1.1 | Desiderium ✓

14| fourteen

Shin's eyes were heavy. He had to force them apart to see how crimson pooled from his mouth on the marble floor.

It was just him, and YoonJae. Alone. The whole corridor must be empty, since the final bell had rang an hour ago. Shin felt more blood hurl up his throat, mixed with bile. He couldn't feel his legs, or his arms. Just the steady beat of his heart.

Thump

Thump

Thump

He was alive.

"No," Shin murmured weakly. His powerless hands fell to his sides and he couldn't even shield himself from being hit. Straight on his temple. Shin winced. Bright red spots danced in his vision.

"Fuck you— be a fucking man, get up and defend yourself!" YoonJae growled in his ear, and threw his limp body across a countertop. Shin's back hit a chemical shelf.

Pretty boys like you.

No, this couldn't be happening right now. Not a good time—

"Why is it like this?" He heard YoonJae's footsteps come forward and forward, until his foot rested on Shin's face. "Is it because —" his foot, shoes with spikes, "— of your fucking—" he pressed, "— pretty face?"

It's because of your pretty face.

"No," Shin couldn't even hear his own voice. His body ached so bad, he wanted to run away and hide behind his grandfather. But, why was he alone with YoonJae? Hadn't he begged that senior for protection, then why was he alone?

Count till a thousand —

"It's just you and me, kid. If I were to kill you, no one would see, no one would mind. I am pretty sure orphans like you don't have anyone in this world."

It should have been you who died, not your mother.

The firm grip on his throat silenced him. That touch, filthy disgusting hands that clamped his mouth shut as tears rolled from his eyes. "Call for help, pretty boy, no one will come." Shin's breath stuck in his throat. He didn't want to relive that, how bad he had tried to forget them, suppress them.

"Go on, fucking scream for help, pretty whore. No one will come." YoonJae pummeled his gut with his clenched fists, and Shin coughed up more blood.

"Should I just destroy it?"

"No... please!"

YoonJae raised his fist, bringing it down and stopping just centimeters away from his skin.

"How about I destroy it? Then no one will like you. Problem solved."

No one will like you, if you tell them.

"No... no, no, no," Shin's chest constricted and his eyes rolled backwards, deathly stars dancing in his temples and the sound of ringing in his ears, like a devil's laughter.

YoonJae's other hand forced Shin's face upwards, inches away from his sneering, dark eyes. "No one will like you then."

Was it his own darkness YoonJae inflicted on Shin, or was it because he truly hated Shin, it was a question Shin could never understand, even in the later years of his life. But all he knew that day was how that how bad it hurt on his face.

They kept on coming, those punches. One, two, three...

Count till a thousand —

Shin lost count somewhere in the middle.