"So, you're saying he didn't try to hurt you?"

Wooyoung gazed at the detective leaning over the table towards him, well aware that the room behind the one-way mirror would be chock full of inquisitive officers; he wouldn't be surprised if they'd ignored regulations and allowed the media inside too.

"No, sir," Wooyoung replied, sighing heavily at the repetitive questions.

"And you still refuse to tell us who kidnapped you?"

Wooyoung pressed his lips together in a thin line for answer, sitting back in his chair and crossing his arms.

His interrogator passed a hand over his forehead exasperatedly and his next words were spoken with crystal clear pronunciation, as if Wooyoung was a child who didn't understand the gravity of the situation. "Despite the fact that you don't want to press charges, kidnap is still a very serious crime and there are many, your family included, who aren't going to let this pass."

Wooyoung's expression didn't change, though he averted his gaze to his lap.

"If your captor showed you kindness, you mustn't confuse it to mean that he had your best interests at heart. He was being kind to you out of-"

Wooyoung's fist slammed down onto the table as he jumped to his feet, fury deep in his eyes. "Don't try and tell me this is all to do with that Stockholm Syndrome crap," he hissed. "He wasn't faking it."

"Who wasn't faking it?" the other man asked, a feeble attempt at catching Wooyoung out; they both knew it was weak and Wooyoung snorted in response.

"Am I free to go? Or am I going to be arrested for withholding information?" he asked, putting his wrists together and holding his arms out.

The balding man across the table gave him a long, hard look before his shoulders sagged and he sighed, waving him out. "We'll be in contact."

When Wooyoung's hand touched the door handle, the detective couldn't resist a few last words. "And we won't stop investigating."

Wooyoung ignored him and stepped out into freedom.

Only it had never tasted so bitter.