𝐉𝐎𝐎 𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐊-𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍 ✩•̩̩͙*˚＊· ───
𝐩𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐛𝐢𝐚 (ɴᴏᴜɴ) . ᴛʜᴇ ғᴇᴀʀ ᴏғ ᴛʀᴜsᴛɪɴɢ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ.
─── The most dangerous game of power in South Korea has no rules or limitations, except for those created by each individual player's ima...
"What's wrong with your hand?" Seojin asked the following morning when the family was gathered around the table for breakfast. She only briefly glanced at Yoori, eyeing the bandages on the young girl's wrist that disappeared under her black satin gloves for a moment before turning her attention back to her meal.
"You, of all people, should know," Yoon-cheol spoke up before Yoori could answer, looking up from his meal to shoot a look of annoyance at his wife.
Seojin didn't look back at him. "Why should I?"
"You forced her to practice for hours on end yesterday," Yoon-cheol responded, eyebrows furrowing. "Yoori-ah strained her wrist after playing the piano for too long without any breaks, so now she has to wear the bandages and be careful while waiting for her injury to heal."
A hum of acknowledgement sounded from Seojin who briefly looked over at the chestnut-haired girl again. "I suppose that we'll have to suspend the piano lessons for a while. How long will the injury take to heal?"
"Between 2 and 10 weeks."
Turning to her husband with a look of disbelief on her face, Seojin echoed, "Between 2 and 10 weeks? Are you being serious?"
"Does it look like I'm joking?" Yoon-cheol asked, his frown worsening.
"The admission exams for Cheong-Ah are just around the corner. How do you expect her to prepare for that if she doesn't have enough time to let her injury heal beforehand?"
"Well maybe you should have thought about that before you forced her to practice for hours on end. If you had let her have breaks instead of pushing her way beyond her limit, this wouldn't have happened!"
The sound of a hand slamming down on the table stopped the argument from developing any further. Both adults turned to a scowling Eun-byeol with wide-eyes, watching as she stood up out of her seat and scanned everyone at the table with a scathing look in her eyes.
"I've had enough," the brunette said coldly. "I'll get going to school now."
"But you haven't finished—"
"I'm full," Eun-byeol cut her mother off, already leaving the table and swinging her schoolbag onto her shoulder.
Silence settled over the table once again as the Ha girl left the house, slamming the front door behind her.
