Pᴀʀᴛ -1

𝑯𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒊 𝒎𝒆𝒂𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 :- आपकी नजरों ने समझा प्यार के काबिल हमें।

★

Sᴘᴇᴄɪᴀʟ sᴛᴏʀʏ ғᴏʀ ᴄᴇʟᴇʙʀᴀᴛɪɴɢ 2ᴋ ᴠɪᴇᴡs ᴏɴ ᴛʜɪs ʙᴏᴏᴋ. Iᴋ ғᴏʀ sᴏᴍᴇ ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀs ɪᴛs sᴏ ᴇᴀsʏ, ʙᴜᴛ I'ᴠᴇ ᴡᴏʀᴋᴇᴅ ᴍʏ ᴀssᴇs ᴏғғ ᴛᴏ ɢᴇᴛ ᴛʜɪs ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʟʟ sᴜᴘᴘᴏʀᴛᴇᴅ ᴍᴇ ᴛᴏᴏ. Sᴏ ᴛʜᴀɴᴋs ᴀɴᴅ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ɪᴛ.

★✰✯☆✩✩★✰✯☆

Kim Seokjin - a blind young boy who lost his eyes in a tragic car accident, the same accident that took away his parents. At the tender age of nine, he was left alone in a world of darkness, an orphan whose only companions were the shadows of his memories. But fate, in its curious mercy, led him to a humble statue shop, where a kind-hearted lady with a heart of gold and hands calloused by years of molding clay took him in as her own. She became his grandmother, not by blood, but by a bond far stronger, and under her care, Jin's life took on a new form, like the statues she sculpted so lovingly.

The old woman's hands, though weathered, were gentle as they guided Jin through life, teaching him the values of ethics, kindness, and the strength found in simplicity. She never allowed him to feel different or weaker than others; instead, she nurtured within him a resilience that became his most formidable shield. Under her watchful eye, Jin learned the art of statue-making—an irony of fate that someone deprived of sight would create such breathtaking beauty, yet he did.

Jin's statues became his voice, his way of seeing the world through the textures he molded, and soon his name spread far and wide. People came from distant places to witness the miracle of a blind boy who could carve with such precision and emotion, leaving them awestruck. The tales of his artistry passed from one buyer to the next, growing richer with each retelling.

"Jin hyung? Is this concrete fine?" A youthful voice broke through the silence, filled with an innocence that made Jin smile despite the weight of his burdens.

"Pass me a small ball of the concrete, Bong," Jin replied, his tone gentle yet instructive. His hands, delicate and skilled, prepared the moulder for yet another masterpiece.

Minhuk—'Bong' as he was affectionately called—was a spirited fifteen-year-old, the antithesis of Jin's calm maturity. Bong had been left behind, abandoned in the chaos of a village fair by parents who saw him as a burden too heavy to bear. But just as with Jin, the grandmother had opened her heart and home to Bong, and thus, the two boys became brothers, bound not by blood but by shared pain and the nurturing love of the old woman.

While Jin, now twenty-three, carried an air of quiet wisdom beyond his years, Bong was a burst of laughter and light, a mischievous smile never far from his lips. People often remarked on Bong's ability to bring joy to even the darkest of days with just a flash of his bunny-like grin. But Jin had never seen that smile, never witnessed the way it could transform a room.

It was one of the many things he would never see, a reality he had long accepted, though not without a lingering sense of loss.

Jin shook his head, the thoughts of what he could never experience fading as he focused on the task at hand. He reached out and took the clay ball Bong passed him, his sensitive fingers feeling its texture. With practiced ease, he rolled the clay between his palms, gauging its consistency.

"Bong, add some more plaster of Paris. Two cups should do," Jin instructed, his voice calm, almost meditative as he continued working on the statue he had begun the night before.

The day wore on, the familiar rhythm of their work soothing in its predictability, until Jin felt a few strands of hair fall across his face. It didn't obstruct his vision—nothing could—but the sensation was enough to irritate him. He brushed the hair aside with a swift movement, trying to maintain his focus.

But then, something else intruded, a touch on his face, rough and unwelcome. Instinctively, he slapped the hand away, a sharp sting of fear lancing through his chest.

"Aww, is the baby angry?" A voice sneered, dripping with condescension and something far darker that made Jin's stomach churn.

"Get away from me, you bastard!" Jin shouted, his voice trembling with a mix of rage and fear as he shoved the man, though his strength was no match for the malice that loomed before him. The man simply chuckled, a sound that sent a shiver down Jin's spine.

It was Kai, the son of the village collector, a man who reveled in power and cruelty. Kai's desires were as twisted as his soul, and he had set his sights on Jin, claiming it as love, though it was nothing more than lust and control. He frequented the shop with his band of thugs, their presence a dark cloud over Jin's days. They would taunt him, threaten him, and sometimes, Kai's hands would stray too far, his intentions clear.

The villagers knew, but they turned a blind eye, fearing Kai's wrath more than they valued justice. The shop, which should have been a sanctuary for Jin, Bong, and their grandmother, was instead a place of terror whenever Kai appeared.

Jin's blindness, a burden he had borne with grace for so long, now felt like a curse. The helplessness of not being able to see his tormentor, to anticipate his moves, filled him with a rare but potent sense of despair.

