Park Jong Gun x (F)Reader || âFragments of a broken dreamâ
Note: This story is situated after the hunt for Gun arc and During Gunâs time in prison and his backstory.
Tags: Angsty(I do not intend to make this an easy read or a happy ending), use of foul language.
Park Jong Gun rarely had visitors during his time at the prison. But there was this one girl whoâd visited him before too, and she was the only person to visit him again now.
Gun is brought to the visitation room, as usual, dressed in the awfully typical blue robe as every other prisoner yet surprisingly pulling off such a bright colour. He seemed less and less concerned about the woman on the other side of the glass paned window, with the only opening being enough for a hand to barely slip by.
She asked, no greeting, no âhi, hello, whats up?â, her eyes seemed to pierce through him, but he remained unreadable as always. A habit heâd picked up all too well, as the lawful heir of the Yamazaki Syndicate.
No words left his mouth, not even a hint of a thought or a sentence forming in his mind to relay to the women in front who seemed ever so distraught. He merely opened his mouth to yawn and continue sliding back into the chair he was seated in.
âBecause I wanted to.â This answer from his mouth seemed to not please her, as it only spurred her brows to frown even more, her face only conveyed how much of a mess of emotions her head was becoming by each agonising seconds.
âDont fucking waste my time, Gun.. why did you do it? Whom for huh?! Fucking Charles Choi?!â
She slammed her hands on the table, standing up, the sound vibrated through the glass panes enough to make the nearby passerbyâs stop in their path but not enough to have them huddling over to see what the matter was. It was a usual occurrence for them. Anger, was usual for them.
âWhats this Charles fucking Choi done to you?!â
Her questions led to no answers, not even an expression or a nod of acknowledgement, she knew it had all fallen on deaf ears. Then it seemed pointless to continue asking him questions he wouldnât want to answer.
âWhy are you here again?â He asked simply, leaving no time for distractions and addition of any other useless topics to the ongoing discussion. Gun propped up a cigarette, lighting the butt up and inhaling a long drag, letting the nicotine fuse with the mess going on in his brain.
âAfter you are released, lets run away.â
Gun was not surprised sheâd say that, well to be fair the only person he had given importance in his life other than being Charles Choiâs subordinate was her. Sheâd seen him through his every phase, and as much as heâd hate to admit that their relationship was anything more than that of friends with benefits, the dynamics had changed several years ago.
A single tear dropping from her eyes, caught his attention, bringing him back to the reality. To the cruel reality of it all. Being back in the place where he fought to stand at the top. And seeing someone important to him show vulnerability.
âYou know I hate when you cry, y/n. Dont do that to me.â He said taking a drag of the cigarette and looking up at her after refusing to face her for nearly 10 minutes. His eyes were cold and unyielding as ever, not a hint of any expression could get through him.
âY-you did this to me! Bastard.. and here I thought I had a future with youâŚ, I.. I thought we could be so much more together.. you made me believe so, atleast..â
Gun knew all too well, this was a sinking ship from the beginning. And yet he played on the thin line between remaining as mutual beneficiaries of this brief relationship, and becoming something more. Knowing all too damn well, this always had a dead end. That all roads and all pathways would eventually lead to this outcome.
Gun himself was never sure why he did that, maybe it was because of the biological changes during adolescence that got to him, or he had lost his sanity and gotten weaker at heart.
For someone who hadnât even experienced sorrow, grief, or happiness, ever. For someone who didnât know what it meant to have a family. This was so fucking weird.
âIm not exactly sorry but, I feel pity for you. You got swayed by my actions for you, or my words. You knew youâd be digging up your own grave getting involved with me didnât you?â
He looked at her, a long lasting gaze, studying her expressions carefullyâ sadness, anger, helplessness, anxiety. He could see it all on her because unlike him, her face was like a canvas being painted by her head.
âB-but it felt so real, for a momentâ I was happy being beside you, we never.., we never even got to explore what our relationship truly was, and now its.. all done for.â
Her head was lowered between her legs, her hands wrapped around her torso as if she was shielding herself, the sound of her soft sobs faintly reached through the glass pane. Gunâs hand twitched to hold her, even just her hands, but he could not get himself to do it.
âYou and I were, never quite destined to be. Life is all about consequences. And I am not a man of attachment, I have never attached myself to anyone, and will probably never do so ever.â
Hearing his words seemed to break her heart even more, her eyes had become swollen and red, her lips quivered and she had not any strength left to talk. The man before her had decided this was how it was going to end, and so she had to stand there and watch as her heart was being ripped apart.
âI wish I never met you..â
One last whisper, before her silhouette disappeared into the hallway and outside the facility. Gun stood inside for a moment, turning his back on someone heâd known for so long, had shared memories with, seemed to weigh harder than ever on his mind. But there was no going back. No returning from this. Ever.
