︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Take a chance, baby, let's take a chance
Yeah, I know he did you wrong but we're not all bad
Don't hold back, baby, don't hold back
And I promise you can fall in love again

I know you I can give you everything you asked for, woah
But I get the feeling you think I'm gassed up, woah
That's because everybody else lets you down
But I'm not everyone else

-Fall in love again-P1H-

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

⚠️- (minor) mentions of sh

Hana POV:

To say I slept well would be an understatement. My body was utterly drained, but my mind? It was tangled, restless—still reeling from everything that happened the night before. Even in my sleep, those moments lingered, replaying over and over in my dreams.

I remember asking Minho to stay. When I woke up, I was still in his arms. Still held close. It was the first thing I saw—his face just inches from mine, the soft light of morning casting a gentle glow over his features. His eyes were still closed, his breathing slow and steady, unaware I was watching him. It felt like a dream. Like one of those rare, fleeting moments you think you'll never get to experience. It felt perfect, right.

But as much as I wanted to soak it all in, there was a gnawing feeling deep inside me that I didn't deserve this.

I slowly pulled myself from his embrace, careful not to disturb his peaceful sleep. His warmth lingered on my skin for a moment before it faded. I glanced back at him—his face relaxed, still soft in slumber, his hair messy and falling across his forehead.

He held me while I cried. He'd whispered promises that I wasn't sure I deserved. He kissed my tears when I felt so unwanted, unloved. In this moment, he looked so gentle, so serene. But I couldn't shake the thought: How long could I keep him close before my brokenness shattered everything we had?

I stood and started tidying up, collecting the things I had tossed around last night—the dress, the beautiful dress, now a reminder of everything that happened the day I wore it. I added it to the pile of clothes I would wash separately. I fixed the table, carefully placing the earrings and necklaces back where they belonged.

Tears had started to gather at the corners of my eyes again, but I wiped them away, not sure when they even started. I made my way to the bathroom to wash up, hoping the cold water would clear my head.

As I stood before the sink, my gaze drifted toward the mirror. I tried not to look, avoiding my reflection out of habit—because I already knew what it would show. My pale, blotchy face from the tears, the bruise on my cheek, were the last things I wanted to see.

But something, some quiet, reluctant curiosity, tugged at me, and I found myself glancing at my reflection. The bruises on my cheek were darker now, almost purple. A lump formed in my throat, I hated what I saw—hated how broken, how exhausted I looked.

I quickly turned away and splashed cold water on my face, trying to scrub away the evidence of my pain, though I knew it wouldn't work.

I left the bathroom as quickly as I could, not wanting to linger any longer in the mirror's unforgiving reflection. I didn't want to lose myself again in that painful image. I left Minho in my room to sleep a little longer, not wanting to disturb him.

As I stood near the coffee brewer, trying to distract myself, I heard the voices of those who had tried to lift me up ringing in my ears.

"Hana, you are so much more than their validation. You don't need anyone to tell you that you're worthy. You are worthy because you exist, because you have value, not because of what others think of you," Dr. Nam's words echoed.

"And you're so worth it. Never think that you're alone, because you aren't. I care so much about you, it drives me crazy to see you like this," Minho's voice from last night followed.

But I was torn. A part of me, deep down, longed to give. But another, bigger part of me, the one that had been silent for so long, was finally starting to rise. A part of me that finally wanted to live.

 "Why do tragedies keep happening to people whose lives are already pathetic?" 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

3rd Person POV:

Minho woke to the sound of clattering in the kitchen, the noise pulling him from the remnants of his sleep. It only took a moment for him to realize that the space next to him, which had once been warm and comforting, was now empty.

He hadn't really slept well, his mind too restless, too worried. Every so often, he'd wake up, checking to see if Hana was still asleep, making sure she was okay.

He quickly washed up in his bathroom, eager to see her.

He approached slowly, his footsteps slow, trying not to startle her. There she was in the kitchen, she was okay. A rush of emotions collided within him, part of him that cared deeply for her, just wanted to pull her into his arms and never let go.

"Hana."
The name escaped his lips in a whisper, laced with a quiet desperation. His voice cracked slightly, probably since he just woke up as he stepped closer, his eyes never leaving her.
"You should've stayed in bed a little longer."

"I just needed some time alone to think," she replied, a faint, almost wistful smile tugging at her lips.

"Think about what?" Minho's voice was gentle, almost tender, as he studied her, concern flickering in his eyes.

"About everything that happened yesterday," she said, offering him a cup of coffee before walking toward the couch, motioning for him to join her.