He could defend himself only by instinct, and more often than not, that wasn't enough. His nights were spent in restless sleep, the morning pillow damp with tears he couldn't remember shedding.

"You filthy man, stop harassing my hyung!" Bong's voice rang out, defiant yet tinged with fear as he stood his ground, glaring at Kai with all the courage he could muster.

"Aww, look who's here! My future brother-in-law," Kai mocked, his tone dripping with disdain as he twisted Jin's arm painfully.

"What a fine little family we have. Just imagine, Bong, when you grow up, you'll be quite the catch yourself. Your cute little face, those big eyes... I might have to take you for myself."

The vile words were cut off by Jin's swift kick, a burst of resistance born of sheer desperation.

"DON'T DARE EVEN THINK ABOUT IT!" Jin's voice was a roar, filled with a fire that he rarely allowed himself to show, but Kai only laughed, the sound cold and cruel.

Kai retaliated by yanking Jin's hair, pulling him closer with a viciousness that made Jin wince in pain.

"Say it, Bong. Tell me I'm perfect for your brother."

Silence.

"Say it!"

Kai's demand was sharper this time, the threat in his voice unmistakable.

But Bong remained still, his small frame trembling, eyes wide with fear but locked on the ground, refusing to give Kai the satisfaction.

Kai's frustration boiled over, and in a fit of rage, he pushed Bong with such force that the boy stumbled out of the shop, teetering on the edge of falling until, suddenly, a pair of strong arms caught him. Bong, breathless and shaken, looked up into the face of a stranger—a man who had appeared out of nowhere, like a guardian angel in the midst of their torment.

"Are you okay, little boy?" The man's voice was deep, calm, and warm, carrying a strength that seemed to envelop Bong in a protective embrace. It was the kind of voice that made you believe everything would be alright.

Bong, usually quick to reject being called 'little,' found himself nodding instead, the fear loosening its grip on his heart. This was a man who could help, a man who might actually make a difference.

"H-help, please. Save my hyung, please," Bong's voice was barely above a whisper, but the plea in his eyes was impossible to ignore.

The stranger's gaze shifted to the scene inside the shop, where Kai held Jin captive in a twisted mockery of affection. The man's expression hardened, a steely resolve replacing the warmth from moments before.

"Oh, so you're going to play hero now, huh? Let me tell you something, stranger," Kai sneered, his confidence undented. "You'd better walk away if you value your life. No one crosses me and lives to tell the tale."

Jin's heart sank, expecting the stranger to leave, just as everyone else had. But then he heard it—the sound of fists meeting flesh, the sharp grunts of pain, the sudden chaos of a fight. Jin could only stand there, helpless and terrified, as the sounds of the struggle filled the air, his mind racing with thoughts of what could be happening. Who was this man? And why was he risking his life for them?

"You'll regret this!" Kai's voice, now laced with fear, cut through the clamor.

"Jin, you can't hide from me forever. This guy might save you now, but I'll be back. I'll always come back for you."

The roar of an engine followed as Kai and his thugs made their escape, leaving behind the echoes of a threat that hung in the air like a storm cloud. The shop was left in a battered silence, broken only by Bong's small, sobbing breaths as he ran to Jin, wrapping his arms around his older brother in a desperate hug. Jin knelt, holding Bong close, his fingers gently ruffling the boy's hair in a comforting gesture that belied the turmoil inside him.

"So, they come here often?" The stranger's voice was back to its earlier calm, but now it carried an undercurrent of something harder, a quiet fury restrained by sheer will.

"Yes," Jin replied, his voice soft but edged with a weariness that spoke of countless encounters like this one. "They come here once or twice a week. Those vile creatures... they can't even spare a blind man. It's a disgrace, truly, that in a world so vast, cruelty can find its way even to the smallest corners."

The stranger nodded, though Jin couldn't see the gesture. His presence, though new, already felt like a barrier against the dark forces that had plagued them. It was as if he was the embodiment of all the unspoken hopes Jin and Bong had held onto for so long.

The grandmother entered the shop, her face a portrait of worry and age-old strength. "Thank you so much, young man," she said, her voice trembling slightly.

She hurried over to Jin and Bong, her hands fluttering over them, checking for injuries. "Babies, are you alright? I ran here as soon as I heard that monster's voice. Are you hurt? Oh, I'm so sorry I wasn't here to protect you."

Jin shook his head, his expression one of gentle acceptance. "I'm fine, Grandma. And Bong, are you okay?" His voice softened further, laced with brotherly concern.Bong, still clinging to Jin, nodded vigorously.

"I'm okay, hyung. And you too, oldie," he added, looking up at the grandmother with a cheeky smile, "it's not your fault."

The grandmother sighed, her shoulders sagging under the weight of her guilt. "It breaks my heart to see you suffer like this. The world is so unjust to those who don't deserve it."

Jin, though blind, seemed to see into the very soul of the stranger who had saved them. The man stood there, tall and resolute, and though he had just fought for them, there was a gentleness about him that Jin could sense even without sight.

"Thank you," Jin said, his voice filled with gratitude. "You saved us. We owe you more than words can express."

"I did what anyone with a conscience would do," the man replied modestly. Yet there was a note of something deeper in his voice—perhaps an understanding of the pain that lay beneath the surface of Jin's calm exterior.

