BORDERLINE
Title: Borderline
Author: qrn
Character: Hyunseung
Rating: M (Mature), for sexual & violent themes
Summary: He becomes an entirely new person at night.
Author's Notes: I'm back with another angst, & I still haven't watched comedy in a few weeks. Since I'm still experimenting with my narrating style, I decided to do first person's POV. Although this story is fairly short, I hope you guys enjoy this as much as I did writing it =) Feedbacks & comments are welcome, as always ^^
The blood won't stop.
I grit my teeth, holding in the pain as the cold water touched my skin.
I glance down at my body. I cringe. The wounds are still there. Even the bruises on my arms from last week--and--the week before--still hasn't healed. I turn the shower faucet anti-clockwise to reduce the water flow. I try not to cry as the cuts on my fingers and knees was beginning to open again. I shiver as I try to forget what happened a few hours ago. I open the bathroom cupboard and take a roll of bandage to stop the bleeding.
It hurts.
I hold my breath in fear as I hear him enter the bathroom without knocking. I turn away my back away from the door--nevertheless, he pulls the shower curtains to one side and stands still. I can feel his gaze piercing through my bones.
"Does it still hurt?" he asks with a hint of guilt and remorse in his voice.
I shake my head, although knowing he's noticed the blood that is scattered on the floor. For the hundredth time, he wraps his arms around me in one swift motion.
"I'm sorry." He is crying. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry." He repeats the familiar words over and over again, tightening his hug with each time.
I shut my eyes. I feel ashamed--not because I'm naked, but because I don't want him to see me in this state, wounds all over.
It hurts so much.
---
In the morning, he greets me with an innocent kiss.
"Hey," he smiles. "I have something for you." I watch him take something from one of the drawers and quickly hides it behind his back, not wanting me to know what it is. "Close your eyes. And no peeking."
I do as I was told.
"Give me your hand."
I hold them out, still keeping my eyes closed. I can feel him putting something in my hands, but I don't know what it is.
"Now open your eyes."
I see a box of chocolates, decorated with ribbons and little cut-out hearts. On the top is a stem of red rose.
"Happy Valentine's Day," he says, flashing a grin. "It's our two-year anniversary as of today."
It's so touching that I start breaking into tears.
"I love you," he comforts, hugging me so close that I can smell his cologne.
It feels good.
I lean my head against his bare chest. "I love you too, Yong Junhyung."
---
"Do you want to go out with me?"
I looked at him, thinking he must be joking. But those eyes were sincere, and his face seemed very serious.
"I..." I didn't expect him to ask me that. "I don't know what to say."
"Just say yes," he said impatiently. "It's not that hard."
I gulped. The truth was that I liked him. In fact I had liked him for a long time, but I wasn't prepared for that question. And yet, something in the back of my mind was telling me to accept him.
"Well?"
I took a deep breath.
"Okay."
And he smiled.
It was the most beautiful smile I've ever seen.
"Hyunseung-ah, are you listening?"
I blink my eyes, snapping back to reality. Jiyong looks at me with a mixed of expression of annoyance and concern.
"I called you three times already!" he says, throwing his hands in exasperation. "You were off in your own world again. Oh, why did I even bother starting a conversation?" he lets out a sigh before hitting his head on the table, hopeless.
I feel guilty. It's true that I wasn't paying attention to what he was saying. I shoot him an uneasy smile. "No, I was just..."
Jiyong shakes his head, refusing to hear what I have to day. "You seriously haven't changed. You really need to quit that habit of yours!"
"Sorry," I mumble.
He takes a sip of his ice chocolate. "By the way, it's Valentine's Day today."
I glance around the packed cafe which is mostly filled by couples, sharing meals and kisses. There are a large number of pink and red balloons and decorations hanging from the wall. Even the tables are covered by pink checked fabrics. "It's kind of hard not to notice."
"Did he give you anything special?" he asks me, raising his eyebrows expectantly.
I nod. "He gave me chocolates. And a flower."
