CONTAINS STRONG LANGUAGE, MINOR EXPLICIT CONTENT, USE OF WEAPONS, & ANGST
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I stuttered and sobbed as I leaned heavily against the door. It was pitch black inside the closet and I could just hear the light steps of Yura's feet as he walked to different places throughout the house. He came back to my door once or twice to fiddle with the bolt he'd screwed and pounded into place along its frame, but after that, all went quiet. I pleaded through the wood at my ex to let me go; lied that I would be good and that'd I'd behave as he told me to. No more games. I wouldn't try and run away. Anything to get out of that room.
"Do you think I'm that stupid!?" Yura snapped at me from the other side. I shut my eyes and tried to imagine the facial expressions that creased his rough, pale skin. "You probably think I am, considering you tried escaping."
Yura's breath lowered and I felt him shift down to the bottom of the door. He'd dropped down to my level close to the floor, probably kneeling, as if I were a pathetic little dog panting beneath him.
"Yura, let me out!" I cried. "Please!?"
"Why should I? You're not going to behave; I already know that. All you can think about is escaping and going back to those freaks back in Seoul!"
"I'm sorry!"
"You're not sorry." He scoffed and picked himself up off the ground. "Do you really think I'm that bad of a person, Yumin?"
Yes.
"No," I whimpered. "Yura, I'm s-sorry. I won't-"
"You won't, nothing, Yumin-ah. I'm not letting you out of there for a while."
A sob built up in my throat and I curled into myself. My arms were beginning to ache from being held so tightly behind me, but if I was in there long enough, soon something or other would distract me from the irritating feeling. I listened to the soft footsteps of my abuser as he padded away down the hall and left me by myself in the dark, cramped space of the broom closet. I could kick my legs out in front of me and be able to hit the opposite wall, roll about on the floor, and hit every corner of every surface in such a tight space. There I was again, two years later, the same place, but this time beaten and handcuffed with no sensible thought running through my head.
I was almost too calm for a situation such as that, but after so many years of Yura's bullshit, I'd learned only to settle down when things couldn't progress positively in my direction. I was trapped and I had no idea for how long. Now that time played a much more important role in my current position, I began to think of food. My stomach growled and I realized I hadn't eaten since the prior morning.
How long have I been in here? An hour. Two? It could've been nightfall for all I knew, but with no window and no light within the closet, I couldn't tell a damn thing.
I shouldn't have gone outside, I scolded myself. I should've told Yoongi and we could've called the cops.
"We could've called someone," I sniffled, but it was already too late for that. Yoongi would've alerted the authorities by now and they could've been out on the streets in search of me that very moment. What had Yura said? "Yumin's going to get into the truck, and we're going to drive away. You're not gonna call the police, you're not going to tail us, and if you do-"
The gun.
I whimpered at the feeling of the gun pressing down onto my temple as Jungkook, Yoongi, and Namjoon all stared out at me with fear widening their perfect eyes like saucers. He wouldn't have called anybody; Yoongi wanted me safe, but more importantly, he had to do what was best to keep the rest of the house out of harm's way. There was no point in saving me if it put them in a situation close to or even worse than my own.
I wouldn't bother counting the days. There was no point. How would I even know? I leaned heavily into the corner near the door that led to my only freedom. My escape. My eyes screwed shut in pain and acceptance that I would probably never get out of Yura's apartment. I'd gone full circle; pain, relief, and back again. There I was, bloodied and battered, with no way of getting out.
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Yura ripped the covers off of his bed in a rush, dragging them down the hall to the cramped bathroom that held a stacked washer and dryer. He shoved the blanket into the bottom tub and drenched it in detergent to rid the bloodstain Yumin had left behind. No one would know. Nobody had to know. Back when Yumin still lived with him, their arguments had always floated upstairs and next door to the neighbors, but after he'd forced her to show herself and reassure them with fake smiles and the innocent tilt of her cherubic face, he knew they'd mind their business. Although, after a year of complete silence, they'd bound to suspect something.
A little lie never hurt anybody, he told himself, and it sure wouldn't hurt him. There was no way he'd get caught. Not this time. Yura had about three and a half days left until he was legally supposed to appear in court, but he wasn't going. And, neither was Yumin. Last-minute plane tickets wouldn't be an issue to obtain, especially in the midst of such a deadly pandemic. Who in their right mind would be on their way to flee the country?
Me.
A plan was all laid out in Yura's mind. No credit cards, no online purchases, nothing with his name. He'd destroy Yumin's phone so that she had no contact with the outside world. With them. They'd start something new back in California. Or maybe they'd trek to another state. No one would ever find her and she'd be his forever. Yura's face twisted up into a sickening smile as he sat and listened to the sloshing of the blanket in its washer. No one was going to take Yumin from him. Not again.
Not ever.
