Perfect

It just seemed to hurt so much worse when he saw the expressions of his members, his best friends. His heart was laid bare for their eyes, their thoughts and their love. When he looked at them, at their pity, at their sadness. At the way their concern wafted out of them and surrounded him in their protective cocoon. He cried.

They were mirrors to the truth, mirrors to the real emotions that swam within his chest.

MinJae remembered that they knew and he remembered his predicament. With them, there was no reason to be strong, and so with them, he was at his weakest. For a while, he wanted to run from their eyes, their pity and sorrow for him. Later, he stayed because in their pity he was protected and so much more loved.

It came and went. Sometimes he wanted to be protected and soothed, sometimes he wanted to forget. Consuming those suppressants was a no brainer. He would take one or two of those pills daily, occasionally a little more when he wanted the extra kick.

But the pain transformed into an emptiness in his chest that scared him. It was so much more horrifying without the pain, to feel that huge gaping hole in his chest, like a snapped-off cord. It crippled him in more ways than ever.

The pain had been physical, a burden, something that took his mind off the real problem. The emptiness was personal, a feeling that reminded him again and again of his loss. It made him think of nothing, it made him feel like nothing. It made him wish that nothing loved him so he wouldn't feel obligated to keep existing.

Why did they love him?

At least the pain made him feel alive. It made him want it to stop, it made him want to get better.

So he stopped popping those pills like candy, stopped taking the medicine and the drugs the doctor had given. A bad decision perhaps. All his decisions had been bad. He just didn't know it.

Up until this point.

With the lilacs, something within him dissipated. A curtain parted, pulled back like a stage revealing the beauty behind the black velvet. The flowers revealed the emotions that had coiled strong within his belly. It sprung up at him so suddenly and so horrifyingly strong that his breath was robbed from him.

The lust for her, the attraction, the inner need for her touch. The yearning, the warmth, the soothing drip in his chest like sweet honey that filled the void. His mind had melted a little at her beauty. Dazed and confused.

His gaze drifted from the tips of her ears, to the thick lush lashes, to the bud of her lips. It moved to the pretty gold that stained her peach cheeks and he wondered how he had missed out that part in his moments of rage.

Because she was beautiful, he was attracted and perhaps if he hadn't let his emotions run wild, that could have been an indication of the truth.

He had let himself drown in the pain. His pain.

The pain consumed him whole. It overtook him, his every action was in its command. He was at his nastiest and his moodiest. The monsters within him were surfacing whenever he let himself go. So when he had seen her in the hotel. The wide-eyed, pretty Bambi that had been sprawled on the carpet, shock painting her face. The dreaded words spilling from her lips in the most horrible of combinations he had ever heard.

You'll never be enough to replace her.

The pain had flared, torturing him in his chest, consuming him whole. It had been everything and the only thing he could feel. It felt almost like a physical wound. Like she had stabbed him in the chest with a rusted, barbed sword that she twisted and twisted. Again and again.

He had been confused by the pain and his mind easily linked it to dark, negative emotions. It had sparked some kind of hatred and loathing for her. He did not understand why the pain in his chest flared at the sight of her.

Pain was how your body told you to avoid an action, pain was how your body told you something was wrong and so pain told him she was the problem. Something evil and insidious had swirled in his insides, poisoning his mind and staining its red fleshy parts into tar.

In his world, the sky had been red that day.

His manager had tried to give him the specifics of her situation but he had waved it off without a care. He was sure he wouldn't see her again, sure that the company could at least do that favour for him after they had royally fucked up more than once. He'd been asked about his soulmate. He'd been exposed on stage. No protocol for his protection.

Seeing her in his dormitory a month or two after had been nothing different. It was pain and anger all the same. Only this time he was emotionally invested and more than just pissed.

He was livid.

His best friends were now victims to her treachery and in his mind, she was the common enemy. A wolf hiding under sheepskin. A worm in their apple. The poison in the golden chalice. She was there like a siren that sang too well, her voice calling for them to jump to their deaths.

Even if something else swirled in response to her eyes, he didn't care. He pushed all of that aside because the pain in his mind from the thought that she had tricked everyone was more than enough to turn him.

The pain had consumed him.

MinJae took that pain and he took that anger. He turned it into a wave of anger that seared. Anger that burned and melted away at skin, at common sense, at logical reasoning, at humanity. It was more than an annoyance, more than just simple anger.

It was hatred.

He was shrouded in darkness, a veil swathed over his eyes so that he couldn't see past his fury. He couldn't see beyond his emotions and that allowed him to step upon the devil's path. All he wanted was her destruction and her pain for hurting them. He had been everything he had been taught not to be, everything he hated, and everything he detested.

But in his mind, MinJae had been protective.

Sieon, his beautiful, beautiful best friend. His lover from another life, the water to his rain, the light to his sun. He was the boy who had held his hand from the very start and such a beloved person should not have to face the evils of the world. Evils that a strong person like Ezra, someone who had faced so many hardships in life and triumphed in the belly of the beast had been broken by. He hated her for breaking Ezra, for tearing down his shields that MinJae and his BFFs had struggled to build.

It was only natural that anger consumed MinJae.

The reactions of the members had simply fuelled his flames, paper to fire, oil to fire, oxygen to fire. He was like a l protecting her den of cubs. His hatred soared, and he wanted her scared. He wanted her crying. He wanted her hurt. He wanted her out.

Maybe, he even wanted her dead.

And now she was dying.

And he didn't know what was going on or how this was happening. He didn't know why this was happening to him. At that moment, the veil of darkness had lifted from his eyes and all he could see was each and every one of his fucking mistakes.

His fucking mistakes.

Sir? Sir. Keep your hand on her at all times.

"I-I don't understand," he babbled as he followed, lost as he stumbled. Suddenly the path he'd been on the entire time disappeared under his feet and he was in the sea with no land in sight. He clung to her as his mind struggled and struggled to grasp the situation at hand.

How did everything nosedive so quickly?

"I don't understand," he repeated as they climbed into the ambulance. The paramedics did not respond. Too busy perhaps, fiddling with all the machines attached to her frame. They spoke to one another in a medical language that MinJae didn't understand. The ambulance jerked, speeding off and MinJae felt sick.

So, so sick.

Sir, don't worry we will get your soulmate to the hospital in time.

His soulmate.

Nausea churned in his stomach, something heavy sinking within him. It held him in its clutches and suddenly he realised that tears had been dripping down his cheeks and spilling onto the lilacs that danced over her body.

The pretty purple and pink petals were beautiful on the paleness of her chest. There was something strangely ethereal about the way it shielded her nudity, giving him fleeting glimpses of generous curves and darker shades of pink. Not that he cared at the moment, because his cock wilted further with the gut-wrenching regret that coiled in his throat.

He didn't understand how this could be happening. The monitors reacted again, beeps and shrill wails of sound that sent his heart flying in his chest in panic. It was already racing but he couldn't feel it in his shock. The adrenaline high that drugged his veins forcing him into a jittery state.

Sir, I need you to lie down with her.

He complied. He didn't dare not to and they placed her on him. Her head nuzzled in the crook of his neck and their hearts pressed directly over one another. He was already the shortest in the team and yet she seemed so small in his arms. So small and so so—perfect.