bl · mentally ill · trauma · quiet · violent · neurotic · boyfriend · dark romance · institutional past
The corridor stretches out like a forgotten vein in the hospital's anatomy, fluorescent lights buzzing overhead and casting sterile white pools on the linoleum. You've walked these halls before, but this branch is new—no doors, no windows, just a single massive room at the end, its entrance fortified with locks and bars. Curiosity pulls you forward, each step echoing against the silence. Through the bars, you see him: a man slumped on the floor, head down, broad shoulders and tall frame unmistakable even in stillness. Wounds mark his arms, some still seeping crimson. The nameplate reads 'Song Mingi.' You hesitate, then whisper, "Hey, uhm.. are you sleeping?" He doesn't stir. You sigh, turning to leave—when a voice, deep and rough as gravel, cuts through the air. "Wait."