Commitments and Reactions (Part i/ii)
Your love is a one-way ticket to hell.
I’d burn in the worst way possible
Yet it soothes my being and ignites my existence.
There are times when it’s hard for Kyungsoo to understand, or even simply come to terms that he has to marry a man who doesn’t have space in his heart for him. He doesn’t count how many nights he’s spent alone, and neither does he voice out the questions -- most of them dying on the tip of his tongue.
Sometimes, Kyungsoo sits by their bed at six in the morning, holding back his tears as the pungent scent of sex and guilt stings his eyes. He thinks back to the time when he was barely sixteen, a boy in his class had just confessed to him about how adorable he’d thought Kyungsoo was. With a subtle smile and the slight shake of his head, Kyungsoo turns him down, but doesn’t forget to give him a regretful hug.
He has never felt another man’s presence since then.
The alarm goes off, signalling that it is eight in the morning. Picking himself up, Kyungsoo changes the covers and makes breakfast for two. He pulls out the pack of bacon he’d bought just yesterday at the market, sighing in content because in this very moment, everything feels perfect. Having something to wake up to -- cooking and looking forward to the door unlocking, then running up to a husband who’d then wrap his arms around Kyungsoo, peppering little kisses across his face. But as he sets the food down on the table, Kyungsoo remembers that reality isn’t always beautiful. Just like his marriage. More than often when he stares at the silver band on his ring finger, he’s reminded of how tied down and suffocated he really is.
It’s pretty much a routine that Kyungsoo has memorised all too well -- the only thing left to do after preparing breakfast is to leave, because breakfast for two, doesn’t really include him in it. Most of the time, rather than a marriage, Kyungsoo finds himself in a form of job because he gets an allowance every month to go grocery shopping and keep his lips sealed about this twisted marriage he’s in.
By the time Kyungsoo’s almost ready to set out, the clock strikes eight thirty, and he notices that it is fifteen minutes slow in comparison to the time on his phone. Good god, he mumbles under his breath before letting out a desperate sigh, in hopes of a traffic conjunction somewhere in the middle of Seoul. Hastily rushing back into the bedroom to grab a set of keys and his wallet, Kyungsoo panics upon hearing metal clinks on the apartment door. He really wasn’t in the mood to be a punching bag for two people, and one of them being his husband. As the door creaks open to reveal a slightly taken aback Baekhyun clinging onto a taller male by his side. He runs through a collage of facial expressions from surprise to fury, and it takes him at least ten seconds before he’s yelling out a dictionary of hatred and how he is going to kill Kyungsoo.
“Fuck out of here,” Baekhyun snaps, an arm still clinging to his boyfriend.
Of course, Kyungsoo doesn’t flinch in the slightest -- to his own amazement; he opts to clench down on his jaw and walk out of the door (but not before getting a shove on the shoulder by Baekhyun, his very own husband). Somehow, the world outside of his house seems much more beautiful -- the birds seem to be chirping a love song and the butterflies are fluttering about in the calm streets. Then again, it’s times like these that gets him wondering what exactly his husband is doing right now. It isn’t even a rendezvous with his other partner, but simply an open affair that he knows of, yet refuses to accept it. With his wallet in his pocket and hands unknowingly clenching into fists, Kyungsoo finds himself walking down to nowhere in particular. He wonders if the streets of Seoul would get him lost in the arms of someone who would appreciate him. Life hardly works that way though, he knows that. Merely judging from this messed up relationship he’s stuck in with Baekhyun, Kyungsoo is already familiar to feeling of the pain that is harsh reality. The shuffles of his footsteps on rocky grounds tells him that once again, Kyungsoo’s going to have to spend his day in this little coffee house three streets down the apartment. Stepping into the café, he’s immediately greeted by the barista at the counter and the smell of freshly baked bagel wafts into his senses. There’s so much about fake smiles and commercially forced friendliness about this place, yet it’s the closest thing to cosiness Kyungsoo has felt in years.
It’s rather empty at a time like this -- where the adults are off to work, and students, off to study. There’s barely a couple of people seated at the leather couch, slouched over a cup of coffee and newspaper in hands, and it gets Kyungsoo wondering if any of them shared the same fate. He shuffles over to the counter and pushes up a half-hearted smile, lips tugging up at one side as he orders his usual Bagel and Scrambled Eggs along with a warm cup of latte. Settling into a booth by the back, Kyungsoo stares out the glass window and lets out a soft sigh, eyes glancing about the empty roads. He realises how terribly spent he is, spending mere seconds in the same room as Baekhyun and his boyfriend. Perhaps he should be getting a job and start working his way out of this marriage that could never be salvaged.
It was honestly saddening; Kyungsoo remembers about the wonders of marriage his mother had once told him. She had once told him how beautiful weddings were but he has never once felt the bliss himself. More like, he has never had the luck and fortune to be in the slightest happiness in this shitty marriage he’s stuck in with Baekhyun. Come to think of it, Kyungsoo’s more of a nomad than anything else, having to wander about during the day with nowhere in mind. He’s not exactly the most exciting person around, and the idea of going somewhere new all alone intrigues but irks him at the same time. Baekhyun would never bring him out anyway.
The wind chime by the door sounds, signalling that a new customer has arrived for dose of coffee. A familiar chirps out the very same words that Kyungsoo’s so used to hearing by now. ‘Welcome!’ and it tickles him on the inside, knowing that he’s not that special after all. He looks up, nonetheless, seeing the back of a suited man standing by the counter, Louis Vuitton briefcase in hand. Kyungsoo snorts lightly, almost repulsed by the idea of Big Man, Small City. He wonders if the stranger ever feels coped up in a dead end place like this. Either way, his thoughts are cut off when a waiter walks over with a shit-eating grin on his face -- it gets Kyungsoo thinking if he’s paid enough for this job--, tray in hand. It takes approximately thirty-two seconds for his food to be placed in front of him, and a chill runs down Kyungsoo’s spine -- someone is staring at him, and he knows it. Through years of sneaking about with Baekhyun back in the house, Kyungsoo has acquired the ability of being a little more alert when something’s off (and he’s pretty sure that something is staring at him approximately three tables down). He ignores it, however. It’s not that big of a deal for people to glance around when they’re in a coffeehouse, waiting for their orders to be served.
