Painter in the night| Changjin

Let me kill you

Hyunjin's recovery was slow, but it was happening. Day by day, he seemed to be finding pieces of himself again. Therapy had become a safe haven, a place where he could unravel the tangled thoughts in his mind, and although he still struggled, the fog that had once suffocated him was beginning to lift. Dr. Minji had become a steady presence in his life, guiding him through the labyrinth of his trauma with patience and understanding.

Changbin had finally felt comfortable enough to return to the office. It was a relief in some ways, to immerse himself in work again, to feel productive. But every moment he spent away from Hyunjin was fraught with worry. He couldn't help but think of the fragile man he had left behind, alone in the house that had become both a sanctuary and a prison.

But Hyunjin was getting better, and Changbin clung to that hope. The nightmares that had once plagued Hyunjin's sleep had begun to subside, and there were nights when he slept peacefully, his face relaxed and untroubled. Sometimes, he would come to Changbin's room in the middle of the night, slipping under the covers and curling up beside him, seeking the comfort of his presence. Those nights were precious to Changbin, moments when he could hold Hyunjin close and feel the warmth of his body, a reassurance that he was still there, still fighting.

But there were other nights, too, when sleep eluded Hyunjin. On those nights, Changbin would wake to find Hyunjin on the terrace, the soft glow of the moon illuminating his figure as he sat with his sketchpad on his lap, his fingers moving feverishly across the paper. The guards, ever watchful, kept a close eye on him, ready to intervene if anything went wrong. They knew how delicate the situation was, how fragile Hyunjin's grasp on his sanity had become.

Hyunjin's art had taken a dark turn, reflecting the turmoil that still churned within him. The sketches he created in the dead of night were disturbing, filled with twisted imagery that seemed to speak of a mind teetering on the edge. Each drawing was a manifestation of the darkness that lurked within him, a darkness he couldn't seem to escape.

The most unsettling part was the recurring presence of Felix in his drawings. Every image contained some piece of him—a hand, an eye, a twisted smile. It was as if Hyunjin was haunted by the boy, unable to forget the sin he carried inside of him. The guilt gnawed at him, a constant reminder of the line he had crossed, the life he had taken.

Hyunjin knew he was losing control, that the darkness inside him was growing stronger, and yet he couldn't stop. The sketches were his way of coping, of trying to make sense of the madness that threatened to consume him. But they only served to drag him deeper into the abyss, and he wondered if there was any way back from it.

One particularly dark night, when the sky was heavy with clouds and the air was thick with the promise of rain, Hyunjin found himself once again on the terrace, his hands moving restlessly across the paper. His heart pounded in his chest, his mind racing with thoughts he couldn't control. The image he was creating was grotesque, a twisted reflection of his own fears and self-loathing.

He was so lost in his work that he didn't notice Changbin's presence until he felt a warm hand on his shoulder. Startled, Hyunjin looked up, his eyes wide and filled with a mix of emotions—fear, confusion, relief. Changbin stood beside him, his expression gentle but concerned as he took in the sight of the sketch Hyunjin had been working on.

"It's late," Changbin said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "You should be resting."

Hyunjin shook his head, his fingers still gripping the pencil as if it were the only thing keeping him tethered to reality. "I can't sleep," he murmured, his voice hollow. "Every time I close my eyes, I see him."

Changbin's heart ached at the confession. He knew exactly who Hyunjin was talking about, and he could see the torment written all over his face. Without a word, he took the sketchpad from Hyunjin's hands, setting it aside before pulling him into a gentle embrace. Hyunjin didn't resist, leaning into the warmth of Changbin's body, his own trembling slightly as he fought to keep his emotions in check.