Bong pulled away from Jin and ran to the stranger, throwing his arms around him in a spontaneous hug.

"Thank you, mister! When I grow up, I'll be strong like you, and I'll protect my hyung and granny too! How did you learn to fight like that? Will you teach me?"

The stranger chuckled, a sound that seemed to melt the tension in the room. "Okay, Bong. I'll teach you. But you've got to promise me one thing."

"What's that?" Bong asked, his eyes wide with curiosity.

"Promise me you'll always use your strength to protect those who need it, just like today."Bong nodded eagerly, his face lighting up with the sincerity of his promise.

"I will, I promise!"

"And thank you," Bong added after a pause, his voice quieter now, as if the enormity of what had just happened was beginning to sink in. "Thank you for saving us."

The stranger smiled, ruffling Bong's hair affectionately. "You're welcome, Bong. And you're right—you're going to grow up to be just as strong as your hyung."

"H-how do you know my name, mister?" Bong asked, tilting his head in wonder."

Well, as much as I heard, I can say you're Bong, she's your granny, and he's Jin." The stranger's smile was warm, but his gaze lingered on Jin for a moment longer, as if he was trying to understand the depths of the young man who stood before him.

Jin smiled in return, a smile that, though unseen by him, could be felt in the room, like the first rays of dawn after a long night. "But isn't it unfair that we all don't know your name? Right, Bong?"

Bong nodded vigorously. "Yeah, it's unfair!"

The stranger chuckled again, this time with a hint of bashfulness. "Well, I'm Jeon Jeongguk. I happened to be passing by when I noticed your shop. I came to take a look and found Bong being pushed out. The rest, I believe, you already know."

"Jeon Jeongguk," Jin repeated, as if testing the name on his lips. "It suits you."

"Woah, Jeongguk hyung, you have a really cool smile!" Bong exclaimed, his voice filled with admiration.

"Thank you, Bong," Jeongguk replied, a hint of a blush coloring his cheeks. "And your smile—it's the most charming smile I've ever seen."

Bong beamed, his grin wide and uncontainable. "Thanks!"

"It was nice meeting all of you," Jeongguk continued, a note of reluctance in his voice, "but I should get going. It's getting late, and I need to find a place to stay for the night. I'll come by tomorrow to take a better look at your statues."

"Son..." The grandmother's voice was hesitant but filled with hope. "I know it might not be as comfortable as a motel, but we would be honored to have you as our guest. Please, stay with us tonight. Our home is small, but our hearts are big."

Jeongguk hesitated, not wanting to impose on people who were already bearing so much. But the sincerity in the old woman's voice, in her eyes, was impossible to refuse. He nodded, his resolve softening.

"Okay. I hope I won't be a burden."The room filled with warm laughter, the kind that washes away the remnants of fear.

"You could never be a burden," Jin said, his voice soft yet firm. Each word was like an arrow to Jeongguk's heart, stirring emotions he hadn't expected to feel.

"Then it's settled," the grandmother said, clapping her hands together in delight.

"We'll prepare a place for you. Welcome to our humble home, Jeongguk."

Jeongguk smiled, though it was more of a bashful grin, his usual confidence momentarily overshadowed by the unfamiliar warmth in his chest.

"Thank you," he stammered, his composure slipping just slightly under Jin's unseen gaze.

As the evening settled into night, Jeongguk found himself drawn deeper into the small, yet resilient family before him. And though Jin couldn't see the world, Jeongguk felt as if the young man's presence illuminated something within him—a light that had been dimmed for far too long.

One month later—

Jin sat on the wooden stool in the middle of his workshop, fingers tracing the air as though caressing the invisible shapes only he could see. His sightless eyes, often gazing toward the heavens, were filled with thoughts of someone he could never truly behold.

"I want to make your statue," he finally said, his voice soft, tinged with an unspoken longing that even the darkness could not hide.

Jeongguk's deep chuckle echoed through the room like a soothing melody, wrapping Jin's heart in warmth. "Really? When? I'm ready whenever you are," Jeongguk replied, his voice bright with excitement, yet threaded with a tenderness that belied the depth of his affection.

A smile tugged at the corners of Jin's lips, but it was a smile stained with sorrow, a melancholy sweetness. "I can't hold you forever, Kook... You've already delayed a whole month because of me, but I can't be selfish. You deserve to spread your wings, to soar beyond the horizon. But before you go, I want to capture you in clay, to keep a part of you with me until you return someday."

Jeongguk's arms wrapped around him, pulling him close in a comforting embrace. Jin's head rested against Jeongguk's chest, where he could hear the steady rhythm of his heart—each beat a reassurance, a promise unspoken.

"You're not selfish, love. If anything, I'm the selfish one. The moment I saw you smile that day, I lost my heart to you. I stayed because I wanted to, and I'll stay until you ask me to leave." His lips found Jin's forehead, pressing a kiss there—a gentle seal of his words.

Jin sniffled, a tear slipping past the barrier of his resolve. "I'm so lucky, Kook... so, so lucky to have you. I'll never let you go," he whispered, his voice cracking under the weight of his emotions.

"Then let's do it today," Jeongguk suggested, his voice light with an undercurrent of joy. "Let's make my statue today. I'm excited to see how you'll capture me."