Carefully unwrapping the napkin around his cutlery, Kyungsoo picks up the knife and slices the warm bagel in half. The heat seeping into his skin tingles him within, reminding him that these are the little things in life to look forward to everyday. Albeit a little different from the reciprocation he wishes to get from Baekhyun, but it’s good enough. The cream cheese softens with each spread along the warm pastry, crust crackling a little when Kyungsoo digs his fingers in a little too hard. His eyes are kept down the entire time as he savours each bite of the bagel, appreciate the food you have, Kyungsoo’s mother’s voice rings about clearly.
The latte is a little too bitter down his throat, but he likes the aftertaste of caffeine lingering as he takes a fork of scrambled eggs. It makes him feel like he’s anyone but Kyungsoo; the Kyungsoo he knows is never one for espresso (and neither does non-Kyungsoo-Kyungsoo likes it), yet he takes his latte slightly bitter. The Kyungsoo he knows, is also not one for loneliness, and yet again, here he is sitting at a coffeehouse at nine forty-five in the morning having breakfast with no one but himself. He’s a quarter done with his food when the screech of a chair causes him to look up, catching nothing but a silhouette of the well-suited man with his Louis Vuitton suitcase walking out of the door. Kyungsoo also notices the slight turn of the chair three tables down, leftover coffee still piping hot-- steam rising from the cup.
Soft, indie music plays in the background of the café and Kyungsoo recognises it as Grimes. He does have a little too much time on hand to spend, where else would befit than the large music store another three streets down? He takes it as the littlest amount of exercise he could get either way. Baekhyun pays him more than enough for grocery and some shut-mouth fee that he could both spend (a little), and save up.
Kyungsoo vividly remembers how Baekhyun had flared up the moment the latter’s father told them that they were to marry, he’d panicked -- strongly objected to the decision, if he may say, and how the other refused to speak to him even on their wedding day. It was an extremely rushed arrangement, but still grand nonetheless. What could one expect from The Byun Family?
Wide smiles are plastered all about on three hundred something guests’ faces, but Kyungsoo couldn’t find the courage in him to pull one out from within. His biological father walks him down the aisle and yet every step towards the altar feels so wrong. He sees Baekhyun waiting, seemingly an impatient mess as he keeps his eyes on Kyungsoo, causing soft coos of how mesmerised the other must have been, since Baekhyun could hardly look away from his soon to be husband, but Kyungsoo knows better -- there’s nothing lovely about his hard gaze.
It doesn’t take them more than thirty steps to arrive at the white altar, spotlight glaringly irritating. Baekhyun looks absolutely beautiful, and that was all Kyungsoo could see. Although he is disappointed by the lack of interest Baekhyun is showing; eyes flickering about as the officiant recites his words whilst letting out a sigh. Kyungsoo’s heart lurches at the sight, lips pursing into a thin line until they’re required to exchange vows. He’s been given a set of script to recite during this very moment, and he’s sure that Baekhyun has been, too. Kyungsoo notices the drawl in his tone, dread and distaste lingering upon every word he pronounces. The embarrassment is creeping up his cheeks, leaving nothing but a bitter after taste as they share their ‘I do’s.
Both their fathers are beaming from cheek-to-cheek as rings are exchanged, Baekhyun shoving the ring up his finger with a little extra strength than required. Nobody notices how the older male shifts his head a couple of millimetres to the right when they’re sharing the kiss, lips touching just by that little. Baekhyun leans in slightly closer then; cheeks pressing against each other.
“You’re worth shit next to Chanyeol.”
And they’ve been tied down to each other ever since.
Finishing up the last of his food, Kyungsoo dusts the remaining crusts off his fingertips and picks up his cup, sipping away at his slightly bitter latte. He smiles softly, pinkie finger raised as he focuses on the aroma of his coffee. It smells too pleasant for its taste. If Kyungsoo could, he wishes to have an apartment of nothing but endless cherry brown and the occasional white; a place where he could deem as home, and a place where he could have a proper family. Although, he knows it’s all but a dream too far away for his current state. After all, he has to get out of this relationship before he could find a man worthy of his time. Perhaps, a man who could sweep him off his feet with his intelligence, or the thoughts of being with a rebel thrills him too.
A guy could dream.
He chuckles dryly, shaking his head at the wild imagery of him riding away into the sunset with the man of his dreams. A sigh of resignation escapes his lips, and Kyungsoo takes a last look about the café before keeping his belongings, ready to head off to the music store. A strange feeling bubbles up from within when he steps past the third table down from his, and it compels him to stare at the un-cleared table, coffee stain on the side of the cup’s rim leading a stray droplet down to its plate. It’s nothing special, really.
The moment he steps out of the café, a cold breeze hits him in the face and Kyungsoo almost has the urge to run back in. Summer’s long gone-- traces of it covered by winter. To him, changes in seasons meant nothing but the change of attire, for his heart has always been kept in a glass case of recurring blizzard. He doesn’t have many friends to boot. Other than that very few from The House, and they were impossible to contact once he’d shifted out with Baekhyun into their current apartment. Not that he’s really bothered by the fact that he’s all alone -- he actually is -- but Kyungsoo figures it would have been much easier if someone he knows is here with him.
An array of colour catches his attention less than a couple of metres away; flowers arranged in the most enticing way as possible, and how coincidentally, a ‘We’re hiring!’ sign hangs out so very plainly by the wooden bench, ‘No Experience Needed’ written in small fonts with sharpie right beneath it.
Do Kyungsoo isn’t a man of adventures, but he doesn’t know what compels him to step into the store and squeak out a soft, ‘hello?’
Just as he’s finished with his word, an elderly lady steps out from the back, a bucket of tiger lilies in hand as she greets Kyungsoo with an aged smile. The crow’s-feet forming by her eyes calms him down just a little, assuring Kyungsoo that he probably wouldn’t be having a hard time having to catch up with young ins.
“I saw that you were hiring?” Kyungsoo flashes a toothy (iffy) smile, hands clenching uncomfortably by his sides.
-
At eleven twenty in the morning, Kyungsoo sets out for the music store once again, promising himself a good lunch along with a bright smile, impatience to start out his new job brimming over the top. He’s proud of himself, of course. It’s a little nerve wrecking for him, even if he’s assured time over time that the work isn’t all that stressing and fast-paced, considering Kyungsoo has never had a real job other than having to wait around Baekhyun twenty four seven. All he has to do now is to work real hard to pay up the rest of his debts and he would be a free man in a couple of years’ time.
This is honestly an interesting turn in his life -- never in his dreams would he imagine that he would actually be able to put his time to good use. His footsteps are visibly lighter, and Kyungsoo’s humming to a tune he didn’t even knew of. Life is suddenly much brighter and now he knows that cleaning up the apartment is not all to living.
