Beomgyu was always hidden away, for no ones eyes.
That was until Yeonjun's curiosity got the better of him.
Inure; to accustom (someone) to something, especially something unpleasant.
Warning: includes violence, toxic behaviors proceed at own risk...
He jerked Yeonjun's face and collided his lips jointly with his. Yeonjun was taken back by this action, and his intemperate mind was just as shocked as his sober would be. Yeonjun felt himself become relaxed as he comprehended what was going on; his fingers ultimately let go of the needle he clutched. Beomgyu felt around for it while still kissing him; his fingers skimmed it and slid it under the dresser.
Yeonjun began kissing him back; Beomgyu's eyes broadened; he didn't foresee that to escalate as it did, or actually at all. Yeonjun's hand eventually found itself positioned on Beomgyu's face. Beomgyu felt Yeonjun shifting his weight toward him, which made Beomgyu's back lay on the floor. Yeonjun was hovering over him, his lips never coming off. He hands-on both sides of Beomgyu's head as he continued to kiss him.
Beomgyu felt his fingers touching around the floor for the familiar needle feeling; his fingers found it and pulled it into his hand. Then, in a quick gesture, he jabbed it in the side of Yeonjun's neck not once but three times, but he didn't push the end for the liquid to discharge or any air to go into his veins. Yeonjun yelled out in pain, hunched over as Beomgyu pushed him off him; he ran outside the bedroom toward the front door. By the time he made it there, Yeonjun had grabbed the needle out of his neck, the blood trickling down into his shirt; he rushes outside the door into the hallway. He almost misstepped as he held the doorframe. He suddenly felt dizzy; he stumbled down the stairs toward the front door to see Beomgyu trying to open it. His fingers struggled to open the numerous locks he had. He had to get out it was his only chance, he didn't know what consequence he would have if caught or staying any longer.
"Don't, don't go," Yeonjun mumbles in a quiet voice as he walked toward him and collapsed. Beomgyu ended up seizing him in his arms; he started to feel a wave of remorse wash over him. Remorse for someone that kidnapped him. "Yeonjun, Wake up. Wake up." He swatted his cheek, but he was knocked out cold. He had a perfect opportunity to flee now, but why didn't he? Was it guilt? Was it its obligation? Did he feel wrong? "I'm sorry. I'm sorry." Beomgyu felt a liquid run down his cheek, a tear. 'Why am I crying?' He dabbed his tears away and sniffled.
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"What happened here?" The Butler came scrambling forward. "I—," Beomgyu couldn't form his words as he sobbed out. "I'll take him to his room, Don't worry." The Butler carried Yeonjun to his room.The butler gently placed Yeonjun on the bed, Beomgyu pursuing behind. "I'll clean him up," Beomgyu says under his husky voice from crying. "Let me know if you need anything." The Butler left the two alone.
Beomgyu wandered inside the bathroom; he fiddled around the cabinet for bandages and disinfectant. He found it and rushed back to the bedside; he sat and held his finger against the neck to feel a pulse still. He mentally sighed to alleviate himself and grabbed the disinfectant; he dabbed it on a cloth and placed it on the small but fatal injection site.
He fastened the bandage around Yeonjun's neck, making sure it stayed in place. He was expecting he would wake up soon; he felt the sorrow wash over again as he returned the items to the bathroom. 'I acted out of spite; I didn't mean to do that.' He thinks to himself as he rinsed his bloody hands; he had the blood of Yeonjun on him. He felt his heart start to sting at the site; he inflicted all of this.
