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a-walkingoxymoron · 4 years

Text

Stay

Genre: Angsty with a fluff ending

Word count: 2.4k

A/N: I rise from the dead to post something for our boy Bammie. This was obviously rushed and unedited lmao. Hope you enjoy still!! Happy Birthday Bambam!

You thought you were over him.

No, scratch that.

You were sure you were over him. You haven't thought of him for months, the simplest of things didn't remind you of him anymore, you could do and try things that didn't make you think 'he'd surely like this' before becoming despondent for the remainder of the day.

You were over him. Supposed to be over him.

And yet, here you were, laying on your bed and staring at the ceiling as you felt the familiar sting of tears forming behind your eyes as everything came crashing down on you.

You missed him, every fiber of your being missed him. His cheeky grin, his jokes, how he never passes an opportunity to make a double entendre should the chance arise, his harmless pranks, his eyes that bore his sole, his mood swings - god you can have all day and you still wouldn't be able to finish listing out what you miss about him. Because you miss every fucking thing about him.

Your depressing line of thoughts were disrupted by the vibration of your phone, notifying you of a text message. The very same phone who's at fault as to why you're having a breakdown literally a minute just after you woke up.

…Maybe that wasn't fair to say to an inanimate object. After all, it was ultimately your fault for forgetting to delete it.

Still, looking at your phone to check if you woke up too late only to see the words 'Bambam's birthday!!! ♡' on your notification wasn't exactly the wake up call you wanted to have.

Not when you two were over.

Choosing to ignore it, you turned off your phone, pushing it aside. It was probably from work - you'll handle it later. You'll just call in sick. Might as well since you felt sick. How can someone who you haven't seen in 8 whole months still have this kind of effect on you?

You closed your eyes, a tear or two slipping down as you forced yourself back to sleep. Maybe you'd feel better after, maybe the emotions wouldn't be as raw as it felt now and would be easier to manage with later. But most of all you just want to stop feeling for a moment.

♤♡◇♧

It was noon by the time you woke up. While how you felt didn't improve like you hope it would, you did finally begrudgingly accept that perhaps you still have lingering feelings for your ex. For Bambam.

Your body felt heavy and sluggish as you hauled your ass off of bed, hoping you'd be able to do something productive while at home - it was the most you can make yourself do for missing a work day because of something so painfully pathetic.

The first thing you did was to inform and apologize to your office for missing work out of the blue, claiming it was because of a rather nasty case of stomach flu since you figured they wouldn't appreciate it if you told them it was because you suddenly missed your ex.

Next was to make a decent meal for yourself. Or maybe just order take out. Anything as long as you feed yourself.

Then… then everything was a blur after.

For some masochistic reason, you ordered Tom Yum Goong, Bambam's favourite food. You weren't quite sure what had come over you when you did.

Maybe it was an act of defiance - denial that you didn't miss him as much as you felt. Maybe you really were craving Thai food.

Whatever it was, it just made your state worse. It was when the blur started.

You ate the food in silence, punctuated only by sniffs either from bursting out randomly into tears or because of the spiciness of what you were consuming. Then came the junk food and binging of romantic dramas, tears streaming on and off in random intervals as you went through your whole pantry of guilty pleasures in order to bury the thoughts about Bambam. Thoughts of him that attempted to penetrate your mind over and over, relentless like a storm.

Next thing you knew it was 6pm, your life felt like it had spiraled out of control in the mere span of hours, you didn't even do anything remotely productive like you hoped you would apart from constantly re-hydrating yourself - no thanks to the tears that won't stop spilling for good. You have resigned yourself to grief, not bothering anymore. Everyone breaks down once in a while, you told yourself. It's just one of those days.

But tomorrow… tomorrow, you'll be better.

Knock knock.

You paused your show and whipped your head back to the direction of your door which was to the right of the couch you're curled up on.

There was a tap, wasn't there? Someone knocked, right? It was the sound knuckles rapping softly on your door, soft enough that the noise of the television almost drowned it but you heard it. Or had you been imagining things?

You counted a whole five seconds before your impatience got the best of you. Apprehensive as you were, the door tugged at you - calling you to open it. Ridiculous at it seemed, you know you'd come to regret it if you don't act upon it. Before you can stop yourself, your body moves on it's own, approaching the door. Another wave of hesitation crashed on you but you ignored it, reaching for the doorknob. Inhaling a deep breath to ready yourself, you swung the door open before you lost courage altogether.

