[ Two-shot ] If He Stayed
[ Two-shot ] If He Stayed
Feat. Bae YongJoon + OC
Rating: PG
Summary: Bae YongJoon, the Hallyu star, lives a secret life. He is actually married, with three kids and another one on the way. But it hasn't always been easy. Being a public figure with almost everyone's eyes on him, he has to deal with being separated from the family he loves, the family that he wants to protect, more than anything.
Author's Notes: I wrote this as a present for a very good friend on her birthday. She loves Bae YongJoon, and to me she will always be his missus. ALWAYS. ^^ This is part one of a two-shot story.
If He Stayed
He is laying beside me when I wake in the morning. I didn’t notice him come in. Any which way, I’m glad that he’s home. I kiss his forehead, careful not to wake him. He’s been in a four-hour flight and God-knows-how-many-hours of work, and he deserves to get some rest.
The sunlight spreads generously on this part of the house, and it only makes his sleeping figure shine more before my eyes. He’s smiling in his sleep, and I fall in love with him all over again even without him knowing it. That smile - a contradiction of all contradictions - could make my knees weak, and yet make my heart stronger. With just his smile, I believe that I own his heart.
I stand up from the bed and look at him one last time before I leave the room. He’s still smiling, probably having a good dream, and I smile myself, thankful that my dream had come true.
As I cook breakfast, I feel his arms around me, his lips planting a kiss on my shoulder. He turns me around and kisses my swollen tummy as well. He must’ve felt our baby move. I try fixing his hair, “How was your trip?”
“Smooth, as usual.”
“I’m glad you got here safely,” I say, and then ask him to wake the kids up for breakfast. The girls miss their daddy a lot, and I know they would love to wake up seeing his warm smile in the morning. He agrees and quickly kisses me on the cheek before running up the stairs to the kids’ room. Sometimes he can be such a boy.
I serve breakfast as he gets busy with the kids. I hear them scampering around, probably wanting their daddy to carry them downstairs on his back. There is a smile on my face as I busy myself and wait for my lovely family to come down and greet the morning with me.
“Mom! Good morning!” the girls greet me one by one with a hug and a kiss when they come inside the kitchen. My youngest stays especially long hugging my tummy. She’s already fond of her baby brother.
“Dad? Aren’t you going to greet mom too?”
“Please, dad!”
“Yeah, dad! Just one kiss!”
I shake my head at our girls’ teasing, and my husband’s face turns pink. He gives me a good morning kiss, making our girls giggle. He pulls a chair out for me, and waits for me to be seated before he starts to eat.
He is quick to aid me in the afternoon when the baby’s weight starts hurting my back again. Patiently, he massages me and I feel a little guilty that I have to burden him with such task. He has come home to get some rest from work, after all, but my condition isn’t helping at all.
Feeling sorry, I hug him and ask him about his project. He tells me stories about his co-workers and their long hours of work, and I feel sorrier for him. He’s been doing this for more than ten years, more than the time we’ve spent together as husband and wife, and all these years he never once complained about having to come home to us, four hours away.
I am thankful that he’s still by my side, after all this time. Though I mostly believe that I am not supposed to demand anything from him as he has been a good provider to my kids and I, there are of course, times when I had been imposing. I feel guilty afterwards, yes, for who am I to deserve someone like him in my life? I know there must be times when he had stood in front of the crossroads; thinking of whether to stay or go.
He stayed.
For almost ten years, he has endured all my whinings, my quirks, the moments my jealousy reached its peak, even my threats to leave him and take our kids with me. He took all those blows, and I know I’ve hurt him so many, many times.
And still, he stayed.
“Baeb, can you give me a hug?”
He wraps his arms around me and I bury my head in his chest, closing my eyes. I feel his hand on my tummy, following our son moving around inside me. Sometimes I feel I’m pulling him down from the heavens where he’s supposed to be, as he is and has always been my god; the one who answered my prayers, and the hand that comforted me when I needed to be.
But he stayed. And why should I leave him?
He is holding my hand, watching the nurses take turns giving me tests. It’s time for our son to arrive, and all the tests are making me feel tired. I look at him and see lines and creases on his face. Poor him.
“Go get some rest, baeb… You need it.”
I see that he needed to get some sleep too, and he wasn’t going to do so if I didn’t do it myself. I close my eyes and try to sleep, even though I was nervous about the delivery. I feel his hand squeeze mine a couple of times before I finally fell asleep.
