NO-ONE ~YEONGYU FF

THE CONFRONTATION

Ch-12
★

..
The hospital smelled like disinfectant and sorrow.

Yeonjun sat outside Beomgyu's room, his head in his hands, his body trembling with exhaustion. He hadn't slept in days. The sterile white walls pressed down on him, reminding him with every breath that Beomgyu was lying inside because of him, because of the syringes he had pressed into his skin with shaking hands, because of his need to hold on too tightly.

But in Yeonjun's heart, twisted and breaking, one thought kept gnawing at him:

"He wouldn't have needed any of this if Taehyun hadn't come between us."

Every memory of Beomgyu laughing with Taehyun replayed like broken film reels, smiles, touches on the shoulder, easy comfort. Each scene tore into Yeonjun's chest like claws. And now, Beomgyu lay weak and pale, unresponsive, while Taehyun walked free.

Yeonjun couldn't accept that.

.....

He found Taehyun that night.

The younger man was leaving his apartment, earbuds in, unaware of the storm barreling toward him. Yeonjun grabbed him by the collar and slammed him against the wall of the stairwell, rage burning in his eyes.

"You did this!" Yeonjun's voice was raw, like glass tearing his throat. "You poisoned him against me! If you hadn't been there, he'd still be mine. He wouldn't have run, he wouldn't have fought me. None of this would've happened!"

Taehyun shoved at his chest, eyes wide but unflinching. "Are you insane? Beomgyu's in the hospital because of you! You stuck needles in him like he was some experiment! Do you even hear yourself right now?"

Yeonjun's hands tightened, shaking with fury. "I was protecting him. You'll never understand! I gave him what he needed, peace, safety, love. You--you tried to take him from me."

Taehyun's voice rose, sharp and cutting. "That's not love, Yeonjun. That's control. That's obsession. Do you think anyone wants to be trapped with a man who injects them until they can't move? You're sick. You're psychotic."

The words hit like knives. For a moment, Yeonjun froze, the truth of them hovering in the air like a shadow he couldn't escape. His grip faltered, his breath ragged.

But then the rage surged again, louder than reason, louder than guilt.

"Shut up!" he screamed, driving his fist into Taehyun's jaw. The crack echoed in the stairwell. Taehyun staggered, blood blooming at the corner of his lip, but he didn't back down.

"You think you're saving him?" Taehyun spat, his voice hoarse. "Look at what you've done! He can't even stand because of you. He can't smile. He can't live. You've already lost him, Yeonjun. You're not his savior, you're his curse."

Yeonjun saw red.

His fists struck again and again, fueled by grief, guilt, and the desperate need to silence the truth. Taehyun crumpled under the blows, groaning, his breaths labored.

Still, Yeonjun didn't stop.

Every strike was another thought he couldn’t face. Every bruise on Taehyun's body was punishment for daring to exist in Beomgyu's orbit.

Finally, Taehyun lay on the ground, barely conscious, his voice a rasp. "One day… Beomgyu will see you for what you are. And he'll never… come back to you."

The words hollowed Yeonjun out more than the violence ever could. He stumbled back, fists bloodied, chest heaving, staring down at what he'd done.

Taehyun's broken body wasn't victory. It was proof. Proof that maybe Taehyun was right. Proof that Yeonjun had become the monster he swore he never was.

....

Later, back in the hospital room, Yeonjun sat again at Beomgyu's bedside. His hands shook as he traced the outline of Beomgyu's pale fingers.

Taehyun's words replayed in his head, over and over, louder than his own heartbeat.

Psychotic. Curse. Not love.

For the first time, Yeonjun wondered if he had been wrong all along. If his love had truly been poison from the start.

He wept into Beomgyu's still hand, whispering through broken sobs:

"Tell me I can change, Gyu. Please. Tell me I'm not too late."

But Beomgyu didn't answer. His silence was heavier than any scream.

And Yeonjun realized that silence might be the only answer he deserved.

......

"I broke my hands on the walls I built,
Blamed the world for the cracks inside me.
But every bruise I gave was carved on you,
And I can't forgive myself for bleeding you dry."