"Did you sleep okay?" he asked, settling beside her, his tone quiet and caring.

"I did," she replied, her voice flat. Then, with a slight hesitation, she added, "How did you know I... needed someone?"

Jeongin called me," he explained, his voice softening. "He said something happened and that you might want some company."

Hana shook her head, a quiet chuckle escaping her lips, though it was laced with a hint of exhaustion. Soon, though, she fell into a deep silence, her thoughts clearly elsewhere. Her face remained still, but Minho could tell that her mind was miles away, lost in reflection.

"Are you... feeling better than last night?" Minho asked gently, his concern still evident in his eyes.

"I'll be fine, Minho," Hana replied, her voice steady but distant. "I've been through it before. I always survive."

Minho set his empty cup aside, watching her closely. "What are you thinking about?" His voice was soft, almost hesitant, as he tried to read the quiet sorrow that lingered in her eyes.

Her voice trembled when she finally spoke, each word weighted with the heaviness of her thoughts. "I've been thinking about how... even after all the effort, trying so hard to stay alive, to stay happy, to find a reason to keep going, none of it feels like it's working. And even death—it scares me. More than falling in love, more than liking someone, and you know how terrified I am of that. I don't understand it."

Minho's heart tightened at her words. He muttered under his breath, his voice low and heavy with frustration, "I wish I knew what to say to make this better."

Without thinking, he scooted closer, wrapping his arms around her in a gesture of comfort, hoping his presence would offer some small sense of peace. He held her tightly, trying to steady her.

"But I don't know where this is all coming from," he added softly, pulling back just enough to look at her. "Maybe a little context?"

"My parents are supposed to love me," Hana said, her voice barely a whisper, barely a breath. "But they never did. My therapist thinks I need someone to help me feel loved, reassured, supported—only then can I get better. But how could I let someone in? How could I ruin their life like that? I'm sorry, but... sometimes it just feels so much easier to... just not be here."

Minho's heart clenched painfully at her words, a surge of helplessness flooding through him. But he kept his voice steady, trying to offer her something, anything to hold onto.

"Help me understand," he said quietly, his voice soft but firm, a steady anchor amidst the storm. "Why does death feel easier than falling in love, yet you're afraid of both?"

Hana didn't meet his eyes. Her gaze dropped to the floor, her hands clenched tightly in her lap as her words came out broken, barely audible.

"Either I hurt the person who loves me, or the person who's supposed to love me hurts me, even when I try my hardest. How can I believe anything else would turn out different?"

 His mind raced, searching for the right words, but he knew the truth. No words could erase the years of hurt she had endured.

"Not everyone is as bad as you think," Minho said softly, his voice steady and strong, like a hand reaching through the fog of self-doubt that clouded her mind.
 "And you're not as bad as you think."

The words were simple, but they carried the weight of everything he wished he could tell her. That there was hope. That she was worth fighting for.

Hana shook her head slightly, her voice trembling as she continued.
"Death will hurt those around me. It's selfish, but at least I won't be in pain anymore. But not being here, knowing how much it would hurt the people I care about... that's scary too."

Minho's heart tightened, but he held his ground.
"But they're different, Hana. Very, very different situations," he said gently, his tone steady, though his heart weighed heavy with the depth of her struggle.

"Enlighten me," she replied, her voice distant, void of emotion, as if the words no longer held any meaning to her.

Minho exhaled slowly, gathering his thoughts, trying to find the right way to break through the fog surrounding her.
"Death and love... they're obviously not the same," he said softly. 

"Love is scary because it's uncertain, because it can hurt you. But when it does, it's not the end. With love, you find someone else, who—when you least expect it—will be almost perfect for you. In a way that's humanly possible, anyway. Which kind of fits in your situation right now."

He met her gaze, his eyes filled with sincerity, hoping she could see the truth in his words.

 Death is..." He paused, his voice growing quieter, more fragile.
 "Death is forever. There's no coming back from that."
He swallowed hard, wishing he could do more than just speak words. The silence stretched between them, heavy with everything left unsaid.

Hana let out a soft, bitter laugh.
"I like how it sounds. At least it has some kind of certainty."

Minho let out a humorless chuckle, shaking his head in disbelief. His tone was soft, gentle, though tinged with confusion. "You're insane, you know that?" He gave her a small, fond smile, trying to make the moment feel lighter, to ease the heaviness between them. "Only you could look at death and see it as a certainty, a comfort."

