"You promised!"

Yura keeps on throwing her fists at his chest, Jeongguk looking down at her, not doing anything as he allows the girl to let her resentment out on him.

He watches her face change to hurt and anger, and it only serves to bring his own numbness to a higher boil, even though he's highly affected by her.

"You said that you would never treat me like them!" She keeps on fighting him, her chocolate eyes brimming with tears.

But she doesn't allow herself to cry. She shed too many tears over the same, repetitive lies.

Suddenly, Jeongguk takes a firm hold on her two wrists, holding them up as he stares down at her with hard eyes.

These angry eyes are his shield and sword, they are the gathering of clouds for a rainfall he doesn't want her to ever witness.

Maybe one day he'll let her see that torrent, the release that feels like a downfall. But first, he'd have to let her in, and he's too haunted to open up again.

"Enough," he declares lowly.

The argument is cold. Every word over pronounced, slicing rather than tumbling through the dry air.

His stare is as cold as the North Pole and has the same effect on Yura's breathing, constricted and shallow.

There's no life behind those eyes. Every move he makes betray his actual intentions and none of them are noble.

Their voices shut down and create a sacred silence while both of them stare at each other, only a small gap between them, causing Yura to shiver as she feels his warm breath on her skin.

Their own hidden boxes open, sending each contact of their eyes full speed ahead to shatter their souls into a million pieces.

Blood is bound to be spilled, feelings hurt. They were never that strong to begin with, and now they'll never be as strong as they once were.

The love didn't leave, it has been distorted into a close mimic of hatred, pain, and just as love endures, so would the wall of bitterness that separates them, growing more thorns with every passing second.