ᴘᴀɪɴᴛ ꜱᴛʀᴇᴀᴋꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ʙʟᴀɴᴋ ᴄᴀɴᴠᴀꜱᴇꜱ 🖌 ʏᴜɴʜᴏ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

T W E N T Y - S I X

" To Kim Juyeon, I'm so sorry that I called you a slut during freshman year, I was just jealous and rude..."

"To Choi Ha, I'm sorry about breaking your phone and deep-faking a video of you stealing, I couldn't help my friend find her stuff and thought it was you.."

"To Park Yeseo, I'm sorry that I told people you slept with you teachers, I was jealous that you got better grades than me..."

Letter, after letter, after letter; the apology notes piled onto Y/N's desk. Her parents couldn't stand the sight of her after all has been revealed, but still fed her and checked up on her when she wouldn't come out of her room for days. Y/N wallowed in self-pity as she rotted in bed and occasionally messaged Yunho; unable to hold a proper conversation for too long without needing a moment for herself.

Her whole environment changed; her hair was now cut into a short wolf cut, her closet going from pink and frills to black hoodies and grey sweatpants. Her room, which once used to be clean and tidy, has turned into a mess, randoms pens and notebooks lying on the floor and unknown pieces of trash littered across the room.

She looks into the mirror to see a soulless corpse, a mannequin that was once filled with life. The cigarette burns have slowly healed, still leaving some pinkish circles on her cheeks. She looked beyond exhausted, her eyebags drooping heavy as if dumbbells were attached to them. She was about to sink back into bed when a soft knock was heard from outside the door.

"Open up," It was Miae. Y/N opened the door to find Miae holding a plate of food and utensils for her.

"Thanks," She murmured, closing the door after her sister scurried away.

Y/N put the plate of food on her desk, staring at it blankly. She wasn't hungry, but she knew she had to eat. It had been days since she'd felt any real appetite, and the constant swirl of guilt, shame, and regret made even the simplest task feel monumental. Her life, once so full of superficial confidence and control, had crumbled into pieces she wasn't sure how to put together.

The apology letters, neatly folded but drenched in sorrow, were a constant reminder of the person she used to be. The person she hated, the one who had hurt so many people. She flipped through them again, her stomach churning at the memories each letter dredged up. Faces flashed before her eyes people she had wronged for reasons that now felt hollow and pathetic.

She took out some envelopes and started putting the letters in, sealing them with a lick on the edge and stuffing them into her bag. She hesitated as her hand took the door knob and opened the door. Distance sounds of the metal utensils against the porcelain plate could be heard in the distance, seems like they're eating dinner. Y/N snuck off to the back door and got in and out quietly, careful not to make too much noise.  

Y/N slipped out of the house, the chill of the evening air biting at her skin as she carefully closed the back door behind her. Her heart pounded in her chest, and her hands trembled as she walked down the quiet streets. It felt like every shadow cast by the dim streetlights held the ghosts of her past mistakes, watching her with judgmental eyes. The world seemed colder, more hostile than before; or maybe it was just the guilt making everything feel that way. 

As she reached the mailbox at the end of the street, she stood still, gripping the bag. Would they even care? Would they rip the letters apart, or worse, would they read them and still want nothing to do with her? She wouldn't blame them if they did; hell, if it was her, she wouldn't even touch the letter. 

Y/N swallowed hard, her fingers tightening around the edge of the bag, contemplating turning back. But no; she needed to do this. It was her only chance at starting over, at righting the wrongs she had caused, even if it was too late for forgiveness.

With a deep breath, she opened the mailbox and began to drop the letters inside. One by one. Each one felt like a part of her being released, but it didn't feel like the relief she had hoped for. It felt more like pulling off a bandage, exposing the raw wounds underneath, vulnerable to an infection.

L̶i̶t̶t̶l̶e̶ d̶i̶d̶ s̶h̶e̶ k̶n̶o̶w̶ t̶h̶e̶ i̶n̶f̶e̶c̶t̶i̶o̶n̶ w̶a̶s̶ j̶u̶s̶t̶ a̶ f̶e̶w̶ m̶i̶l̶e̶s̶ a̶w̶a̶y̶.

Walking down the streets of the city, Y/N felt her soul lighten as she looked around at the people around her; kids holding hands with their parents, smiling and giggling with various desserts in their hands. The lights decorating the buildings flickering all shades of colours, illuminating the world around her gloomy life. 

Her feet took her wherever they desired, which made her pass by her school. She could still recognize the spot where had realized that it was all over. She blinked hardly and moved on, the places nearby only bringing her more despair. The cafe she used to work at, the crosswalk where Yunho had spilled his drink over her clothes, the convenience store her time with Yunho began, the carpark where she would meet Wooyoung after school-

Speak of the devil.

She had passed right in front of a police station, noticing an all too familiar figure stepping out the door. His clothes were ragged and his hair disheveled, looking like a homeless man searching for shelter. His eyes were dangerously piercing, lasers practically shooting out of them. His head turned round to meet her eyes, a malicious grin flashing upon his face. This wasn't the Wooyoung she was last time they talked, he changed. Wooyoung charged up to her rapidly, his hands clenched into fists.

Y/N stood there like a deer in headlights, unable to move due to the striking fear coursing through her body. Once he was within arm's reach, he towered over her with a dangerous aura surrounding him. Then he uttered the first words she has heard of him in months.

"Look what you've done. Are you happy now?"