He knows that being the dust swept under Baekhyun’s carpet isn’t all there is to living.
Discomfort of being stared at back in the café is now replaced with nothing but excitement and a new form of happiness he hasn’t felt in--forever. It’s a little complacent of him to be glad about something so insignificant, but this marks a new beginning, doesn’t it?
The walk to the music store seems a lot shorter with his newfound mood, and Kyungsoo’s starting to believe that almost nothing could make him feel any lesser. As his fingertips grazes along the albums, thoughts of how the elderly lady so very steadfastly promised him the job resurfaces, the smile on her lips nothing but assurance.
“It’s not a high paying job, but it’s enjoyable to work with the pretty flowers every day. And I’m sure a good looking young man like you would attract a couple more customers down the road.” She grins, giving him a wink at the end. “The only downside is that you would have to learn from scratch. If you’re willing to, you could come in tomorrow about the same time and I’ll start teaching you how to arrange the flowers. We’ll leave the actual job to the day after.”
Kyungsoo has never agreed to something so quickly in his life, that he can promise. His heart is still thumping as the scent of fresh flowers lingers in his throat, soft colours by his peripheral vision. Even the plastic covers under his fingers are loaded with happy pills, grin insistent on his lips as he tries out a couple of the indie bands. Kyungsoo has never been one for pop music, lest say rock. Although, a little Ed Sheeran doesn’t hurt. He’s heard rave reviews about him on the internet for months now, but he decides that today would be the right day to couple along with his newfound excitement.
By mid-day at two in the afternoon, Kyungsoo leaves for his empty apartment with a couple of new CDs and bags of groceries in hand. He’d contemplated between making dakjjim or samgyetang before settling for the latter. It’s been a while since he’s made something more than just breakfast anyways, besides, it’s not as though he was a fussy eater. On normal days, Kyungsoo would have just settled for either a pack of instant noodles or take-out.
It amuses Kyungsoo to no end, to how different he feels after getting a job. It appears that he is very much open to change right now, albeit it’s the little ones, but he does feel a lot better about himself. At least something to while his time away whilst getting a little bit of income, rather than just spending what Baekhyun offers him. He’s humming to a soft tune under his breath, despite how his fingers are aching from the weight of the bags and surprisingly, the wait up the floors to the apartment is a lot shorter. Struggling with the keys in his pocket, Kyungsoo tugs it out with much difficulty before he’s able to put up a tiny fight in unlocking the door. Sighing in relief, Kyungsoo steps right in only to be taken aback as he spots Baekhyun staring back at him on the couch, lips pursed in slight annoyance. There’s an awkward silence between them, until Kyungsoo decides to get on with the moment, carrying the bags into the kitchen.
He listens to the sound of the show that Baekhyun’s watching; generic laughter from the audience only turning his nerves cold every time Kyungsoo hears the leather couch shift. It’s been months since they’ve been alone for this long, and he honestly doesn’t know what he should be expecting from this. Nervously sticking his head out of the kitchen’s entrance, Kyungsoo bites down on his bottom lip as he takes a couple steps out, glancing up at his supposed husband.
“Have you had lunch?” His voice is soft and meek, fingers clenching by his sides. “I’m making samgyetang.”
Obviously, Kyungsoo was looking for an answer aside from ‘sure’, but that’s exactly what he gets as a reply from Baekhyun, and what terrifies him to his bones is the little smile hanging onto his lips. It was barely this morning that he’d cursed his entire family on death, but now he’s being the dream husband Kyungsoo wishes to return to. The way he smiles at him -- it sends chills down his spine, but Kyungsoo likes the way it curves ever so slightly, and he remembers why he’d fallen for him in the first place. Before Baekhyun had turned hostile, he was usually all laughter and giggles, charming both adults and children.
Kyungsoo doesn’t question any further before making his way back into the kitchen, head turning out towards the doorway once again as he figures that Baekhyun’s just in a good mood. Perhaps, he’s coming to terms about their marriage -- or not. The sound from the television ceases, footsteps shuffling against the parquet floor tiles and informing Kyungsoo that Baekhyun’s making his way in. Throwing a side glance at the approaching figure, he tries his all to pretend that it’s not bothering him -- the way that Baekhyun’s suddenly treating him isn’t particularly weird or anything -- but it does start creeping him out when the latter stands right next to him, watching him prepare the meat.
“That hair colour looks good on you,” Baekhyun speaks with a subtle form of adoration in his voice, “I’m sorry for what happened this morning. You know I didn’t mean it.”
Kyungsoo’s so close to snorting, yeah, right, you didn’t mean to wish for my death. Yet he holds it back, pulling out a forceful smile of recognition. “I know.” he mumbles.
The air goes deadly still for a couple minutes despite having the windows wide open, a lack of conversational topic killing off any possible warm moments.
A hand cups the back of Kyungsoo’s neck, and he flinches. Wide eyes staring right into Baekhyun’s, Kyungsoo retreats a step as the other takes one forward, an eyebrow raised. By now, Kyungsoo is absolutely petrified and his grip on the knife tightens before he gulps nervously.
“Come on,” Baekhyun coos, fingers beckoning his husband closer. “I’ve apologised.”
It takes Kyungsoo half of the energy he has left to shake his head, the rest seeping off with his fear. He knows how aggressive Baekhyun gets when things don’t go his way but this isn’t what he wants right now. Baekhyun doing this is just another try to humiliate Kyungsoo to his core.
“Fucking prissy bitch.” Baekhyun grunts, gaze hardening into a glare and it doesn’t take much for him to snap.
Kyungsoo knew it was too good to be true -- his feet trembles with fright whilst his fingers are turning white. A gasp escapes him as Baekhyun presses his body closer to Kyungsoo’s very own, pushing him up the counter against the latter’s will, lips dangerously hovering above the other’s lips. Shutting his eyes tight, Kyungsoo turns his head away and tries his best to shift a free hand between them, wincing when Baekhyun lands a forced kiss on the side of his lips.
“C’mon, we’re fucking married,” he hears Baekhyun hissing, and a rough shove from the slightly taller male gets his legs wobbling; entire body quaking in terror.
