𝐋𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐚 𝐟𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐞 || 𝐒𝐞𝐨𝐤𝐬𝐨𝐨

Chapter Fourty nine

Jeonghan's eyes fluttered open slowly, the dim light of the room blurring as his head throbbed. His body was stiff, still tied to the chair. The pain radiated through every inch of him, but that familiar sensation had become something of a comfort. He relished in it, the marks Seungcheol had left on him like trophies adorning his skin.

When his vision cleared, there he was. Seungcheol, standing in front of him, his eyes locked onto Jeonghan’s with a cold, calculating stare. The sight sent a shiver of excitement down Jeonghan’s spine, his lips curling into a smirk.

“Missed me, darling?” Jeonghan’s voice was hoarse, his smirk widening as he savored the look in Seungcheol’s eyes. There was anger, frustration—perhaps even guilt—but behind all that, Jeonghan could see the flicker of something else. Something he craved.

Seungcheol didn’t respond immediately, his face betraying nothing as he stood over Jeonghan, arms crossed. His jaw clenched, and Jeonghan could sense the battle within him, the struggle to keep control, to maintain the power he wielded so ruthlessly. But Jeonghan knew better. He knew how to push Seungcheol’s buttons, how to make him unravel, piece by piece.

“You couldn’t stay away, could you?” Jeonghan’s voice was a low purr, his eyes gleaming with twisted amusement. “No matter what you do, no matter how hard you try to distance yourself, you always come back to me.” He tugged at the ropes binding his wrists, the sharp sting bringing a hiss of pleasure to his lips. “Tell me, Seungcheol—does it hurt more for you or me?”

Seungcheol’s fists tightened at his sides, his eyes darkening with fury. “Shut up,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous. But even as he spoke, Jeonghan could hear the tremor beneath the surface, the crack in the facade.

Jeonghan chuckled softly, leaning his head back against the chair, his black hair falling messily around his face. His neck was littered with bruises, deep purple marks that Seungcheol had left on him. “Oh, you know I won’t,” he whispered, his gaze locked onto Seungcheol’s. “I can’t stop. I live for this.”

Seungcheol took a step forward, his eyes narrowing. “You don’t understand, do you? I could end you right here, right now. You think this is some game—”

Jeonghan cut him off with a laugh, loud and broken, his head tilting to the side as he met Seungcheol’s gaze. “End me?” He arched a brow, his smile almost feral. “If you wanted to, you would have done it already. But you won’t. You can’t.”

Seungcheol’s hand shot out, gripping Jeonghan’s chin roughly, forcing him to look up at him. “You don’t know anything, Jeonghan,” he spat, his breath hot against Jeonghan’s face. “You’re just a fool who can’t see when he’s been broken.”

Jeonghan’s smirk didn’t falter, even as Seungcheol’s grip tightened. “Broken? Is that what you think?” His voice dropped, a dark glint in his eyes as he leaned forward as much as the ropes would allow, his lips brushing dangerously close to Seungcheol’s. “Darling, you made me this way. And now, I’m yours. All yours.”

Seungcheol’s breath hitched for a split second, and Jeonghan saw it—the flash of weakness, the uncertainty. He reveled in it.

“You don’t get it, do you?” Jeonghan whispered, his voice soft, almost tender, as if he were sharing a secret. “I want this. I want you to break me, hurt me, ruin me. Because in the end, you’ll be the one left with the pieces.”

Seungcheol’s hand trembled for a moment before he let go, stepping back abruptly as if Jeonghan’s words had burned him. His face twisted with a mix of disgust and confusion, but Jeonghan could see the truth behind it all.

“You’re pathetic,” Seungcheol snarled, but the venom in his voice was weak, his resolve crumbling.

“And you love it,” Jeonghan retorted, his eyes gleaming with sick satisfaction. “You love how much I need you, how much I’ll let you destroy me just to be near you.”

Seungcheol turned away, his fists clenching as he tried to gather himself. Jeonghan tilted his head, watching him closely, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. “What’s wrong, Seungcheol? Can’t handle the truth?”

“Stop,” Seungcheol barked, his voice shaking with barely contained rage.

“Stop?” Jeonghan repeated, his tone mocking. “You want me to stop, but we both know I won’t. Because you don’t want me to. You need this as much as I do.”

Jeonghan pulled at the ropes again, the sharp pain bringing a twisted smile to his face. “You can tie me up, lock me away, hurt me all you want, but it won’t change anything. I’ll still be here, waiting for you. Loving you.”

Seungcheol’s breath came in ragged gasps, his chest heaving as he struggled to keep control. But Jeonghan saw the cracks, the way his hands shook, the way his eyes flickered with doubt.

“You can’t win this, Seungcheol,” Jeonghan whispered, his voice soft but cutting. “You’ll never get rid of me. Because deep down, you don’t want to.”

Seungcheol turned back toward him, his face a mask of fury, but there was something else there too—something Jeonghan knew all too well.

“You think you control me,” Seungcheol growled, his voice low and menacing. “But you’re wrong. I control you. I always have.”

Jeonghan’s smirk widened. “Then show me.” His voice was challenging, taunting. “Show me how much control you really have.”

For a moment, Seungcheol didn’t move. His eyes bore into Jeonghan’s, a storm of emotions swirling beneath the surface. And then, slowly, he took a step forward, closing the distance between them.

Jeonghan’s heart raced, but he didn’t flinch. He leaned forward, his eyes never leaving Seungcheol’s as he whispered, “I’m waiting, darling.”

Seungcheol’s hands clenched into fists, his breath heavy as he stood over Jeonghan. The tension between them was electric, suffocating, but neither of them moved.

And then, in a swift motion, Seungcheol’s hand shot out, gripping Jeonghan’s throat tightly, cutting off his air. Jeonghan’s eyes widened, but his smirk remained, even as his vision started to blur.

“Is this what you wanted?” Seungcheol growled, his voice laced with fury. “Is this what you’ve been waiting for?”

Jeonghan choked, his body trembling under Seungcheol’s grip, but his eyes gleamed with satisfaction. He nodded, barely able to breathe, but the pleasure in his gaze was unmistakable.

Seungcheol’s grip tightened for a moment longer before he released him, shoving Jeonghan back against the chair. Jeonghan gasped for air, coughing as he struggled to catch his breath, but even then, his smile never wavered.

“You’ll always come back to me,” Jeonghan rasped, his voice hoarse but triumphant. “Because you need me, Seungcheol. Just like I need you.”

Seungcheol stood there, his body tense, his mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. He hated it—hated how Jeonghan twisted everything, how he thrived in the chaos. But deep down, he knew Jeonghan was right.

And that terrified him more than anything else.

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These both are crazy asf, and I'm crazy to write this!