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Pinky Promise [Optional Bias Scenario] 

To Be Honest, I didn’t like this scenario when I re-read it, but I spent so much time… so I’ll publish it. Tell me how you like it? Like/Reblog/Comment. And enjoy. (Plus, welcome my beautiful new followers! I love you!)


He came home. Drunk. Again. Angry. Again. 

How many times has it been this week? Every day. 

He threw open the front door, letting it hit the wall with a fearsome slam. You were sitting on the bed, hands around your knees, contemplating your relationship and his bipolar emotions. He wouldn’t tell you what was wrong, no matter how many times you asked, pleading. 

Crashes made you leap out of bed and open the bedroom door. You peered out and witness him throw his bags on the floor and punch the sofa, multiple times. 

You crept out, and watched, in complete fear as he began throwing pillows, chairs, anything he could get his hands on. He even threw his phone across the room. He reminded you of that bastard. Him. Your ex-boyfriend. Your abuser. Your ex had come home drunk every day and beat you. And you had thought it was love. THe same wild fear was settling in your heart now. You trembled. 

____ is NOT him .Is. Not. Come one. He won’t hurt you. Go. Be brave. Go. 

You cautiously round the corner, right as a shard of glass narrowly missed your face and implanted itself in the wall. You froze. He looked at you with such livid emotion, you began shaking. That anger, that hurt, that pain, that utter fury that could light up hell, it was all there. 

"What are you doing right now!?" He screamed at you. You opened your mouth wordlessly. 

"Am I supposed to be doing something right now?" You asked tentatively.

He screamed at you again. ” GODDAMMIT! We’re supposed to go see the CEO right now!”

You hit your head lightly. That date completely went over your head. You had forgotten.

"But… you can’t go out—"

"YES. Yes. I can. Don’t tell me what to do. Don’t goddamn tell me what to do. DON’T!"

 You shrunk back. The alcohol he drank was obviously getting to him. You backed away, soon running into your room to change. 

You emerged, putting on makeup and clothing faster than you had ever in your entire existence.

"Slut." One word as he looked at you. Your eyes widened in shock.


"You heard me. What are you goddamn wearing? Is that all you buy? Clothing that cover up nothing? You’re disgusting." He degraded you, word by word. You looked carefully at your outfit. The back stooped a little low, but everything didn’t seem bad. It barely stopped at the knees, and your chest area was pretty well covered. 

"Just stop. STOP ALREADY." You shouted at him, finally mustering enough courage. "Why are you being this way? Why are you coming home drunk each day? What the hell is wrong with you?"

He looked at you with disbelief. “I’m coming home each day like THIS because I have so many expectations. Everyone expects me to do something. Dance? Sing? Make money? And I come home, to you. Dressed like that.” He motioned at your outfit. “Who can’t even remember a damned date. Now, what’s wrong with YOU!?!” He grabbed your arms forcefully, his hands squeezing them painfully. You yelped and struggled to loosen his grip. It was like a replay, all over again. Eyes beginning to water, you squirmed and struggled until he finally threw you against a wall. The edge of the wall hit your spin with a small crack and you gasped out in pain. He missed that soft escape of air from your mouth as he continued to rant at you.

You watched, as painful tears rolled down your cheeks. He suddenly tore a necklace off his neck and flung it at you in his drunken stupor. You flinched as it hit  your face and bounced off, landing with a clatter. 

"I’m leaving." He spat at you. You stumbled over to him and grabbed his arm. 

"Don’t. Where are you going like this, boo? You can’t go anywhere like this! The paparazzi will get you, your fans will get you, your CEO will—-"

"DON’T TELL ME WHAT TO DO. DON’T. TOUCH. ME." He didn’t even look at you as he ripped your gentle grip off of him and pushed you violently. You wheeled backwards and as you fell, the right side of your head hit the table, sending shockwaves of pure pain through you. You crashed to the ground, and your two arms automatically cradled your throbbing head. You curled up in a fetal position and the throbbing suddenly made you want to close your eyes, despite the circumstances. You obliged, wanting everything to stop and end. 

He was already halfway out the door before he realized his cellphone was still in this mess of a house. He sighed in frustration. His drunk state had dissolved into one of just quiet irritation. He didn’t want to meet your eyes, but as he walked in, he couldn’t sense your standing presence. He slightly raised his eyes and looked around. He suddenly straightened up. Where were you?

His eyes scanned the room, looking for you. Landing on your motionless body by the table, he froze. What did he do to you? You were visibly quivering, though your eyes were squeezed firmly shut. Your arms were around your head, holding it as if it hurt. 

"Jagi…" He whispered, dropping the last bits of fury.

You heard him walk towards you and your eyes flew open in fear. 

"Don’t come closer." You whispered as you made yourself crawl under the table. His eyes flickered, shocked at the panic in your eyes. Those eyes… it was the same expression that stared at him when he found you huddled in a corner on that rainy day. Your cheeks were cut up, and you had been dirty. But those eyes… he would never forget. And he had promised never to let them appear again. But he broke that vow. Because there you were, shaking under that table because he had hurt you. 