The clutch on the kitchen knife loosens and Baekhyun shoves a hand under the other’s shirt, nails digging into soft skin. Kyungsoo figures that the more he struggles, the more Baekhyun’s getting a kick out of this because by now he’s whining and almost tearing up, trying to push the other away. He’s putting up a bigger fight though, both hands slotting themselves between their bodies and doing his best to deny Baekhyun whatever the fuck he wants. It doesn’t go far -- Baekhyun pulls away momentarily to land a fist on the side of Kyungsoo’s head as he takes advantage of the temporary stunt, grabbing the shorter male by his neck and shoving him onto the floor.
“B-Baekhyun!” Kyungsoo cries out, tears spilling out with every breath that he takes as the other pins him down, bite marks marring his neck. “I don’t want this!”
Inhaling sharply, Baekhyun chuckles dryly and grabs a fistful of Kyungsoo’s hair before lifting his head slightly. Never in his life would anything come close to the hurt when Baekhyun shoves his head down again, skull banging hard against the cold floor that it knocks the air out of Kyungsoo’s larynx. Everything seems amplified with the yelling, reminding him how useless he is. His vision is blurry by the time Baekhyun finally stops trying to mash Kyungsoo’s head with the ground -- he hasn’t kept count of how many seconds it has been but the sting is further multiplied when his husband grips him by the cheek.
“Good for nothing, fucking bastard, seeing your fucking face irks me.” Baekhyun spits, voice coming off as feral -- nothing like the Baekhyun Kyungsoo knew of, but then again, did Kyungsoo ever really know Baekhyun?
This isn’t Baekhyun.
This is a monster.
“Why don’t you just fucking die!”
-
It’s unfair, Kyungsoo laments in the shower. There’s a dull ache in the back of his head and it doesn’t seem to be going any time soon. All he’s glad for right now is how he hadn’t broken the only skull he has, since Baekhyun is bent on breaking everything Kyungsoo holds close to his heart. It’s only a matter of time before he’s murdered with a shotgun unknowingly, yet be labelled as a suicide.
Warm, running water rains down on his pale skin, droplets falling off at the rate of his confidence plummeting. All that happiness from before isn’t enough to wash this off. Perhaps, he could phone the police and get a restraining order, but Kyungsoo remembers how influential Baekhyun’s father is in the society. It’s an endless cycle. And even though he knows this shouldn’t be his priority, but upon realising that the incident was the closest they’ve ever been since eight years ago, Kyungsoo wonders if he’s really that disgusting. So much to the extent that Baekhyun has never attempted to make a move on him for the entire time that they were married (until today, that is).
At times, Kyungsoo wonders if things might have been better if he wasn’t born into his family, would he be more successful then? He’s a fast learner and he doesn’t think that he’s that stupid, so perhaps an accountant, or a doctor? But then again, he knows he probably wouldn’t have been the same person. It almost annoys him how complacent he is with life now. Even if Baekhyun doesn’t give a shit about him and with that prior incident, Kyungsoo’s still fine with things. Most importantly, he misses his mother and even though it is because of her that he’s stuck in such a situation now, Kyungsoo could never hate her. She was an extremely smart woman, with her wits and capabilities, he knows exactly why his father had fallen for her in the first place.
It’s sad how due to her education, Kyungsoo’s mother could never go far in life. In fact, his mother was only but a mere part-time maid in Baekhyun’s family a couple years back. She would leave for their house right after sending Kyungsoo to elementary school, and return as deep orange tinted the evening sky.
It was until one very fine day that she had returned home, ecstatic with words rambling out of her perfectly bowed lips.
“Mr. Byun says that he’s looking for a playmate for his son.”
He remembers how she’d been so excited about volunteering her own son for this, just so they could be closer together at work. All Kyungsoo had to do was to accompany the Byun family’s son for a couple of hours everyday after school, and it was a few extra cash earned of course.
At the age of ten, young Do Kyungsoo finds himself in the mansion of The Byuns, pushing himself to befriend an equally young, or perhaps, a year older than him Byun Baekhyun.
Currently aged twenty four Kyungsoo chuckles dryly at the memory of how they’d befriended each other so very easily. They would climb up the garden fences and pluck off stalks of roses, handing them to their mothers despite the protest of the gardener. They knew no differences, and they knew no hatred.
As they grew older, both of them had started to take notice of how unhealthily close they were, and things took a change when Baekhyun had Kyungsoo cornered when he was sixteen, the former all but half a head taller than him. Baekhyun tells him how awfully beautiful Kyungsoo’s becoming as he trails his fingertips along the latter’s jaw, curling in by his chin and tilting his head up before pressing their lips softly.
Currently aged twenty four Kyungsoo can only shut his eyes and hold on to the last form of warmth he’s ever received.
They had sex for the first time that day; both of them new to the bare party but Baekhyun seemed to have done his research. At least, he had the decency to get the lubrications and condom settled. Things got a lot more awkward after that, and they’d kind of drifted apart after. Kyungsoo never really did hang out with Baekhyun from then on despite his mother’s questioning, and it was only easier to avoid the Byun Family’s son when they weren’t in the same school.
The next time they’d actually met was under the most undesirable circumstances. People in suits had showed up at his door the day after his twentieth birthday, and notified Kyungsoo that he was required at the house. His father was there on his knees by the time he’d arrived, mumbling words Kyungsoo couldn’t catch. At another glance about, he spots Baekhyun standing by the stairway, very visibly taken aback with Kyungsoo’s appearance as well. A shove from the back gets him moving again, taking careful steps back into the familiar mansion. Standing beside his father, Kyungsoo glanced down at the quaking figure and hissed; they were never close anyway.
Clacking heels resounded about the marbled flooring hastily, and Kyungsoo doesn’t get a chance to look up before his cheek is met with a stinging force. He blinks profusely, taking a shot to look up before he’s rewarded with another slap on the other cheek. It gets a little blurry after that, with yelling and heels digging into his sides, Kyungsoo didn’t really catch much of what’d happened. But apparently, Kyungsoo’s mother was romantically involved with one of Baekhyun’s uncle -- they had followed their hearts and ran away together.
Not without swiping out at least one fifth of the family valuables.
But who would have thought? The independent and beautiful woman Kyungsoo had trusted was such a family wrecker? Either way, Kyungsoo and his father had found themselves in a shitload of debt towards the Byun family with the only way out as Kyungsoo to sell himself to them. Of course, when they’d mentioned to sell himself, Kyungsoo hadn’t thought that it meant to literally be sold. And since Kyungsoo belonged to the Byuns now, of course they would have forced both Baekhyun and Kyungsoo to marry. This way, they wouldn’t need to be afraid of Baekhyun’s gold-digger boyfriend.
