not what you think

xiii: n-5 [1]

Joonki has realized a new-found conviction upon turning nineteen. It almost glided to him like a well deserved epiphany, far from the err he heedlessly decreed upon a rather queer, in accordance to the society's preaching, discernment, although his only brother has assured him, unalike of his notion. His ridiculously vigilant self couple of years ago about it, vexed upon its utterance, has paled into something far from fear.

Another year and his sibling will scuttle him away, their parents unwitting of his secret, yet only available to his sibling and two young women whom he came to treasure and defend over. Or so he deems as.

His present self spars with the entanglement in his study, an unvarying, mammoth piece of writing pertaining to biology. The meticulous script of parasites and its detrimentality in humans renders him nearly lever on his tresses. Crossness appears on his rather defined profile, wishing to lever the book in granules, the monotonicity enervating him.

"At times I really wish hyung was here," He murmurs, closing the book after stowing a pencil in between pages to mark the segment he glided his eyes through. Stifling a yawn, his feet beelines towards the kitchen, to get ahold of any form of nutriment to his stomach. He perceives his mother stirring vegetables in a moderately sized pan, humming a number unbeknownst to his memory. The flare in the stove roars in its true blue, vigorous enough to burn if handled without caution. Nonetheless she is nonchalant as it has been second nature for her for as long as she can reminisce.

Joonki contemplates and finds himself backing away, aloof from causing any sound to permeate to his mother. He nearly walks to his personal threshold, save for mounting still by a thin, mellow voice.

"Joonki, I know you're there, you don't have to be discreet," His mother says, flipping the vegetables in the pan to evenly cook it, without a singular leer at the younger.

"Omma, hi. I'm sorry, I felt like I should come back later," Joonki sheepishly treads to stand beside his mother, eyeing the blistering of the food, doused in oil, aware of his failed mission to leave his mother in her own utopia.

She swirls her head to the left to perceive his younger son addressing her in a quaint tone.

"It's alright. Do you need something to eat? Because I'm sure it's the only thing which would get you out of the room," She says, dimming the intensity of the stove to steer clear of burning the food.

"Yeah. Biology is overbearing, so here I am," Joonki shrugs before permitting his eyes to glide back to the food, perceiving the sound interesting to his ears.

"There's a cookie jar on the top left cabinet," She gestures to the position with a nod of head, before turning to glide her hands over his tresses, "I think you'll find enough to eat."

"Thank you, omma," Joonki stows a token of adoration on his mother's cheek, levering his eyes away from the food before extending his hand towards the cabinet to fish out the canister full of chocolate chip cookies, his eternally preferred snack.

Both of them remain soundless, save for the searing sound of the cooking and subdued chomps on the cookies. The solar body reaches its zenith to alarm the dwellers of midday, when Huijin and Joonki hear the clink of rice cooker, making aware of its wholeness.

"Your father will come home late again," She says, stowing the rice onto two small bowls, Joonki taking up the food on the stove to the table. He warms up the leftover kimchi and samgyeopsal in the refrigerator in the amount of two people.

"How busy is he?", Joonki asks, grappling two pairs of chopsticks, handing one to her.

"It's one of those investors, he has to convince them for the deal to finalize."