His enthusiasm bubbled over, infecting Jin, who laughed softly, a sound that rang like a bell in the quiet room.

"Let's go then, nae-sarang," Jin said, their fingers intertwining as they walked together, their laughter mingling in the air, a temporary respite from the shadows that often clouded their hearts.

In the workshop, the air was thick with the scent of wet clay, mingled with the warmth of the afternoon sun filtering through the windows. Jeongguk had meticulously arranged all the materials, ensuring everything was within Jin's reach. He placed a stool near the moulder and guided Jin to sit, then took his place opposite him, their knees almost touching.

"All set, Kook?" Jin asked, tilting his head slightly as if waiting for an answer that was not merely verbal.

"Yes, love," Jeongguk replied, his voice steady, though his heart fluttered in his chest. For a moment, he forgot Jin couldn't see the reassuring smile on his lips, so he gently squeezed Jin's hand to convey his readiness.

Jin wetted his hands, letting the cool water trickle through his fingers before he reached out to Jeongguk. His hands moved slowly, reverently, as if sculpting not just from clay but from the very essence of the man he loved. His fingers traced the contours of Jeongguk's face—the curve of his jaw, the bridge of his nose, the softness of his lips—each touch a silent prayer, a vow etched into his memory.

Jeongguk sat perfectly still, his heart swelling with pride and affection as Jin's hands worked. He watched as the clay began to take shape under Jin's skilled fingers, a reflection of himself emerging from the amorphous mass.

When Jin's hands brushed over his eyes and brows, leaving smudges of clay in their wake, Jeongguk couldn't help but chuckle softly, though he made no move to clean it off. He didn't want to disrupt the moment, the intimacy of Jin's touch.

"You're incredible, love," Jeongguk murmured, his voice thick with emotion, causing Jin to blush, his cheeks tinged with a pink that Jeongguk found utterly endearing.

"T-thank you, Kook," Jin stammered, his shyness evident as he continued his work, his focus unwavering.

An hour passed in peaceful silence, save for the occasional rustle of clay and the soft whispers of their breath. When Jin finally stopped, he ran his hands over the completed statue, comparing it to Jeongguk's face once more. He couldn't see the masterpiece he had created, but he could feel it, the contours, the details, each feature carved with precision and love.

"All done!" Jin announced, his voice laced with both excitement and nerves. He waited anxiously for Jeongguk's response, his heart pounding in his chest.

Jeongguk stood, moving closer to the statue, his eyes wide with awe. It was as though he was looking into a mirror, yet the reflection was made of earth and water, shaped by the hands of someone who knew him inside out.

"It's... it's perfect," he breathed, his voice barely above a whisper.Before Jin could react, Jeongguk swept him off the stool, spinning him around in a joyful dance.

"You're amazing, Jin-ah! This is beyond anything I could have imagined!" he exclaimed, his laughter ringing out, full of life and love.

Jin laughed along with him, though he protested, "Kook, put me down! We're going to fall, you big baby!"

But Jeongguk only held him tighter, showering his face with kisses before setting him down gently. He then pulled Jin into a warm embrace, their bodies fitting together like pieces of a puzzle.

"I'm falling more in love with you every day, Jin-ah... This statue, it's not just clay—it's us, our story, captured forever," Jeongguk said, his voice thick with emotion as he pressed a lingering kiss to Jin's lips.

Jin closed his eyes, his heart swelling with an emotion so profound that it left him breathless. He couldn't see Jeongguk, but he didn't need to; he could feel every part of him, and that was enough. Tentatively, he raised his clay-covered hand to Jeongguk's cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin, the strength in his bones.

"I'm already drowning in your colors, Kook," Jin whispered, his lips brushing against Jeongguk's in a tender, feather-light kiss. "You've painted my world with hues I never knew existed."

"And I'll keep painting, love," Jeongguk replied, his voice a hushed vow. "I'll paint every inch of you, until we're so intertwined that nothing can separate us."

Jin's breath hitched, and he leaned into Jeongguk, letting the warmth of his body seep into his soul. "I love you, Kook," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion, "more than words could ever convey."

Jeongguk's hand traced the curve of Jin's waist, his touch gentle yet possessive. "And I love you, my precious petal. I'll love you in every way, in every moment, until the end of time," he whispered, his voice a soft caress against Jin's ear.

Jin blushed deeply, his heart pounding in his chest as he hid his face in Jeongguk's shoulder. But there was no hiding from the love they shared, a love so powerful it transcended sight and sound, a love that was felt in every touch, every whisper, every breath.

"Drown me in your colors, Kook," Jin whispered, his voice trembling with anticipation. "Mark me as yours... forever."

Jeongguk smiled, a smile filled with the promise of a thousand tomorrows. "You're the only one my eyes will ever see, Jin-ah. I'll never let you go."

Jin's heart swelled with a joy so profound it left him breathless, and as Jeongguk's lips met his once more, he knew that this was where he belonged. In Jeongguk's arms, in his heart, forever intertwined, forever loved.