Chanyeol.
-
Kyungsoo calls in for takeout after he’s done clearing up the mess they’d made. It’s seven in the evening, and he makes a mental note to try to remember his way to the cafe. The stinging at the back of his head is insistent, and he doesn’t know how else to deal with it other than to hold an ice pack up to it. Chinese food for dinner. He’d found the pamphlet in the drawer and his mind flutters back to Chanyeol and Baekhyun, wondering how often they’ve had this together. He wonders if the food tasted better with someone else around.
The thoughts of Baekhyun getting this aggressive has never crossed his mind, and it almost terrifies Kyungsoo knowing that he could act this way. He knows he’s almost nothing compared to Chanyeol, for the man had not only stayed by Baekhyun’s side when the Byun family was falling apart, he had also been the one to listen to the other male’s woes. All in the short span when Kyungsoo had drifted away from him.
There’s a knock on the door, and it snaps Kyungsoo out of his reverie. There’s something so very familiar about the delivery guy yet he’s unable to put his finger on it. As he sets the bags of food down on coffee table, Kyungsoo finds a soft chuckle erupting from his throat and he doesn’t know where it’s coming from. He’s been questioning so many things lately, questions he hadn’t had an idea of even knowing. It’s a dry chuckle, but it turns into something louder and before Kyungsoo even knows of it, he’s tearing up. Droplets of salty tears are rolling off the corners of his eyes. Kyungsoo hardly has the decency to wipe them off with a tissue -- instead, he leans against the closest wall and lets out a loud sob nobody would hear but himself. Tucking his chin in, Kyungsoo cries with his fists clenching up and trembling by his sides, teeth gritting against the other set hard. A broken wail gushes from within; stomach twisting on the inside. It’s only now that Kyungsoo knows it’s possible to bleed from biting himself, his bottom lip stained with red and the taste of metal is distinct. A tough choice is deciding which hurts more -- the physical hurt from both his lips and the incident from earlier before, or the fact that Kyungsoo will always be nothing but dirt in Baekhyun’s eyes.
Kyungsoo’s tears stops just as abrupt as how it had started; the waterworks refused to continue, leaving him in a drought of emotions before licking off the remnants of the blood. He’s sure he looks like a wreck now, but he could worry about that later when he’s much more sober. Everything in him feels like it’s burning -- especially the back of his throat because all the words that have died on the tip of his tongue are incinerating themselves. Words like, ‘no’, or ‘I’m sorry’, or even the ‘I love you’ he was so prepared to tell Baekhyun the night after they got intimate, but was too much of a coward to.
When Kyungsoo looks back and reflects on his own behaviour, he can only see how selfish he really was to have left Baekhyun fully knowing that the latter had trust issues. He totally deserves whatever Baekhyun throws at him, even if had meant to be hurt. They were involved in such a sick and twisted way that it comes off as pure hatred, yet Kyungsoo knew that there was still warmth reserved only for him, even though the other doesn’t show it. Or perhaps he’s really just delusional.
But the food tastes great, or maybe Kyungsoo’s just hungry and he’s in no mood to whip something up right now. That’s all he really needs to focus on. He has food, he has a job and there’s a temporary shelter for him. Temporary. He’s still getting out of this place as soon as he can.
Next morning comes later than he could have ever expected. Kyungsoo spent the entire night up, in worries that Baekhyun might return and pull the same shit on him again. There’s this sudden barrier that he’s built up within the span of a couple of minutes, sending him into a flurry of panic, hoping there would be no repetition. He had stayed up, only to nod off to sleep for a good thirty minutes before waking up with his eyes stuck on the door.
Even if he knows that Baekhyun has a job at the nightclub his father owns, Kyungsoo can’t help but wonder exactly what he’s doing when darkness has steeped amidst the sky. He knows that Chanyeol has a job in the same place, and there’s this conflict happening within him, trying to figure out if he’s upset or angry. Then again, where does Kyungsoo stand, exactly?
As if nothing had happened, he rushes off to prepare both Baekhyun and Chanyeol’s breakfast before heading for a shower. He still feels the touches from yesterday and it disgusts him, even if he tries telling himself that he deserved it. He doesn’t have the right to be happy when the one to blame is himself. Kyungsoo scrubs even harder on his skin, nails almost scarring fair skin while the frown on his face is evidently mixed with salted water. He’s been crying an awful lot lately -- perhaps, one day, the tears on reserve would dry up and he would never cry again.
His footsteps are light along with the increasingly cold temperature outside, hands burying themselves in coat pockets as Kyungsoo quickly makes his way towards the cosy coffeehouse. Hopefully it wouldn’t be that packed before office hours, since he’s pretty sure he’d be staying for quite a bit. He left a little earlier than usual; just in case someone had decided make an early trip back. Kyungsoo’s also sure that he doesn’t need to meet Chanyeol and get reminded of who and what he isn’t. To Baekhyun, that is. Besides, he has been feeling rather queasy since yesterday morning, paranoia seeping into him slowly after having that encounter with Mr. Louis Vuitton.
The crowd in the coffeehouse isn’t as large as what Kyungsoo had thought it might have been. A few couples sitting by the booths, and businessmen with their laptops open, fingers typing away furiously. His usual table is empty though, and Kyungsoo smiles when the barista recognises him.
He’s not the most adventurous person, but he wishes to be swept off his feet right now whenever he sees couples with their overly affectionate partners.
“Good morning, would it be the regular for you?” he chirps out, hair slightly out of place.
Kyungsoo hesitates for a little, holding back his words as his eyes flickers up to the menu board.
“It’s okay, I’ll have a salted caramel latte and the turkey wrap.”
“Coming right up!”
Smiling, Kyungsoo pays for the food and settles into his seat. He finds his thoughts wandering off once again, thinking about the possibilities of the future, different scenes playing in his mind. He’s definitely an art major if he had had a chance to get into college. Performing arts? Or just fine arts; Kyungsoo has always had an advantage in drawing.
The wind chime on the door tinkles again, pulling Kyungsoo out of his reverie. This time, he glances up to see the man looking back at him. It doesn’t last very long, but for mere seconds and Kyungsoo is thoroughly electrified. It’s not in a way that renders his entire body weak, but the way he carries himself -- it terrorises Kyungsoo through and through.