He gives me a wide, toothy smile. "That's cute!" he says. "It's been about, what, ten months? You know, since you moved into his apartment."
"15," I correct him.
He seems surprised. "Has it really been that long? I must've spent way too much time in France." He takes another sip of his drink before adding, "Well, I just want to say that I'm glad to hear that you guys are happy together."
You wouldn't have said that if you knew the truth.
I drink my tea quietly. A part of me feels bad for not telling him about everything, but somehow I'm relieved that I didn't. Even though Jiyong has been a good friend of mine for many years, I'm not ready to let him know about Junhyung. I knew that he'll be furious if he finds out.
"By the way," Jiyong speaks up, looking at me oddly, "It's warm, so why are you wearing long sleeves?" He frowns. "And long pants too."
I nearly choke on my drink.
He musn't know.
"And what's with the fringe?" He sounds even more suspicious. "It's unattractive." Suddenly he leans over and sweeps back my hair.
Oh no.
He stares at the large, dark bruise on my forehead. "What is this?" he asks, looking alarmed. Before I can answer, he grabs my right arm. I wince in pain as he rolls up my sleeves. I watch the color drain from his face.
"Hyunseung-ah," he said gravely. "What is happening?" His jaw drops in shock as he sees the numerous scars and wounds on my arms. "I bet there are also some on your legs," he mutters in shock.
I can't say anything.
His eyes widen. "It's him, isn't it?" he asks angrily as he grabs me by the shoulders. "Tell me, how long has this been going on?"
I shake my head in panic. "It's not what you think--"
He won't let me finish my words. "How could you let this happen?" he asks, raising his voice.
It's not easy to admit that I'm a victim of domestic violence.
I bite my lip, looking away to avoid his eyes.
I can't possibly tell him that Junhyung has a double personality disorder; he acts nice in daytime but becomes increasingly violent when the night comes. I can't tell him that after he hits me he'll beg to say sorry, but unconsciously does it again the next night. I can't tell him about the countless number of hospital visits I had to make over the past two years due to the constant physical abuse.
It's happening everyday--and no one else knows about it.
---
The bright sun entered through the small gaps of the window.
I put on a shirt to hide a new set of wounds on my back.
I turned over to see Junhyung lying next to me, fast asleep. I stroked his cheek affectionately as I gazed on his peaceful face. I ran my fingers through the soft auburn hair. I kissed his forehead, hoping to wake him up.
Sure enough, he opened his eyes. "Oh," he said when he saw me. He rubbed his eyes lazily. "Good morning."
"Did you have a good dream?" I asked.
"Of course," he said, smiling. He touched my lips with his finger softly. "I was dreaming about you."
I hit him on the arm playfully. "I'd really like to believe that."
He laughed. "It was a beautiful dream," he said as he embraced me tightly.
"What was it about?" I stared into his eyes.
He nuzzled my neck passionately. "Would you like me to tell you?"
We never made love at nighttime.
---
He is home late again.
I open the delicate, porcelain music box with one hand. A slow, melodic tune to the first few bars of Chopin's 'Tristesse' began to fill the room. It was a Christmas present from him; while I listen to the music, I start to ponder about our relationship.
I envy ordinary couples.
I envy those couples who are excited to get under the mistletoe on Christmas Eve.
I envy those couples who get together and cheer along to the New Year's countdown.
I envy those couples who spend their normal days together, and drown themselves in sweet love before they go to sleep.
I shake my head as I try to make this bitter feeling of jealousy go away.
We're not like any other couple.
We never kissed under the mistletoe.
We never stay awake until morning for the New Year's countdown.
We never even had a normal dinner together, and we fight before we go to bed.
As I realize these things, I hear the front door being unlocked. When I hear him yell my name, I quickly close the music box and return it into the cupboard. I turn around and find him standing in the doorway, with an expression that is the exact opposite of the angelic face he gives in the mornings. I stand up.
I don't care if I get abused this much.
I don't care even if I collapse again tonight.
All I know is that I love him--and nothing else matters.
One day, all the pain will go away.
Closing my eyes, I brace myself as he raises his hand for another hit.
