I N U R E

In the darkness

As Yeonjun napped peacefully in the room two doors down, a few hours passed. It was already five in the morning, and Beomgyu's eyelids began to open gradually, faced with an unfamiliar setting; it wasn't his room. He jolted up, his chest breathing heavily, and clutched the sheets toward his chest.
He looked around the low-lit space to see things he never had in his room; he then realized it wasn't his. Beomgyu looked down to see his apparel changed. His mind raced so many aspects he felt his head begin to ache. Beomgyu's neck was uncomfortable as well, where the needle had was plunged harshly by Yeonjun; he rubbed his neck in irritation. He slowly stood up out of bed, his gazes laid on the table with the glasses of water next to it. He grabbed one and smelled of it before drinking it down; the cool liquid soothes his throat that was dry.

He dabbed his mouth and placed the glass back on the tray; it made a subtle noise as it did that echoed through the room. His eyes surveyed the room, he saw the bathroom light on, and he saw the enormous closet entry. Whoever this was is a rich person, but it wasn't Beomgyu's home. He went into the bathroom and stood in front of the mirror, peeking at his face. There weren't any scratches or marks; his hair was just wet and puffy. He glanced at his neck to see a purple mark where a needle had been injected. He knew something wasn't right as he caressed the spot that hurt.

He turned off the light and wandered toward the bedroom door; he opened it and saw the long dark corridor. He became worried about stepping out but preferred to go away from wherever he stood. He stepped his foot outside the door, and as he did, he heard a door creak open. His heart halted as someone walked out; he saw them through the tiny opening of the door he was spying through.

The person had black hair; it could hardly be seen in the dark corridor, the man glanced toward the bedroom, and Beomgyu panicked. He fled toward the bed and quickly slithered under the cover, fastening it around his face; he shut his eyelids as he listened to the door creak open.

He heard tiny footsteps shuffle toward the edge of the bed above him; his heart was throbbing so rapidly. Yeonjun roamed over toward the edge of the bed; he saw covers over the body. He slowly stopped in front of him, and his hand slowly reached toward the covers. He slowly grabbed them and tossed them to see the Beomgyu with closed eyes.

He could see he was awake due to the rapid breathing being done, shifting the blankets slightly. "Are you scared?" Yeonjun inquired, looking down at the boy's face, still draped by the puffy bangs. "Where Am I? Who are you?" He asked with a small voice. He was indeed frightenedby the intimidating man hovering above him. "You're in my house and Me? I'm Choi Yeonjun." Yeonjun replied; Beomgyu's eyes widened at the name.

Choi Yeonjun, the exact name he has heard it from his father. He was a man who wanted to bring his father's name down. "You, You're him," Beomgyu said under his breath as his eyes flickered around the room. His mind raced; he quickly yanked the glass of water and hurled it toward Yeonjun. The water zoomed over Yeonjun, soaking his shirt and face. The glass hit the floor and broke with a loud noise.

Beomgyu tried to stand up and run past Yeonjun toward the door, but Yeonjun jerked his wrist, and both fell back onto the bed. Yeonjun was there gripping his wrist tightly with both of his hands, his fingers almost leaving imprints. Beomgyu tried to struggle but only made himself exhausted.
Yeonjun blinked a few times as the water got into his eyes; he looked down at Beomgyu's apparent face.
"Why did you do that?" Yeonjun spoke with a sharp
voice. Beomgyu felt his eyes pierce into his very soul, he couldn't dare stare back.

Beomgyu avoided his eyes and looked to the side, still trying to remove himself. The water from Yeonjun's face seeped down from his hair onto his cheeks; it slowly dripped down his lips, then into his chin until it fell off into Beomgyu's cheek.
"How long are you going to struggle? you're not going anywhere." Yeonjun says, on the brim of laughing.
"You prefer to be like that? You leave me no option." Yeonjun held Beomgyu's wrist now with one hand and fiddled toward the dresser drawer at his nightstand for a needle.
He had prepared for this circumstance; he grabbed the needle and held it up in front of Beomgyu's eyes, which ceased his struggling.