kidnapper's protection | seongjoong

20

The morning light spilled into the house, soft and golden. It was Saturday—a day that Seonghwa usually would have spent catching up on assignments or enjoying some peace before the inevitable grind of law school resumed. But things were different now. And today, his kidnapper was home.

The quiet presence of the masked man lingered like a shadow that wouldn't leave, suffocating and heavy. Every breath Seonghwa took felt measured, as though he were sharing air with someone far too close. He hated how aware he had become of the man's existence. Even if his kidnapper wasn't doing anything alarming at the moment, just knowing he was nearby threw off every thought and plan Seonghwa tried to focus on.

Seonghwa sat cross-legged on the floor by the large coffee table in the living room, his law books spread out in front of him. The upcoming bar exam loomed over him like a storm cloud, and he needed to study—needed to prove, if only to himself, that not even this nightmare would make him fall behind.

But frustration simmered in his chest, bubbling higher with every second. He rubbed his temples, his focus slipping.

He didn't want to be near his kidnapper. Not today. He didn't care if the man was sitting quietly in another room or merely passing by—his presence was too much. It was like an itch Seonghwa couldn't scratch, a weight pressing down on him that only seemed to grow heavier the longer he stayed in the house.

He exhaled slowly, trying to drown out the emotions clawing at his insides. He needed space. Even if it was just mental space.

Ignore him. Stay in your own world. Just study.

Seonghwa's pen scratched quietly against his notebook as he copied case notes, his brows furrowed in concentration. But then, without warning, the soft sound of footsteps made his muscles tighten.

The air shifted slightly as his kidnapper entered the room, a subtle but unmistakable change in the atmosphere.

Seonghwa didn't look up. He forced his eyes to remain glued to the text in front of him, pretending to be absorbed in his studies. Maybe if I ignore him, he'll just go away.

But instead, his kidnapper approached quietly and knelt beside him. Seonghwa could feel the man's presence at his side—calm, composed, patient. He kept his eyes on his notes, heart pounding in his chest.

Suddenly, the man's warm hand slid over his left palm, fingers intertwining with Seonghwa's in a slow, deliberate movement.

Seonghwa's breath hitched. His first instinct was to pull away, but his kidnapper's grip was gentle, not forceful. Somehow, that made it worse.

"What's wrong?" the man asked softly, his voice devoid of malice or sarcasm. It was the same calm, dangerous voice, but this time it carried something else—something close to...concern?

Seonghwa swallowed hard, still not meeting his gaze. "Nothing."

The word came out dry and flat, a lie so thin it might as well have been transparent.

His kidnapper tilted his head slightly, observing Seonghwa with those intense, unreadable eyes. He didn't release Seonghwa's hand, and for some reason, the way their fingers fit together unsettled him more than any threat or taunt the man had thrown his way so far.

The kidnapper's thumb traced a small circle over Seonghwa's knuckles, the subtle gesture almost...comforting. It sent a shiver down Seonghwa's spine, though whether from unease or something else, he didn't know.

His kidnapper then sat beside him, irritating Seonghwa's frustrated self even more.

"Look at me," his kidnapper said softly, the words sounding more like a command than a request.