Fractured Reflections; Oh Sangwoo X Reader

Shadows in the Dark

The apartment was eerily quiet when we returned, the air thick with an unsettling tension that hadn't been there before. I closed the door behind us, listening to the soft click of the lock sliding into place. A part of me wished that simple act could shut Sangwoo out of my life for good, but I knew better. The walls of this apartment were paper-thin compared to the strength of his presence. He was everywhere—in my thoughts, my nightmares, my memories. No lock could keep him out.

Samurai dropped his keys onto the small table by the door, his movements slow and deliberate, as if he were afraid of disturbing the silence between us. I felt the weight of his eyes on me as I stood there, frozen in place, my mind racing but my body too tired to move. He didn't say anything, didn't push me. He just waited, letting me take the lead, as he always did.

"I'm gonna take a shower," he finally said, his voice soft, barely above a whisper.

I nodded absentmindedly, watching as he disappeared down the hallway and into the bathroom. The sound of running water filled the apartment, a constant, steady stream that seemed to drown out the noise in my head. I took a deep breath, trying to calm the anxious energy coursing through my veins, but it was no use. The walls felt like they were closing in on me, the silence too loud, too suffocating.

I reached for my phone, hoping for a distraction, something to pull me out of my own thoughts. But the moment I unlocked the screen, my heart dropped.

A message from an unknown number.

"Miss me?"

I knew exactly who it was before I even opened it. Sangwoo. My stomach twisted as I stared at the text, my fingers trembling. Of course he had found me again. Of course he knew exactly where I was, what I was doing. There was no escaping him, no matter how far I ran or how hard I tried to forget.

I should have been afraid. I should have felt that familiar spike of terror, the one that had gripped me every time I saw his name on my phone, every time he reminded me that he was still out there, waiting, watching. But this time, something was different. This time, I didn't feel fear.

I felt anger.

I quickly typed back, my fingers moving faster than my thoughts.

"I'm not afraid of you anymore."

The words appeared on the screen, bold and final. For the first time in a long time, I didn't feel like a victim. I felt powerful, defiant. I hit send and watched as the message disappeared into the void. A small part of me hoped that it would be the end of it, that Sangwoo would see my words and finally let me go. But I knew better. I always did.

A minute passed, then two, and just when I started to think that maybe, just maybe, he would leave me alone—

Another message.

"You should be."

My breath caught in my throat, my hands shaking as I stared at the screen. The anger that had surged through me only moments before evaporated, replaced by a familiar sense of dread. I felt my chest tighten, the walls closing in again, the air too thick, too heavy. My heart pounded in my ears, each beat louder than the last. I could hear the water still running in the bathroom, but it felt like it was a million miles away, like Samurai wasn't just a few feet from me.

I swallowed hard, trying to keep my composure, but the panic was already settling in, curling around me like a vice. My vision blurred as I read the next message.

"You'll never escape me."

That was it. The final blow. My legs gave out from under me as the world around me spun, my mind spiraling out of control. The memories came flooding back—every moment of pain, every scream, every time I had begged for it to end. Sangwoo's face flashed in my mind, twisted and cruel, and suddenly, I couldn't breathe.

I stumbled to my feet, my body moving on autopilot as I rushed down the hallway, my hands shaking as I fumbled for the bathroom door. I needed Samurai. I needed him to make it stop, to pull me out of this nightmare.

The door swung open, and I found him there, stepping out of the shower, water still dripping from his skin. He froze when he saw me, his expression shifting from confusion to concern in an instant. "Y/N?" His voice was soft, hesitant, but I couldn't answer. I couldn't speak. I could barely breathe.

I collapsed into his arms, my body trembling uncontrollably. He didn't hesitate, didn't ask questions. He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close, his chest warm and solid against my shaking form. He grabbed a towel, quickly covering himself before leading me to the floor, sitting down with me in his lap.

"What happened?" he whispered, his voice soothing, gentle.

I couldn't find the words to explain. The phone was still clutched in my hand, my knuckles white from gripping it so hard. Samurai's eyes flickered to the screen, and without a word, he took it from me. His face darkened when he saw the messages. He didn't say anything for a moment, just stared at the words as if trying to absorb their meaning.

Then, without hesitation, he blocked the number.

"There," he said softly, placing the phone on the counter, out of my reach. "He's gone. You don't have to deal with him anymore."

But the truth was, I wasn't sure if blocking his number would ever be enough. Sangwoo wasn't just a name on a screen or a number in my phone. He was a presence, a ghost that haunted me, no matter how far I tried to run. And no amount of blocking or deleting could make him disappear.

Samurai must have sensed my hesitation because he pulled me closer, his arms tightening around me. "You're safe," he murmured, his breath warm against my ear. "He can't hurt you anymore. Not while I'm here."

I wanted to believe him. I wanted to trust that Samurai could protect me from the shadows that still lingered in every corner of my mind. But as I rested my head against his chest, the memories came flooding back, unbidden and relentless.

The feel of Sangwoo's hands on me, the sound of his voice whispering threats in the dark, the pain, the fear, the helplessness. It all came rushing back, a tidal wave of emotions that I wasn't ready for.

Samurai stood, lifting me in his arms with ease, and carried me to the bed. He laid me down gently, pulling the blankets over me before climbing in beside me. His arms wrapped around me once more, holding me close as if he could shield me from the nightmares that awaited.

I closed my eyes, trying to focus on the steady beat of his heart, on the warmth of his body against mine. But as the darkness of sleep took hold, the memories crept in, one by one, wrapping around me like a shroud. Sangwoo's face, his voice, his touch—they haunted me, even in the safety of Samurai's arms.

And as I drifted off, I couldn't shake the feeling that no matter how hard I tried, no matter how far I ran, Sangwoo would always find a way back to me.