There, behind the door, stood the person that has been entering your thoughts without permission. The person who was to be blamed on why you wasted an entire day crying on and off like a deranged person. It was a miracle you didn’t break down in tears right then and there. The world couldn’t be that cruel, right? Either it was or you were hallucinating big time.

Your chest tightened at the sight of him, memories flooding back with intensity that was tenfold of what you’ve been going through the whole day. Flashbacks of the past that were filled with happiness if not bittersweet ones - memories that made you wonder what happened to you two. Why weren’t you together anymore? You can’t even remember what you two last fought about that became the undoing of your relationship. There were shouting and crying, that much you recall, but what had sparked it eluded you like you were the plague.

Eyes wide, jaw agape, you stared at him. Bambam looked just as surprised to see you as he mirrored your expression. Bambam who donned his usual fashionable clothes but lacked the confidence he so often exuded. No, he looked dejected and unsure by your doorstep, falling in a silent stupor from seeing you. He didn’t seem drunk but his eyes were wild, anxious - attempting to look at anywhere but you yet failing miserably.

It was he who first broke the heavy, awkward, shock-shelled silence that engulfed you both with a voice that was hoarse and a timorous tone that didn’t fit his image.

“Y-you weren’t supposed to be here.” It was evident that it took a herculean effort to utter those words.

Your astonishment was replaced with perplexity at his words, brows furrowing in an unsure frown. Why did he seem so surprised at seeing you in your apartment?

“Where would I be?” You asked, inwardly surprised that your voice sounded steady and whole.

Bambam ran a hand through his hair in exasperation that wasn’t quite directed at her but more at himself, effectively giving him an unkempt hairstyle that undeniably looked good on him. “No I mean - you shouldn’t be home from work yet, usually. Right? I mean back then -” His babbling seized when he got a proper look at you. You in all of your disheveled, tear streaked face glory.

His gaze softens with worry then, making a tentative step toward you. “What happened? What’s wrong?” His voice was almost like a whisper - low, soothing and hypnotizing that it made you want to run back to his arms and bury yourself against his chest like you often did when you were still together.

Still you stayed strong, ignoring his queries as you shot him back with your own question. “Why are you here, Bam?” You shuddered at how foreign his name now sounded from your lips.

Reluctance flooded Bambam’s features again, unsure how to answer. You decide to press more when he still didn’t respond after a minute. “It’s your birthday. Shouldn’t you be out with the boys?”

“I am - I mean, I was. But - “ He paused again in a way that was slowly grating your patience.

“But what?” You encourage, trying hard not to sound irate. Bambam bit down on his full lower lip in thought, weighing out his options on how to proceed. Then, he locked gazes with you, resignation crossing his features before a wistful smile graced his lips.

“But I miss you.”

You froze. He what?

Now that he admitted it outloud, the action opened a floodgate of confession that was just itching to spill given the right amount of push.

“I miss you everyday but today was the worst. I went out with the boys, like usual. It was great, they had this whole party for me but you weren’t there.” A laugh escaped his lips but there wasn’t any humor behind it. “I can’t believe my birthday was the one that made me realize just how much I miss you. Not Christmas, not New years, not even Valentines.”

Then he looked at you with so much earnestness that you almost forgot how to breathe. But it was what he said next that dealt the final blow.

“Why aren’t we together again? Why did we break up, love? I thought we were happy?” His eyes turned dewy, making yours water as well in response.

“We were,” You breathed out. “We were happy.”

“Then why? I can’t even remember what we fought about.” There was a tinge of guilt in his voice but that didn’t matter because you couldn’t either. The topic of the argument was apparently so trivial that both of you couldn’t even recall. But you did remember what transpired just minutes before the argument ended. Through hot tears you remember his panicked and pained expression as you screamed in frustration at him - that you didn’t want to see him - before walking out indefinitely from his apartment where you once stayed. And -

“You didn’t chase me.” You whispered finally, choking out the words as you tried to fight down the sobs you felt coming. “You didn’t ask me to stay.”

Bambam looked at you, eyes wide and confused. “What?”

“You didn’t chase me -” You repeated, “I walked out and you didn’t chase me or tried contacting me after.” You could feel your voice cracking as you go but you pressed on, determined. If this would be the last time you can talk to him before you went on with separate paths again then you might as well say everything you had to say.

