In an effort to help, I suggested professional help. "Maybe talking to someone—a therapist or a counselor—could help you process everything," I suggested one evening as we sat quietly in our living room, the TV flickering with a show neither of us was watching.
" I don't want to right now. I don't want anything I want to move away from Seoul and—"he whisper pulling the blankets tighter on himself.
The tension between Wooyoung and me reached a breaking point as the emotional aftermath of the incident with Joon continued to unfold. I had spoken to Mingyu and Wonwoo, believing it was essential to keep our closest friends informed and engaged during such a difficult time. They needed to understand the gravity of the situation, partly to provide support, and partly because they were an integral part of our lives and safety network. However, my decision backfired when Wooyoung found out.
