Tangeled in shadows | Min Yoongi

Chapter 22: Tension?

Yoongi stood at the window for what felt like hours, the weight of his thoughts pressing down on him. He wanted to escape from the confusion swirling inside, but no matter how hard he tried, it kept coming back to her.

He finally turned, glancing back at her sleeping form. She looked so fragile now, a far cry from the fierce woman who had always held her own in the world they lived in. But Yoongi knew better. Yoona wasn’t fragile. She was a survivor. Yet seeing her like this, it was impossible not to feel protective, more than he’d ever allowed himself to feel for anyone else.

He moved back toward her, slowly lowering himself into the chair next to her bed. He could still hear the faint beep of the heart monitor, a reminder of how close he had come to losing her.

Just then, she stirred, a soft moan escaping her lips. Her fingers twitched, then her eyes slowly blinked open. Yoongi immediately leaned forward, his breath catching in his throat as her gaze met his.

“Yoona…” His voice was quiet, full of emotion he didn’t quite know how to control.

Yoona blinked again, her face scrunching slightly as she tried to get her bearings. Her eyes were still heavy with sleep, but they softened when they landed on him. “Yoongi,” she murmured, her voice hoarse, barely a whisper.

For a moment, there was only silence between them, the weight of what had happened hanging in the air. Yoongi wanted to say something—anything—but the words didn’t come.

It was Yoona who broke the silence first, her voice rough but determined. “Why are you here?”

Yoongi frowned. “I stayed with you after the attack. You almost—” He stopped himself, not wanting to say the words aloud. “You’re hurt.”

Yoona let out a weak chuckle, though it quickly turned into a wince. “I know I’m hurt. I just don’t get why you care.”

Her words stung, and Yoongi couldn’t ignore the truth behind them. He had spent so much time hiding how much he cared, building up walls between them. But after tonight, after almost losing her, those walls had started to crumble, and he wasn’t sure how to handle it.

“I couldn’t let you die,” Yoongi said, his voice rough. “Not like that. Not when I—”

Yoona cut him off, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Not when you what? Yoongi, we’re enemies, remember? You don’t owe me anything.”

Yoongi’s jaw tightened, frustration bubbling up inside him. He wasn’t used to explaining himself, especially not to someone like her. But now, in the quiet of the room, with only the two of them, he couldn’t hold it back any longer.

“I don’t know how to explain it,” he said, his voice low but intense. “I don’t know why I feel the way I do, but I couldn’t just stand by and watch you die. Not after everything.”

Yoona’s expression softened slightly, but she still looked skeptical. “What does that even mean, Yoongi? After everything, what?”

He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. “After all the fighting, all the back-and-forth. It was never just business with us, was it? You were always more than just a rival, more than just another player in the game. And tonight, when you stopped breathing—” His voice faltered, the memory of her still body flashing in his mind. “I thought I was going to lose you.”

Yoona’s eyes softened, the hard edge to her voice fading as she watched him. “You didn’t lose me,” she said softly, her voice more vulnerable than he had ever heard it before. “I’m still here.”

Yoongi swallowed hard, his gaze fixed on her. “But you almost weren’t. And that’s when I realized I can’t keep pretending anymore. I can’t pretend that you’re just another part of this world, another enemy. Because you’re not.”

Yoona looked away, her brows knitting together as she processed his words. There was a long pause before she spoke again, her voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t understand. We’ve been trying to kill each other for months. How did we end up here?”

Yoongi leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he met her gaze, his eyes full of something she hadn’t seen in him before—something raw and real. “I don’t know. But I do know that whatever this is between us, it’s more than just hate.”

Yoona stared at him, her heart pounding in her chest despite her injuries. She had spent so long hating him, blaming him for her father’s death, for all the pain that had followed. But now, lying here, looking into his eyes, she couldn’t deny that something had shifted between them.

“What if it’s too late?” Yoona whispered, her voice fragile. “What if there’s too much blood between us?”

Yoongi reached out, his hand finding hers. His touch was gentle, careful, as if he was afraid she might break. “Maybe it is too late,” he admitted. “But maybe it’s not. Maybe we’re both more than the blood on our hands.”

Yoona’s eyes filled with emotion as she looked at him. She wanted to hate him. She wanted to hold onto the anger, the rage that had fueled her for so long. But in this moment, all she felt was the weight of his words, the truth behind them.

“I don’t know if I can ever forgive you for what happened to my father,” she said softly, her voice thick with emotion. “But I don’t know if I can hate you anymore either.”

Yoongi nodded, his thumb brushing against her knuckles as he held her hand. “I don’t expect forgiveness. I don’t even know if I deserve it. But I’m not asking for that. I’m just asking you to stay. To keep fighting. Not against me, but with me.”

Yoona closed her eyes, letting his words sink in. She had spent so long fighting—fighting him, fighting the world, fighting herself. But now, in this moment, she didn’t want to fight anymore.

“I’m tired of fighting,” she whispered, her voice breaking.

Yoongi squeezed her hand, his eyes softening as he leaned closer, his voice gentle. “Then don’t fight anymore. Not with me.”

For the first time in a long time, Yoona felt something inside her begin to shift. The walls she had built around her heart, the armor she had worn for so long, began to crack. And for the first time, she didn’t try to stop it.

Maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t too late after all.