𝑃𝑟𝑖𝑠𝑜𝑛 / 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑠𝑢𝑛𝑔

S2 ch 71

It was late. The living room glowed softly under the dim lights, and everyone was sprawled across the floor, wrapped in pillows and blankets. The mood was peaceful, for once—no teasing, no shouting, just a rare quiet moment.

Jisung leaned his back against Minho, and Hyunjin rested his head on a throw pillow. Jiwon sat close to Rafayel, knees pulled up to his chest, his side brushing against Rafayel’s arm.

The conversation had drifted from silly stories about past crushes to weird dreams and embarrassing childhood moments. But then the energy in the room shifted when Bangchan, more serious than usual, glanced at Rafayel and asked gently, “Hey… we’ve all talked about our pasts a little. But we’ve never heard yours. Do you ever want to share it?”

The room quieted. Rafayel looked surprised for a second. He shifted, running a hand through his now dark brown hair before giving a small, dry laugh. “No one ever really asks,” he said. “Probably ‘cause they’re too scared of what the answer might be.”

“No pressure,” Minho added, eyeing him. “But… I think we all wonder. You’ve changed a lot. Maybe it’d help us understand you better.”

Rafayel paused for a moment, then exhaled slowly. His voice was low, steady—but with a sharp edge, like he was forcing the words out before they could cut him deeper.

“My mom was shot in front of me,” he said. “On my birthday.”

The room fell completely silent.

“I was seven. We were supposed to have cake. I still remember… she smiled at me right before it happened. Then…” He gestured vaguely, like he couldn’t bring himself to say it in detail.

Jiwon blinked, stunned. His body tensed next to Rafayel.

“She died in my arms,” Rafayel continued, almost too quietly. “And after that, my dad… flipped. He got worse. I was too soft, he said. Too weak to be his son. So he made sure I’d grow into someone who wasn’t.”

Hyunjin swallowed hard. “That’s messed up…”

“I had no choice,” Rafayel said. “I grew up learning how to pull a trigger before I knew how to ride a bike. Yes, I’ve killed people. Yes… I’ve done bad things. Even to you, Jiwon.” His voice softened as he turned to Jiwon. “I know you don’t remember… but I’ve hurt you. And I live with that guilt every day.”

Jiwon’s eyes widened. He didn’t know what to say. He could feel his heart thudding in his chest. So this was the truth—this was the shadow Rafayel carried.

“But I don’t want to be that guy anymore,” Rafayel added, eyes flicking down. “I don’t want to be like my father. I want to protect people, not break them.”

Everyone sat in stunned silence. Minho looked conflicted but said nothing. Jisung stared at Rafayel, his expression unreadable. Bangchan gave a small nod of understanding.

Jiwon, however, felt his chest ache. So many questions crowded his mind. Did I love him before? Why did I let him hurt me? Is this the same person I’ve started liking again?

He didn’t say anything. But slowly, softly, he leaned his head on Rafayel’s shoulder.

Rafayel stiffened in surprise, then relaxed, turning to glance at him.

“I don’t know everything,” Jiwon mumbled, eyes half-lidded. “And yeah, I have so many questions I don’t even know where to start. But I still like you. Even if your past is dark.”

Rafayel swallowed hard. His jaw clenched like he was trying to stop his emotions from breaking through. “You shouldn’t,” he whispered. “Not after what I’ve done.”