KENTIN AU | Compilation of One-shot stories

scarred

"I think I'm in love with you and that scares me half to death,"

****

The dim, amber glow of the bar cast long shadows over Ken’s weary face, softening his hard features but unable to hide the storm in his dark eyes. It was late, the usual crowd thinning, leaving only a handful of souls lost in their own world. But for Ken, the night had never felt so intense, the weight of his emotions heavy and unfamiliar, like an open wound he couldn’t tend to in public.

Across the small table, Justin sat watching him, his gaze bright and warm even in the hazy light. He looked so beautiful, Ken thought, his expression both inviting and unguarded, like he’d willingly leave his heart open and exposed if only Ken would reach out. And that was the problem. Justin had this way of shining, a gentle warmth that seemed to fill the cracks in everything it touched, including Ken’s heart—a heart he’d long accepted as broken beyond repair.

Ken clenched his fists beneath the table, his calloused fingers pressing hard against his palms. He’d promised himself he wouldn’t let this happen. Not to Justin. Not to someone who deserved so much better than what he could offer. But there Justin was, searching his face, looking for something—an answer, maybe, or just a sign that Ken felt it too.

“You’re always so quiet,” Justin murmured, leaning forward just enough for the scent of his cologne to reach Ken’s senses, fresh and clean, like he’d just stepped in from the rain. “Sometimes… sometimes you look at me like you’re scared of something.” His voice was soft, playful but curious, too, laced with a kindness that made Ken’s chest ache.

Ken forced himself to laugh, though the sound was brittle, even to his own ears. “Maybe I am,” he managed, his gaze glued to his scarred knuckles. They told a story of their own—one of a life full of mistakes, battles fought and lost. He couldn’t let himself look at Justin right now; he couldn’t bear to see the light in his eyes and imagine it fading when he realized the truth about Ken’s past.

Justin tilted his head, his smile fading. “What are you so afraid of?” he pressed, his voice barely a whisper now, as if he understood there were things here too delicate for full volume.

Ken never imagined his life would come to this—a cold, quiet desperation hidden beneath a hardened exterior, a facade he’d perfected over the years. He’d grown up on the streets, the son of a man who vanished before his first birthday and a mother who tried but ultimately failed to protect him from the darkness of their neighborhood. By the time he was fifteen, Ken had learned survival meant doing whatever it took to keep himself safe. His life was one of constant vigilance and sacrifice, a battle he fought alone and, more often than not, in silence.

He carried the weight of his mistakes like chains around his wrists, each scar a reminder of choices he couldn’t undo. There were nights he’d broken laws, bruised knuckles still bleeding as he returned home in the early hours, only to wake and do it all again. He’d made his way up in the underworld, a shadow among shadows, his hands never truly clean since he first clenched his fist in anger. There were things he’d done—things he’d seen—that he couldn’t erase. And even if he wanted to leave it behind, those years had shaped him into something rough-edged, someone too accustomed to fighting just to survive.

But Justin was different. Justin was someone who’d never known that kind of struggle. Growing up, Justin had always been surrounded by warmth—a loving family who protected him, a privileged life that shielded him from the harsher realities Ken had faced. He was the golden child, bright and shining, his days filled with laughter, friends, and dreams. His family was affluent, and while he may have had his own troubles, none of them touched the shadows Ken was haunted by. Justin pursued a life of art, music, travel, and passion, unburdened by the weight of survival.