Hate me. (Minsung)

//35//

•••
once beginning to mistreat your child, it's hard to take it back.

once you begin to abuse your child, forward or passive, it's hard to take it back.

the countless days of pain and suffering could not simply be replaced with inconsequential things.

after a whole day of his mother being missing, jisung being a young child who still lacked the skills to feed himself or reach the cabinets, found something placed on the table.

he couldn't see it well from where he was standing and from how little he was, so he approached it- climbing on the chairs and hoisting himself up.

the moment he could clearly see what was on the table, he paused and stared at it in curiosity. he was confused.

a little piece of paper with the words 'i'm sorry' written on it, and a piece of butterscotch right beside it.

this would grow into a habit.

every single time his mother would do something so deeply terrible, such as leaving her own child locked outside during a snow storm, jisung would find these.

whether it be on his desk, on the table, on the counter. he would find them. sometimes without the note.

sometimes it was just a single piece of candy that he would either swipe off the table or walk to the trash with hot tears in his eyes- his hands shaking at the empty, overall meaningless gesture.

even as a kid he knew better than to accept it.

no candy could make up for it. no stale piece of butterscotch could mend back the broken shards of himself that was a result of her.

she wouldn't stop. she would never take control of herself. the single note and piece of candy was only representative of one thing. it was strictly damage control, and a failed attempt at an apology.

and soon the tiny trashcan in jisung's room was filled to the top with these candies that were bitter, even though they were meant to be sweet.

he hated butterscotch.

~~~

the call never was received.

jisung hadn't left the bathroom for a long time, nothing being heard from behind the door no matter how many times minho paused to listen from where he sat.

the older was sat on his bed, eating the stolen bag of chips that he took from the pantry despite not even living there. he sat, eyes finding their way to the tv jisung had dully playing while he was doing his homework.

he wondered how much longer the blonde would keep himself locked in there.

it had been thirty minutes already. minho put his money on an hour at least.

another half an hour passed, and sure enough there was the jiggle of the doorknob and the sound of it unlocking. minho was right.

with slow steps jisung walked out, face still lacking color with his sleeve promptly pressed against his mouth. as if the single calling notification was enough to make him feel sick.

his breathing was better, however his hair was messed up and far more disheveled compared to before. if minho looked hard enough he would surely see the redness of jisung's fingers- how they were practically bleeding from what could only be the blonde tearing at them.

minho watched the way jisung slowly made his way over to the table where his phone had been put down on. all his movements were slugged. with a sleeve still against his mouth, he turned the device over and looked at the screen lighting up.

he must've been looking at the missed call notification.

his eyes were flat and glossy. one hour in the bathroom had made him look like he hadn't slept in days.

minho observed as jisung put his phone back down and exhale. when jisung finally noticed that someone else was there, he looked over and directly locked eyes with him.

except it wasn't right.

there was nothing there.

no anger about minho still being there, no surprise, no shock- nothing.

all his expression could give was the sickly look it had the moment he received the call. everything was dull. there wasn't anything to read.

jisung was the first to look away, still holding no outward reaction as he turned to slip on his shoes, his body not properly being balanced as he held onto the wall for help. not even looking back for a second, jisung opened the door and left without a word.

without his phone, without his keys- without anything.

minho blinked.

what could've been so bad that jisung had a reaction like that to his own mother calling his phone? what the hell just happened?

this surely had to be an overreaction. the blonde was very emotional anyways- minho always knew this, even as kids.

minho assumed that he and his mother probably had gotten into a fight the night before, and jisung was freaking out because he wasn't prepared for a scolding.

minho left the chip bag there, shutting off the tv with a scoff as he turned off the light.

he was leaving. he didn't even know why he even stayed there for as long as he did.

truth be told, he didn't care about jisung's overdramatic reactions to things. so maybe part of him was curious as to how long the blonde planned on trapping himself in the bathroom.

minho mumbled to himself under his breath and grabbed his bag, sliding it up his arm as he opened the front door.

he couldn't care less about whatever the hell he just saw. and he truly couldn't care about where the hell jisung is wandering off to right now.

that's what his brain kept telling him.

even though his initial reaction was how jisung shouldn't have left without his phone.

that maybe he should leave the door unlocked because jisung didn't take his keys.