The storm outside howled, but inside the house, silence reigned. A silence thick with memories, with unsaid words, with wounds carved by a tongue too sharp, a temper too wild.
Eunha sat by the window, her fingers tracing invisible scars on her wristโnot of blade or bruise, but of words. ๐๐๐๐ฟ๐ ๐ฉ๐๐๐ฉ ๐๐๐ ๐๐ช๐ฉ ๐๐๐๐ฅ๐๐ง ๐ฉ๐๐๐ฃ ๐๐ฃ๐ฎ ๐ ๐ฃ๐๐๐.
"๐๐ค๐ช'๐ง๐ ๐๐จ๐๐ก๐๐จ๐จ."
"๐๐๐ฎ ๐๐ง๐ ๐ฎ๐ค๐ช ๐๐ซ๐๐ฃ ๐๐๐ง๐?"
"๐๐ค๐, ๐๐ค๐ช ๐ง๐ช๐๐ฃ ๐๐ซ๐๐ง๐ฎ๐ฉ๐๐๐ฃ๐."
"๐๐ค๐ช'๐ง๐ ๐ฃ๐ค๐ฉ ๐จ๐๐จ๐ฉ๐๐ง."
That last one. That was the one that never faded, the one that echoed in the hollow of her chest every time she looked at him.
Jisoo. Her brother. Her tormentor. Her ghost.
She had forgiven him, long ago. Not for him, but for herself. But forgetting? That was impossible.
She heard his footsteps before she saw him, hesitant and slow, like a man walking through a graveyard of his own sins.
"Eunha," he said, his voice softer than she remembered.
She turned, meeting his gaze. He looked older, wearier. Maybe guilt had a way of carving lines into a personโs face.
"I was a ๐๐ค๐ฃ๐จ๐ฉ๐๐ง to you," he admitted, his voice unsteady. "I let my angerโmy own demonsโturn me into something I never wanted to be. And I know I donโt deserve anything from you, butโฆ"
He swallowed hard. "Do you still hate me?"
Eunha exhaled slowly. Hate? No. That had never been the right word.
"I donโt hate you, Jisoo," she said. "I justโฆ donโt know how to forget."
His hands clenched at his sides. "Tell me what to do," he pleaded. "Tell me how to fix it."
She smiledโsmall, sad. "๐๐ค๐ข๐ ๐ฌ๐ค๐ช๐ฃ๐๐จ ๐๐ค๐ฃ'๐ฉ ๐๐๐๐ก, ๐
๐๐จ๐ค๐ค. ๐๐๐๐ฎ ๐๐ช๐จ๐ฉ ๐๐๐๐ค๐ข๐ ๐ ๐ฅ๐๐ง๐ฉ ๐ค๐ ๐ฌ๐๐ค ๐ฌ๐ ๐๐ง๐."
For a long moment, he didnโt speak. And then, finally, he nodded.
"I wonโt ask you to forget," he whispered. "But Iโll spend the rest of my life proving I can be better."
She looked at him, at the brother she had loved, at the boy who had once been her safe place before he became her storm.
Maybe, just maybe, they could find their way back. Not by erasing the past, but by building something stronger in its wake.
Because wounds of words never heal. But perhaps, just perhaps, love could soften the ache.
โโโโโโโโโโโพ๏ธโ
โฝ๏ธโโโโโโโโโโ
๐ผ๐ฃ๐ ๐๐ ๐๐ค๐ช'๐ง๐ ๐ง๐๐๐๐๐ฃ๐ ๐ฉ๐๐๐จ, ๐ฅ๐ง๐ค๐๐๐๐ก๐ฎ ๐๐ฃ ๐ฎ๐ค๐ช๐ง ๐๐๐จ๐, ๐ฉ๐๐๐ฉ ๐ฅ๐๐ง๐จ๐ค๐ฃ ๐ฌ๐๐จ ๐จ๐ค๐ข๐๐ค๐ฃ๐ ๐๐ก๐จ๐ (๐ป๐ผ๐ ๐ฏ๐ฟ๐ผ๐๐ต๐ฒ๐ฟ) ๐๐ช๐ฉ ๐๐ฃ๐ค๐ฌ ๐ฉ๐๐๐ฉ ๐๐ค๐ฉ ๐๐ซ๐๐ง๐ฎ๐ค๐ฃ๐ง๐ ๐๐จ ๐ก๐ช๐๐ ๐ฎ ๐๐ฃ๐ค๐ช๐๐ ๐ฉ๐ค ๐ง๐๐๐๐๐ซ๐ ๐๐ฃ ๐๐ฅ๐ค๐ก๐ค๐๐ฎ ๐ค๐ง ๐ฌ๐๐ฉ๐ฃ๐๐จ๐จ ๐๐๐๐ฃ๐๐. ๐๐ค๐ข๐ ๐ฃ๐๐ซ๐๐ง ๐๐๐๐ง ๐ฉ๐๐ ๐ฌ๐ค๐ง๐๐จ ๐ฉ๐๐๐ฎ ๐ก๐ค๐ฃ๐ ๐๐ค๐ง. ๐ฝ๐ช๐ฉ ๐๐ค๐ฃ'๐ฉ ๐ก๐๐ฉ ๐ฉ๐๐๐๐ง ๐๐ง๐ง๐๐ฃ๐จ๐ฅ๐ค๐จ๐๐๐๐ก๐๐ฉ๐ฎ ๐๐ค๐ฃ๐จ๐ช๐ข๐ ๐ฎ๐ค๐ช. ๐ฟ๐ค๐ฃ'๐ฉ ๐ก๐๐ฉ ๐ฉ๐๐๐๐ง ๐๐ง๐ช๐๐ก๐๐ฉ๐ฎ ๐ข๐๐ ๐ ๐ฎ๐ค๐ช ๐๐๐ฉ๐ ๐ฎ๐ค๐ช๐ง๐จ๐๐ก๐. ๐๐ง๐๐ ๐ฎ๐ค๐ช๐ง ๐๐๐๐ง๐ฉ, ๐๐ซ๐๐ฃ ๐๐ ๐๐ฉ'๐จ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ช๐ก๐ฉ. ๐ฝ๐๐๐๐ช๐จ๐ ๐๐ฉ ๐ฉ๐๐ ๐๐ฃ๐ ๐ค๐ ๐ฉ๐๐ ๐๐๐ฎ, ๐ฅ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐จ ๐จ๐ค๐ข๐๐ฉ๐๐๐ฃ๐ ๐ฎ๐ค๐ช ๐๐๐ซ๐ ๐ฉ๐ค ๐ฎ๐ค๐ช๐ง๐จ๐๐ก๐.
