CHAPTER NINETEEN

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TW // violence, blood, murder, death

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TW // violence, blood, murder, death

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There had been a series of events that had led up to the moment Chan was in, that moment being a state of absolute panic as he feverishly attempted to scrub the blood that had dried on his hands off in his bathroom sink. No matter how hard he scrubbed, no matter how much his hands burned from the pressure he was applying with the washcloth, there seemed to be a layer that refused to wash off. It settled in and found a home in the grooves of his palms and knuckles and under his fingernails, and Chan was convinced that it would take up a permanent residence to ensure everyone knew what he had done.

His breath was laboured, hot tears streaming down his face as he gave up and threw the cloth across the bathroom. He slid down to the floor, his hands curled up into fists and he pressed them against his eyes, trying to will himself to stop crying. He had done this to himself, he had no right to cry when this was a decision he had made on his own and would now have to deal with the consequences. Chan clenched his jaw, his teeth gritting before letting out a scream and allowing himself to cry out in frustration.

Chan didn't deserve an ounce of sympathy, and yet he found himself longing for someone to tell him that everything would be okay, that what he had done was necessary. He wanted forgiveness, absolution, even though he deserved the complete opposite.

He found the strength to pick himself up off the bathroom floor, and drag himself towards the shower. He reached up to turn on the water and stripped out of the bloodstained clothes that now felt too tight and heavy on his skin. Chan sat on the shower floor, curling in on himself as the scalding water draped over his pale skin. He didn't care about the temperature, he just wanted to hot water to wash away everything he had done, the sin that was now engraved on every inch of him.

The tears had finally stopped, his breathing had slowed, what was left of the blood on his hands swirling down the shower drain. Now all that was left was the numbness. Chan felt absolutely nothing, but guilt, regret and fear. He reached up to turn off the water, picking himself up once again to drag himself to his bed. He had no energy or strength to do anything else, all he wanted to do was sleep and forget about everything for a couple of hours.

He crawled into bed, bringing the sheets up and over his head, engulfing himself in darkness. His eyelids were heavy, and he allowed himself the bliss of falling into a deep sleep. He would deal with the aftermath of what he had done in the morning, he would plan his next move when his eyes finally opened again. But, for now, he would let himself forget.

"I think we should slow down a bit, take a break."

That one sentence had spiralled Chan to his breaking point. He had stared at Misun in disbelief, not knowing where this decision was coming from. They had returned to Seoul and everything had been fine for weeks. Nothing had changed between them, they were in love. Until the day Misun decided to completely derail how fine Chan thought they were.

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