BLOSSOMED | SEOKSOO FF ✔️

PART 26

"Wait," Jihoon said, his voice low but steady. Soonyoung, standing nearby, frowned, unsure of what Jihoon was about to reveal.

Mingyu and Wonwoo exchanged a glance, stepping closer.

"You want the truth?" Jihoon asked, his eyes locked on the floor. "Fine. I'll tell you. But I don't think it'll help you sleep at night."

The room grew eerily quiet, the only sound the faint hum of the heater. Jihoon's voice trembled as he began.

"Our family has always been... twisted. We had this picture-perfect image-a successful father, a doting grandfather, and us, the golden boys of the Lee family. But behind closed doors, it was different."

Jihoon clenched his jaw, his fists tightening on the cushion. "Our father and grandfather? They were tyrants. Controlling. Abusive. Not just emotionally, but physically. They had this warped sense of discipline-one mistake, and you'd pay for it. Seokmin was the one who bore the brunt of it because he was the potential heir. He was their 'heir,' the one who had to be perfect. But no matter what he did, it was never enough."

Soonyoung's mouth parted slightly, his shock evident, but he stayed silent, letting Jihoon continue.

Flashback

Thirteen-year-old Seokmin walked into the house, cradling a small, scruffy cat he had found trembling by a dumpster. Its fur was matted, its ribs visible beneath its thin coat, but its wide, trusting eyes filled Seokmin's chest with something unfamiliar-a quiet warmth, a sense of purpose.

He named the cat Dandelion, for its soft golden fur that reminded him of the resilient weeds growing between the cracks in the concrete outside their cold, pristine house. It was the first thing Seokmin had chosen for himself, the first living creature he'd allowed himself to care for.

But his father and grandfather didn't see it that way.

"It's a distraction," his father barked the moment he saw the cat. His sharp voice echoed in the sterile living room, the sound bouncing off the pristine marble floors. "You have no time for pets. You barely have time to be a son worth anything."

Seokmin shrank back, clutching Dandelion closer to his chest, his fingers trembling. "I'll take care of him. You won't even notice he's here."

His grandfather scoffed, his deep, gravelly tone cutting through the boy's protest. "A soft heart leads to a weak man. And we don't raise weak men in this family."

They begrudgingly tolerated Dandelion's presence for a few days, but their distaste was palpable. The cat's soft purring at night, the way it rubbed against Seokmin's legs in affection-it all became an irritant to them. His grandfather sneered every time he saw the creature, muttering about how it would make Seokmin lose focus. His father eyed it with disgust, as if it were some filthy rodent that had invaded their orderly lives.

Seokmin tried his best to keep Dandelion safe. He fed him scraps from his meals, made a small bed for him in the corner of his room, and whispered to him when the house was too quiet, sharing secrets he'd never dared to tell anyone.

But one evening, everything shattered.

Seokmin returned home from school to find his room eerily empty. Dandelion's makeshift bed was untouched, his food bowl gone. Panic surged in his chest as he ran through the house, calling the soft little name he had given the cat. "Dandelion! Where are you? Dandelion!"

He burst into the kitchen, breathless, and froze. His father and grandfather sat at the dining table, their faces stone-cold, the remains of a meal scattered in front of them. On the counter sat Dandelion's small, empty bowl, smeared with remnants of something white and powdery.

Seokmin's heart sank. His throat tightened as his father spoke, his tone casual yet laced with cruelty.

"That filthy creature won't bother you anymore."

Seokmin's vision blurred, and his knees nearly buckled. "W-What did you do?" His voice cracked, trembling with disbelief.

His grandfather leaned back in his chair, smirking. "We gave it a meal it deserved. Poisoned food for a poisoned distraction. You'll thank us one day, boy. Now you can focus on being something worthwhile."

The words hit Seokmin like a thunderclap, but his mind raced. No. They wouldn't. He ran outside, calling desperately for Dandelion. The empty yard echoed with his cries, the silence suffocating.

And then he saw it-a faint trail of pawprints leading to the back gate. Relief surged through him. The cat ran away. It must've smelled the poison and escaped.

But that relief was fleeting, quickly replaced by a dark, seething fury. His heart twisted as he walked back inside, their smug faces igniting something primal within him. The warmth Dandelion had filled him with was gone, replaced by a cold, steely resolve.

That night, Seokmin acted with a calculated precision that belied his young age. He sneaked into the pantry, retrieved the rat poison his grandfather had used, and meticulously mixed it into their morning tea leaves. His hands were steady, his breath even.

In the morning, his father and grandfather drank their tea as usual, their scornful eyes barely acknowledging him. Seokmin watched silently from the corner, his expression blank, as they sipped.

It didn't take long. First came the coughing, then the choking. His father clutched at his throat, his grandfather collapsing to the floor, their eyes wide with panic and betrayal. Seokmin didn't move, didn't speak. He simply watched as the two men who had taken everything from him crumbled before him.

When it was over, he calmly cleaned the table, wiped the cups, and placed them back in the cupboard as if nothing had happened. To the outside world, it was a tragic accident-two men carelessly ingesting rat poison. No one questioned it further.

But Seokmin knew.

In the days that followed, he wandered the streets, searching tirelessly for Dandelion. He called the cat's name until his voice was hoarse, checked every alley, every corner. But Dandelion was gone, leaving behind an ache that never truly faded.

From that day forward, Seokmin vowed that nothing and no one would take away what he loved again. If he had to control them, cage them, or even hurt them to keep them safe, so be it. Love wasn't soft, wasn't kind-it was a battle, a war to keep what mattered close.

And he would never lose again.

It's lame right.. But it's real... :)))