"Rapid heartbeat, unstable breathing and flushed face. My diagnosis is that- you must be gay panicking, am I right, Dr. Yoon?"
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» » » in which Yoon Jeonghan is a cardiologist, and Seungcheol is his patient. Aside from treating th...
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"Ah, really," Seungcheol sighed in frustration, "What do I do?"
His exaggerated sigh created visible smoke in the cold night air.
Seungcheol failed to ask someone out and now he feels more frustrated than ever, much more frustrating than waking up on a dream.
He didn't knew what to do. If only the city lights guided him. But of course, the city lights are merely listeners whenever Seungcheol rants, but they don't exactly respond.
So here goes Seungcheol, pacing around the rooftop with clouded mind. Teeth nibbling on his fingernails as his habit, and for sure his fingernails will all be gone by the time the sun rises or when he finally found a solution.
Suddenly, he stopped walking around, bringing his hand down as he stared at nothingness and come up with the possibilities of what may happen if he pushed his idea.
Seungcheol smiled... Of course, his mother's always been there; waiting for Seungcheol to talk to her.
And so that's what Seungcheol would do.
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When he arrived downstairs, he noticed her mom transferring the bundle of flowers into a very pretty vase. He noticed how her mother would stare at it lovingly as if it's some sort of an adorable person.
Seungcheol even thought her mother was close to tears, if he didn't cleared his throat, she wouldn't notice his presence. The mother abruptly looked up to his son, giving one last careful touch on the vase before she spoke.
"Yes, Cheol? Do you need anything?" her voice was sweet as honey and smooth as silk. Seungcheol got disappointed at himself for noticing that just now that he has all focus on his mother's words.
Seungcheol couldn't pick the right words, 'I'm about to ask someone out, can you help?' or should it go, 'How did father ask you out?'
Really, he didn't even know how to approach his own mother— years of closing himself on his own shell made him this way.
"Uhm... I was just curious how.." he scratched his nape, words seemingly caught up on his throat. "Take your time, honey." Yerin smiled, leading them both to the couch.