He holds my hand tightly when they wheel me inside the delivery room a few hours after I wake. My heart pounds quickly and my mind is racing. He smiles at me and all of a sudden I forget all my fears. “He’s here beside me,” I think as I close my eyes, “Nothing will go wrong.”
I nod when he whispers things to me and look at his face as he got lost in his thoughts for a moment. He looks back at me and tells me to stay with him. I say yes.
It would be wrong not to.
“Baeb?”
“Hey…”
I feel comfort in my heart as I look at him, smiling at me like I’m the most beautiful woman in the world. He squeezes my hand and tells me how perfect our little boy is, and I cry seeing tears in his eyes.
We lock ourselves in each other’s embrace, crying, celebrating the arrival of our son with tears of utmost joy. I feel his kisses on my hair, hearing him thank me for giving him another child, hearing him say he loves me. Again and again, he tells me he loves me. Again and again, I choke on my words. I love you too, baeb.
“Here baeb… have a look at him,” he says, taking out his precious camera and showing me pictures he took from the nursery.
“Oh… he’s fair skinned too!”
“Yes, like his mom.”
Tears fall on my cheeks like rain, and I wipe them away to be able to see our son’s pictures. It’s too early to tell, but I feel like he looks like his father.
“Here’s another shot… closer one.”
I look up at him as he shows me the pictures he took of our son and my heart wants to explode with joy. Here he is, the most wonderful man I’ve ever known, the first and last man I will ever love, crying and laughing with me like a fool. He’s given me so much happiness and love, and all I’ve ever done was believe in him and his dreams.
What did I ever do to deserve you?
“I’ll be back soon, baeb,” he tells me a few weeks later. Our son is sleeping in my arms and is stirred by the teardrop that fell from my eye. He kisses us both and gets ready to leave yet again.
I hold on to his word, because he has never once failed me. I believe because he comes back home and stays, if only for a short while, and makes our family whole again. I believe because he stayed with me all this time, tolerating all the things about me that he could do without.
“I love you,” I tell him before he turns to leave. “Be safe.”
He smiles, “I will. I love you too.”
If he stayed with me for this long, I have no right to leave him.
I hope you stay and never get tired, baeb.
Feat. Bae YongJoon + OC
Rating: PG
Summary: Bae YongJoon, the Hallyu star, lives a secret life. He is actually married, with three kids and another one on the way. But it hasn't always been easy. Being a public figure with almost everyone's eyes on him, he has to deal with being separated from the family he loves, the family that he wants to protect, more than anything.
Author's Notes: I wrote this as a present for a very good friend on her birthday. She loves Bae YongJoon, and to me she will always be his missus. ALWAYS. ^^ This is part one of a two-shot story.
If He Stayed
He is laying beside me when I wake in the morning. I didn’t notice him come in. Any which way, I’m glad that he’s home. I kiss his forehead, careful not to wake him. He’s been in a four-hour flight and God-knows-how-many-hours of work, and he deserves to get some rest.
The sunlight spreads generously on this part of the house, and it only makes his sleeping figure shine more before my eyes. He’s smiling in his sleep, and I fall in love with him all over again even without him knowing it. That smile - a contradiction of all contradictions - could make my knees weak, and yet make my heart stronger. With just his smile, I believe that I own his heart.
I stand up from the bed and look at him one last time before I leave the room. He’s still smiling, probably having a good dream, and I smile myself, thankful that my dream had come true.
As I cook breakfast, I feel his arms around me, his lips planting a kiss on my shoulder. He turns me around and kisses my swollen tummy as well. He must’ve felt our baby move. I try fixing his hair, “How was your trip?”
“Smooth, as usual.”
“I’m glad you got here safely,” I say, and then ask him to wake the kids up for breakfast. The girls miss their daddy a lot, and I know they would love to wake up seeing his warm smile in the morning. He agrees and quickly kisses me on the cheek before running up the stairs to the kids’ room. Sometimes he can be such a boy.
I serve breakfast as he gets busy with the kids. I hear them scampering around, probably wanting their daddy to carry them downstairs on his back. There is a smile on my face as I busy myself and wait for my lovely family to come down and greet the morning with me.
“Mom! Good morning!” the girls greet me one by one with a hug and a kiss when they come inside the kitchen. My youngest stays especially long hugging my tummy. She’s already fond of her baby brother.
