"𝙄 𝙝𝙖𝙩𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙩𝙤 𝙙𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙝"
"𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐈 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝"
Kim Seokjin, the youngest supreme court justice in South Korea. He was the man who had everything anyone would ever want, money...
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Authors POV
Jin's eyes snapped open as he abruptly sat up on his bed, panting heavily. Glistening beads of sweat rolled down his face, neck, and even chest. His throat aching and strained, suggesting to him that maybe he was screaming while he was 'asleep'. His eyes felt damp and puffy, he had...cried.
When Jin came to the realisation gradually, he almost immediately started frantically running his hands over his face, especially his eyes. He looked down at his shaky hands and saw the clear yet salty liquid which wasn't just sweat.
It wouldn't be such a great deal for a person. A normal person. Yet we all know, we aren't dealing with a 'normal' being.
The human ripped his sheets away from his icky body before sprinting towards his vanity to check his face in the mirror. He prayed that it was just sweat and not tears. He probably was just being over dramatic. He would never cry. He could never cry. His brain was simply just playing tricks on him...right?
The being stood in front of the mirror, head low, unknowingly not daring to even spare a glance at the mirror. He muttered a curse under his breath as his entire body abruptly started itching. He was beyond unaware why he was so scared to look up and to add on top of it everything was becoming unbearable.
His old scars which were hidden yet never forgotten, were hurting, tinging, irritated. It was a sudden and unexpected thing to happen out of nowhere with no specific reason. The urge to just rip out his skin was growing stronger and stronger inside the male.
He was panting unhealthily, sweating even more than before, and he could feel his eyes stinging and dampening even more. Panic raised higher if possible, overwhelmed, distressed, he snapped his head upwards to stare right into his soul. And just at that moment, he could sense his soul giving up on his body.
He was...he was crying.
Hyperventilating, that's what he started doing next. Shaking tremendously, he couldn't accept the fact that his own very eyes were read and weakened, dripping with a liquid that represented weakness.
20 years ago he swore to himself during that rainy night when he was bleeding to death, he would never return to that death hole where he would shed those ugly tears. He swore that he would never succumb to weakness whether that meant forgetting how to feel emotions like a human being, in general.
20 years ago he let himself believe that he wasn't a human. Like the others always said...he was a demon. So a demon he trained himself to become, a way to get vengeance against cruelty.
Yet here he was, feeling human emotions.
Why?
How?
20 years.
He wasn't a child anymore. He wasn't the young boy that got beaten to near death, raped into trauma, starved to bones, and abused without pause. He didn't have a reason to cry anymore.
