𝑃𝑟𝑖𝑠𝑜𝑛 / 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑠𝑢𝑛𝑔

S3 ch 86

The apartment felt heavier than usual, as if the walls themselves were holding their breath.

Jiwon sat curled in the corner of the couch, hoodie up, eyes sunken and hollow. His fingers trembled slightly, curled around the edge of a throw pillow like it was the only thing anchoring him to the room. The bottle of pills rested on the coffee table in front of him — unopened, untouched. It may as well have been a brick.

Rafayel stood by the window, glancing out occasionally but mostly watching Jiwon with tired, worried eyes. He hadn't left Jiwon’s side for days, but it felt like Jiwon had been slipping further and further away regardless — like watching someone drown behind glass.

“You haven’t eaten anything,” Rafayel said gently, almost pleading. “At least have a little soup. You need something in your stomach if you’re gonna take the meds.”

“Don’t tell me what I need,” Jiwon muttered without looking up. His voice was gravelly and low, worn from days of screaming and crying and silence.

“I’m not telling you, I’m just—”

“I said shut up!”

The room snapped with the suddenness of Jiwon’s voice. Rafayel flinched but didn’t respond. He was used to this now. Jiwon was like a wire pulled too tight — any pressure made him lash out. Still, it hurt. It always hurt.

The others had arrived that afternoon — Minho, Jisung, Hyunjin, Felix, and Chan — hoping their presence would help. They were quiet at first, watching Jiwon with varying degrees of worry and helplessness. Eventually, Jisung sat beside him, careful not to touch him.

“Do you want to go outside for a bit?” he asked, soft and kind. “Just a walk. I think it might help clear your head.”

Jiwon didn’t even answer — just gave a scoff and turned his face toward the back of the couch.

Minho tried to crack a joke, something about how bad Chan’s cooking was last night, but Jiwon didn’t laugh. When Felix reached out to rub his shoulder comfortingly, Jiwon slapped his hand away.

“Don’t f***ing touch me!” he snapped, standing abruptly.

Felix recoiled, stunned.

“Hey—” Hyunjin started, but Rafayel raised a hand to stop him.

“I don’t need any of you here,” Jiwon said coldly. “Go play friends somewhere else.”

“Jiwon,” Chan said, stepping forward cautiously. “They’re here because they care about you. We all do.”

“You care?” Jiwon let out a dry, humorless laugh. “You care when it’s convenient. You care when it makes you feel like a good person.”

“That’s not fair—” Rafayel’s voice rose.

“No, what’s not fair is being alive when I don’t want to be!” Jiwon suddenly shouted, face twisting in anguish. “I wake up and all I feel is nothing. I try to care, I try to feel better, but it’s like... it’s like I’m buried. And you all keep shoving me deeper by pretending this is something I can fix with a f***ing walk!”

There was silence. Thick, suffocating silence.

“You’re not the only one hurting, Jiwon,” Rafayel said through gritted teeth. “You think this is easy for us? Watching you tear yourself apart every day? You think we haven’t been scared out of our minds?!”

“Oh, poor you,” Jiwon sneered, stepping closer. “Must be so hard watching me fall apart while you get to live in your precious little sanity bubble.”