( Bang Chan + Hwang Hyunjin )
❝I cannot risk losing her.❞
┈┈ mistopher | 2022 ++
Pride is something that Bang Chan was forced to put aside in order to satisfy his basic needs. And he'd grown used to it for the year and a half that he'd been living o...
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TW: Brief description of blood & death ┈ ┈ ┈ ⋞ 〈 🏠 〉 ⋟ ┈ ┈ ┈
⇒Lonely St., Seoul, South Korea 8:30pm
"And I'll be able to go back to school soon?"
"Uhhuh," Chan answered with certitude that he hadn't been able to project up in ages. A hearty smile lifted his cheeks as he strolled the streetlamp-lit roads of Seoul, one of Bella's hands held securely by his, swinging back and forth. "And you're going to go to the same school that daddy teaches at. You'd like that, right?"
"Yes, I will! I'm so excited," Bella giggled, rubbing her face into her father's hip, slowing their steps a little. "And then soon, we will be able to take Ben with us, right?"
"Right, sweetheart," Chan whispered as they neared the familiar alleyway. And his smile faded some. Yes, he'd visit every day, as many times as possible, to check up on the family member left behind but, it always stung. That scenery never failed to roof a hut of nostalgia that leaned more on the nurturing of hurt and neglectable memory, than one worthy of recollection.
Chan sighed sharply as they bent at the corner for the more secluded road, holding on to Bella tighter, as well as the plastic bag of nutritious leftovers for the Rot Weiler. And he trembled, from the cold weather, as well as the way that his footsteps' weight sounded off of the graffitied walls as unnerving echoes.
"Bennie," he called, expecting that the darker path was absent of any other resident since his departure, just as it had been for most of the time. "Ben-boy, where are you? Bella is here to see you," Chan chuckled when Bella squealed, tugging at his hand to be free to run toward their old tent, frowning when her father only strengthened his grip. "Hm... since when does Ben go wandering at this time?"
Drawing closer, more indecisive than any other time that he had stopped by, Chan turned on the small flashlight, taken from his pocket. And then he bent his head sideways as he drew closer to where his tent stood, nervous, all of a sudden.
And he could have sworn that a metallic, troubling scent began a journey into his nostrils, but Chan couldn't allow himself to believe that. Couldn't allow his mind to adhere to the claims of his sense of smell, and was ever so tentative on the option to allow complete coordination with his understanding and his eyesight. Because nothing-- nothing about that horrid scene, made sense.
Chan jumped back, gulping thickly, glancing down at the child by his side.
"Bella, stay away from the tent," he let out, breathless, shaking. But Chan was over a few seconds too late, with his instruction. Because poor Bella was heretofore dropped to her scratched knees, small hands cupped over her face, whilst a fueled train of tears hastened down her cheeks. Her throat clogged with mucus as she cried into her palm, head aching underneath her brown locks, heartbroken.