A Month in Bloom: Moments Between Jeongguk and Jin

---

*Week One: The Seeds of Affection*

The first days after Jeongguk's arrival were filled with quiet discoveries, each one bringing them closer to the inevitable bond that was beginning to form. Jeongguk, with his boundless energy and gentle soul, seemed to fit perfectly into the rhythm of Jin's life. He found joy in the simplest things—helping Jin mix paints, organizing his art supplies, or even just sitting beside him in the studio, watching the way Jin's hands moved over the canvas with a grace that left Jeongguk in awe.

One evening, as they sat together in the small garden behind Jin's home, the scent of blooming flowers heavy in the air, Jeongguk looked over at Jin, who was leaning against the old wooden fence, his sightless eyes turned toward the stars. "What do you see?" Jeongguk asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper, as though afraid to break the spell of the night.

Jin smiled, a soft, wistful smile that tugged at Jeongguk's heart. "I see the stars, not with my eyes, but with my heart. They're like tiny bursts of light in a sky full of darkness. They remind me that even in the darkest times, there's always a little bit of light."

Jeongguk reached out, his fingers finding Jin's hand in the dark. "You're that light for me, Jin-ah," he said, his voice thick with sincerity. "Even before I knew you, I felt drawn to you, like you were the guiding star in my life."

Jin's heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, he was lost in the warmth of Jeongguk's touch. It was a simple gesture, but in it, he felt a connection that went beyond words. "Thank you, Kook... for being here with me," he whispered, his voice trembling with the weight of emotions he hadn't yet put into words.

And in that moment, under the canopy of stars, something shifted between them—a silent understanding, a promise of something more.

---

*Week Two: A Dance of Laughter and Love*

By the second week, the ease with which they interacted had blossomed into something more playful, more intimate. It was as if they were dancing around each other, each move bringing them closer, each laugh pulling them deeper into a world where only they existed.

One afternoon, Jeongguk decided to teach Jin how to bake bread. It was a messy affair from the start, with flour dusting every surface of the kitchen and both of them laughing until their sides ached. Jeongguk stood behind Jin, guiding his hands as they kneaded the dough together, his chest pressed against Jin's back, the warmth of his body seeping into Jin's very bones.

"You're doing great, love," Jeongguk murmured into Jin's ear, his breath hot against Jin's neck, sending shivers down his spine.

Jin's hands moved clumsily in the dough, his usually steady fingers now trembling under Jeongguk's touch. He laughed, trying to ignore the way his heart raced whenever Jeongguk was near. "I think I'm making a mess of this," he said, his voice tinged with a mixture of embarrassment and amusement.

"Nonsense," Jeongguk replied, his voice a low, rumbling chuckle that vibrated through Jin's body. "You're doing perfectly. Besides, even if we end up with a loaf that looks like a rock, I'll still eat it because you made it."

Jin turned his head slightly, catching Jeongguk's gaze even though he couldn't see it. "You're ridiculous," he said, but there was no hiding the affection in his voice.

"And you love it," Jeongguk teased, his lips brushing against Jin's cheek in a fleeting kiss that left Jin blushing furiously.

Later that evening, as they sat in the dimly lit kitchen, the smell of freshly baked bread filling the air, Jeongguk tore off a piece of the slightly misshapen loaf and held it to Jin's lips. "Try it," he urged, his voice soft, almost reverent.

Jin took a bite, the taste of warm bread mingling with the lingering sweetness of Jeongguk's kiss on his cheek. "It's perfect," he said, though he wasn't sure if he was talking about the bread or the moment itself.

And in that shared bite, in the warmth of the kitchen and the quiet laughter that followed, they found a piece of themselves in each other, something that tasted sweeter than any bread could ever be.

---

*Week Three: The Tenderness of Intimacy*

The third week was marked by the deepening of their physical connection, not in the rush of passion, but in the gentle, unhurried intimacy that spoke of trust and burgeoning love. It was in the way Jeongguk would sit close to Jin, their shoulders brushing as they talked late into the night, their voices low, as if sharing secrets only meant for them.

One night, after a particularly long day in the studio, Jeongguk found Jin dozing off on the couch, his head resting on the armrest, his lips slightly parted in sleep. The sight was so endearing, so vulnerable, that Jeongguk felt his heart swell with a tenderness that was almost painful.

He knelt beside the couch, careful not to wake Jin, and brushed a stray lock of hair from his forehead. Jin stirred slightly but didn't wake, his breathing even and soft. Jeongguk leaned in closer, his lips hovering just above Jin's, the urge to kiss him almost overwhelming. But he held back, not wanting to steal a moment that should be given freely.

Instead, he pressed his lips to Jin's forehead, a gentle, lingering kiss that was a silent confession, a promise of the love that was growing within him. Jin sighed in his sleep, as though even in his dreams, he could feel Jeongguk's presence, his heart responding to the unspoken emotions that filled the room.

Jeongguk carefully lifted Jin into his arms, carrying him to bed, where he tucked him in with the utmost care. As he turned to leave, Jin's hand reached out, finding Jeongguk's in the dark.

"Stay," Jin murmured, his voice heavy with sleep but laced with a need that Jeongguk couldn't refuse.

Without a word, Jeongguk slid into bed beside him, pulling Jin close. Jin nuzzled into Jeongguk's chest, his body fitting perfectly against Jeongguk's as if they were made to be together.

"Goodnight, Jin-ah," Jeongguk whispered, his voice a breath against Jin's hair.

