Minsung one shots I've written based off songs that I really like! Please read the trigger and content warnings on the first chapter thoroughly and stay safe! and if you're comfortable with reading adult stuff like that, have fun reading :)
☾
Someti...
If I last through the night, could you tell me again I'll be alright.
' ֶָ֢
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MINHO
He hadn't expected for his best friend to understand him. Not after clashing over and over again, about the same fucking topic. Not after all the things he had buried deep inside, all the pain he kept hidden behind his sharp words and broken silences. "It's my right not to trust anyone anymore," Minho said through clenched teeth, his pulse racing like a wild animal in his chest as he stared at Jisung. His hands were trembling, clenched into fists at his sides, the weight of his own pain making it hard to breathe. "Minho.." Jisung tried to say, his voice soft yet insistent, a mix of concern and the faintest hint of desperation. He could feel the walls closing in, the distance growing between them, even as his friend stood before him, desperate to reach him. "No, Hannie. It's my right to question everyone and everything, after all the shit I've been through." Minho's words were heavy, dripping with the rawness of years spent fighting battles he didn't ask for. "I can't just sit there and believe all those words, pretending like I haven't heard them from other people before.. pretending like they didn't just leave me without trying to fix things as if I'm not worth a thing," he said, his voice raising, wavering as he felt tears at the corners of his eyes, threatening to spill. His throat constricted, a sharp pain clawing at him from the inside. Why couldn't anyone see how much it hurt? He had been through so much, had suffered at the hands of people who promised him everything – their love, their loyalty, their trust. And in the end, every one of them had left. He could still hear their voices, the false reassurances, the empty promises that echoed in his mind like a cruel mockery of everything he once believed in.
He wasn't perfect, hell, he knew it. He was far from perfect, but he had always tried to be a good person, to make sure the people he cared about and loved had everything they needed in him. Minho had given his all, every piece of himself, and received nothing but heartbreak in the end. The sting of betrayal was a constant companion, a whispering shadow that never let him forget how much of himself he had poured into others, only to be left with nothing but the remnants of his broken trust. The memory of every single betrayal lingered in the back of his mind every single day, making it hard to breathe, like a weight on his chest that wouldn't lift. He had been to therapists, more than he could count, and the list of his diagnoses only got longer with every person that had fucked him over. He struggled with depression and borderline. His scars showed a past he so badly wanted to forget, every thin line adorning his arms a reminder of the people that had left him because he had made the mistake of putting himself first just once. Each scar wasn't just a wound; it was a mark of how badly he had been hurt, how far the damage went, and how long it had taken to heal from it – how some wounds never really healed at all. Every bitter word they had ever said to him wrapping around his heart, squeezing until it hurt to be alive.
