𝑃𝑟𝑖𝑠𝑜𝑛 / 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑠𝑢𝑛𝑔

S2 ch 59

Sorry guys life been busy with college and work so i haven't had time to write a new chapther before now cause I finally have holidays!

So enjoy reading! And Happy Easter holidays! 🐣🐰

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The next morning, Jiwon awoke with a dull ache in his body, especially in his lower back. The night with Rafayel had been intense—physically and emotionally—and now he felt hollow. The sheets were tangled around him, cool against his skin, but they brought no comfort. The room was too quiet, too cold, too foreign. He hated it.

He hated the room.

He hated the island.

He hated waking up alone, every single day.

He buried himself under the covers, trying to escape the emptiness pressing down on his chest. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw flashes of home—Minho’s smile, Jisung’s laughter, the chaotic mess of their apartment. The way they made him feel seen. Loved.

Here, it was different. Rafayel was always gone—locked away in his office or running meetings or on endless calls. And when he was present, it still felt like he wasn’t really there.

Jiwon didn’t leave the bed that day. His stomach growled, but he ignored it. The maids knocked with food, but he didn’t respond. Hours passed, sunlight shifted across the floor, and eventually he dragged himself to the bathroom.

He didn’t bother taking his clothes off, just turned the water on warm and sat in the tub, fully dressed, letting it wash over him. Four hours. No music. No phone. Just the sound of water running, and the quiet scream inside his chest that he couldn’t let out.

When he finally locked the bathroom door and curled up, shivering under the spray, Rafayel noticed something was wrong.

He knocked once. “Jiwon?”

No answer.

Again, firmer. “Jiwon, open the door.”

Still silence.

Concern turning into worry, Rafayel sat down on the floor outside the bathroom. His voice softened, almost pleading. “Talk to me. Please.”

From the other side of the door came a quiet, shaky voice. “I want to go home… I want to see Minho and Jisung.”

There was a pause.

“You can’t,” Rafayel said gently. “You know it’s not safe.”

That was the wrong thing to say.

A storm burst from the other side of the door—Jiwon’s voice rose, breaking. “I don’t care! I don’t care if it’s not safe! You never listen to what I need! I miss them! I miss them so much and I’m stuck here like a prisoner while you pretend to care!”

The hurt in his voice was raw and sharp, slicing through the quiet hallway. Rafayel stayed silent for a moment, the words sinking in.

Then, barely audible, Jiwon added, “You don’t even love me... not really. You just want me here so you’re not alone.”

The words hit Rafayel like a punch to the chest.

The sharp edge of accusation in his voice left no room for doubt—Jiwon meant it. He felt unloved, abandoned, caged.

“I do love you,” Rafayel finally said, his voice soft but strained, almost breaking. “I’ve never stopped. Every day—”

“Then why don’t you act like it?!” Jiwon’s scream cracked through the air, raw and full of pain. “If you love me, why don’t you ever see me?! Why am I always alone?!”

Rafayel couldn’t answer.

Jiwon’s voice grew more desperate. “Why me, Rafayel? Why did you choose me? Why did you take me from everything I knew? Why did you kidnap me?!” The last words echoed like a slap.

He paused, and when he spoke again, it was quieter—tired, broken. “Why don’t you care about me the way they did? Why won’t you let me go back? Why this island? Why lock me up in this golden cage and pretend it’s love?”

There was a long silence. Rafayel leaned his forehead against the door. His mouth opened, but no words came. He had no answer. Every truth sounded ugly now. His justifications didn’t feel justified anymore.

Inside, Jiwon’s body trembled. He stared at the door, hoping for some kind of miracle, some explanation that would make any of it make sense. But none came.

Eventually, he stood.

Soaking wet, clothes clinging to his skin, he dried off slowly. His hands were shaking as he pulled on clean clothes—a loose hoodie, sweatpants, something soft and safe. Then, without a word, he unlocked the bathroom door and stepped out.

Rafayel looked up from the floor, startled. “Jiwon—”

But Jiwon didn’t stop. He walked past him, shoulders rigid, tears drying on his cheeks. He moved like a ghost, like someone who had already decided he wasn’t part of this place anymore.

Rafayel reached for him. “You can’t leave—”

Jiwon shoved his arm away. “Don’t touch me.”

But the second Jiwon stepped out into the hallway, Rafayel grabbed him from behind.

“What are you— Let go!” Jiwon yelled, twisting in his grip. He kicked and screamed, fists pounding against Rafayel’s chest as the man lifted him off his feet.

“Put me down! I swear to god, I’ll— I’ll kill you! I’ll hate you forever, Rafayel! You can’t keep me here like this!”

Rafayel said nothing. His jaw was tight, face unreadable, as he carried Jiwon back up the stairs. The more Jiwon struggled, the tighter his grip became—firm, but never cruel. Like he was trying to protect something already crumbling in his arms.

Back in the bedroom, Rafayel set him down gently, but Jiwon shoved him with all the strength he had left. “Get out! Get out of my room! I hate you!”

Rafayel stood there for a moment, chest rising and falling heavily, his hand curled into a fist. He looked at Jiwon like he wanted to say something—anything—but again, no words came. He turned and walked out, leaving the door half-closed behind him.

Jiwon sank to the floor. His knees hit the wood with a soft thud. And then, as the last bit of anger burned out in his chest, the grief took over.

He broke down completely.

Shaking sobs tore out of him as he curled in on himself, arms wrapped around his own body, trying to hold together what little he had left.

He cried for the friends and family he missed. For the life he lost. For the love that felt like a lie. For the boy he used to be, before all of this.

To be continued....