The Conquest (Underworld 5) SH

35: It's Over

A week had passed, and Jihoon found himself returning to the bridge more often than he cared to admit. Every evening, his feet led him there as if on autopilot, drawn to the place where everything had almost ended—and where Soonyoung had saved him. But no matter how long he waited, no matter how many times he scanned the horizon, Soonyoung never appeared.

The bridge, once a symbol of despair, had now become a place of bittersweet hope for Jihoon. He would stand at the edge, gripping the cold metal railing, staring out at the water below. The wind was often harsh, cutting through him like a reminder that this was real, that what he was feeling was real. But with every day that passed and Soonyoung's absence lingered, a small piece of Jihoon's hope chipped away.

One evening, after spending hours at the bridge yet again, Jihoon sighed and turned to leave, pulling his coat tighter around himself. His heart ached in a way that was becoming too familiar. It wasn't just the absence of Soonyoung that hurt—it was the memories, the what-ifs, and the lingering feeling that maybe Soonyoung had truly moved on, leaving him behind in the past.

He walked slowly back to the Midnight mansion, his steps heavy. The sound of cars passing, the hum of the city at night, all of it felt distant, as if he were moving through a world that no longer belonged to him. He wanted to forget, but he couldn't stop the thoughts from consuming him, couldn't stop himself from wishing things had been different.

When he finally reached the mansion, the warm lights inside felt jarring compared to the cold solitude of the bridge. Jihoon paused at the entrance, staring at the door as if it were a barrier between the life he had now and the life he wanted but could never have. But there was no turning back, and as much as he longed for Soonyoung, he knew he couldn't keep chasing a shadow.

He stepped inside, closing the door behind him softly.

Meanwhile, Soonyoung's life with Yuta had spiraled into a constant cycle of fights, tension, and anger. The man he had once loved, the person who had brought him comfort and laughter, seemed like a stranger now. Yuta had become someone Soonyoung barely recognized, his once easygoing nature now replaced by explosive fits of rage.

It started with small arguments—disagreements about trivial things that never used to matter. But those small spats quickly escalated into something darker. Yuta's temper flared more often, his words sharp and biting, cutting Soonyoung down with each exchange. And the worst part was, Soonyoung was trying to endure it. He was trying to hold on, clinging to the hope that Yuta could change, that things would return to how they once were. But deep down, he knew that hope was slipping through his fingers.

One night, after yet another heated argument, Soonyoung sat on the edge of their bed, his hands gripping his knees as he stared at the floor. His heart pounded, not from fear but from exhaustion. He was tired—tired of the fights, tired of pretending that things were still okay. Yuta had stormed out of the room earlier, slamming the door behind him in a fit of rage. The apartment was eerily quiet now, the only sound the soft hum of the city outside their window.

Soonyoung rubbed his face with his hands, feeling the weight of everything pressing down on him. This wasn't the life he had imagined, not with Yuta. The love that once existed between them felt distant, like a faded memory he could no longer reach. Yuta was no longer the man who had held him close, whispering sweet promises of a future together. Now, Yuta was unpredictable, violent, and it scared Soonyoung in ways he hadn't admitted to himself yet.

When Yuta finally came back, his face was still tense with anger, but there was a glint of something darker in his eyes. Without a word, he grabbed a glass from the kitchen counter and threw it across the room, shattering it against the wall. The noise startled Soonyoung, and his body tensed, but he said nothing. He had learned that speaking in moments like this only made things worse.