Author: qrn
Character: Hyunseung
Rating: M (Mature), for sexual & violent themes
Summary: He becomes an entirely new person at night.
Author's Notes: I'm back with another angst, & I still haven't watched comedy in a few weeks. Since I'm still experimenting with my narrating style, I decided to do first person's POV. Although this story is fairly short, I hope you guys enjoy this as much as I did writing it =) Feedbacks & comments are welcome, as always ^^
The blood won't stop.
I grit my teeth, holding in the pain as the cold water touched my skin.
I glance down at my body. I cringe. The wounds are still there. Even the bruises on my arms from last week--and--the week before--still hasn't healed. I turn the shower faucet anti-clockwise to reduce the water flow. I try not to cry as the cuts on my fingers and knees was beginning to open again. I shiver as I try to forget what happened a few hours ago. I open the bathroom cupboard and take a roll of bandage to stop the bleeding.
It hurts.
I hold my breath in fear as I hear him enter the bathroom without knocking. I turn away my back away from the door--nevertheless, he pulls the shower curtains to one side and stands still. I can feel his gaze piercing through my bones.
"Does it still hurt?" he asks with a hint of guilt and remorse in his voice.
I shake my head, although knowing he's noticed the blood that is scattered on the floor. For the hundredth time, he wraps his arms around me in one swift motion.
"I'm sorry." He is crying. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry." He repeats the familiar words over and over again, tightening his hug with each time.
I shut my eyes. I feel ashamed--not because I'm naked, but because I don't want him to see me in this state, wounds all over.
It hurts so much.
---
In the morning, he greets me with an innocent kiss.
"Hey," he smiles. "I have something for you." I watch him take something from one of the drawers and quickly hides it behind his back, not wanting me to know what it is. "Close your eyes. And no peeking."
I do as I was told.
"Give me your hand."
I hold them out, still keeping my eyes closed. I can feel him putting something in my hands, but I don't know what it is.
"Now open your eyes."
I see a box of chocolates, decorated with ribbons and little cut-out hearts. On the top is a stem of red rose.
"Happy Valentine's Day," he says, flashing a grin. "It's our two-year anniversary as of today."
It's so touching that I start breaking into tears.
"I love you," he comforts, hugging me so close that I can smell his cologne.
It feels good.
I lean my head against his bare chest. "I love you too, Yong Junhyung."
---
"Do you want to go out with me?"
I looked at him, thinking he must be joking. But those eyes were sincere, and his face seemed very serious.
"I..." I didn't expect him to ask me that. "I don't know what to say."
"Just say yes," he said impatiently. "It's not that hard."
I gulped. The truth was that I liked him. In fact I had liked him for a long time, but I wasn't prepared for that question. And yet, something in the back of my mind was telling me to accept him.
"Well?"
I took a deep breath.
"Okay."
And he smiled.
It was the most beautiful smile I've ever seen.
"Hyunseung-ah, are you listening?"
I blink my eyes, snapping back to reality. Jiyong looks at me with a mixed of expression of annoyance and concern.
"I called you three times already!" he says, throwing his hands in exasperation. "You were off in your own world again. Oh, why did I even bother starting a conversation?" he lets out a sigh before hitting his head on the table, hopeless.
I feel guilty. It's true that I wasn't paying attention to what he was saying. I shoot him an uneasy smile. "No, I was just..."
Jiyong shakes his head, refusing to hear what I have to day. "You seriously haven't changed. You really need to quit that habit of yours!"
"Sorry," I mumble.
He takes a sip of his ice chocolate. "By the way, it's Valentine's Day today."
I glance around the packed cafe which is mostly filled by couples, sharing meals and kisses. There are a large number of pink and red balloons and decorations hanging from the wall. Even the tables are covered by pink checked fabrics. "It's kind of hard not to notice."
"Did he give you anything special?" he asks me, raising his eyebrows expectantly.
I nod. "He gave me chocolates. And a flower."
He gives me a wide, toothy smile. "That's cute!" he says. "It's been about, what, ten months? You know, since you moved into his apartment."