Hana's gaze drifted away, her eyes clouded with emotion. Her voice was quiet, each word weighed down with the depth of her inner turmoil. "I know I'm insane. But no one wants such a handful. It makes love... worthless because the person is hard to love."

"I know you've been through hell, been dealt a shitty hand in life. But that doesn't mean your life isn't worth living. Doesn't make you worthless, or hard to love, you're you, if someone is to love you, they will, just the way you are."

Hana's eyes were distant, her shoulders heavy under the weight of the pain she couldn't shake. She didn't answer immediately, just sat there in silence.
"It isn't, though. It isn't worth living," she whispered, the words a quiet defeat. "No one's gonna love me if I am the way I am."

"Is it really? Is it not worth it when I could give up anything for you? When you have seven others who'd do anything to keep safe and happy?"

Hana's eyes flickered with something sharp, but her voice was soft, weary.
"There's absolutely no one or no thing that can make my life worth it, even for a minute. I've lived 23 years, not one with peace."

Minho's arms around her tightened just slightly, his voice growing more urgent, desperate for her to hear him.

"Yes, it is. It's worth living because there's still so much you haven't experienced, so much potential in you. You're lying to yourself, you're letting all the hurtful things you've heard in the past mess with your present."

His heart pounded, the truth of his words filling the space between them.
"You have so much to offer, Hana. You can't throw it all away."

"But I want to- I want to give up. I can't do this anymore."
Hana's voice broke, barely a whisper, but it carried a weight too heavy to ignore.

Minho let out a shaky sigh,
"Don't say that. Don't say you want to give up," he said, his voice thick with emotion.
"Because I refuse to believe that. I refuse to believe that the only thing you want to do is give up and die."

Hana's gaze was distant, her face hardened by the battle inside her.
"It's high time you do then," she replied, her voice cold, as if it was all inevitable.

"No," he said, his voice low and intense.
"I won't give up on you. You can push me away all you want, you can say you want to die, but I'll be damned if I just stand back and watch you destroy yourself."

She looked up at him, eyes filled with a quiet, weary resolve.
"Then don't watch. Leave now. Before things get more messy, before you get all tangled up in this mess."

Minho's chest tightened at the thought, the fear of losing her too great to ignore. He leaned in, his voice soft but firm. "I'm not leaving. I'm not going anywhere. Not now, not ever."

"What if one day I left you? What if after all your efforts, I still left you?"

Minho's heart sank at her words. He looked at her, his eyes searching for any sign of hope, but she wouldn't meet his gaze. The distance between them seemed to stretch even further.

"Don't say that. Don't even think that." His voice was soft but firm, the urgency clear.
"I wouldn't let you leave, not for good."

"For fuck's sake, please."
She let out a chilling sob.

He gently turned to face her, carefully cupping her face in his hands.
"No, please don't cry," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "How could I possibly let you go? I just found you, and you think I'm going to walk away now? Not a chance. I'm already in too deep, and whether you like it or not, I'm not going anywhere."

"Maybe I'll regret caring for someone as stubborn and broken as you," he said, his voice strained with the weight of his words. "But I'd rather regret trying than live with the regret of not trying at all."

He paused, his gaze softening as he searched her eyes.
"You think it's easy for me? Caring about someone who seems hell-bent on destroying themselves? It's like trying to hold onto smoke, slipping through my fingers. But I can't just walk away, leave you to your own chaos. Because for some godforsaken reason, I care about you."

"What is it that's making you fight so much?"
she asked, her voice a mix of confusion and concern.

He paused, his eyes drifting down as he searched for the right words. His hand slowly slid off her shoulder, falling into his lap as he took a deep breath.

"Because I see you," he finally said, his voice steady, yet filled with an earnestness that made his words feel undeniable. "I see past the pain and the anger and the walls you've built around yourself. And I care because you're worth it. Even if you can't see it, even if you don't believe it right now. I can't give up on someone I like."

Hana stared at him, her expression a storm of confusion and frustration, her mind struggling to make sense of his words.

"Please don't give me that look. I know, I know what I said. I like you, I have for a very long time. And you didn't have to be anything extraordinary for me, I like you just the way you are, with all your flaws, your pain. Everything."

She shook her head, her voice thick with disbelief. "You don't mean that, Minho. You pity me. Everyone who knows even a part of me does."

"Yeah I don't mean that. Because I can go as far as to say that I even love you, but I don't want to drive you away."

