POISONED YOUTH: TWISTED

CHAPTER 32

"Now, let's take you somewhere, hm?"

The unfamiliar voice was enough to pull Yeoreum deeper into the fear already consuming her. Her body had gone completely rigid, unable to respond as the sharp pressure against her torso reminded her too much of the night at the theater. 

Then a cold voice cut through the fear.

"Hands off."

The man cursed under his breath. He recognized that voice.

Before he could even turn around, a pair of strong arms wrapped tightly around his neck and yanked him backward, forcing his grip away from Yeoreum.

Her frail body immediately collapsed to the ground, her legs giving out beneath her as she struggled to catch her breath. She couldn't move a single muscle, and the only thing she could manage was biting down on her lower lip to keep her cries from escaping while tears gathered in her eyes.

Behind her, Haechan tightened his hold around the man's neck, his anger evident in the force of his grip. The man desperately struggled to free himself, clawing at Haechan's arms and trying to regain enough air to fight back, but the lack of oxygen quickly drained whatever strength he had left.

Within moments, his body went limp in Haechan's arms, and Haechan finally released him, letting him fall heavily to the ground before immediately turning his attention to the girl sitting helplessly on the pavement.

He rushed toward Yeoreum and dropped to his knees in front of her, his expression changing the moment he saw her face.

"Yeoreum..."

Her trembling eyes met his.

"Get him," she whispered, her voice barely audible beneath her uneven breathing. "Get him away."

Haechan's jaw tightened as he glanced briefly at the unconscious man before returning his attention to her. He could feel everything she was feeling through their bond, and that alone was enough to make his chest ache.

Her fear wasn't something he could simply observe from the outside. It was running through him as well, allowing him to feel the panic, helplessness, and terror she was desperately trying to control.

He gently cupped her cheeks and tilted her face upward, only for his heart to sink at the sight of tears sliding down her skin. He had seen Yeoreum cry before, but this was different. She wasn't crying because she was upset with him or because he had said something harsh. She was terrified, and he could feel exactly how deeply the encounter had shaken her.

"Stop crying, please."

Instead, his words only made her cry harder.

Her shoulders trembled as another sob escaped her, and her breathing became increasingly uneven while Haechan felt every wave of emotion through their connection. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, trying to steady himself as the memories she was experiencing became almost impossible for him to ignore.

Without saying anything else, Haechan pulled her against his chest and placed one hand firmly against the back of her head. Yeoreum immediately nuzzled closer, her fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt as tightly as she could, as if his embrace was the only thing keeping her grounded.