"15," I correct him.
He seems surprised. "Has it really been that long? I must've spent way too much time in France." He takes another sip of his drink before adding, "Well, I just want to say that I'm glad to hear that you guys are happy together."
You wouldn't have said that if you knew the truth.
I drink my tea quietly. A part of me feels bad for not telling him about everything, but somehow I'm relieved that I didn't. Even though Jiyong has been a good friend of mine for many years, I'm not ready to let him know about Junhyung. I knew that he'll be furious if he finds out.
"By the way," Jiyong speaks up, looking at me oddly, "It's warm, so why are you wearing long sleeves?" He frowns. "And long pants too."
I nearly choke on my drink.
He musn't know.
"And what's with the fringe?" He sounds even more suspicious. "It's unattractive." Suddenly he leans over and sweeps back my hair.
Oh no.
He stares at the large, dark bruise on my forehead. "What is this?" he asks, looking alarmed. Before I can answer, he grabs my right arm. I wince in pain as he rolls up my sleeves. I watch the color drain from his face.
"Hyunseung-ah," he said gravely. "What is happening?" His jaw drops in shock as he sees the numerous scars and wounds on my arms. "I bet there are also some on your legs," he mutters in shock.
I can't say anything.
His eyes widen. "It's him, isn't it?" he asks angrily as he grabs me by the shoulders. "Tell me, how long has this been going on?"
I shake my head in panic. "It's not what you think--"
He won't let me finish my words. "How could you let this happen?" he asks, raising his voice.
It's not easy to admit that I'm a victim of domestic violence.
I bite my lip, looking away to avoid his eyes.
I can't possibly tell him that Junhyung has a double personality disorder; he acts nice in daytime but becomes increasingly violent when the night comes. I can't tell him that after he hits me he'll beg to say sorry, but unconsciously does it again the next night. I can't tell him about the countless number of hospital visits I had to make over the past two years due to the constant physical abuse.
It's happening everyday--and no one else knows about it.
---
The bright sun entered through the small gaps of the window.
I put on a shirt to hide a new set of wounds on my back.
I turned over to see Junhyung lying next to me, fast asleep. I stroked his cheek affectionately as I gazed on his peaceful face. I ran my fingers through the soft auburn hair. I kissed his forehead, hoping to wake him up.
Sure enough, he opened his eyes. "Oh," he said when he saw me. He rubbed his eyes lazily. "Good morning."
"Did you have a good dream?" I asked.
"Of course," he said, smiling. He touched my lips with his finger softly. "I was dreaming about you."
I hit him on the arm playfully. "I'd really like to believe that."
He laughed. "It was a beautiful dream," he said as he embraced me tightly.
"What was it about?" I stared into his eyes.
He nuzzled my neck passionately. "Would you like me to tell you?"
We never made love at nighttime.
---
He is home late again.
I open the delicate, porcelain music box with one hand. A slow, melodic tune to the first few bars of Chopin's 'Tristesse' began to fill the room. It was a Christmas present from him; while I listen to the music, I start to ponder about our relationship.
I envy ordinary couples.
I envy those couples who are excited to get under the mistletoe on Christmas Eve.
I envy those couples who get together and cheer along to the New Year's countdown.
I envy those couples who spend their normal days together, and drown themselves in sweet love before they go to sleep.
I shake my head as I try to make this bitter feeling of jealousy go away.
We're not like any other couple.
We never kissed under the mistletoe.
We never stay awake until morning for the New Year's countdown.
We never even had a normal dinner together, and we fight before we go to bed.
As I realize these things, I hear the front door being unlocked. When I hear him yell my name, I quickly close the music box and return it into the cupboard. I turn around and find him standing in the doorway, with an expression that is the exact opposite of the angelic face he gives in the mornings. I stand up.
I don't care if I get abused this much.
I don't care even if I collapse again tonight.
All I know is that I love him--and nothing else matters.
One day, all the pain will go away.
Closing my eyes, I brace myself as he raises his hand for another hit.