He raised his hands up, in an attempt to look gentle, but by the cornered look in your eyes, it didn’t work.

"I’m not him. I am NOT him” He quietly chanted at you, trying to dig the idea deep in your head.

You shuddered at the mere thought and continued to back away until your back hit the end of the table. You winced, as your bruising back made contact with the hard wood.

He slowly knelt down, and crawled under the table to you. You began to tremble crazily now as he got closer. He reached out to touch you but you dodged the gentle touch and stared at him with the eyes of a hurt child. 

"Jagi…" He whispered, inching closer. 

"Don’t touch me!" You cried out in fear. His face blurred with the face of your ex. You clutched the edge of the table, nails digging in.

His face contorted in pain at your fear of him. “I’m sorry, baby.” He whispered, inching yet even closer. “I’m sorry. Baby. It’s me. Me.” He smiled his signature smile, though it wavered at the corners. “Me.” He pointed at his face. “Me.”

Your stance wouldn’t relax. This man, he hurt you. He hurt you. Danger. Danger. Your brain shouted at you.

He was helpless. Any movement would push you even more over the edge. So he began singing. “I love you, love you, love you. Don’t leave me, baby. I can’t breathe without you, I can’t smile without you, baby, baby. My love, my love, come back to me….” His voice cracked countless times in the middle, but he persevered.
His voice, the lyrics… it rang a bell in your head. As he watched you loosen up slowly, he continued to sing, eyes staring deeply into your own teary ones. The fear was subsiding. “Baby, don’t leave me. I did you wrong. Baby, come back and love me again. Don’t leave me alone.. baby. I love you, love you, love you.” 

His arms reached out and quickly pulled you into his embrace. You fought back like a mad animal, but his hard chest, his strong and gentle arms, you suddenly felt at home. Suddenly comforted. 

Warm tears hit your face as you looked up. He was crying. “Baby, what did I do to you? My darling, my jagi, my sunshine.” He unconsciously began rocking you back and forth like a mother to a child. 

He unknowningly touched your back and you yelped in pain. His shocked eyes glanced at your back and realized a ragged bruise was etched in your skin. 

"Did… did I do that?" He asked, almost inaudible. You merely stared back at him, eyes unreadable. He tried to breathe normally, but seeing what he inflicted on you, he couldn’t. Guilt filled his eyes, as more tears fell. 

He looked at you in his lap, like a child. Your teary eyes looked back, reflecting his own image, your mouth slightly parted in an “O”. He brushed strands of hair away from your face as he continued to cry. He didn’t understand how he could hurt someone as fragile and precious as you, even in a drunken state. He hated himself. Abhorred himself. 

"Stop crying." You said, voice soft.  

"I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I.. I became the monster I promised I would never become. Jagiyah, I’m so sorry. Jagi. Jagi. Oh my darling." He kept muttering into your soft hair. "I hurt you. I hurt you like how he hurt you. I… don’t deserve to live anymore." He suddenly pushed your shoulders back and his dark eyes gazed into yours. "Tell me I deserve to die. Tell me I don’t deserve you. Tell me I should just jump out the window right now. Tell me, and I’ll do it. Anything." 

You looked at him silently. He buried his head into the nape of your neck, and you felt warm tears continuously flowing down your skin. “Tell me what I should do.” He begged huskily. “I’d rather die than have you remember your past. Jagi..” His head suddenly rose up and he took your wrists and began hitting himself. “Hit me. Hurt me. I want you to hurt me as much as I hurt you. Please. Jagi. Do something.” You pulled your wrists away and stuck them in between your legs. “Should I hurt myself then? I… the pain… give me all the pain I gave you…. jagi. Jagiyah..” 

You situated yourself in a more comfortable position on his lap, and settled your head on his chest, listening to the beating of his heart. 


"Stay with me." 

"What?" His heart beat increased a little. You snuggled a little closer. 

"Just stay. And promise you won’t drink again. And call me a slut." You frowned, but hugged him closer to you, trying to take as much warmth as possible. His arms hugged you back fiercely. 

"I’m a pabo. I’m stupid. You are beautiful, my darling. Prettier than any idol, and so well dressed. Never would you ever be a slut. I’m an idiot. And I promise. I’ll swear on my life this time. The next time I drink, I’ll go jump into the Han River."

You grabbed his large hands and cupped them to your face as you looked up.

"You are my sunshine that chases away rain clouds. Don’t leave me, or else I’ll really remember the dark pain."  

He rubbed circles with his thumb on your cheeks. “As long as you want me here, I’ll be here for you, forever.” 

"Pinky promise?"

"Pinky promise." He finally let out a small smile as your fingers linked together. He gently kissed your forehead and you let your eyes slowly close, a smile playing on your lips as well. 

"I’m sorry. And I love you." He whispered. 

"I love you too."

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