"Minho don't you realize, how much I've been ruined, and how much I've ruined for myself. I'm terrified. I'm so, so, so fucking terrified. Terrified that if I let you in, I'll ruin you too."
Her breath hitched, panic suddenly seizing her.

Her eyes brimmed with fear, her words spilling out in a frantic rush.
"You can't put yourself in this position. This... whatever we are—roommates, friends—this is as much as you can handle. Even this is messy. I can't lose you, so I'll settle for us just like this, without asking for anything more. I'm just grateful... that you're still here, after everything that's happened. After everything I've done."

"Are you confessing to me right now?"

"Ye-No. No I'm warning you."

"You just did, and you can't decide if I want to fall in love with you."

"But I can stop you before its too late, before you're hurt, and before I am."

"You can't stop what's already happened, I'm afraid you'll have to rewind time to stop it."

"What?"

"I've loved you for as long as I've known you. I've been in love with you since the moment I first laid eyes on you. You're worth it—so worth it. After everything you've been through, you're just... even better."

"How bad can it be? You've only known me for eight months."

"I've known you longer than that. And that... that's not a bad thing."

"I don't understand."

"I've loved you since the moment I first saw you—when we were just kids. You never realized, but I admired you from afar. I'd show up at school just to see you, even if it was only for twenty minutes. And when I got to spend the whole day with you? It was the best feeling, because you were there, and nothing else mattered. Every time I spoke to you, I just wished you'd say more than a few words. But even when you didn't, I still loved you. Then you left, and you broke my heart when you did. I thought I'd never see you again. But I did. Thirteen years later. And Hana... I'm still just as smitten, if not more. Isn't that proof enough? How much I like you, no matter what you do?"

"You're such a hopeless romantic. Thirteen years... you wasted it."

"It's not a waste if it led me to you in the end."

"Are you glad... that you met me again?"

"Oh, I'm so glad, so glad that I would do it all again if I knew I'd find you again." He whispered.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, turning to pull him into a hug. "I'm so sorry."

"The only thing you need to apologize for is making me wait this long to say all this," he said, a soft chuckle escaping him, her breath warm against his neck.

"I still believe there's a part of you that wants to be happy, that wants to fix things," he continued. "But it's buried, overshadowed by all the pain, the bullshit you've been through. This right here, this moment... it's proof of that."

"I'll fix myself for you. I will try. I will try to be more than this fucked up version of me."

"I like this fucked up version of you. It let's me take care of you."

"Then how am I supposed to be fixed?"

"I'll try to fix you."

"How can you fix me when you don't even know what's wrong?"

"Oh, I know enough," he said, his voice steady. "Because loving you is enough for now. That is, if you'll let me. We'll figure it out, Hana, at your pace. I'm okay with anything... as long as I'm with you."

"I like you too," she whispered, her voice trembling slightly. "I'm sorry if I made you think I didn't."

"Oh thank fuck," I exhaled, but I felt so giddy.
"You have no idea how scared I was that you were going to push me away again."

"I couldn't do that to you, never again."

He leaned down to kiss her forehead,
"I'd still love you either way."

The bell rang, breaking the moment as they held each other's gaze.

"Are we expecting someone?" Minho asked, a curious glance at the door.

"It's just Jeongin and Seungmin,"
 she replied, stepping out of his embrace to walk toward the door.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

I rushed to the door, Minho likely strolling behind me, but he didn't follow when I stepped past the foyer's threshold. I stopped for a moment, thinking. I didn't want them to see it up close.

But it was time to stop shutting them out.

I hid most of myself behind the door, cracking it open slowly before swinging it wide in one swift motion. Stepping back, I stood beside Minho, giving them room to enter. Usually, they'd flood in with their familiar, chaotic energy—joking, bickering, voices overlapping in the noise of it all. But this time? There was nothing. A thick, uncomfortable silence hung in the air.

They slipped off their shoes, their eyes inevitably landing on me, and once they did, they never moved away. I tried to force a smile—tried to reassure them with a look—but it didn't reach my eyes. They weren't fooled. Not with the dark bruise on my face speaking volumes.

Seungmin took a deep breath, his eyes locking onto mine with a look that probably said,
"Hana, just why?"

Jeongin's voice broke the silence a second later, raw and barely above a whisper: "God, it looks so much worse."

I swallowed hard, offering a dry, humorless laugh. "I'm sure that's how bruises work," I said, my voice quieter than I intended.

They raised their hands toward my face, fingers trembling just slightly before they grazed the edge of the bruise. The touch was gentle, tentative, as if they were afraid to cause more pain. The moment their skin met mine, I winced, the sharp sting of the contact pulling through me like a fresh wave of hurt. "Sorry," they mumbled, their voice barely audible.

