yeonjun' yeongyu

The day before, Yeonjun and Beomgyu had a massive fight—so intense that nothing like it had ever happened before. The last thing Yeonjun saw before slamming the door was Beomgyu's eyes, glassy and bottomless. Beomgyu had said something cruel to him.

"Yeah, go to hell! Just get out!"

As for the younger one, he saw Yeonjun respond harshly and slam the door. The elder left for work. Five hours passed. The sky was weeping. While at work, Yeonjun was nervous and cold, still fuming at Beomgyu. A bone-chilling autumn rain shrouded the neighborhood in fog. Yeonjun was reluctantly heading home, though deep down, he missed him. Every drop trickling down his collar felt like a harbinger of something inevitable, terrible, and frightening.
He had almost reached the house. And what was Beomgyu doing? He was angry. He had been angry and crying the whole time, smashing everything he could get his hands on. The click of the front door echoed.