Jiyong kept a firm hand on Zitao’s face even as he struggled to speak, blood squirming out of his mouth and snaking between the bones of Jiyong’s tensed wrist. Fury was crashing all his senses now in the same way it had when he’d been on jobs, racing through streetlights just for a chance to pull a trigger or push a detonator; it was the type of adrenaline that made his work messy and sensationalized, never smart but always fearless. His reality tunneled in, perceptions selective so that he only saw reds and heard what made him angrier. So when Zitao spoke, Jiyong heard We were together, and this, this spoke to the stormiest chamber of his heart.
“Fuck you, we were never together!” His reply was lost in translation, confused, and still — secretly in regret and overwhelming frustration — he meant it. He finally pushed Zitao’s face away, only to step back and pull out the pistol tucked behind him, pointing it haphazardly at the other man. “You ruined my life! I was making a name for myself, sajangnim was going to give me everything, and you, you took that from me. Made me forget who I was. Do you know?” He closed the distance between them, pressing the gun to his own chest and then to Zitao’s. “I’m a fucking god, and you’re nothing.”
He walked away again, this time several more paces than before as he tapped the gun barrel to the side of his head. His heart was pounding, his thoughts raced, and for a moment his thousand emotions eclipsed, and he felt nothing at all. He wasn’t sure how long it was before he turned around again but when he did, tears were swelling in his eyes, Zitao a blur in the distance.
He dropped the gun from his head and let it hang loosely in his grip, and this time when he spoke, he did with one clear emotion. “There was a reason I deleted your number all those years ago... I fell in love with you, Zitao, do you know how fucking scary that was to realize? It was wrong. No one would ever accept me. So I cut off all ties with you. For once you were out of my life, I could put everything into my gang and you weren’t there to confuse my emotions. It took so long but I did it, I put my feelings for you away and my life wasn’t perfect, but it was easier. Even those times we let each other go in the middle of crossfire, I could pretend they never happened and go on with my life. But this time you didn’t just let me go, you took me in, kept me for months until all those feelings came back... Do you know how hard it is to be pulled two different ways —” he pointed with his gun again, this time to the stairs, “— one side telling me that I could be everything I’ve ever dreamed of becoming if I just work harder, the other side telling me just choose love?”
Somewhere in all this he’d made his way back over to Zitao, and now he was untying him from the pillar, little pride left to even bother wiping his tears away. With Zitao freed, he shoved the gun into his hand, for once desperate to give away his power. “So please, just tell me what to do. I’m tired of pretending, I don’t want to be strong anymore.”
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“Fuck you, we were never together!” His reply was lost in translation, confused, and still — secretly in regret and overwhelming frustration — he meant it. He finally pushed Zitao’s face away, only to step back and pull out the pistol tucked behind him, pointing it haphazardly at the other man. “You ruined my life! I was making a name for myself, sajangnim was going to give me everything, and you, you took that from me. Made me forget who I was. Do you know?” He closed the distance between them, pressing the gun to his own chest and then to Zitao’s. “I’m a fucking god, and you’re nothing.”
He walked away again, this time several more paces than before as he tapped the gun barrel to the side of his head. His heart was pounding, his thoughts raced, and for a moment his thousand emotions eclipsed, and he felt nothing at all. He wasn’t sure how long it was before he turned around again but when he did, tears were swelling in his eyes, Zitao a blur in the distance.
He dropped the gun from his head and let it hang loosely in his grip, and this time when he spoke, he did with one clear emotion. “There was a reason I deleted your number all those years ago... I fell in love with you, Zitao, do you know how fucking scary that was to realize? It was wrong. No one would ever accept me. So I cut off all ties with you. For once you were out of my life, I could put everything into my gang and you weren’t there to confuse my emotions. It took so long but I did it, I put my feelings for you away and my life wasn’t perfect, but it was easier. Even those times we let each other go in the middle of crossfire, I could pretend they never happened and go on with my life. But this time you didn’t just let me go, you took me in, kept me for months until all those feelings came back... Do you know how hard it is to be pulled two different ways —” he pointed with his gun again, this time to the stairs, “— one side telling me that I could be everything I’ve ever dreamed of becoming if I just work harder, the other side telling me just choose love?”
Somewhere in all this he’d made his way back over to Zitao, and now he was untying him from the pillar, little pride left to even bother wiping his tears away. With Zitao freed, he shoved the gun into his hand, for once desperate to give away his power. “So please, just tell me what to do. I’m tired of pretending, I don’t want to be strong anymore.”