( 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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┈ ┈ ┈ ⋞ 〈 🏠 〉 ⋟ ┈ ┈ ┈
⇒0325 St. 8:55pm
Bella sat on her aunty's lap, comfortable; at home. Her attention was directed to the Christmas movie brightening the screen inside the Bang living room. Her knees jerked with the kicks of her legs every now and then, accompanied by childish giggles lifting from her throat when a scene met her entertainment standards.
And Chan smiled fondly with eyes on his daughter, feeling so warm. So loved. Ever so at home.
"I'll miss this," he hummed, sipping on a glass of wine whilst leant against the kitchen counter; force of habit. Mrs. Bang herself was standing beside him, her own glass of the mild, red alcohol held up by one hand, and a more sober serving of champagne in that of her husband, seated around the island; he couldn't afford another relapse.
"You're the one who wants to leave," Jessica Bang nudged her son's arm, a crooked, motherly smile on her more aged face, her too admiring the sight of her other children and grandchild in the living room. "You've got all the love and support that you need right here, Chris. All the love and support that she needs... You could just stay."
"I can't, mum," Chan drowned a chuckle, looking sideways and breathing in, heavy. "Bella needs to settle, for a while. I can't keep moving her and moving her after everything, you know? She just started school, so I can't just shift her from that either... Plus..."
"Plus?"
"Plus... there are other people in Korea that she loves... That I love. And I can't just leave them behind," Chan blushed, embarrassed. "Point is, maybe we could migrate in the future... but not now."
"Has my son fallen in love again?" Jessica rested her wine glass on the varnished surface of her kitchen counter, turning to take Chan's own drink to do the same. "Look at me," she lowered her head, and directed her eyes upward, eyebrows furrowed knowingly. "Have you?"
"I- I don't know, mum," Chan sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. And for a moment, to distract himself from his mother's interrogative gaze and barrels of demand for confirmation being filled by his heart, he stole the chance to again soak in the nostalgic beauty of his environment.
It might not have been Christmas day yet but, the dimmed lights, cinnamon-scented kitchen, the songs of love and laughter from the seasonal film running on the television, his mother's warm and slightly wrinkled hand pinching his cheek, his daughter in absolute paradise with--
"Christopher!"
"Mum-- mum, yes. I'm right here," Chan shook, sucking his teeth, "I just, I don't know if I'm in love, okay? I just have a few friends up there who I can't afford to let go."