“I mean, I know I told you that I didn’t want to see you again and honestly I couldn’t find any courage to face you again after that.” Tears were now streaming down your cheeks for the umpteenth time of the day and you did little to wipe it away, wanting to get this over with. “So when I also didn’t hear from you, I figured you were done with me. I don’t blame you - I mean, how could I when I was the one who -”

You stopped when you heard footsteps incoming from the stairs of the building. It seemed Bambam heard it too and ushered you inside, entering as well, before closing the door behind him. He then turned to you, his eyes full of understanding.

He cupped your cheeks and gently wiped your tears away, “Oh no. Baby, no, I wasn’t done with you. I thought you were done with me."

You leaned into his touch, unable to pull away. "I know, I'm sorry Bammie." It was pathetic to think how your break up was ultimately because of a misunderstanding because of your outburst. But it was and you can't take it back anymore.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry." You mumbled continuously like a mantra. Bambam shushed you, pulling you finally into his embrace, rubbing comforting circles on you back as he held you close while your body writhed with sobs you couldn't contain anymore.

You two stayed in the position for a few minutes, enjoying it more than you cared to admit before he finally pulled away much to your dismay.

Bambam straightened your hair a little before placing both of his hands on either shoulder, looking you in the eye. "Is it too late?"

You blinked owlishly, confused. "Too late for what?"

"To ask you to stay. Will you refuse if I ask you now?" You opened your lips to protest, to ask if he was joking. But the sincere look in his eyes washed any doubts that threatened to bubble.

You've fantasized about this for the first few days you walked out, and now, 8 months later, he's finally here asking you. You already let him out of your grasp the first time - you weren't going to make the same mistake again.

"Are you sure?" You managed to ask, not wanting to seem eager and accept immediately.

A chuckle. A chuckle that you had missed so much it warmed you. "Are you kidding? Of course I'm sure."

"Really?"

"Really, really."

"Are you?"

He whined, pouting. "I'm sure, babe! Would I be here if I weren't? I already planned to ask you back even if you didn't tell me all of that."

You purse your lips as if thinking about it before nodding. "All right."

A wide grin graced his handsome face before going down in one knee as if proposing. "Then, will you please do me the honor of moving in again with me and staying this time?”

You mirrored his grin, pulling him up as you nodded. “Yes!”

Bambam leaned in to kiss you, pressing his lips softly against yours like he did so many times before. His arms wrapped around your waist, tugging you closer to him. “I love you.” He mumbled against your lips before pulling away with a grin.

“I love you, too.” You told him as you hooked your arms around his neck, a goofy smile on your lips. “Happy birthday, Bammie. I’m sorry I don’t have a present.”

He scoffed. “You’re the best present there is, babe.”

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sxfterhearts · 4 years

Text

scarred

29. [11:04 am]

➳ pairing: yugyeom x reader

➳ genre/warnings: slow burn, fluff + slight angst, slight bad boy!yugyeom, triggers; mentions of violence, injuries, physical abuse, bullying

➳ word count: 3,027 words

➳ summary: 29. “Well, what do you want to do?”

➳ author's note: once again, thank you to @jinyoungot7 for this beautiful gif :”) and guys!! i’m so sorry for the delay, but here’s part 2 of wounded/24/7:25pm!! 🤗 i’ve decided it’ll be a 3 part story hehe i hope this is a good continuation of the 1st part!!! thank you for showering me with love and as always, any feedback is welcome + appreciated! feel free to drop me a msg or an ask if you’d like 🥰

wounded // scarred // healed

“Wait up!” You yelled, your thighs burning as you tried to jog up the steep, narrow alley. Just twenty minutes into your walk and you were huffing and puffing as though you ran a full marathon.

“Come on, Y/N!” Came Yugyeom’s voice from far ahead, growing more and more distant as the black puppy tugged and pulled on its leash, leading him further and further into the winding maze of streets and back alleys. “You can do better than this!”

“I’m trying,” You muttered to yourself, taking a deep breath before going full steam ahead in an attempt to catch up with the boys.

It was a miracle that you three got this far, really. It took you nearly three weeks to convince Yugyeom to volunteer at the dog shelter run by your best friend’s mum. Every time you brought up the topic, he would either ask you about homework or fake a wince, prompting you to inspect his latest injury. He finally agreed last week. Your birthday was coming up soon, and he asked you what you wanted as your birthday present and how you were celebrating, in the bluntest way possible. “Well, what do you want to do?”, were his exact words.

One thing you learned in the past month since you sat with him in your family’s restaurant was that Kim Yugyeom was not one to beat around the bush. If he wanted to know something, he would ask about it without batting an eyelash. If he had an opinion, he would state it in the most straightforward, yet nonchalant way possible. You supposed it came with years of being labelled the quiet kid. It made sense that he was awfully efficient with his words.