"Goodnight, Kook," Jin replied, his voice barely audible, but full of contentment.

And as they drifted off to sleep, wrapped in each other's warmth, the barriers between them fell away, leaving only the purity of their connection—a connection that was deepening with every shared breath, every beat of their hearts in unison.

---

*Week Four: A Family Interlude*

The final week before the statue-making was one of the most pivotal, as it brought not just Jeongguk and Jin closer, but also intertwined their lives with Jin's family. Jeongguk was welcomed with open arms. The family home was often filled with laughter and light, a stark contrast to the quiet life Jin had led before Jeongguk's arrival.

One Sunday afternoon, the four of them sat around the dining table, playing a board game that Jin's granny insisted was "family tradition." The game was a chaotic mix of strategy and luck, with Minhuk making outrageous moves that left everyone in stitches.

Jeongguk, who had never been particularly good at such games, found himself losing spectacularly, much to the amusement of Jin, who teased him mercilessly.

"Are you sure you're trying, Kook?" Jin laughed, his hand resting lightly on Jeongguk's arm, the touch sending a thrill through Jeongguk that had nothing to do with the game.

"I'm trying, I swear!" Jeongguk protested, though he couldn't help but smile at the way Jin's laughter lit up the room.

Jin's granny leaned over, patting Jeongguk on the shoulder. "Don't worry, dear. Jin's been unbeatable at this game since he was a child. It's not your fault."

Bong chuckled, "He has a knack for winning, just like me."

Jeongguk turned to Jin, his eyes filled with playful affection. "Well, I might not be able to beat you at this game, but there's something else I'm determined to win."

Jin raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Oh? And what's that?"

Jeongguk leaned in, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Your heart, Jin-ah. And I think I'm winning."

Jin's face turned a lovely shade of pink, his usually composed demeanor faltering under the weight of Jeongguk's words. He looked down, trying to hide his smile, but his granny caught it, her eyes twinkling with knowing.

"I'd say you're both winning," she said softly, her voice filled with the kind of wisdom that only years of love could bring

______

Back to next morning after statue making:—

Jeongguk sat on the bed, his phone in one hand, while the other gently caressed Jin's soft hair, his fingers weaving through the strands with a tenderness that spoke of the love he could never quite put into words. Jin, still half-asleep, whined softly as he tried to throw off the blanket that was cocooning them, his body seeking the warmth of Jeongguk's touch rather than the fabric. Jeongguk chuckled, a low, affectionate sound, and pulled the blanket back over their entwined bodies, the warmth of the sheets a fragile barrier against the world outside.

"Love, wake up," Jeongguk whispered, his voice a soft plea in the early morning hush. He shifted closer, pressing a kiss to Jin's temple, the gesture as much a comfort to himself as it was to the man beside him. "I need to share something with you."

Jin groaned in protest, his body still heavy with sleep, but Jeongguk's voice was a tether pulling him gently from the depths of his dreams. Reluctantly, he let Jeongguk guide him into a sitting position, his head resting on Jeongguk's shoulder as he fought to keep his eyes open.

After a slow, intimate shower that was more about the warmth of each other's presence than the need to cleanse, they dressed and made their way downstairs.

The familiar sound of Minhuk's laughter met them as they entered the living room, where the younger man was chatting animatedly with Granny. The sight filled Jeongguk with a strange sense of peace—this was the family they had built together, fragile but precious in its imperfection.

"Good morning, love birds," Minhuk teased, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he noticed their late appearance.Jin pouted, his lips forming a perfect, soft curve.

"Aren't you too small to tease us?" he retorted, his voice laced with playful indignation.Minhuk's grin widened as he stood up to his full height, which was almost equal to Jin's.

"Hyung, only if you could see—I'm your height, and I'm still growing. Soon I'll surpass you, shorty," Minhuk quipped, the words slipping out before he could stop them. Realizing his mistake, he froze, guilt flashing across his face.

But before the moment could become awkward, Jeongguk stepped forward, his hand finding Jin's, their fingers intertwining in a silent show of support. "No more teasing," Jeongguk interjected, his voice calm but firm. "I have something important to share with you all."

Minhuk's curiosity immediately overpowered his guilt, and he bounced on his feet, eager for whatever news Jeongguk had. "So, what is it, Kookkook hyung?"

Jeongguk smiled at Minhuk's enthusiasm, though his grip on Jin's hand tightened, a small gesture of reassurance. "I've been in touch with an ophthalmologist," he began, his voice steady despite the fluttering in his chest. "And he told me that they've found a donor for Jin."

For a moment, the room fell into a stunned silence. Jin's breath hitched, his heart racing in his chest as a mix of hope and fear tangled together in his mind. He had lived in darkness for so long that the prospect of light was both exhilarating and terrifying. Jeongguk felt the tremor in Jin's hand and responded by gently squeezing it, grounding him with his touch.

Minhuk was the first to break the silence, his voice cracking with joy. "W-what? Really? Oh my God, Jinie hyung could see now! Why didn't you tell us earlier?"

Granny's eyes filled with tears, her joy spilling over in the form of quiet sobs. "Our Jinie... our precious boy... Thank you, Jeongguk. Thank you for giving him this chance," she cried, her voice trembling with gratitude.

