BLOSSOMED | SEOKSOO FF ✔️

PART 18

The air in the hospital was tense, the quiet hum of fluorescent lights contrasting sharply with the chaotic scene unfolding within Seokmin's room. As Jisoo and Jeonghan arrived, escorted by a nurse, they could hear the muffled sounds of shouting, followed by the unmistakable crash of something shattering.

Jihoon, who was waiting near the door, rushed to meet them, his face pale and strained. "He's... he's having another episode," he stammered, his voice thick with guilt and worry.

Jisoo froze in place, his heart pounding in his chest. For a moment, he felt Jeonghan's protective hand on his shoulder, steadying him.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Jeonghan asked, his voice low and cautious.

Jisoo swallowed hard, his resolve firm despite the fear clawing at him. "I need to see him," he said quietly.

Inside the room, Seokmin was a whirlwind of rage and despair. His hair was disheveled, and his eyes were bloodshot and wild. He was pacing back and forth, his hands clutching at his head as if trying to physically pull his thoughts out. Nearby, a lamp lay shattered on the floor, its sharp fragments scattered like his fragmented mind.

"I don't deserve this! I don't deserve anything!" Seokmin screamed, his voice cracking under the weight of his emotions. He grabbed a chair, lifting it as if to hurl it across the room, but his trembling arms gave out, and it clattered to the ground instead.

Two nurses rushed forward to restrain him, their movements practiced but cautious. Seokmin fought against them weakly, his cries turning into guttural sobs. "Leave me alone! Let me suffer! It's what I deserve!"

"Sedatives," one of the nurses instructed, and another quickly prepared the syringe. Jihoon turned away, unable to watch, as the needle pierced Seokmin's arm. Within moments, his thrashing slowed, his screams dissolving into quiet, broken murmurs.

Jisoo stepped closer, his breath catching as he saw Seokmin more clearly.

The man who had once loomed over him with control and fury now looked pitiful, almost childlike in his torment. His face was pale, gaunt, and streaked with tears, and his body slumped into the chair as the sedatives took effect.

Jeonghan stayed behind Jisoo, his sharp eyes scanning the scene, ready to intervene at the first sign of danger. "This is what you came to see?" he whispered harshly. "This broken, pathetic mess of a man?"

"Stop, Jeonghan," Jisoo murmured. His tone wasn't harsh, but there was a quiet firmness in it that made Jeonghan bite back his retort.

Slowly, Jisoo approached Seokmin, his movements cautious. The nurses gave him wary looks but stepped aside when Jihoon gestured for them to let him through.

Seokmin's head lolled slightly, his eyes fluttering open as Jisoo knelt in front of him. For a moment, there was no recognition in Seokmin's gaze, just a distant, glassy emptiness.

"It's me," Jisoo said softly, his voice trembling despite his best efforts to stay calm. "It's Jisoo. Your Bluebell."

At the sound of his name, something flickered in Seokmin's eyes. A faint spark of awareness, quickly overshadowed by shame. He tried to turn away, his body weak and uncooperative. "Why... why are you here Bluebell?" he muttered, his voice hoarse.

Jisoo hesitated, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. "Because Jihoon asked me to," he admitted. "And because... I wanted to see if you were okay."

Seokmin let out a bitter laugh, though it sounded more like a choked sob. "Okay? Do I look okay to you, Bluebell?" He gestured weakly to the mess around him, the broken glass and overturned furniture. "I'm a monster, Bluebell. You of all people should know that."

Jisoo's chest ached at the raw self-loathing in Seokmin's voice. "You're not a monster," he said quietly, though the words felt strange on his tongue. "You're... you're sick, Seokmin. And you need help."

"I don't deserve help, Bluebell. Not after how I ruined you." Seokmin hissed, his anger flaring briefly before fading into exhaustion. "I deserve to rot in this place, alone, until there's nothing left of me."

Jisoo glanced back at Jeonghan, who was watching the exchange with a mixture of skepticism and concern. Jihoon was standing off to the side, his hands pressed to his mouth as if trying to hold back his emotions.

"You don't have to stay like this," Jisoo said, turning back to Seokmin. "There's a way out. But you have to take it. You have to let people help you."

Seokmin's gaze locked onto Jisoo's, and for a moment, he looked like the man Jisoo had once known-confident, in control, and utterly unbreakable. But the mask shattered quickly, and tears began to spill down his cheeks.

"I don't know how," Seokmin admitted, his voice barely a whisper. "I don't know how to fix this. I don't know how to fix myself."

Jisoo reached out, hesitating for a moment before placing a hand on Seokmin's arm. "You don't have to do it alone," he said softly. "But you have to try."

Behind them, Jeonghan sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose. "If you're going to convince him, do it quickly," he said. "Because I don't think I can stand another minute in this room."

Jihoon stepped forward then, his voice breaking as he said, "Seokmin, please. Don't do this to yourself. Don't do this to us."

Seokmin looked between the three of them, his expression a mixture of confusion, regret, and something close to hope. For the first time in weeks, he didn't argue. He didn't lash out.

He simply nodded.