Forget me- Not [ Oh Sehun FF ]

라벤더- Lavender

🍁🌸🍀

Sehun mother walks behind him while he sits at the dinner table, arm suspended with a pot of thick stew gripped tightly in her hand. He moves his head to follow her while she trots along, ladling the first spoonfuls of the stew into each bowl as she goes. After she's finished, she calls his father in, runs her fingers through Sehun's hair when she passes, and seats herself with a content hum.

Sehun lowers his head when his father walks in. There's always a sense of shame and guilt when he sees his father. Shame for not being the son his father imagined he would have; and guilt for not wanting to be that son.

He remembers when they got along- before Sehun became depressed. They watched basketball games together, went fishing on the weekend, and argued dumbly about things they knew nothing about. His father really tried then. Now, it's as though he's given up. It's like he's afraid Sehun is contagious. Meaning, they don't do things together anymore. In fact, his father doesn't even offer.

So, now things between them are strict and tense and formal. There is a definite line between parent and child. Superior to inferior.

"How is school?"

Sehun looks up at his father, his spoon plunking against the side of his soup bowl as his hand goes slack at the question. There's a certain kind of fear that goes along with the topic, and it sends an electrical shock through him whenever his father mentions it- which happens to be every single night at dinner-
increasing strains between them further.

The thing about the question is that there really is no answer to it.

How's school?

Well, it's dull, but in the kind of way that makes his insides shiver. It's the fear of having to read in front of class or ask a teacher for help. It's the social anxiety that he's been trying to work on. It's his worst nightmare all in one place.

Avoiding the topic of school was an option, but not since he's been back. Dr. Burton wants to talk about it, his father wants to talk about it. It's inescapable. There truly is nothing good about school to him. All of it is just one big mess.

Still, Sehun shrugs. If he wanted to talk about it his father would call up the doctor-and then Sehun thinks he would hang up and call Aoyue instead.

"That's it? Not learning anything exciting?

No friends?"

Sehun shakes his head and slurps at his soup noisily, hoping his father gets the hint.

"Oh, c'mon. There's got to be something? What are you learning about in history?"

Sehun resists the urge to roll his eyes, but his hand tightens around the spoon. Some people ignore things because they're pushy and nosey and completely inconsiderate. That's how Sehun thinks his father is these days.

"Don't remember," he answers to please him, nonetheless.

"English?"

"Don't remember."

"That's bullshit, Sehun," his father states moodily. “All I want to do is have a conversation with you."

Sehun shakes his head. A conversation would be great if only it wasn't always about school. There are lots of other things they could talk about. For instance, had his father heard that his favourite thriller novel had been made into a movie? Perhaps they could see it together. What about the pretty brunette down the street? That fishing trip...was he still planning to go?