Stepping out into the hall and shutting the bathroom door behind him, Yura sauntered into the kitchen to check the food stock he had left on his shelves. The refrigerator was nearly empty and he sighed with exhaustion as he slammed it shut again. He stood on his toes and pried open the cabinets one at a time, stepping back with a cough as a small mouse scurried across a stack of porcelain plates.
"Fucking disgusting."
He had to admit, his life had gone to shit since Yumin left him and he hadn't been able to do a damn thing for himself. There was a moment of gratitude when Rachel texted him out of the blue and began to come back to him. Her smile, the sway of her hips, her delicate touch as it traced along his sagging, paling skin. She'd cooked breakfast for him every morning for nearly a week and pressed lingering kisses from his forehead down to his collar. Not to mention the sex. For a week, he'd been in heaven with her sleeping over at his apartment, but both of them had things that needed to be taken care of.
Rachel had left with his gun and a body littered in hickies and bruises and he'd stayed down in Busan with new, useful information on how to get Yumin back. And, look where he was now. Stupid Rachel behind bars after her jealousy got the best of her and him with his ex-fiancé now locked and shackled in their old broom closet. Not what had been planned at all, but things were still progressing as he liked.
At the thought of his girlfriend, Yumin began banging her head against the door from the inside, trying desperately to get his attention. He shouted down at her to be quiet or else she'd suffer the consequences, but the banging never ceased. With a growl, Yura made his way back down the hall and slammed his fist near where he expected her head to rest.
"Quiet, before I drag you out here and shut you up myself!" he ordered. The brunet stood for a moment with a heaving chest as he listened to Yumin shift from inside. He could hear her pathetic whimpers through the door as the doorknob began to jiggle. Was she trying to twist it in her mouth?
"That's not the only thing your mouth is good for," Yura chuckled, stooping low and knocking lightly on the door. "Settle down in there."
"Yura!" Yumin cried out, her voice hoarse. "Please, just let me out!"
"Why should I?"
"I won't run," she panted. "I'm not gonna try and run away; I'm sorry."
"Man, you really do hate it in there." The brunet stood to his full height and carefully undid the latch he'd attached to the doorframe. He clicked the door open and pulled it out a few inches, peering into the dark to see Yumin's eyes batting up at him filled with tears. A gentle smile worked its way to his face as he realized how pathetic and weak she really was; he could easily put her back into place and have her kneeling before him like a good pet. Stooping back down to the floor, Yura extended his hand through the crack in the door and slowly stroked her head like a dog, cooing as she whimpered and flinched slightly from his reach.
"It's okay, baby," he whispered. "You wanna come out now?"
"P-Please?"
Pathetic mutt. "Promise you won't try and run, alright? I don't want to have to hurt you again."
Yura knew damn well that Yumin would eventually try something and he shifted just slightly on his feet to feel the gun stuffed into the waistband of the back of his pants. For now, he could play nice and try to coax the brunette into becoming pliant enough for him to manipulate at will.
Yumin shifted closer to the door and he jerked it a few inches closed. "I-I promise. Please, I'll behave Yura."
With a low hum, he pushed himself back to his feet and pulled the door open, blocking Yumin's exit with his foot as he reached behind her to grab at the cuffs around her wrists. He hauled her to her feet despite her quiet moans of pain, balancing her carefully with a hand resting beneath her chin. Yumin whimpered under her breath and leaned further into his touch until he was forced to remove his hand and let her lean completely onto his chest for support. Yura groaned under his breath as he felt her nuzzled close into the crook of his neck; it reminded him of all those past nights alone with her, torturing his little pet until all she could do was whimper and whine beneath him.
"M-My hands," she spluttered.
Glancing behind her, Yura saw the red blossoming around her wrists and quickly slipped around her backside to undo the cuffs. The key was placed snuggly in his front pocket and he urged it out easily and yanked the brunette's wrists from the dull cuffs. His stance shifted as he waited for her to bolt, but instead, Yumin broke down into quiet sobs and raised her forearms to hide her reddened face. Gently, she wiped away her tears and the dried blood that had trickled from her nose down her lips and chin. She turned around slowly and eyed Yura with a prey-like gaze, her breath hitched as he made a popping sound with his tongue.
"Look at you," he breathed. There were so many different emotions running through his head at that moment he didn't know what was appropriate to feel. He wanted to pull Yumin to his chest, stroke her head, and whisper to her that he would take care of her from now on. Tell her how much he truly loved her, even if it seemed obsessive. He wanted to lure the brunette back to their bedroom and pin her sore wrists to his headboard while he fucked her senseless as a way to show her that she belonged to him and him only. His partner, his love, his toy, his pet. Not theirs. But, Yura also wanted to scream and shout until his lungs dried out, throwing blows to the sides of her face until they were both bloodied and bruised. She was his and only his. How stupid of Yumin to think she could run from the only person who ever gave a fuck about her.
"It's alright, princess. You're safe here."