"It's really fine, I'm okay," I said, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach my eyes.
They didn't buy it.

"Why do you still go to them, when all they do is hurt you?" Seungmin's voice was barely a whisper, but it cut through the silence like a blade. "Stop it, please. Is it really worth it?"

"What could I possibly do, Seungmin?" I sighed, looking away.
"It's an issue either way. At least this way, only Mum's upset with me. I still love them enough to not make things worse, do my part."

Jeongin shook his head, eyes dark with frustration.
"But they made you stop loving yourself. You don't, Hana. You never did. It's not worth it."

"I guess that's what happens when a parent doesn't love their child," I murmured, my voice cracking. "It just stops loving itself. But I still... love them. I still care."

"It's okay, Hana. You'll be okay." Minho's voice was soft as he rubbed the sides of my shoulders in a side-hug, a quiet comfort. Seungmin and Jeongin pulled me into a big hug too, their arms wrapping around me tightly, as if they could shield me from everything else.

"I'm so sorry this happened," Seungmin whispered into my hair.

"You were finally getting better, you were happier," Jeongin murmured, his voice strained.
"I'll never forgive them for ruining it for you, yet again." 

They all pulled away, their eyes locked on mine, expectant but gentle.
"Tell us everything."

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

We pulled the couch out to make room for everyone, allowing us to sit close together in a huddle. I found a spot in the corner, with Minho sitting beside me, just enough distance between us. Seungmin and Jeongin sat across from us, next to each other.

"Some of this... might be my fault," I said quietly.
"I chose to ignore a lot of things, just to keep the peace."

"Hana," Jeongin said, his voice steady and reassuring, "we all make stupid decisions, but we know you didn't do anything wrong. So it's okay. Continue, please."

"You know how I lived in Gimpo before, well the only reason we left was because of my mom. She believed she had better opportunities in Seoul, and my dad, well, he was fully on board with the idea. So, one day, we just started packing and moved without much warning."

I stole a quick glance at Minho, who met my gaze with a wistful smile.

"She was right, she made a lot of connections here, grew her company more. There was one family, though, that she became especially close with, to the point where they suggested we become family friends. That's when I met their son, Yedam. He is around Hyunjin's age and, apparently, he took a liking to me. He even confessed a while after our CSATs were over. When we started medical school, he just so happened to be admitted at the same time. And from that moment on, it felt like he was always there. Everywhere. It made me feel uneasy."

"So you're saying... you turned him down?" Minho asked, his tone curious.

"Of course I did," I replied, my voice steady. "I couldn't stand him the moment I laid eyes on him. After I rejected him, he never made another move, but he still came around from time to time, doing favors for my parents, stuff like that. He tried to win them over, and I saw it all, but I kept quiet. As for my parents... well, they're incredibly fond of him. They dote on him, saying things to him that I've never once heard them say to me."

I told them how Yedam 'coincidentally' ran into me and Minho at the hospital, and how, when he saw me leaving with Bangchan, he made a point to call me out on it. How Yedam followed us while we shopped for a dress.

"Nothing's ever going to make me like your parents, no offense," Jeongin said, his tone blunt but not unkind.

"My dad wasn't so bad," I replied, my voice softening. "I mean, he wasn't bad at all. At the ceremony, I thought his smiles and the way he spoke about me to his colleagues were all just a façade, but now... I don't think it was. He was genuinely smiling at me, and he said nice things about me. I think he meant it."

"I mean, your father was always pleasant to be around," Seungmin said, his voice thoughtful. "I'll admit, he had a bit of a scary aura, but once he warmed up to someone, he wasn't so bad. He only ever yelled at you when you were having too much fun. Don't you remember when we were new to you? Your mom explained things to him, and he calmed down. After that, he was never upset about us coming over again. Your mom, though... she was always nice in the short term, but she had this way of taunting you whenever we visited."

"Wait, so you're saying your dad knows what your mom planned?" Minho asked, raising an eyebrow in surprise.

"Yeah, well, there was a lot of screaming and crying," I said, my voice tinged with frustration.
 "Of course, he heard it all. So did Yedam's family."

"I can't believe your mom actually set someone up to stalk you," Jeongin said, shaking his head in disbelief. "I mean, seriously?"

"I couldn't believe it either," I said, my voice shaky. "And I'm scared of all that he knows."

