the inbetween.
rmjiheon:
[ ... ]
âso, hanbin hyung,â he begins, âwhat the fuck happened between you and kim jongin?â
this is how bridges are burnt.
hanbin thumbs his anger into the healing scabs that decorate his skin. it is all he can do, because the alternative is to stand up and pace and scream and yell. it is an uncommon sight for a man who typically boasts of great composure, what with having learnt to dampen his anger lest he misuses the strength he is gifted.
and yet, here is the explosive anger jongin summons, one makes its home within the cages of his ribs.
he takes a deep breath in. breathes out. he exercises every anger management tactic known to man.
one, two, threeâ
(all of this, holding it in. he does this for jiheon.)
he hears the annoying, incessant sip of vacuum against straw. hanbin grits his teeth.
âwhat the fuck happened between you and kim jongin?â
there, the question of the millennium. a dry laugh grates against his throat.
all he remembers is this. like heroin is to an addict, competition is hanbinâs most addictive drug. he remembers the euphoria that burned within his veins, remembers a disgustingly confident smirk sitting permanently on his lips. it was his first game as an alpha member, and aside from his need to prove himself to his demanding legacy, hanbin had wanted to win so badly. and so he played a little too rough, and jongin just happened to be there. still, despite his lust for victory, hanbin had tried so hard not to hurt his new friend.
jongin, unfortunately, didnât have the same consideration.
so hanbin falls, and blood seeps from the new rips of his skin, and he swears he feels his blood boiling.
he remembers looking at jongin thenâfor help, for an explanation, somethingâbut all he was met with was jonginâs typical dead eyes.
what the fuck happened? hanbin wishes he could conjure up an answer to jiheonâs question, because then, heâd at least be able to justify and thus, forgive jonginâs actions.
âyou make some real great fucking friends, donât you?â it comes out hoarse, unrefined, sarcastic. hanbin regrets it instantaneously.
âthatâs not what iââ
fingers pinch the bridge of his nose and he sighs.
âitâs not your fault,â he assures, and then heâs looking at jiheon with murderous eyes, âitâs that fucker. iâm gonna kill him.â
this is how bridges are burnt. not by the physical scars that jongin has left in his wake, but the single, searing rip that lines hanbinâs spine.
















