The Black rose (Minsung ff)

cries of pain

The air was heavy between them, saturated with tension and despair. Jisung's breath came in uneven gasps, the tear tracks on his cheeks glistening under the dim light. Minho could barely look at him, but when he did, it was like facing a reflection of his own torment.

"Hyung... please, don't." Jisung's voice cracked as he spoke, raw and pleading. His fingers, bound and trembling, reached out as if he could somehow close the gap between them with a single touch. "You don't have to do this, my love. We—we can find another way."

Minho's hand wavered, the syringe hovering dangerously close to Jisung's neck. He swallowed hard, fighting the lump in his throat.

"I can't, Jisung," Minho whispered, his voice barely audible. His eyes flickered to the vial, the chip gleaming inside, an unspoken promise of control. "I don't have a choice."

Jisung's lips quivered, a broken sob escaping before he could stop it. "Yes, you do! You always have a choice." His words were desperate now, a final plea. "If you do this... you'll never forgive yourself. And I... I'll never be the same."

Minho flinched at the words, like they had struck him physically. His grip tightened around the syringe, the weight of it pressing into his palm like a burden he could no longer bear.

"I'm doing this to protect you." Minho's voice was hollow, as though he was trying to convince himself just as much as he was trying to convince Jisung. "To protect us."

"No!" Jisung's voice rose, sharp with agony. His eyes burned with unshed tears, glistening with the weight of everything left unsaid. "You're doing this because you want to own me. This isn't love anymore, Minho. This... this is obsession."

The words hit Minho like a sledgehammer, knocking the breath out of him. Obsession. The truth in Jisung's accusation stung deeper than anything else could. He knew it—had known it for a long time. But hearing it from Jisung's lips made it real, made it undeniable.

"I don't care." The admission slipped out before Minho could stop it, raw and jagged. His hand shook, the syringe still poised against Jisung's skin, but now there was no more pretense. "I don't care what this is called. You're mine, sung. And I'm not letting you go."

Jisung's breath hitched, his eyes widening as fresh tears spilled down his cheeks. He stared at Minho, the words hanging between them like a dark cloud.

"Do you even hear yourself?" Jisung whispered, his voice breaking. "You're not saving me—you're destroying me. If you do this, you're the one ruining everything."

Minho's heart clenched at the sight of Jisung's tear-filled gaze, but he couldn't back down. He couldn't. There was too much at stake—too much that could be lost.

"I can't lose you," Minho said quietly, his voice trembling. "Not to them. Not to anyone. This is the only way."

Jisung shook his head, sobbing softly now, his chest heaving. "You're already losing me, hyung. Can't you see? You're losing the person who loved you."

Minho's heart shattered at those words, but his hand remained steady, the syringe still pressed to Jisung's skin. He could feel the warmth of Jisung's neck beneath his fingers, the pulse racing beneath the surface. It would only take one push—one small movement—and everything would change.

Jisung's voice dropped to a whisper, barely audible through his tears. "Don't sedate me. I want you to hear my pain. I want you to hear my cries while you do this... so you'll never forget it."

Minho froze. His grip faltered, his entire body going rigid. Jisung's words cut deeper than any blade ever could, piercing through the facade of control Minho had built around himself. His lover—his Jisung—wanted him to witness the agony. To feel the full weight of his betrayal.