heart trap | beomjun / yeongyu

1

When Beomgyu was six, his mom saved up enough money to buy him a wish.

The word wish is a huge misnomer. You don't get to ask for anything. Magic is finicky like that; it doesn't like to listen to people. Even the most skilled magicians can only guarantee a positive outcome. What that positive outcome will be is anyone's guess.

According to his mom, she brought him to the most well-reviewed witch in the entire city. She lived near the water, in a grand mansion with polite staff. There was accolades galore stating the witch's feats–Magic of the Year, Most Consistent Wishgiver of 2005.

He was too young to remember any of this. He only knows because his mom repeats it to him in defence of the fact he ended up being fucking cursed.

The witch touted it as a blessing: Beomgyu's heart will always chase after who he likes. It's supposed to be romantic. There's something beautiful that comes with being so unwittingly vulnerable with someone, or at least that's the line his friends try to cheer him up with.

In reality, it's fucking annoying, and inconvenient, and often downright embarrassing. Imagine if every time you got the smallest, most superficial crush ever, your heart showed up on their doorstep?

And it's not a metaphorical heart like most people think it is when he tells them his curse. It's his literal fucking heart, ripped straight from his ribcage, dripping with blood and looking like the remains from a pack of vultures.

Beomgyu has had to deal with this shit for nearly two decades and he still gags every time he sees it.

Despite his affliction, Beomgyu isn't antisocial. Unlike his stupid roommate, who has an actual blessing and yet refuses to leave their apartment most of the time. No, Beomgyu refuses to let his wandering heart control him. It just means he needs to be very picky about who he falls for.

He tries to be, at least. It's not as easy as it sounds.

Whenever he wakes up in a pool of blood he just sighs, and today is no exception. There's a massive gaping hole in his chest and while he's numb to the pain now, there's still a moment when he first opens his eyes where the shock of it stings him.

He grabs the cloth set aside for this exact purpose and shoves it into the open wound. It won't do much in the long-term, but it should give him a bit of extra time before he passes out from blood loss.

"Soobin!" he screams, at the top of his lungs.

No response. Typical.

Careful not to slip on any blood, he hobbles out of bed and meanders his way down the hall. A trail of blood follows. They recently pooled their money together to invest in a cleaning dog, one of the ones that runs off of magicked photosynthesis. Partially because it was cute and partially because they were tired of scrubbing the floors themselves. It's been an excellent investment.

Soobin's door is thankfully open, and Beomgyu uses his meager amount of remaining strength to dramatically kick it open.

The lump under the sheets doesn't react. Scowling, Beomgyu falls flat on top of him.

"Hey!" Soobin yelps, knocking Beomgyu away. Beomgyu rolls onto his side, dislodged, and clutches at the cloth. Soobin scowls at him. "You're getting blood all over my sheets, dude."

"You didn't wake up when I called for you!" Beomgyu shouts back. He sniffles for effect and sits up, jabbing a finger at the cloth currently keeping him alive. "Help."

"I should just let you die," Soobin states, like death is an equal trade for Beomgyu waking Soobin up thirty minutes early.

"Soobin," Beomgyu grits out. "There are black spots in my vision."