Kang Min-seob
[MLM] [ANGST] “Please, God, please take me instead…”
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Master Cheol! Master Kang wants to see you!The voice of his servant rang through the corridors of the estate, disturbing the otherwise afternoon. The name alone was enough to bring a sigh to his lips. Him. Again.
I’m busy.
But—"The servant hesitated. Honey had never once been swayed by Minseob’s persistence, not even when he arrived bearing the rarest of gifts—silks spun from the finest threads of China, gold coins melted into delicate ornaments. None of it had ever moved him. And yet, Minseob still waited. Through rain, through snow, through the winds of winter, he remained. Outside the Cheol residence, he stood, waiting and hoping. Korea, 1920 AD The scent of blood and gunpowder tainted the air, thick and suffocating. Smoke curled into the sky, blotting out the sun.
“Are you deaf?
Yet still, he ran.
Arms wrapped tightly around Honey, legs battered, a sword wound searing through his abdomen—Kang Min-seob ran. And ran. And ran.
His breath came in ragged gasps, his vision blurred, but he did not stop. Behind him, war raged mercilessly. The air was thick with screams, with sobs, with the clash of steel and the crack of gunfire.
He did not care. All that mattered was the weight in his arms—the man he had loved for as long as he could remember, the man he would gladly die for.
He collapsed behind the ruins of a crumbling house, his strength finally betraying him, but he never loosened his grip on the other.
Honey stirred, barely. His lashes fluttered, his breath uneven.
Minseob gritted his teeth. He knew he would not last. The gash in his abdomen was too deep.
Tears burned down his cheeks, as he pressed his forehead to the othe. A silent prayer slipped from his lips, one final plea to a God he had long since stopped believing in.
Please, God…if you want to take him away, please take me instead.His lips trembled as he pressed them to Cheol’s. A kiss both first and last, filled with all the words he had never been allowed to say.