"Hana, you haven't done anything wrong," Minho reassured me.
"You're just living. What could Yedam possibly know?"

I hesitated, then whispered, "That day, at the hospital... you and me."

"Yeah, and?" he asked, not fully understanding.

"His flashlight," I said, anxiety creeping into my words. "It was on. What if... what if he has proof?"

"I'm sorry," Minho said, his voice full of regret. "I shouldn't have put that in your head. You were probably right, Hana. It could have been anything other than him taking a picture."

"You could be right, Minho," I replied, my tone uncertain.

"How do you know?" he asked, looking at me with concern.

"Because back then, I didn't know Yedam was stalking me. That's the only reason I told you not to worry about it."

"Hana, you can't seriously want to stay in contact with them after what she did. Do you understand the gravity of this situation?" Jeongin's voice grew more intense. "She hired someone to stalk you, so she could..." He stopped, shaking his head. "Saying it out loud makes it sound so much worse."

He sighed, his voice heavy. "You do realize he could get jail time if this went public?"

"Wait, wait, wait—stop right there," I cut in, holding up his hands. "That's not the solution. It's not going to solve my problem. Because it's not like he tried to physically harm me, and we know each other. It could easily be brushed under the rug, forgotten. The real issue here is my mum. She was reckless. She tried to... sell me away."

"This all worries me," I said, the unease in my voice growing. "I keep wondering how much my parents actually know. Like, Yedam doesn't even need to tell them for them to find out."

Minho frowned, his brow furrowing in confusion.
 "How would they know if Yedam doesn't tell them?"

I took a deep breath before responding. "What if my father's trying keeping an eye on my performance? He's well-known, he could get information with the snap of his fingers. If he knows I'm skipping my internship, he probably already knows why. And that could explain his shift in behavior."

"He would address it, Hana," Minho said, his voice soft but firm. "From what you've told me about your father, he may be awfully strict, but he's doing it all for you, for your sake. Because he genuinely cares."

"Even if he doesn't know, Yedam already does," I said, my voice low.

"What?" Minho replied, clearly confused. "I thought he heard it was just another fainting episode?"

I shook my head. "No, he knows. He addressed it indirectly."

"When was this?" Minho asked, his brow furrowing.

"The week I returned to my lectures," I replied, my voice steady but heavy with the memory. "He came to see me, give me make-up work, and left a comment about how I was hurting myself."

"All he has to do is open his mouth," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "He doesn't even need proof. I am the proof."

"If he's a decent man, he wouldn't do that, Hana," Seungmin said, his voice steady but firm. "And even if he does, it doesn't define you. Your parents won't treat you any worse. If they do, I swear to fucking god, you will never see them again. I'll make sure of that myself."

I looked down, guilt and frustration rising. "I may have told Mom and Dad to ask Yedam what they've caused me to do, out of frustration. You don't understand, Seungmin, they're all over me. I hate it, I hate it so much. This was the one thing I never wanted them to know and now I can't hide it, not from my mom."

"Hana, it's okay," Jeongin said gently, his tone softening. "It's okay. They should know this. They almost lost their child."

"If they ever find out, and if you ever plan to explain to them, we'll be there," Minho added, his grip firm as he held my hand. "I'll even come with you. You won't be going through it alone."

"I'm okay," I said quietly, trying to steady my breathing. "I'm okay enough to admit what I did. I just don't want to hurt them."

"Maybe they'll end up regretting what they did," Minho said softly, offering a small smile. "Maybe you'll finally get what you've always wanted—parental love. See it from the positive side, okay Hana? It will hurt, but in the end, it will be for the good."

I nodded, I had nothing to say to that, or well maybe I did.
"Thank you," I said quietly, my voice trembling a bit. "Thank you for being here for me. I probably wouldn't be here without you three." I chuckled softly, wiping away a lone tear that slipped down my face.

"Don't say that, you've done just fine on your own," Seungmin said, his voice reassuring as the three of them engulfed me in a warm hug.

"Hey, I know it's not the right time," I said, a small smile tugging at my lips. "But is amusement park-camping night still on?"

"Seriously? That's your concern right now?" Jeongin questioned, confused but there was a smile on his face.

"I mean, when have my concerns ever have been about having fun?" I shrugged, a mischievous glint in my eyes. "For once, fuck this mess, I can't be bothered to spoil this weekend for everyone... and myself."

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

a/n: Definitely didn't post this for a certain someone wink wink.

Think of this chapter as a goodbye, just for now. Please don't forget about it though—I'll be back with new chapters before you know it!