Naturally, you had asked him to fulfill your birthday wish of visiting the shelter together. “Don’t you want something more substantial? Like a present that could either be useful or memorable?” He wondered curiously.

“This is memorable, Yugyeom.” You told him, looking him square in the eyes. “You won’t just be doing me, or the dog shelter, a favour. You’ll be helping me create a happy memory. Nothing is more valuable than that.”

Sweat trickled down your back as you jogged the final stretch towards Yugyeom who was taking a rest on a bench in the neighbourhood’s park. Charcoal, the black Pomeranian puppy you two were responsible for this morning rested comfortably on his lap, thoroughly enjoying all the attention Yugyeom was giving him. You watched as you slowly approached the pair, trying to commit the peaceful scene into your memory. The morning sun casted its brilliant glow upon them, and you could just make out the beginnings of a fond smile gracing Yugyeom’s features as he smoothed his hand, the one with just a lone plaster on the thumb, repeatedly over the puppy’s soft fur.

It was nearly picture perfect, if not for the sudden yelp the boy emitted when the puppy licked across his wrist. There was a shallow graze from when a piece of glass sliced through the skin from two days ago, which had just started to heal. If not for that Friday nearly a month ago, you wouldn’t have insisted on staying at the restaurant until closing time and would’ve left around dinner time like you always did. Ever since then, you always waited until Yugyeom came in with his order just in case he needed someone to patch him up. You distinctly remembered how relieved you were that night because the glass missed a vein or an artery. Yet, the thought left you disgusted. You shouldn’t be feeling any form of relief at all. Regardless of how shallow his injuries were, his uncle was still being abusive. You shook your head to clear your spiralling thoughts.

“I think he tired himself out.” Yugyeom said in a slightly strained voice when you arrived by his side. The boy was flapping his injured wrist repeatedly in the hopes of alleviating the stinging pain.

Without a word, you kneeled and took his wrist in yours, blowing on it with earnest. While it was true that a dog’s saliva had potential healing capabilities, you didn’t want to risk an infection. Especially judging from Yugyeom’s earlier reaction and the way his skin was just starting to clot, you figured it was best to leave it alone. The newly formed scab looked pink and tender, but it was on its way to healing properly.

Unbeknownst to you, Yugyeom started to squirm in his seat. He was getting flustered by the way your dainty fingers danced across his skin, and the cool air that soothed and blew his pain away. From this vantage point, he could look down and watch the glistening beads of sweat as it rolled down the side of your face, your soft lips pursed tightly in concentration. It was distracting. “I… It’s fine, Y/N.”

You released his hand and handed him a packet of tissues from your pocket, already missing the smooth feel of his arm under your fingertips. “Maybe I should take over?” You cocked your head towards the dark little ball of fluff lying on his lap, its tongue stuck out in an adorably goofy way. “Scooch over, Kim.” Scooping up little Charcoal in your arms, you moved to sit beside Yugyeom. You marvelled at the tiny creature lying curled up atop your legs. He was barely five months old and took up nearly three quarters of your lap. Just as your hand moved to pat his head, the puppy looked up and playfully gnawed on your fingers.

“Treats?” Yugyeom suggested, producing a brown paper bag from his pocket. “He could be hungry.”

“Here, I’ll do it-”

“Charcoal, do you want some treats?” Yugyeom spoke in a high-pitched tone, as though he was playing with a baby.

Before you could stop him, the boy had already reached out his palm full of treats for the puppy. You breathed an audible sigh of relief when you realised it was his relatively uninjured hand. “Look at you, Kim Yugyeom. You’re a natural when it comes to puppies. Who would’ve thought that you were so reluctant to visit the dog shelter just a week ago?”

He quickly shushed you, his fingers enveloping the puppy’s flappy ears to prevent him from hearing you. “Charcoal doesn’t need to know that, okay? Besides, this little guy changed my mind.” Yugyeom let out a fit of giggles when the puppy gobbled up all the treats and ended up licking his palm instead. “It tickles,” The boy squealed.

You watched, amused at the softer side of Yugyeom that was surfacing in the presence of the black puppy. “You know, the Imo at the shelter always talks about having way too many puppies. You could always adopt one. I think it’ll be good for you, you know? Having a furry companion can be a huge source of comfort and emotional support.” You suggested, your tone as gentle as possible due to the sensitive nature of the topic.