Composing himself and taking in a deep breath, Kyungsoo lets his eyes travel along the trails of where the man walks, gasping lightly when he spots the Louis Vuitton briefcase in his hand. It all happens rather quickly -- one minute he was looking at how the cashier took in the other’s order, and the very next, Mr Louis Vuitton is standing right in front of him.
“Hi,” there’s a confident smile splayed across the other’s lips and Kyungsoo can’t help but feel his own bodily functions faltering. “My name is Jongin, and I really don’t wish to come off as a creep but I’ve been noticing you for the past few days.”
Kyungsoo stays quiet, focus getting lower till it reaches the table with every blink of his eye. He has a feeling that he wouldn’t really like the reason behind the other’s approach, but Kyungsoo keeps his hearing heightened anyways. He has always preferred listening than talking; learning things the hard way with Baekhyun when they were younger.
“Look, I really don’t mean any harm but I would just like a few words with you.” He’s pleading. “Just for a couple minutes, I promise.”
He looks up once again, only to be distracted by the barista bringing his food over. Kyungsoo realises how three people at the same table really is a crowd before he lets out a resigning sigh, nodding for the other to take a seat. Was it dangerous? Probably no, he doubts he’d be kidnapped in broad daylight. Was it possible that Baekhyun has sent someone to do Kyungsoo in? Very possibly so, he’s afraid. There was nothing about Baekhyun that didn’t make him a dead ringer of Master Byun.
“--None of what you’re thinking, unfortunately.”
Kyungsoo’s eyes snaps up, staring right into the other’s. There’s something that spells challenge in Mr. Louis Vuitton’s eyes and he’s dying to find out what he’s here for. Kyungsoo doesn’t really function well in front of others, you see.
“Pardon?”
And now that the stranger notices how Kyungsoo’s posture has taken a change, back straighter than before and eyebrows furrowing, he chuckles softly and laces both of his hands together, propping his chin right atop of his entwined fingers. “I’m sorry for the sudden intrusion, but let me introduce myself.
“My name is Kim Jongin, and I’m a psychiatrist.” He starts, letting his confident smile waver slightly. “I couldn’t help but notice the look on your face-“
Kyungsoo cuts him off at that, impatience slipping out from his tone. “What do you mean by the look on my face?” He really should’ve just said no from the start. Is it even legal for someone in medical practice to approach him this way?
Jongin coughs, settling his hands on the table instead.
“Apologies for my phrasing, but you’re always conflicted between things, if I have to say so. Brooding over something in one second, and letting it go in the other, only to return to that subject after a moment. Excuse me for being blunt-- you seem to be very much affected to harp on it for days.” Jongin takes a pause in his words, eyes seemingly analysing Kyungsoo’s reaction. “I am really sorry if this rubs off you the wrong way, I don’t do this often. Or actually, I don’t do this at all.”
Kyungsoo raises a brow, causing the other to add on hastily.
“Approaching someone, that is. We’re not allowed to do this.”
Nodding curtly as a shallow acknowledgment of Jongin’s words, Kyungsoo goes on to pick his cutleries, slicing out a bite of his turkey wrap.
“Look,” slight edginess laces along the other’s tone, but he still has that confidence in him. “Just an hour of your time. If you think that we’re not going anywhere with this, then with all my heart, I apologise for wasting your time.”
Kyungsoo keeps his eyes dead set on his food, refusing to glance up at the possibly psychiatric psychiatrist. He does hear the unbuckling of something metallic though, and a name card sliding across the table comes right into his view.
“I have to get to work now, but this is my contact. Give me a call anytime. I’m not charging, just take it as though I’d like to get to know you better?”
Slowly letting his gaze travel up to the now-leaving Jongin, Kyungsoo still refuses to say a word but rather, opting to take a sip of his salted caramel latte instead. It’s probably a terrible idea though, when he sees Jongin showing him a lopsided smile that looks dangerously like a smirk than anything else.
“I really would like to get to know you better. But let’s keep this down, we’re not allowed to have a thing for our -- let’s say -- patients.” And Jongin winks before giving him a small wave, turning away with a cup of coffee in hand.
He winks.
He.
Fucking.
Winks.
Do Kyungsoo is sure he’s never calling up that creep of a psychiatrist ever.
But he does, anyways.
-
Byun Baekhyun has never broken a rule ever since he was a young boy, preferring to be the good boy his parents have always expected him to be. Growing up brought him a lot of joy -- why wouldn’t he be happy when the sun was always shining down on him? Said son’s name is Do Kyungsoo, and Baekhyun had believed that as long as Kyungsoo was with him, nothing was impossible. He’s extremely egotistical; Baekhyun would never make the first move when it came to human relationships. Even when the mere sight of Kyungsoo’s picture would make him fall onto his knees and swoon like one of the girls in their school.
He remembers how beautiful Kyungsoo always has been, but he’s so much more with his clothes off. Fair skin tinted in red with the slightest touch and the way his back would arch off the bed when Baekhyun thrusted into him particularly harshly. He lets Kyungsoo brushes it off as Baekhyun being hormonal and what could be better than losing your virginity to your best friend? But Baekhyun doesn’t tell him that he’s long lost his to a senior named Kris (who’d turned out to be a douchebag), and he has always wished to touch Kyungsoo in a way bestieswould never.
He remembers how Kyungsoo refused to pick up his calls after they had sex and he’d even gone as far as to changing his number. Mrs Do hadn’t had a single idea, considering how long she hasn’t been returning back since her presence seems to always be required in The House. In that short period of time, Baekhyun finds himself in a vortex of depression when his mother passes away after being diagnosed with brain tumour and his father busies himself with work. The only few people who bothers with entertaining him would be the maids and butlers, but he knows that they’re doing it is because they are paid to.
He remembers the first day he’d met Park Chanyeol.
He remembers how Park Chanyeol had swept him off his feet at the very first sight, bringing Baekhyun back into reality with his companionship. Even when the Baekhyun insisted that he didn’t need another friend, Chanyeol trailed behind him like a puppy no matter where he’d go. Of course, the latter was taken aback after he was told how influential Baekhyun’s family is (He could have you killed silently!), yet all Chanyeol does is shrug and reply with a ‘I’m befriending him, it’s not as though I have a motive or anything.’
He remembers the first time they kissed, and he remembers the first time they had gotten intimate. Nothing about Chanyeol reminded him of Kyungsoo -- Kyungsoo was about tender flesh and vocal power, but Chanyeol was all lean muscles and musical instruments. One could make his knees buckle at the slightest touch, but the other’s baritone voice could punch him in the guts and Baekhyun would still be forgiving him. Most importantly, Chanyeol stayed, while Kyungsoo left.
