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"But all I wanted was a shelter. Not experience for future terror."
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"Son, come with me."
Min Heong held his right hand at the raven haired boy, a kind smile bloomed on his lips. The sleeves of his black coat reeked heavily of a citrus cologne, also a scent of shower gel that drifted in the air. The man's eyes were shining in mirth as he bent down to the younger boy's level, gaze full in pity.
"Come on, listen to your dad, Yoongi. This place isn't for you! You will be far better in my house; it's warm, it's nice."
A low whimper cut through his talk. Yoongi intended turning around but his father beat him to it; spinning him at his direction again.
"Don't pay attention to that." Min Heong shook his head, his thumbs softly rubbing on his son's silky hair, "Your mother isn't in the right mind at the moment."
Another sob. Yoongi flinched.
"I have everything ready for you, son. You will be fine with me. With us." The elder male stated enthusiastically, his polished leather boots tapping on the floor. The door behind him hung ajar, revealing a blood red Mercedes standing on the street. Inside the car, his father's fiancee, Maria, lit up a cigarette with her red manicured finger; she stared at the pair while letting out rings of grey smoke from her throat.