Yura could almost see her denial mouthed out by her plump lips, but she never voiced a word. Reaching out, the brunet hesitantly cupped her cheek and slid his thumb along her plump bottom lip. A shuddering breath finally slipped from Yumin's mouth and she turned and collapsed into his embrace. Yura inhaled her scent heavily; a mix of blood, sweat, tears and something oddly minty and refreshing wafted through his nose as he buried his face into her overly curly hair.
"I-I missed you."
He shook his head slightly, sure that he'd heard her wrong.
"I missed you so much."
Yumin's hold tightened around his waist and Yura released a hearty chuckle. "I know you have, princess. Thank God I took you away from those...those poor, useless, empty-hearted motherfuckers-" He pulled away and tilted her face up to his with the pad of his two fingers. "-before they did something awful to you. I'd never be able to live with myself if they got to you."
Yura offered the younger brunette a gentle smile and she whimpered up at him. Such a useless little pet. He patted her head as if she were a dog and the mechanical gesture seemed to calm her nerves a bit. He'd just about broken her and she was falling back into the palm of his hand all over again. Soon, it'd be as if those seven mangy freaks and that freckled slut of theirs never existed. Nothing could possibly get in his way so as long as Yumin thought him the good guy.
"C'mon," he whispered, pressing a lingering kiss to her lips. The brunette stumbled even closer with a slight hum as she strived to plant her mouth on his. Yura chortled softly as he granted her the feeling of his lips moving along hers, savoring the way she tasted as his tongue swiped along hers for the first in almost a year. He'd forgotten how addicting she was and had to pull away before he got lost in the feel of her.
Seated on the kitchen counter, Yumin rested weakly against the back wall as he wiped a damp towel along her tanned skin to rid her face of the dried blood and spit that clung to her nose and mouth. He regretted laying a hand on her, but what was done was done and there was no taking it back. Violence wouldn't have to have been the answer if she'd just complied and stayed in their room.
"Does it hurt anywhere?" he mumbled as he bent down to look over the rest of her face.
"No."
Yura lifted his hand a bit from the countertop and watched as Yumin flinched away from him. Years of his abuse and torment and she was still scared he'd hurt her. At least he knew there was still a way to keep her in check.
"I'm not gonna hurt you," the brunet lied. He lifted his arm further and gently brushed his hand down the side of her face, cupping her cheek tenderly in his hand. "Did you wanna go back to bed and rest?"
With a slight nod, Yura hummed in understanding and carefully hugged the smaller girl to his chest as he carried her back to their bedroom. He shut the door just slightly with his foot and placed her on the edge of the bed so that she could choose which step to take next. He sat down beside her for company, one hand stroking her inner thigh as she blinked sleepily in his direction. Her small, downturned eyes and the rosy hue of her cheeks made his stomach bubble happily at the thought of finally being able to call Yumin his again.
Tempted by the warm feeling in his abdomen, Yura leaned forward until he could catch her bottom lip between his and force his body partially on top of hers. Yumin whimpered at his sudden sure of dominance but reached out the grip the collar of his shirt as if they'd played that scene out numerous times before. His hands slipped around her wide waist and hauled her onto his lap, legs straddling his sides as he drug his lips away from hers and began casually marking her neck. Yumin's whines started up immediately and made him squirm beneath her. The sound of her practically begging under his touch compared to nothing. Not even Rachel.
Yura could tell when she forced herself too much to please him and it infuriated him beyond belief.
With a smirk, the brunet brought his mouth close to Yumin's ear and whispered softly, "You like that?" She nodded and he chuckled hotly at her lethargic, needy response. "You missed me, huh?"
Yumin didn't respond to his words and quickly pressed their mouths back together as she fisted the front of his t-shirt. Yura's nails dug into her hips as he forced her to grind atop his lap, cute little whimpers spilling into his mouth as his movements made it hard for her to breathe. As they continued kissing, he felt shivers race up his spine but mistook them for the pleasurable feeling that was swimming all throughout his skin. The brunette before him shifted her position steadily before something solid slammed down on his head.
"Fuck!"
Drawing his fingers over the back of his head, he withdrew them to find fresh blood trickling down the nape of his neck. His eyes snapped up to find Yumin dashing out the door on hot feet.
She had his gun in her hand.
Feeling slightly nauseous, Yura pushed himself to his feet and stumbled after the brunette. She was frantically undoing every lock on the front door. With the use of only one hand, she grew frustrated and cast the gun behind her to finally unlock the deadbolt and begin to tug the front door open. Her great escape; she'd tricked him into thinking she was wrapped around his finger just for her to try and slink out of his grasp yet again. The abusive brunet, now burning with rage, stooped low to grab for his gun, standing back to his full height and aiming it directly to the back of Yumin's head.
He took a single, shaky breath, his finger on the trigger, and shot.
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Getting into editing again!!😼 Sorry for so much angst. It's gonna be like that for a little while until Yumin can find her way back home. Or does she-😲