Yugyeom peeled his eyes away from Charcoal and connected his gaze with yours instead. You couldn’t really articulate it or fully understand it, but there was something in the way he looked at you that struck you as inherently sad. “Listen, Y/N, there’s something I need-”

“Yugyeom hyung!” A boy exclaimed from the general direction of the playground. The two of you whipped your heads around and followed the voice until finally you saw a boy, probably a middle school student, with a long fringe identical to Yugyeom’s, waving enthusiastically.

“Bambam!” Yugyeom waved back, beckoning the younger boy over to where you sat.

He sprinted across the field in a matter of seconds, giving Yugyeom a typical bro hug as a way of greeting. “What are you doing here, hyung? And who is this? Is she…?”

Yugyeom hurriedly clasped his palm against the younger boy’s mouth, muffling his words. He pinched Bambam’s cheeks teasingly instead. “Behave, kid. This is Y/N, and this is Charcoal.” With the younger boy distracted by the little puppy, Yugyeom took this chance to give you a brief explanation. “Bambam is our neighbour. We play soccer together with Mark hyung.”

“Hello, Bambam!” You greeted with a wide smile as you watched the younger boy coo at the puppy. You never met any of Yugyeom’s friends before, so this was a first for you. It seemed that beyond his tough exterior and bad boy façade, he was just a normal boy who loved puppies and playing soccer with his friends.

Just as Bambam reached for Charcoal’s tiny paws, to your dismay, you noticed that his knuckles were a familiar shade of black and blue. “Bambam, your knuckles…” No way, you thought, was he like Yugyeom?

“Bammie,” Yugyeom started in a scolding tone, sounding far more mature than he usually did. “Are those rascals still bothering you? I thought you told me that they stopped.”

“Yeah, well,” Bambam looked like a deer caught in headlights. “It was just, you know, a small fight, nothing too serious. I swear! I’m completely fine. It doesn’t even hurt, really!” The younger boy scrambled to explain himself.

“Where are they? Are they here?” Yugyeom seethed, his tone dripping with dangerous venom and his eyebrows forced together in a frown.

Bambam peered over his shoulders briefly at the playground before shaking his head profusely. “No, just forget it, hyung. It’s fine.”

“Take me to them, kid. Right now, and I’m not going to ask twice.” Yugyeom moved to stand before directing his words at you. “I have to go take care of something for a bit, I’ll be back.”

You nodded, speechless. Sure, you’ve seen Yugyeom mad before, but hardly to this extent. The only incident that came close was when he stopped that classmate of yours from striking you across the face. As the two of them walked away, your mind began to race with irrational thoughts. You pondered the list of possible scenarios as your hands absently stroked Charcoal to calm yourself down. Was Bambam getting into fights? But why? Could he be the target of bullying? The young boy seemed so innocent and harmless though, why would anyone do that? It just didn’t make sense. Those long agonising minutes seemed to stretch out as you waited and waited for them to return, praying that they would still be in one piece.

After what seemed like a lifetime, you felt Yugyeom’s presence once again as he collapsed onto the seat beside you. “Oh, hey.” You muttered, voice small and uncertain.

“Hey yourself.” He replied with a small laugh, intrigued by your worried expression. A few moments passed, and then, “Are you going to ask what happened?”

You turned your head to face him, quick enough that you felt a slight strain in your neck. “Are you injured?” You started prodding at his body, mainly inspecting his fingers, his palms, his arms and his face.

The evident worry written across your features amused Yugyeom to no end. He wanted nothing more than to iron out the creases on your forehead and turn your frown upside down. “Of course not. The little rascals who bullied Bammie are nearly half my size. I could’ve taken them out like a light.”

You flinched slightly at the unwanted imagery that filled your head. “Please don’t say that, Yugyeom. Please don’t tell me you got into a fight. I don’t want you to get hurt any more than you already do.” You confessed.

“Not to worry, I just gave them a stern talking-to and sent them on their way, unharmed. They scattered like little mice, honestly.” He was met with your confused stare. “Basically, Bambam is Thai. His classmates picked on him because of that. The kid’s parents don’t know about it but I’ve seen what they did to him. I had to stand up for him and protect him. I couldn’t just watch from the sidelines as my friend got hurt over and over again.”

His words left you stunned once more. You had heard rumours of him getting involved in fights with bullies in lower grades before, but this was the first time you got confirmation from the boy himself. You never thought that the cuts and bruises he showed up with in class were actually battle scars he suffered when defending someone else. He stood up for the kids who had no one, just like how he wished someone would stand up for him. So much for that bad boy façade of his.

