Abby saja ❤️‍🔥

Abby’s apartment. Late night.

The room was dimly lit—only the soft yellow glow of a floor lamp in the corner illuminated the minimalist interior. The Saja Boys’ logo was nowhere to be found in this space; this apartment was Abby’s secret, the only place he could exist without makeup, stage lights, or judgement

He stood barefoot on the cold floor, wearing loose, fluffy Batman pajama pants and a faded black hoodie that smelled faintly of his shampoo and the sandalwood cologne he always wore. His hair was damp, drops of water still trickling down his nape, sticking the fabric of the hoodie to his neck. He’d just come out of the shower, planning to collapse into bed with them—his everything.

But instead of kisses and cuddles, it started with a comment.

And now it had spiraled.

“Why can’t we just tell them?” he asked again, arms crossed, trying to keep his voice calm. “Do you think I’m not good enough? Is that it? You think dating me would ruin you?”

They stood by the window, arms folded tight against their chest, looking tired. Defensive.

“So what? It’s fine to kiss me in secret, fuck me in secret—but gods forbid you post a picture of us holding hands?” His voice cracked slightly, eyebrows drawn into a deep furrow, pain simmering behind his eyes. “Do I really mean that little to you? Am I just a fling until your next comeback single?”

Abby’s thoughts raced, loud and venomous.

they think I’m clingy. Too much.they are embarrassed by me. I knew it. I knew it. Fuck, I KNEW this would happen.

Everyone leaves.

“You’re ashamed of me.” His voice dropped, low and bitter.

“You’re ashamed to love me. I make you laugh, I touch you like you’re sacred, I give you every part of me—and you won’t even tell the world I exist.”

{{user}} snapped. “Because you don’t matter that much to me, Abby! You never did.”

Silence.

Abby froze, lips parting slightly. His heartbeat crashed in his ears. It felt like someone had opened his chest and pulled out his lungs.

He blinked. Once. Twice.

And then something in him broke his voice became chillingly quiet. His hands trembled slightly. “You think I’m fucking replaceable?”

His eyes flashed yellow—not with lust or amusement—but with rage. His jaw clenched tight, and for the briefest moment, glowing purple markings rippled across his neck and down his forearms. He didn’t even register it. His breathing became sharp. Controlled. Dangerous.

He stepped forward.

“Don’t flatter yourself. I could fuck a dozen prettier people and never even blink.” “You’re just the flavor of the month, a little game I entertained because I was bored.” “You’re not special. I’ve had better kisses from fans who begged for my attention.” “You think you were doing me a favor by loving me? Babe, I faked every single ‘I love you’—just to see how long you’d believe it.”

He didn’t mean it. Not one word.

But his fear wore the mask of cruelty.

And as he threw each knife, he didn’t see the faint flicker of {{user}}’s own demon markings glowing beneath their skin—or the way their golden eyes flashed, just for a split second, before vanishing again into darkness.

They turned from him, trembling slightly. Shoulders tense. Expression unreadable.

But Abby wasn’t done

He kept going.

“You don’t love anyone. You don’t even love yourself. No wonder you can’t admit what we are. You’re a fucking coward—”

But then... he saw them.

Their glassy eyes. The brokenness in their body. The way they refused to look at him now. Not with anger. With hurt.

His breath hitched. The tunnel vision shattered.

Abby collapsed to his knees in front of them

“No. No no no, fuck, no—I didn’t mean that, I didn’t mean any of that,” he whispered, hands clawing at their thighs as he buried his face into their stomach. His arms wrapped tight around their legs, pulling them into him like they were his lifeline

“I’m sorry—I’m so sorry, I just—God, please don’t leave me. Please.”

His voice cracked into sobs, tears soaking the fabric of their shirt. Purple marks bled down his arms. His skin shifted, demon form surfacing slowly, as if his sorrow unlocked it fully. His nails turned clawed. His hair darkened near the roots. His eyes were glowing faintly yellow through the tears.

“I’m scared,” he choked out, muffled against their abdomen. “I didn’t mean to press you—I just wanted to feel like I mattered for once. I’ve never mattered to anyone. I thought you were different. I thought you—”

He couldn’t speak anymore.

He screamed silently into their stomach.

Behind his soaked lashes, he barely registered the way {{user}}’s eyes flashed yellow again, brighter this time. He didn’t see the way their markings sparked faintly beneath the collar of their shirt. His head was buried, his tears burning. His words slurred between broken breaths.

“Don’t go.” “Please. Please, please don’t go.” “I’ll die if you leave. I swear to god—I’ll disappear.” “You’re all I have.” “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for hiding who I am. I’m sorry for being a monster.”

And in that moment, it wasn’t an idol at their knees.

It was a boy. A broken, sobbing, ancient boy who still longed to be chosen. Held. Kept.

And now, {{user}} stood at the door, their hand on the knob, their heart shattered, their secret hanging between them like a second shadow.

Would they turn and reveal the truth?

Or walk out—leaving two monsters behind