Jeongguk shook his head, his own eyes shining with unshed tears. "I didn't want to raise false hopes until I was sure," he explained softly, his gaze never leaving Jin's face. "But now that it's confirmed, we can take him to the hospital as soon as possible."

Minhuk's exuberance was infectious, and he grinned widely as he chimed in, "Yeah! Now we can all go stargazing together, Jinie hyung! I'll show you all the places I've been dreaming of showing you."

His words brought laughter to the room, but amidst the joy, there was a quiet tension, a fear that lingered in the corners of their hearts.

For Jin, the fear was particularly acute—the fear of hope, the fear that something might go wrong, the fear that even if he gained his sight, he might lose something even more precious.

As the days passed, Jeongguk handled the arrangements with meticulous care, making sure everything was perfect for the surgery. Granny, in her quiet devotion, spent hours at the church, praying fervently for Jin's recovery. Minhuk, meanwhile, couldn't stop talking about all the adventures he planned to take Jin on once his sight was restored, his excitement a constant source of comfort for everyone.

The surgery day arrived sooner than any of them were prepared for. The hospital room was cold, sterile, a stark contrast to the warmth of the life they had shared before. Jin lay on the hospital bed, his hand clutching Jeongguk's as the anesthesia began to take effect. He tried to memorize the feel of Jeongguk's skin against his, the sound of his voice, the love in his touch, afraid that the world might look different when he finally opened his eyes.

"Are you scared?" Jeongguk asked quietly, his thumb brushing over the back of Jin's hand in a soothing rhythm.Jin swallowed, his throat tight. "A little," he admitted, his voice small and vulnerable. "But I trust you, Kook. I trust that everything will be okay."

Jeongguk leaned down, pressing his forehead against Jin's. "I'll be here when you wake up, love. I promise. You won't be alone."

Jin smiled, his eyelids growing heavy. "I know," he whispered, his voice fading as he slipped into unconsciousness.The surgery was a success, the doctors told them, but Jin would need a few more days of rest before the bandages could be removed. During those days, Jeongguk rarely left his side, his presence a constant reassurance for Jin, who lay in darkness, counting the hours until he could finally see the world again.

But for Jin, the world he most wanted to see wasn't made of landscapes or starlit skies—it was Jeongguk. He dreamt of the moment he would finally lay eyes on the man he loved, the man who had been his light in the darkness. He imagined Jeongguk's face, the curve of his lips, the warmth of his smile, the way his eyes would crinkle when he laughed. More than anything, he wanted to see Jeongguk's face and burn the image into his heart forever.

The day finally came. The bandages were scheduled to be removed that evening, and Jin spent the hours leading up to it in a state of restless anticipation. Jeongguk sat beside him, reading softly from a book, his voice a calm, steady anchor in the storm of emotions that swirled within Jin.

But then, the calm was shattered by the shrill ring of Jeongguk's phone. The sudden sound startled Jin, who whined in protest, his peaceful rest disrupted. Jeongguk chuckled softly, pressing a quick kiss to Jin's cheek.

"Sorry, love... I'll take it outside, okay?" Jeongguk apologized, his voice low and soothing.Jin hummed in response, still half-asleep.

"I love you, Kook," he murmured, his words heavy with the love he carried for the man who had become his everything.

Jeongguk's heart swelled with affection as he leaned in, brushing his lips against Jin's one last time before stepping out. "I love you too," he whispered, the words a promise as he walked out of the room.

But the moment Jeongguk answered the call, the world tilted on its axis. Minhuk's voice, usually so full of life, was trembling, broken by fear.

"H-hyung... t-they took Granny..." Minhuk's voice cracked, each word like a shard of glass piercing through the fragile peace Jeongguk had tried so hard to maintain.

"Bong? What happened?" Jeongguk's voice was sharp, panic lacing through every syllable.

"K-kai... he took her, hyung... p-please, save her..." Minhuk's words were disjointed, the fear in his voice palpable.

Jeongguk's heart pounded in his chest, his mind racing as he tried to piece together what was happening. "Where are you, Bong? Are you okay?"

"I'll be f-fine... p-please don't be late... h-he took her to the b-bridge... p-please..."

The line went dead, leaving Jeongguk standing there, his hand frozen around the phone, his breath caught in his throat.

The panic in Minhuk's voice lingered in his ears, setting his nerves on edge. His fingers tightened around the phone, the cold metal of the device grounding him in a reality that was quickly slipping out of his control."Minhuk? Bongk, are you there?" His voice trembled, desperate for a response, but only silence greeted him. A silence that weighed heavy, ominous.

His heart pounded in his chest, a relentless drumbeat of fear and urgency. Without wasting another moment, Jeongguk bolted from the hospital room. His feet moved before his mind could catch up, instinctively racing to where he was needed most. The echo of his footsteps reverberated down the sterile, cold corridors, a stark contrast to the warmth he had shared with Jin just moments ago.

Bursting out into the daylight, he squinted against the harsh sun, momentarily blinded. But he couldn't afford to hesitate. The world around him blurred as he focused solely on getting to Minhuk and Granny. They were his family now—more than just Jin's loved ones, they had become his own.

Mounting his motorbike, Jeongguk's hands shook as he fumbled with the keys. Finally, the engine roared to life, its familiar sound doing little to ease the dread that gnawed at him. He raced down the streets, weaving through traffic with reckless abandon, the wind tearing at his hair and clothes as if trying to hold him back.

