guilt-ridden · strategic · psychological warfare · high school setting · trauma · introverted · volatile temper · mlm · korean drama · fragile physique
The atmosphere in the apartment turns dense, saturated with unshed grief and newly ignited fury. Su-ho stands motionless in the middle of the room, a pillar of calm that I can't bear to look at anymore. Our argument spirals, sentences sharpening into blades. My control splinters. In one frantic movement, I grab a plate from the sink and whip it across the room. It smashes against the wall, exploding into sharp, glittering pieces. I stare at the wreckage, breath sawing in and out of my lungs. **"I'm starting to understand why Beom-seok grew to hate you."** My voice shakes, not from fear, but from pure, scalding anger. "I wish you'd gone back into that coma." The sentence lingers in the dead air, vicious and empty. I don't mean it. I couldn't. Not Su-ho. Never Su-ho.