There was a sudden urge within you to give Yugyeom a big hug for what he’s gone through and what he’s done for others, and so you did. It was more of a side hug, due to the puppy now napping cosily on your lap, with one arm coming around his middle and holding him close to your side.

Yugyeom didn’t know what to do at first. Should he stay still? Should he say something? He decided on reciprocating in the end, his other arm resting securely on your petite shoulders. In those few moments, the two of you were enveloped in a calming silence, filled only by Charcoal’s soft snores and the rustling of luscious leaves above your heads. Yugyeom could only hear his own heart beating thunderously in his ears.

“I’m sorry for all the pain you’ve experienced, Yugyeom.” You started, causing Yugyeom to shake his head in response. None of this was your fault, yet you felt the inexplicable need to apologise. “Thank you for being so brave and so kind to your friends and to those other students who got bullied.” You paused to sniffle, hot tears already pooling in your eyes, blurring your vision. “I’m… I’m sorry that, all this time, all these months, I could only watch from the sidelines as you got hurt, over and over.”

"No." He replied resolutely. "You didn't just watch from the sidelines, Y/N, you need to… Wait, no, are you crying? Why…? Don't… don't cry." Yugyeom panicked, trying his best to quiet you down. He didn't have a clue on how to comfort a crying girl. He tried to rub his palm soothingly over your back, but you didn't stop.

It wasn't until Charcoal, who had been woken up by all of the fuss, moved around in your lap and began pawing on your stomach. He even tried to lick your face, but he could only reach the bottom of your chin. You broke out into a giggle, and Yugyeom finally let out a breath he didn’t even realise he was holding.

“Don't cry anymore, you're an ugly crier.” Yugyeom said just as you were beginning to calm down. Before you could retort, he continued, “In my case, there was no way for you to shield me from my Uncle's punches or tell him to bugger off. You did the best you could for me, I don't even know why you're doubting that. You didn't have to patch me up when I was injured. You didn't have to be kind to me when I've never even spoken a single word to you. And yet week after week for the past semester you would sit there beside me, silently cleaning my wounds and covering them with those cute yellow plasters. You didn't have to, but…” He reached into his backpack and produced a yellow handmade card. “You didn't have to, but you became my friend.”

“What’s this?” You accepted the card gingerly while wiping stray tears off your wet cheeks.

“Your birthday card. Happy early Birthday, friend. Don’t read it until you get home, yeah?”

You inspected the yellow card, with Yugyeom’s signature chicken scrawl and random stickers of smiley faces littered all over the surface. There was even a Rilakkuma plaster, identical to the ones you would stick on him, at the top right corner. It was one of the most heart-warming cards you had received.

“Yugyeom, I…” You turned to face him. The scar right in the middle of his face, the one you first saw when you met him at the restaurant, caught your attention briefly before you finally met his eyes. You held his gaze, trying to convey a whirlwind of emotions through eye contact alone. Gratitude, happiness, fondness, touched, awe-struck. “Thank you,” You uttered sincerely, as it seemed to be the most appropriate response.

You read his card the minute you got home, sitting cross-legged on top of your bed.

Dear Y/N,

Happy Birthday! I wish that you will celebrate your birthday well with your family and friends. May each year be happier than the last.

I’m not good with words, as you always remind me, so I will just cut to the chase. First of all, thank you for being the light amongst the darkness of my life. There are not enough words in my vocabulary (or the dictionary) to express what you and your family has done for me. I will never forget it and I hope to repay this huge debt in the future.

Secondly, there is something I need to tell you that I cannot bring myself to say out loud. I am not brave, which is why I have to say this through a letter. Mark hyung got a job two months ago at our local football club as an assistant. Perhaps your mother has told you this, but his increased independence has resulted in the greater severity of my Uncle’s violence. Last week, after watching hyung play, the coach offered to get him transferred to Incheon United FC. Incheon is a distance away from Namyangju, which means we won’t be able to come back for frequent visits, but it is a good chance (and perhaps our only chance) to get away from Uncle.

This is what I keep telling myself whenever I think about leaving this town; about leaving you. As much as I would like to stay beside you, I have to break free from him.

I leave the second week of school holidays. If you find it in your heart to forgive me, let’s have one last bowl of naengmyeon together, okay?

Your friend, always,

Kim Yugyeom

For the nth time that day, the boy had left you speechless.

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