“Dad? Aren’t you going to greet mom too?”
“Please, dad!”
“Yeah, dad! Just one kiss!”
I shake my head at our girls’ teasing, and my husband’s face turns pink. He gives me a good morning kiss, making our girls giggle. He pulls a chair out for me, and waits for me to be seated before he starts to eat.
He is quick to aid me in the afternoon when the baby’s weight starts hurting my back again. Patiently, he massages me and I feel a little guilty that I have to burden him with such task. He has come home to get some rest from work, after all, but my condition isn’t helping at all.
Feeling sorry, I hug him and ask him about his project. He tells me stories about his co-workers and their long hours of work, and I feel sorrier for him. He’s been doing this for more than ten years, more than the time we’ve spent together as husband and wife, and all these years he never once complained about having to come home to us, four hours away.
I am thankful that he’s still by my side, after all this time. Though I mostly believe that I am not supposed to demand anything from him as he has been a good provider to my kids and I, there are of course, times when I had been imposing. I feel guilty afterwards, yes, for who am I to deserve someone like him in my life? I know there must be times when he had stood in front of the crossroads; thinking of whether to stay or go.
He stayed.
For almost ten years, he has endured all my whinings, my quirks, the moments my jealousy reached its peak, even my threats to leave him and take our kids with me. He took all those blows, and I know I’ve hurt him so many, many times.
And still, he stayed.
“Baeb, can you give me a hug?”
He wraps his arms around me and I bury my head in his chest, closing my eyes. I feel his hand on my tummy, following our son moving around inside me. Sometimes I feel I’m pulling him down from the heavens where he’s supposed to be, as he is and has always been my god; the one who answered my prayers, and the hand that comforted me when I needed to be.
But he stayed. And why should I leave him?
He is holding my hand, watching the nurses take turns giving me tests. It’s time for our son to arrive, and all the tests are making me feel tired. I look at him and see lines and creases on his face. Poor him.
“Go get some rest, baeb… You need it.”
I see that he needed to get some sleep too, and he wasn’t going to do so if I didn’t do it myself. I close my eyes and try to sleep, even though I was nervous about the delivery. I feel his hand squeeze mine a couple of times before I finally fell asleep.
He holds my hand tightly when they wheel me inside the delivery room a few hours after I wake. My heart pounds quickly and my mind is racing. He smiles at me and all of a sudden I forget all my fears. “He’s here beside me,” I think as I close my eyes, “Nothing will go wrong.”
I nod when he whispers things to me and look at his face as he got lost in his thoughts for a moment. He looks back at me and tells me to stay with him. I say yes.
It would be wrong not to.
“Baeb?”
“Hey…”
I feel comfort in my heart as I look at him, smiling at me like I’m the most beautiful woman in the world. He squeezes my hand and tells me how perfect our little boy is, and I cry seeing tears in his eyes.
We lock ourselves in each other’s embrace, crying, celebrating the arrival of our son with tears of utmost joy. I feel his kisses on my hair, hearing him thank me for giving him another child, hearing him say he loves me. Again and again, he tells me he loves me. Again and again, I choke on my words. I love you too, baeb.
“Here baeb… have a look at him,” he says, taking out his precious camera and showing me pictures he took from the nursery.
“Oh… he’s fair skinned too!”
“Yes, like his mom.”
Tears fall on my cheeks like rain, and I wipe them away to be able to see our son’s pictures. It’s too early to tell, but I feel like he looks like his father.
“Here’s another shot… closer one.”
I look up at him as he shows me the pictures he took of our son and my heart wants to explode with joy. Here he is, the most wonderful man I’ve ever known, the first and last man I will ever love, crying and laughing with me like a fool. He’s given me so much happiness and love, and all I’ve ever done was believe in him and his dreams.
What did I ever do to deserve you?
“I’ll be back soon, baeb,” he tells me a few weeks later. Our son is sleeping in my arms and is stirred by the teardrop that fell from my eye. He kisses us both and gets ready to leave yet again.
I hold on to his word, because he has never once failed me. I believe because he comes back home and stays, if only for a short while, and makes our family whole again. I believe because he stayed with me all this time, tolerating all the things about me that he could do without.
“I love you,” I tell him before he turns to leave. “Be safe.”
He smiles, “I will. I love you too.”
If he stayed with me for this long, I have no right to leave him.
I hope you stay and never get tired, baeb.