He replayed Minhuk's words in his mind, trying to piece together the fragments of the boy's terror-stricken plea. Kai... The name burned in his mind, fueling his anger, his fear. That man had already caused so much pain, and now he was threatening to take away everything Jeongguk had come to cherish.

As he sped through the city, Jeongguk's mind flickered with memories—Minhuk's wide-eyed curiosity, Granny's warm laughter, Jin's gentle touch. All of it, hanging by a thread, a thread that Kai seemed intent on severing.

By the time he reached the bridge, Jeongguk's body was tense with adrenaline. The sight that greeted him sent a jolt of horror through his veins. Kai was there, lounging on the hood of a jeep like a predator waiting to pounce, surrounded by his lackeys.

He felt something wet drop on his face, he raised his hand to touch it but when he brought his fingers back in front of his eyes, he saw red liquid, blood.

He immediately looked up and above them, swinging grotesquely from a crane, was Granny—her lifeless body a grotesque marionette, blood trickling down like a macabre curtain.

"No..." Jeongguk's voice was a broken whisper, the sight before him too surreal to fully process. But there was no time to mourn, no time to let the grief take hold. He had to act.

He stormed forward, fury blazing in his eyes. Kai noticed him, a cruel smile spreading across his face. "Well, well, look who finally decided to show up," he sneered.

"What have you done?" Jeongguk's voice was low, dangerous, but underneath, there was a raw, desperate edge. He was barely holding it together.

"Oh, just a little payback," Kai said casually, as if discussing the weather. "Jin was supposed to be mine. But you—you had to play the hero, didn't you?"

Jeongguk's hands balled into fists at his sides. "You're sick," he spat, stepping closer. "This isn't about Jin. It's about you being a coward who can't handle rejection."

Kai's smile faltered for a moment, but he quickly regained his composure. "Maybe. But that doesn't change the fact that I always get what I want. And right now, I want you gone."

Jeongguk saw red. The world around him seemed to blur, his focus narrowing to the man in front of him. Without thinking, he lunged at Kai, landing a punch squarely on his jaw. The force of it sent Kai stumbling back, but he quickly recovered, wiping a trickle of blood from his lip with a twisted grin.

"Big mistake, pretty boy," Kai growled, signaling his men to step back. "Let's see how tough you really are."

The fight that ensued was brutal. Jeongguk and Kai exchanged blows with a ferocity fueled by rage and desperation. The air was thick with the sound of fists connecting with flesh, grunts of pain, and the sickening crunch of bone against bone. Jeongguk fought with everything he had, but Kai was relentless, driven by a twisted sense of vengeance.

At one point, Kai managed to land a brutal punch to Jeongguk's abdomen, sending him reeling back, gasping for breath. But Jeongguk refused to back down. He couldn't afford to. For Jin, for Minhuk, for Granny's memory—he had to win.

Just as Kai moved in for another strike, Jeongguk caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of his eye. The jeep's engine had roared to life, and it was slowly inching towards the edge of the bridge. Panic flared in Kai's eyes as he realized what was happening.

"Oh God, we're going to die!" Kai's voice cracked with fear as he scrambled towards the driver's seat, but it was too late. The car was already teetering on the edge.

In a last-ditch effort, Kai grabbed Jeongguk, trying to drag him down with him. The two men grappled, but the momentum was against them. Jeongguk's heart pounded in his chest, the weight of his love for Jin anchoring him to the earth, but the reality of the situation was inescapable.

As the car lurched forward, Jeongguk felt the ground disappear beneath his feet. For a split second, everything seemed to slow down. The roar of the wind, the distant screams, even the sickening drop of his stomach—all of it faded into the background as his mind was filled with one singular thought: Jin.

The car plunged off the bridge, hurtling towards the valley below. Kai's grip tightened in a final, desperate act of terror, but Jeongguk no longer cared. His thoughts were with Jin, the man he had come to love more than life itself. The man he would never see again.

"I love you, Jin-ah!" The words tore from his throat as the world around him erupted into chaos. The car collided with the ground, the impact shattering the world into a cacophony of fire and steel. Jeongguk's last conscious thought was of Jin's face, the smile he had come to cherish, before everything went dark.

They fell into the valley, the car crashing and burning into ashes, burning the rivalry between the who felt the burn in each tissue of their body.

Back at the hospital, Jin stirred in his sleep, a peaceful expression on his face. In his dreams, he saw Jeongguk's face, clear and vibrant, the image etched into his mind. He smiled, reaching out as if to touch him, unaware that the person he was reaching for was already gone, lost to the darkness that had claimed him.

Jin's eyes would soon be able to see the world again, but the world he would wake up to would be forever changed. The man who had filled his heart with love and his life with color was gone, leaving behind only memories and the echo of a love that would never fade.

★✰✯✩✩★✰✯☆✩★✰✯✩✩★✯✯✩✵★

A/N :- Amen (😂😂😂) now don't kill me guys

Hope you guys like this!! Anyone needs tissues in advance cuz next part will most likely make y'all shed tears. So anyone??

Happy ending or not ??

then vote!!

Date- 25'th Aug 2024

words count - - 8.2K approx.