SENA'S POV
I can't stop shivering.
My body trembles uncontrollably, every muscle tight with the shock of what just happened. The echo of the gunshot rings in my ears, reverberating through my skull like a cruel reminder of the nightmare that has just unfolded. Steph's blood still stains my clothes as I stand outside the room she's staying in, tubes attached to her like snakes that coil around her fragile body, keeping her tethered to life. The sight of her, so still, so vulnerable, is more than I can bear.
My legs are barely holding me up. I can still see it—Steph lying on the cold concrete, her body crumpled, my frantic attempt to save her. It all replays in my mind on an endless loop, a horror I can't escape from. She was supposed to be safe. I was supposed to protect her. But I failed. I failed miserably.
The hallway is too bright, the fluorescent lights above casting a harsh glare on everything, making it all seem even more surreal. It's like I'm trapped in a bad dream, one where everything is too sharp, too vivid, too real. I can hear the faint hum of the hospital machinery, the distant murmur of voices from the nurses' station, but it all feels distant, like I'm underwater, struggling to stay afloat.
I'm still in that warehouse, hands tied behind my back while my father's body lies on the ground, cold, lifeless, and utterly devoid of the power that once terrified me. But it's not just his death that haunts me. It's the blood on my hands, the choices I made, the paths I didn't take. It's the way I couldn't protect Steph, the way I failed her when she needed me most. And now, as she lies in that hospital bed, fighting for her life, I can't help but feel like it's my fault. Like I'm the one who put her there, like every bad thing that's ever happened is somehow tied to me, to the mistakes I've made.
My legs buckle, and I press my back against the wall, sliding down until I'm sitting on the cold, tiled floor. I pull my knees to my chest, trying to make myself smaller, trying to disappear into the sterile white of the hospital hallway. Maybe if I'm small enough, the guilt and the pain and the fear won't be able to find me. Maybe I can hide from the horrors that won't stop replaying in my mind.
"Sena," Heeseung's voice breaks through the fog of my thoughts, soft and filled with a concern that I can't bear to hear right now. I don't look up; I can't. If I meet his eyes, I'll crumble, and I can't afford to do that—not here, not now. "Are you okay?" He holds me in his arms, his body warm against the chill of the walls.
The unfairness of it all makes me want to scream, to rage against the universe, but all I can do is sit here and shiver, too numb, too broken to do anything else. I nod, the motion slow and deliberate. I don't trust my voice. Any sound that escapes my lips will only shatter the fragile dam I've built around myself.
He squeezes me tighter, his hold comforting and familiar. But it's the weight of his silence that almost breaks me. He knows. He knows what I've done, what I haven't done. And in the quiet between us, I can hear the judgment, the accusation. I close my eyes, willing the world to fade away. I want to be anywhere but here, anywhere but now. I want to be back in time, before any of this happened. Before I was forced to watch the world crumble around me.
"It's not your fault, love," Heeseung's voice is soft, gentle, but it cuts through the silence like a knife. The endearment slips from his lips so naturally, so effortlessly, that it almost undoes me. I swallow hard, my throat tight and dry, as if the very act of accepting his comfort will betray the guilt that festers inside me.
"I should have done something—anything—to stop it." The words tumble out of me before I can stop them, a torrent of guilt and regret that I've been holding back for too long.
"You couldn't have known," Heeseung says, his voice steady, but I can hear the strain in it. He's trying so hard to be strong for me, to hold me together when I feel like I'm falling apart. "None of this is your fault, Sena. None of it."
"But it is—" My voice cracks. One crack. That's all it took. The thread snaps, and I break down, sobs wracking my body as the emotion and trauma of the day overwhelm me. The men taking us. The metal against my skin and the feeling, that if I died today, I'd do so without ever having lived. Not as Sena. Not as me. I'm nothing but a prisoner of my own fear.
Heeseung doesn't try to stop me, doesn't tell me to calm down or to be strong. He just lets me fall apart, and in that acceptance, I find a small, fragile comfort. I can feel his heartbeat against my cheek, a steady rhythm in the chaos of my mind. His arms are a fortress around me, protecting me from the world. "You couldn't have stopped it. None of this was your fault, Sena. You did everything you could. You survived when it would have been easier to give up. You fought when you were scared. That's not something to blame yourself for."
"You were about to risk your whole career and now Steph is hurt because of me," I whisper as if saying the words out loud would make them more real. More tangible. More painful. "If I didn't drag you into this—"
"My career is the last thing on my mind right now. It's about Steph, and it's about you. And right now, all that matters is getting you both through this." He pulls me closer, his hold tightening. "And Sena, you didn't drag me into anything. I chose to be there for you. I would do it all again in a heartbeat and I would give up everything I have just to make sure you and Steph are safe. Don't ever think that you're at fault for this. What happened wasn't your doing. You were caught in something bigger than any of us."
"I'm scared she'll wake up and realize that with me, she'd only end up hurt and—" I can't even finish the thought. I can't lose her. But am I selfish enough to make her stay if she ever wants to leave? If she ever feels unsafe?
Before Heeseung gets a chance to respond, the door to the waiting room bursts open and Sunghoon rushes to us, panting, breathing heavily. His eyes are wide with worry, and he scans the room frantically, his gaze locking onto the glass window that offers a view into the room where Steph is being treated.
"Is she—" He starts, his voice strained, but he cuts himself off as he sees me sitting on the floor, clutching Heeseung. He seems to take in the scene all at once: the tension in the air, the tears on my cheeks, and Heeseung's protective embrace. He sinks into a chair nearby, running a hand through his disheveled hair as if trying to pull himself together. His face is a mask of anxiety and guilt. "Fuck, why is this happening?"
After him, the door bursts open once again but this time, it's not someone I was expecting to see. My heart sinks as I see Min Woo and Yejin standing in the doorway, their faces a blend of shock and fury. I can't even begin to process their presence, their eyes piercing through the haze of my pain and guilt. My siblings. Half siblings. They hate me. They despise me. They're about to explode.
"Sena," But all they do is utter my name like a plea and crumble next to me, pulling me into a tight embrace that makes me realize I missed them more than words could ever describe. Their bodies, warm and familiar, make me cling to them, my sobs muffled by their clothes. "We're so sorry, Sena. We're so sorry." I can feel their fear, their anger, and most of all, their love. They've always been there, even when our relationship was strained.
"I'm sorry—" I choke out as if I'm the one who killed our father. As if I'm the one who ruined everything. As if I'm the architect of this chaos.
They tighten their embrace, their bodies offering a shield against the storm raging within me. "Don't," Min Woo whispers, his voice trembling. "None of this is your fault, Sena. We're here now." I pull back slightly, looking into their eyes, searching for any trace of blame or resentment. But all I find is an overwhelming compassion. All I find is utter acceptance. In their eyes, I see a reflection of my own pain, magnified and shared. Relief washes over me. I'm not alone. I've never truly been alone.
"Excuse me," The familiar nurse's voice makes me pull away and rush to her, eager to hear about Steph. My heart pounds in my chest as I wait for her to speak. The nurse smiles softly, her eyes filled with a warmth that soothes my anxiety. "She's awake. Her injury wasn't an easy one but it wasn't very serious. Seeing how she woke up earlier than we thought, the surgery went well. You can go see her now."
For the first time in what feels like forever, the world smiles back at me.
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✓ UNLIKELY MATCH | HEESEUNG
Fanfiction❝You're infuriating, you know that? But damn if the rebellion isn't seductive.❞