2.2 | A Lifetime Of You ✓

chapter 12

The view of Joon's office was spectacular. He had his own closed space, glass walls and a separate television for surveillance and news. He wondered how Cyan was doing, back in his graphic design department on the twelfth floor. However he was, Joon was sure he wasn't faring well. 

Lala's birthday was coming in July. Joon wanted to be invited, he wanted to watch Taekwondo Raccoon part 4 with her in the theaters, take her to an amusement park… he didn't just like Cyan, he liked, no he needed them. 

As a family. 

"Section Chief?" Assistant manager Kim Jugyun knocked at Joon's door, poking her pretty head inside. "We're all going for lunch. Would you want to come with us?" 

"Sure," Joon stood up and reached for his blazer, "you can head down first, I'll be coming in a few minutes." 

"Okay." 

Joon took a leisure stroll on the stairs instead of taking the elevator, running his hands along the bannister of the stairs and watching the horizon dip down to ground level with each floor. His feet halted when he heard a familiar voice speaking in hushed, hurried tones just one floor below. 

Joon's heart leapt in his mouth. But it sank down when he heard what Cyan was saying.

"What do you mean her hand's broken?" 

Joon stepped down, and saw a distressed Cyan rubbing his temples. He had a frown on his face— eyebrows sagged, lips curled in a scowl and the look of pure agony in his eyes. 

"No, you were supposed to take care of my daughter!" He yelled at whoever he was speaking to, and bile rose up in Joon's throat. Lala was hurt? 

"I… right now? And you're telling me that— alright, you know what? I'm suing you when I get there and please, for God's sake get my daughter to the hospital —" Cyan's fists clenched, "you're telling me you need me to take her to a hospital?" 

There was a moment of silence, and Joon could sense Cyan's anger. He was about to yell at the highest pitch his voice could ever muster. Seo Cyan. The ever perfect gentleman. Joon didn't like seeing him like that. 

He had wondered how Cyan would have reacted on seeing him, would he have been happy, or his eyes would be red from a subtle sorrow. But Cyan looked nothing like that right now. 

"Lala," he rasped, "she's hurt and… and I have a presentation in fifteen minutes." His hands clawed at Joon's arms in despair and misery, and in raw pain. "I don't know…" 

"I'll take her to the hospital," Joon said without a thought. 

"You will?" Cyan whispered. "Thank you." No questions asked. Just a reasonable demand for safety and promise and somewhere, somewhere deep down, Joon realised that Cyan trusted him. 

"Where's the school?" 

"I- I'll send the address. But, please hurry." 

"I'll be on my way then. Good luck with your presentation. And trust me, Lala will be fine." 

Cyan didn't want to let Joon go. The look in his eyes was practically screaming to hold Joon back and go to his daughter himself. Sure, Joon couldn't feel the same way as Cyan did, but he wanted to try. Maybe, it was a second chance and he didn't want to ruin it. 

"Thank you." 

Maybe it was just the wind, or Joon really heard Cyan whispering those words. 

____________

Lala's hand wasn't broken— it was mangled. A large nail pierced her palm, going in through the back of her hand and coming outside from the front. All the students of her class were sitting in a circle around her, with a hyperventilating teacher, who looked like she was about to faint.