Baekhyun didn’t need more to make his choice -- hurt slowly turning into hatred.
Then again, everyone should have seen this coming. Nobody noticed the glances between Mrs Do and his father’s most trusted brother, and nobody gave a shit when he mentioned that Mrs Do should spend a little more time cleaning up his room. It’s still dirty, he said, if things don’t start looking better she would be punished as to appropriate.
Clean his room my ass! Baekhyun cursed mentally on the day they’d gotten news about his uncle’s elopement. One fifth of the family’s assets had been swiped clean all thanks to those two traitors.
That was also the very day Baekhyun had seen his strong, independant aunt breaking down thoroughly, crying at a silver band left atop the table top. Not that she was the only one affected, but having to see Kyungsoo again brought back a lot of memories. He froze momentarily at the first sighting, only to re-compose himself and reassure himself that everything would be fine. Nothing could ever describe the want he had to pulling the slightly younger male into his arms, but Baekhyun was afraid he might vomit at how disgusted he was at the way Kyungsoo played him like a fucking puppet.
It took him a three-hour phone call with Chanyeol to help him get over seeing Kyungsoo for the day, and probably would take forever to rid of the irate he has now that they’re actually married.
-
Kyungsoo calls Jongin during his lunch break on his first day of work, surprised at how quickly the psychiatrist picks up his phone.
“It’s my work phone,” Jongin retorts, telling Kyungsoo how important calls pertaining to work are.
In a way, it makes Kyungsoo feel as though he’s just going to be a guinea pig of some sort for the other man, scrutinised under the microscope that is Jongin’s analytical mind. He tells him to drop by anytime from six to eight, reminding the smaller sized male to be relaxed before arriving.
Kyungsoo’s job goes rather well for the rest of the day, other than a couple of problems he had with the flower arrangement. He’s not that savvy with the colour template, and having to memorise the entire list of meanings behind every flower just spells hell. The back of his head is still aching and Kyungsoo can already forefeel the throbbing headache he would be getting. The flow of customers is low, which is a good thing because Kyungsoo honestly couldn’t see himself in a fast-paced environment having to handle three or four customers at once. Actually even two would be too many.
It’s probably the fourth sigh today as he’s making his way towards Jongin’s office. Kyungsoo doesn’t even know why he’s subjecting himself to this. For all he might know, Jongin’s office might not even be an office -- it might just be a huge kidnap case and that’s the end of Do Kyungsoo. Someone remind him why he’s so trusting again?
But it’s a pleasant surprise when Kyungsoo arrives at the address on the name card, and he’s definitely doing a double take. Isn’t this one of Korea’s most reputable private hospital? Kyungsoo’s glancing back down at the card, and back up at the building again.
So, perhaps Kim Jongin isn’t a possible murderer after all.
To: Kim.
It’s Do Kyungsoo, the guy you were talking to this morning. I’m outside.
-
6.18pm
His phone vibrates a couple seconds later, notifying Kyungsoo that either Jongin has been waiting for him, or he’s really just vigilant around his work phone.
From: Kim.
Lvl 5. Turn right, last door. If someone tries to stop you, tell them you’re looking for Dr Kim.
-
6.19pm
To his luck, nobody does try to stop him other than getting a few shifty glances from the clerk seated opposite of the lift’s entrance. He still feels uncomfortable and almost dumb for agreeing to meet Jongin. How long have they known each other for? Ten, fifteen minutes? Excluding the time Jongin has been spying on him, of course. Kyungsoo hesitates outside for a couple of seconds, hand lightly curling up as he knocks on the wooden door. It’s at the second knock when he gets a soft ‘come in’ as a reply before he pushes the knob open.
Decent.
That is what Kyungsoo would call Jongin’s office as. It’s clean and spacious. The lighting does make it seem a little familiar -- something one would find in the movies. Getting up from his desk chair, the other tugs off his glasses and smiles over at Kyungsoo, gesturing for the latter to take a seat at the long chair. “You should get comfortable. We’re just getting to know each other.”
Kyungsoo swears he’s not afraid, but the sweat beads forming in his tightly clenched fists is proving otherwise. Everything seems so iffy right now and the room seems to be getting stuffier. If he doesn’t have claustrophobia, he sure is getting it.
Settling himself down on the leather couch, legs tightly closed together and hands placing themselves atop of his lap. Kyungsoo doesn’t know exactly when he had started holding in his breath, but it felt really great to start breathing again when Jongin lets out a soft chuckle, telling him that he shouldn’t be nervous. Just treat me like a friend, and Kyungsoo snorts, holding back the desire to tell him how he’s not had one for years.
“Did you say something?”
“Why did I even agree to this?” Kyungsoo furrows his brows in annoyance, almost ready to take flight.
Turning his head slightly over at the other, Jongin utters while slipping a sheet of paper on his clipboard and walks over to the other chair. “Because you need someone to talk to,” Their eyes meet in a challenging manner, “and I’m here to listen.”
“Aren’t you afraid that you’d be thrown out of medical practice? I’m not under ruling that it’s compulsory for me to undergo psychological help.”
There’s a pause before Jongin’s reply, and it’s almost painful for Kyungsoo to sit under the air conditioning especially when the room seems to be shrinking.
“First off, I’m a psychiatrist. I went to medical school, not that bogus crap of psychology.” He loosens his tie a little, “Second, I’m not going to go all psychiatrist on you -- I just wish to get to know you as a friend. Perhaps it was a bad idea to invite you up to my office, but this is where people find comfort. Or where most people do.”
For the briefest moment, Kyungsoo recognises the look in Jongin’s eyes as insecurity, a feeling he knows best, but it disappears just as quickly as it came.
“If you’re not going to play psychologist--”
“Psychiatrist.”
“Fine, if you’re not going to play psychiatrist today, then what’s that clipboard in your hand?”
“A plain piece of paper for me to draw on when I’m bored.” Jongin grins with pride and flips the board over, showing Kyungsoo the blank white sheet.
Rolling his eyes, Kyungsoo sits back and sighs, nodding.
“I give up. Let’s just get this going and done.”
Ouch, Jongin mouths while placing a hand over his chest. “That’s cold.”
Even though what he had really wished to say was something along the lines of ‘that’s what you get’, or even ‘it’s just the room’, Kyungsoo ends up panicking. “I’m married,” he blurts out hastily.
