Chapter 17 - A Heart That Knows No Rest

The bruises on Hyunjin's heart had yet to heal, but life, cruel and relentless, gave him no time to tend to them.

No matter how much he ached, no matter how much his soul begged for respite, the world did not stop turning. He had lectures to attend, assignments to complete, and a home that was no home at all to return to.

Hyunjin's alarm blared through the dimly lit bedroom, pulling him from the fragile grasp of sleep. He groaned, rolling over to shut it off, eyes still heavy with exhaustion. He had barely slept, haunted by the weight of the previous night's confrontation with Minho.

After dragging himself out of bed, he shuffled toward the bathroom. The mirror was unkind to him that morning. His complexion was paler than usual, his lips dry, and the faint redness from Minho's slap still lingered like a cruel reminder.

He sighed.

No amount of cold water could wash away the evidence of his reality, but he splashed it over his face anyway.

By the time he stepped out of his room, the house was eerily silent. Minho must have already left for class. Good.

Hyunjin wasn't sure if he had it in him to endure another encounter so soon.

His stomach grumbled as he made his way to the kitchen, but the sight that greeted him made him pause.

The sink was overflowing with dirty dishes, unwashed plates stacked carelessly on the counter. The remnants of last night's dinner—leftovers he hadn't touched—sat on the stove, left uncovered and now spoiled.

And the trash.

The trash was full, the bag torn open, causing the stench to spread through the kitchen.

Hyunjin's head throbbed.

This wasn't just mess. This was deliberate.

Minho hadn't lifted a finger. Not to clean, not to throw anything away. It was as if he was testing Hyunjin, waiting to see how much he would tolerate before finally snapping.

Hyunjin exhaled sharply and rolled up his sleeves.

With quiet determination, he grabbed a fresh garbage bag and began cleaning.

He scrubbed the plates until his fingers felt raw, wiped down the countertops until they gleamed, and took out the trash himself.

He would never give Minho the satisfaction of seeing him break.

Even if it hurt.

--

Hyunjin barely made it to class on time. The morning rush had drained him, and now he was struggling to stay focused.

The professor's voice droned on in the background, but Hyunjin's mind was elsewhere.

The lack of sleep was catching up to him, his limbs felt heavy, and his thoughts were sluggish.

Then it happened.

The words on his page blurred, the room around him spun, and before he could register what was happening, his vision darkened.

The next thing he knew, there were voices—distant, frantic. Hands gripping his arms, shaking him gently.

"Hyunjin? Hyunjin!"

His lashes fluttered open, and the bright light above him burned his retinas. He groaned, trying to sit up, but someone pressed a firm hand to his shoulder.

"Take it easy, you passed out."

That voice...

Hyunjin blinked blearily and found Chan staring down at him, concern etched deep into his face.

Hyunjin swallowed. His throat was dry. "What... happened?"

"You tell me," Chan said, voice laced with worry. "One second you were fine, the next you were on the floor."

A crowd had gathered, whispers filling the lecture hall.

Hyunjin clenched his jaw. This was embarrassing.

He forced himself to sit up despite the dizziness. "I'm fine," he said, though the shake in his voice betrayed him.

"Like hell you are," Chan scoffed. "You look like a damn ghost."

"I just... didn't eat."

Chan stared at him, unimpressed. "And why didn't you eat?"

Hyunjin looked away. "I forgot."

Chan's expression darkened.

Before Hyunjin could protest, Chan hauled him up and slung an arm over his shoulder. "You're coming with me."

"I have class—"

"Screw class," Chan snapped. "You're not dying on my watch."

Hyunjin didn't have the energy to argue.

--

Chan took him to the nearest café, forcing him into a seat before ordering food for him.

Minutes later, a steaming bowl of porridge was placed in front of him.

"Eat," Chan ordered.

Hyunjin hesitated.

"Now."

With a sigh, Hyunjin picked up the spoon and took a slow bite. The warmth spread through his body, filling the empty ache in his stomach. He hadn't realized how hungry he actually was.

Chan watched him closely, arms crossed. "Are you going to tell me what's going on?"

Hyunjin stiffened. "What do you mean?"

Chan's jaw clenched. "Hyunjin, I'm not stupid. You're exhausted, you're starving, and you flinched when I touched your face. Don't you dare tell me everything is fine."

Hyunjin's grip on the spoon tightened.

Chan sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Look, I'm not asking you to tell me everything. But at least tell me if you're safe."

Safe.

Hyunjin thought about the cold silence of his home. About Minho's words, his anger, his touch.

Was he safe?

"Yeah," he said softly. "I'm safe."

Chan didn't look convinced.

But he didn't push.

Instead, he reached across the table and squeezed Hyunjin's wrist gently.

"You don't have to go through this alone, you know?"

Hyunjin's throat tightened.

He had spent so long trying to bear the weight of everything on his own. But right now, in this moment, with Chan's unwavering presence beside him...

He didn't feel so alone.

--

By the time Hyunjin returned home, night had already fallen.

He pushed open the door and was immediately met with darkness.

Minho was home. He knew because he could hear the faint sound of music coming from his room.

Hyunjin sighed, stepping inside.

But before he could close the door, he felt something cold and sharp press against his foot.

He looked down.

A shattered glass lay at the entrance, shards scattered across the floor. The realization hit him like a punch to the gut.

Minho had done this on purpose.

Another test. Another attempt to make Hyunjin feel unwelcome in his own home.

Slowly, Hyunjin bent down, picking up the largest piece.

He tightened his grip, the edge biting into his palm.

He had been patient. He had been kind. He had endured.

But how much longer?

Hyunjin swallowed thickly, his vision blurring.

How much longer until he broke?