Who Killed my Boyfriend |Hyunho|

Beneath the Scars✨

Beneath the scars, where silence sleeps,
A truth untold, a secret keeps.
In shadows deep, where echoes lie,
A whispered name, a muted cry.

Wounds that time could not erase, 
Hidden fears we cannot face.
Yet in the dark, where hearts entwine,
The pain becomes a fragile sign.

Of love once lost, but never gone,
Beneath the scars, it lingers on.

✨.....................................✨

Hyunjin's POV:

"Tell me, Hyunjin," Minho continued, his voice dropping to a whisper. "What did Jeongin say to you?"

The question hung between us like a sword, sharp and menacing. "He told me that you are here to kill me," I said, my voice betraying none of the turmoil that churned inside me. The words felt surreal, too dramatic to be real, yet here we were.

Minho's reaction was a slight narrowing of his eyes, a subtle shift in his expression that might have gone unnoticed by someone who didn't know him as well as I did. He moved closer, his hands finding their way to my waist, pinning me gently yet firmly against the wall. His touch was familiar but no less intimidating.

"Do you always carry your knife with you now, even next to me?" he whispered, his breath warm against my cheek. There was a hint of sadness in his voice, a trace of the man who once loved me without reservations.

I stiffened, feeling the cold press of the blade against my lower back. His fingers slipped expertly behind me, grazing the handle of the knife hidden in my waistband. With a calm force, he disarmed me, his actions smooth and practiced. The loss of the knife felt like a defeat, a small surrender in a battle I was just beginning to understand.

"I don't trust you," I admitted, the words harsher than I intended. Each syllable was laced with the bitterness of betrayal and the sharp tang of fear.

Minho's gaze softened, a flicker of the old warmth passing through his eyes. "Have you given up on loving me?" he asked, his voice low and achingly gentle, as if he genuinely cared about the answer.

The question pierced deeper than any knife. "Didn't you do that before me?" I countered, my voice a mix of anger and sadness. It was a defense, a shield against the vulnerability that his closeness evoked.

"If you hadn't run away after signing the divorce papers, if you had just waited for me to get back, I would have explained my reasons to you." he whispered

Tears welled up in my eyes as I looked up at him, the pain of betrayal sharp in my chest. "You promised me that you would come back to me, yet you sent me the divorce papers. You didn't even bother to explain through the lawyer. You tried to lock me up, you lied, and you hid things, Minho, as you always do," I said, my voice cracking under the strain of my emotions.

His proximity was overwhelming, his breath warm against my skin—a painful reminder of what I missed the most about him. But my anger, fueled by countless hurts, held strong.

"I'm sorry for everything I put you through," he whispered, his eyes searching mine for forgiveness that I wasn't ready to give.

"Sorry is not enough," I replied sharply, my gaze hardening as I met his.

He started to speak again, "Let me explain to you—"

But I cut him off, unwilling to hear any excuses. "No need to explain, you're here to remove the threat to your throne, so finish what you came to do," I said bitterly.

"Are you sure you don't want to hear my reasons first?" he asked, a hint of desperation in his voice.

"Yes," I affirmed coldly.