BLOSSOMED | SEOKSOO FF

PART 05

The next time Jihoon arrived, he sensed something was wrong the moment he stepped inside the house. The air felt thick, like it was weighted down with unspoken words, secrets that trembled just beneath the surface. He called out Seokmin’s name, but his gaze swept across the room, his stomach twisting at the sight of Jisoo sitting on the edge of the couch, looking gaunt and worn down, his head wrapped in white bandages and faint bruises visible on his neck.

“Jisoo?” Jihoon’s voice softened, instinctively concerned. But Jisoo barely looked up, his shoulders curled inward, his face pale and void of expression. It wasn’t the warm, gentle Jisoo Jihoon remembered; it was like looking at a hollow shell.

Seokmin stepped out from the kitchen, a smile on his face as he greeted his brother. “Jihoon, I didn’t know you were stopping by again. Is there something you need?”

Jihoon’s eyes didn’t leave Jisoo. “What happened?” he asked, his voice sharp, cutting through Seokmin’s forced warmth. “Why does he look like this?”

Seokmin hesitated, a flicker of something unsteady flashing across his face before he schooled his expression back into one of nonchalance. “Oh, that?” He chuckled lightly, shrugging. “Jisoo had a little accident, that’s all. He… tripped in the shower the other day. You know how clumsy he can be.”

Jihoon’s gaze hardened, feeling something cold and angry coil within him. He couldn’t believe Seokmin would lie so easily, so openly, without a shred of shame. “Clumsy? An accident?” Jihoon repeated, his voice low. “You expect me to believe that he just happened to hit his head, that he just happened to have bruises on his neck?”

Seokmin’s easy smile slipped, his eyes narrowing. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, Jihoon,” he said, his voice growing colder. “I take care of Jisoo. He’s fine.”

Jihoon shook his head, feeling a swell of anger that he hadn’t experienced before. “Take care of him? This doesn’t look like taking care of someone, Seokmin. This looks like… like you’ve trapped him here, like you’ve… hurt him.” His voice faltered as he forced himself to look at Jisoo, who hadn’t spoken a word, his body tense and unmoving.

Seokmin’s face hardened, a flash of defensiveness in his eyes. “You don’t know what it’s like, Jihoon. You don’t understand. Jisoo and I… we have something special. He’s just been a little difficult lately, that’s all.”

“Difficult?” Jihoon’s voice was incredulous, and he felt his control slipping. “He’s not difficult, Seokmin. He’s broken. Can’t you see that?”

“Watch your tone,” Seokmin snapped, his voice lowering. “This is my house. I know what’s best for Jisoo. You’re just a visitor here.”

But Jihoon had had enough. His hand moved before he could stop himself, and he slapped Seokmin across the face, the sound of it sharp and resonating in the quiet room. Seokmin staggered, his eyes widening with shock, his cheek reddening from the force of the blow.

“How dare you,” Jihoon hissed, his voice trembling with fury. “I trusted you. I thought you were someone who cared about people, who’d do anything for the ones he loves. But this…” He gestured toward Jisoo, who was watching with wide, fearful eyes, his hands gripping the edge of the couch as if it were the only thing anchoring him to reality. “This isn’t love. This is cruelty.”

Seokmin’s face twisted, his expression a mixture of anger and humiliation. “You don’t understand, Jihoon. You don’t know what we have. Jisoo and I… we’re bound together. We’re meant to be together.”

Jihoon looked at him, a sick feeling settling in his stomach as he saw the desperation in Seokmin’s eyes. “If this is what you call love, then I’m ashamed to be your brother,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper, laced with disgust. He turned to Jisoo, who looked as though he were about to collapse. “Jisoo,” he murmured softly, reaching out his hand. “Come with me. Please.”

Jisoo looked between Jihoon and Seokmin, his face stricken, his eyes filled with an agonizing mixture of hope and fear. “I… I don’t know if…”

“It’s okay,” Jihoon said, his voice firm, a promise in his tone. “You don’t have to stay here anymore. You’re coming with me.”

Seokmin’s expression turned to one of horror, and he reached out, grabbing Jisoo’s arm with a fierce grip. “You can’t take him,” he said, his voice rising. “He belongs here. With me.”

Jihoon pulled Jisoo closer, a fierce protectiveness blazing in his eyes. “Let go of him,” he said, his tone deadly. “You have no right to keep him here.”

But Seokmin’s grip only tightened, his face twisted with desperation as he looked at Jisoo, his voice trembling. “Jisoo, please. Don’t go. Don’t leave me. You know you can’t survive without me. I’m the only one who understands you, the only one who can keep you safe.”

Jisoo’s lip trembled, and he looked down, guilt and confusion swirling in his expression. But Jihoon wouldn’t let Seokmin’s words sway him. He tugged Jisoo’s arm firmly, pulling him away from Seokmin’s grasp.

“Don’t listen to him, Jisoo,” Jihoon said, his voice filled with conviction. “He’s trying to manipulate you. He doesn’t care about you — not in the way that matters. I’m taking you out of here.”

Seokmin’s face crumpled, his expression filled with despair and anger, and he shouted after them as Jihoon led Jisoo toward the door. “You’re going to regret this, Jihoon! You don’t know what you’re doing. He’s mine, and he’ll come back to me. He always does.”

But Jihoon didn’t look back, his focus solely on getting Jisoo to safety. He wrapped an arm around his shoulders, supporting him as they walked out of the house, Seokmin’s shouts fading behind them. Jisoo leaned against him, his body trembling with exhaustion and relief, and Jihoon felt his own heart ache as he held him close.

Once they reached Jihoon’s car, Jisoo collapsed in the passenger seat, his head in his hands, silent tears streaming down his face. Jihoon sat beside him, giving him the space he needed, waiting patiently until Jisoo could find the strength to speak.

“Thank you,” Jisoo finally whispered, his voice raw, barely audible. “I… I thought I’d never get out of there.”

Jihoon’s hand rested gently on Jisoo’s shoulder, his voice soft but filled with determination. “You don’t have to thank me. I’m sorry I didn’t realize sooner. I should’ve done something the first time I noticed things were off.”

Jisoo shook his head, a faint, broken smile tugging at his lips. “I… I didn’t even know how to ask for help. I thought… I thought I deserved it, somehow.”

Jihoon’s hand tightened on his shoulder. “No. No one deserves to go through what you did, Jisoo. And you’re safe now. I’ll make sure of it.” He reached over, offering a tissue, his touch gentle as he wiped the remnants of blood from Jisoo’s forehead, mindful of the bruises.

Jisoo looked at Jihoon, gratitude and trust shining in his tear-filled eyes, a spark of the person he once was beginning to return. “Thank you,” he murmured again, his voice firmer this time. “For giving me my freedom back.”

Jihoon nodded, swallowing down his own anger and sadness. “You’re not alone anymore, Jisoo. You’ll never be alone again.”