The protector

His (MM)

2027, November - December

It was hand in hand that they climbed the stairs of his parent's house. She had been clinging to his presence for hours, since when they had woken up. Just one second to set the alarm, and they had napped in that way she seemed to like, with him shielding all her body with all his one, cuddling the elf with a rain of their words which couldn't be love ones yet dangerously sounded like them. Then, she had wanted to shower together and dress up together, with her buttoning him and he lifting up the zip of her dress.

And when he had opened the door of his house, the elf had instinctively grasped his hand.

Poor thing, the former Captain thought, cautious to keep his strides short and slow. Through an entire week, going outside had been dangerous, and she probably was still feeling disquiet. More than a week for her. Maybe one year, and surely that last sick, hounding month. The dead rats, the car which had followed her till making her fall from her bike. And who knew what else, as he was sure that she still hadn't told him everything. At the same time, he couldn't not think that it was his hand what she was looking for.

One last squeeze, and he rang the bell.

That time, anything but uneasy, his mother seized In-ah in a long, squeezing hug.

"I read your article, thank you." He heard her whisper.

"It's less than he deserves," was the reply of the younger woman, and Jeong Hyeok had to lower his face or they would have seen him flushing.

A few steps behind was Cheong-ryeol, poorly fighting the grin that was inappropriately urging to spring on his face.

Unbeknownst to the young couple, through the last period, things had dramatically changed in the Ri's mansion. Cheong-ryeol had been on pins and needles all the first days, more than sure that, when Yoon-hee would have known that Jeong Hyeok was in a dangerous situation, she would have reserved him the special treat made of glacial replies and killing glances. It wouldn't have been the first time.

It had been nearly like that indeed, at first. Then, when she had read the article, his wife had decided that she had always liked the girl, always treasured that presence in their son's life. Never used the word 'concubinage'. The article, cautiously clipped, was now in the family album, and news had been relentlessly asked – to him, he knew he would have paid the price of it in some way – and the day before uuuuuuh she had been beside herself, the anxiety eating her raw.

"Yeobo, let's call them! She's probably scared, poor girl!"

"Scared? She will scare the judge!"

"Don't talk like this. She has a delicate soul."

"Since when?"

"Someone who writes so beautiful words surely has a noble soul."

Mhm. Jeong Hyeok had always had good critics on the press, but nothing, never comparable with that article, actually. And even if it all was a farce, those words really were remarkable. She had broadened his son's popularity, from an artist only known by the elite to a protector of the people, opening for him new ways, included the political one.

Far from being impressed by those mundane aspects, Yoon-hee had been touched by the deep meaning of the words. In spite of their trivial use, only a person who loved him could have written such words. She had been wrong. That thing between them, she didn't know what it was, but it was something pure, and worthy of respect.