Jinhyu walked slowly into the quiet room and in the center of the room, bound to a wooden chair, sat Hannah—her head hanging low, her wings folded tight against her back and tied down like a bird kept from the sky, her arms strapped to the armrests and her body unnaturally still, as if even breathing had become too heavy.
He stepped closer as his eyes darted around, Seojun can't be seen, but the room was empty, just him and her, and something about it felt wrong.
"…Hannah?" he called out, his voice barely above a whisper,
She moved slightly, just her head, and then came a soft voice that trembled with pain and fear.
"…It hurts."
Jinhyu froze where he stood, his heart pounding harder now, because that voice—it was hers, it sounded like Hannah, the way she did when she was tired, when she was scared, when she needed someone to stay.
