Personal Sunrise

Eternity

Jonghyun’s POV

                The unrelenting carpet pressed against the back of my head roughly. A dull ache resonated throughout my skull as the cold metal of the knife sent a burning pain across my neck.

                As suddenly as it had come, Key’s hand left mine, and I closed my fingers desperately over lonely, empty air. I didn’t dare turn my head to discover his reason for leaving.

                “Where do you think you’re going, boy?” His father growled, turning his head to glance over his shoulder. The action caused his knee to dig deeper into my chest, and an involuntary cry of pain escaped from between my lips before I had a chance to stop it.

                Key’s father jerked his head back around, his hazy, evil eyes focusing on my agonized expression. “He’ll be easier to kill than you,” he hissed, tightening his grip on the knife’s worn handle. “I’ll deal with him later.”

                “No,” I gasped, reaching up painfully and wrapping my fingers around his wrist. I clawed desperately at his fingers as a soft black haze slowly painted the edges of my vision.

                A sudden, dull thud rang throughout the house. The pressure vanished from my chest, and I choked as air rushed into my lungs once more, clearing my eyesight and my thoughts. For a moment I remained in the same position, exhausted and dazed. I ran a hand carefully over my neck and sighed in relief when my fingers came away clean.

                “Jonghyun, get up!” A beautiful, urgent voice filtered through the air, winding itself into my consciousness and shocking my heart into action. I glanced up to see Key standing over his father’s limp form, an innocent-looking frying pan clutched in his fist.

                Although the situation didn’t warrant it in the slightest, I began to laugh.

                Key’s eyes widened, and he took a tentative step forward. “Jjong, are you all right?”

                I waved a hand dismissively and gestured toward the pan in his hand. “Did you seriously just take your father out with a frying pan?”

                He glanced down at the heavy piece of cookware, a surprised look playing across his features. “Well…ne.” He quickly dropped the pan to the carpet and folded his arms defensively. “Yah, it was the only option, all right? And I wouldn’t be laughing if I were you. I think you just got a very good demonstration on how deadly kitchen utensils can be.” He pointed to the knife that was now nestled among the sparse fibers of the carpet.

                I looked away as the light glinted off the crimson blood that laced the bright metal. I shook my head and struggled to my feet, reaching out blindly when my head began to spin sickeningly. Key grabbed my hand in his, and the world instantly righted itself.

                “Thanks,” I whispered.

                “We need to get out of here,” he said forcefully, striding toward the door without letting go of my hand. “I don’t want to be here when he wakes up.”

                I followed obediently, warily scanning the thin lines of blood that were beginning to dry along my arm. Key followed my gaze as he stepped across the threshold.

                “Damn it,” he muttered, pushing the door back open. “We’d better get that cleaned up before we go anywhere.”