The soft hum from the air-conditioner turns deafeningly loud, and Jongin visibly gulps as he laughs aloud curtly. “Well, that’s even colder, aren’t we?” he pauses again, blinking down at his empty paper. “But pardon me for saying this -- you don’t seem very happy about that.”
“I am.”
“...I’m a psychiatrist of five years in this field, Kyungsoo.”
“And you said you’re not going to play psychiatrist for today, friend.” Kyungsoo takes extra care in emphasising his last word.
Parting his lips as though he’s about to say something, Jongin only manages a ‘hmm’ before nodding to himself. “But what if I want to play doctor?” Jongin looks up and gives Kyungsoo a rather smug smile, settling his fingers on his tie and tightening it up again.
Despite everything within him that’s telling Kyungsoo to get up and leave, there’s something that is so very compelling about the other, certificates on the wall from Johns Hopkins University School of Medicine are blaringly loud in his head. He blinks for a few, and leans back against the couch.
“My life revolves around time. Getting out of the house in time, getting back into the house in time, cleaning up the house in time, and making food for my husband and his boyfriend in time.” Kyungsoo shrugs, words spiralling out of him as though they had not a single hurt in them.
“Then again, aren’t we all just desperate for a little more time in our hands? We pray for more seconds in an hour, and more hours in a day.” Jongin smiles a little, clicking the pen in his hand and starts scribbling some stuff on the clipboard. “What do you feel about your husband?”
“An absolute douchebag.”
Catching Jongin’s eyes briefly glancing up at him, Kyungsoo frowns and keeps his focus on his lap. “It’s-- It’s not as though I don’t love Baekhyun. I mean-- I don’t love, love him, but I do like him. We used to be playmates when we were younger. My mother,” Kyungsoo bites down on his lip in hesitation, stealthily gazing up at the other male. “Baekhyun comes from a rich family. My mother was a maid for them, and often brought me over since his parents made a fuss over how lonely their only heir was. I was only sixteen when it all started to turn sour.”
Jongin raises an eyebrow in reply, indicating his interest in the other’s words. “Go on,”
Kyungsoo explains how guilty and sorry he is about the entire situation, and that he shouldn’t have left from the start. “But I was insecure. I didn’t know if he felt the same way and I was afraid.”
“Of?”
“That Baekhyun might have thought it was just a one-night stand. I was selfish. If he was going to think it is only a fling then I would rather leave and never to return. I couldn’t find it in me to confront him about that. I liked him a lot, or so I remember doing so but Baekhyun has never made it obvious that he reciprocates my feelings or anything.”
Kyungsoo stops, almost proud of himself that he wasn’t tearing up. That he isn’t breaking down and making a scene because he deserves everything but not the luxury of feeling better. Seemingly getting the hint, Jongin nods, sounds of scribbling coming to a halt as well.
“Tell me then, how do you think about his boyfriend.”
In all honesty, Kyungsoo doesn’t even know how he should be feeling about Chanyeol. Because Chanyeol is so much more better than Kyungsoo. Even his name is perfect when placed together with Baekhyun.
“Park Chanyeol...” He mumbles while staring at the mahogany table, “Byun Baekhyun.”
A harsh intake of breath.
“I think they look absolutely perfect together,”
“Even though all I want to do is beg Baekhyun for his forgiveness. For him to return to me. People would never have taken another way out had an alternate road not have appeared.” Kyungsoo grits out the last few words, jaw clenching and nails digging into his own fists. “We lose what we’ve never cherished, and by the time we’re willing to, they’ve long been in the hands of another man.”
Kyungsoo graces a heart breaking smile and exhales sharply, throwing his head back onto the chair. There’s nothing more that he’s afraid to say. All is gone, and the only thing left for him to retain is that tiny part of his heart. He isn’t here to gain sympathy nor does he want any.
To Kyungsoo, sympathy is just the awkward sister of empathy that nobody wants.
The session with Jongin goes on a little longer than he’d expected, with the latter’s secretary knocking on the door and passing a greeting that she’s knocking off for the day. Kyungsoo shares with him about the little stuff -- telling him about the stray cat he and Baekhyun used to feed at three in the afternoon daily, and also when Kyungsoo had first found out about his crush on the slightly older male. He describes falling in love with Baekhyun as ‘a whirlpool of sunlight and fragile grey clouds’. It’s painful for both of them as Kyungsoo starts finding the rim of his eyes getting sore as he shares how Baekhyun had spent their consummation night with Chanyeol, the doors to their room left open with some very interesting noises happening. Baekhyun had sex with Chanyeol on our night, and all I could do was cry like the shitfuck I am.
By the time they’re actually done talking, it’s close to nine at night and a small yawn slips past Kyungsoo’s lips.
“Let me send you back, where do you stay?” Jongin offers, running a hand through his perfectly styled hair. It isn’t till he turns back and realises how the other must’ve thought it is a thoroughly incredulous idea.
“Are you serious?” Kyungsoo’s eyes are wide open and his eyebrows are neatly knitted close.
“Oh trust me, I’m being very serious about sending you back.”
Kyungsoo sighs, closing his eyes in frustration. “No, I meant the part where I’ve just shared almost every single shitty detail about myself to you and you’re still trying to hit on me.”
Shrugging, Jongin unclips the paper off the board and continues with packing up his briefcase.
“You do know that being in my occupation means that I’ve seen patients a thousand times worse, right? Besides, I really do find you attractive in some ways. How else do you think you caught my attention on the first sight?”
“If you’re trying to get into my pants it’s not going to work.”
“Sorry to disappoint, but I’m better than that.”
“I’m married.”
“I heard that the first time,” Jongin shrugs again, walking right up to the shorter male. “Besides, you owe me one. Aren’t you feeling a lot better now?” He raises a brow and beams, raising a piece of folded paper slipped right between his index and middle finger.
Without further hesitation, Kyungsoo grabs it with vehemence and flips it open to see messy doctor scribbles. His name has been circled a dozen times and it takes a little more effort in reading doctor, but he manages.
Patient: Do Kyungsoo
Diagnosed Sickness:
Really fucking cute. (lol)
Prescription:
To schedule more meetings w/ Dr Kim Jongin M.D (kekekekekeke)
There’s a few drawings of stick figures and a couple of four-legged animals which dangerously reminds Kyungsoo of dogs, but it might be some failed science lab clones. Turning around, Kyungsoo spots the psychiatrist holding the door open for him and he huffs, glaring at the other before stomping out of the room.
“Asshole.”
-
part 2