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Summary
Beomgyu refuses to believe he hallucinated that warmth. That affection. The trembling in Yeonjun’s hands when he was feeling so faint he couldn’t keep his head up and his eyes open. He could smell the fear in his scent more than he could feel any of his limbs.
It wasn’t fake.
But then, if none of that was fake, how do you explain what happened? How do you explain the grin and the non-chalance about all of it?
The fact that he didn’t even have enough in himself to give Soobin — their damn leader — one last look before just vanishing?
Beomgyu wants to hate him so, so much. He wants to tear that smirk off his face bare-handed. He wants to ask why in the first place. Why betray them, why do this with them when he could’ve just fucking killed them and spared them the agony?
Beomgyu wants to scream at him. Wants to demand an answer as to why he didn’t choose them. Why he didn’t choose him.
There’s no Yeonjun to yell at. Just the walls.