BLOSSOMED | SEOKSOO FF ✔️

PART 04

It was well past midnight when Jisoo was startled awake by the sound of the door creaking open.

He sat up groggily, his body aching from the fresh bruises and cuts Seokmin had left on him earlier.

His head throbbed where it had been slammed against the wall, and the faint scent of antiseptic from his half-hearted attempt to bandage himself lingered in the air.

Through the dim light of the room, he saw Seokmin’s silhouette. The man’s shoulders were hunched, his frame trembling as muffled sobs escaped his lips. He was clutching a small first aid kit to his chest, his knuckles white from the grip. His face was streaked with tears, eyes bloodshot, his hiccupping breaths a haunting melody of guilt and despair.

“Bluebell…” Seokmin croaked, his voice breaking as he shuffled closer. His knees gave out when he reached the bed, and he sank to the floor beside Jisoo, placing the kit on the nightstand. He looked up at Jisoo, his expression torn between anguish and desperation. “I… I can’t believe I hurt you again. I… I didn’t mean to. You… you made me lose control, Bluebell. I—” He stopped himself, clutching his head as another wave of sobs overtook him.

Jisoo stared at him, his mind a storm of emotions. The pain in his body clashed with the sight of Seokmin’s raw regret, his heart conflicted between sympathy and self-preservation.

This wasn’t the first time Seokmin had come to him like this, crying out apologies wrapped in excuses, torn between guilt and denial.

And yet, every time, Jisoo felt himself wavering.

“You’re bleeding again,” Seokmin whispered, his trembling hands reaching out for Jisoo’s bandaged head. Jisoo instinctively flinched, leaning away, and Seokmin froze. His lips quivered as he pulled his hand back, clutching it to his chest. “I… I didn’t mean to scare you,” he muttered, his voice barely audible.

“Why are you here?” Jisoo asked, his voice hoarse. He couldn’t stop the bitterness from seeping into his words, though his heart ached at the sight of Seokmin breaking down in front of him.

Seokmin looked at him, tears spilling anew. “Because… because I can’t stand seeing you like this. I did this to you, my Bluebell. I—” His voice cracked, and he clenched his fists. “I hate myself for what I’ve done. I hate the monster I become… but you, Bluebell… you make me like this. You push me to this edge. I just want to love you, but you—” He stopped himself, choking on his words.

Jisoo felt his chest tighten. “You think this is love, Seokmin?” he whispered, his voice trembling. “Slamming my head against a wall? Making me bleed? Calling me the reason for your anger?” His hands balled into fists at his sides as he forced himself to continue. “How can you say you hate what you’ve done and still blame me for it?”

“I don’t know!” Seokmin shouted, his voice breaking as he buried his face in his hands. “I don’t know why I’m like this! I love you so much, Bluebell… I’d die for you. I’d do anything for you. But when I lose control, I—” He looked up, his tear-streaked face a mask of torment. “You have no idea how much it kills me afterward. Seeing you like this, knowing I’m the one who hurt you. But then I see you looking at other people, or letting them close, and I… I can’t control it. I can’t lose you.”

Jisoo stared at him, his heart a whirlwind of emotions. The desperation in Seokmin’s voice, the way he clutched at the floor as if it were the only thing grounding him, made something inside Jisoo ache. But he couldn’t ignore the lingering pain in his body, the constant fear that had become second nature.

“Seokmin,” Jisoo said softly, his voice quivering. “I’m not yours to lose. I’m not a possession. I’m a person… someone who’s terrified of you most of the time. Do you even understand what that feels like?”

Seokmin’s face twisted in anguish. “Don’t say that,” he pleaded, crawling closer to Jisoo’s side. “Don’t say you’re scared of me. I’d never want you to feel that way. I want to make this right. Please, let me…” His hands hovered over Jisoo, shaking as if he were afraid to touch him.

Jisoo didn’t pull away this time. He let Seokmin reach for the first aid kit and fumble with the bandages, though every movement was hesitant, as if Seokmin were terrified of hurting him further. Jisoo winced when Seokmin gently dabbed at the dried blood on his temple, and Seokmin froze, his eyes wide with guilt.

“I’m sorry,” Seokmin whispered, his voice cracking. “I’m so, so sorry, Bluebell. Please believe me.”

But did Jisoo believe him? He wasn’t sure. As he sat there, letting Seokmin patch up the wounds Seokmin himself had inflicted, he felt a hollow ache settle in his chest. This wasn’t the first time Seokmin had apologized, had sworn to do better, and yet the cycle always repeated. Jisoo wanted to hope, wanted to believe that Seokmin’s tears and remorse were genuine, that change was possible.

But deep down, a part of him whispered that this was just another moment in an unending loop—one that would only break when Jisoo found the strength to shatter it himself.