Obsession

98

Incouragement.
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Waking up to a quiet house wasn't a very pleasant surprise for the young boy who awoke from his slumber. His hair ruffled and standing all sorts of directions, his mouth all pouty and plump and his eyes covered in slight sleep. The argument last night had him on edge, it made him feel all vulnerable again. There were many things his mind still haven't caught up too, everything too him seemed to happen in the speed of lightening. It wasn't particularly easy for him to wrap his head around pretty everything. Like how he had no device to communicate through, to call and ask for reassurance from the very few friends he loved so dearly. He couldn't and wouldn't be able to know if his mother went out unless she left a note for him.

What he felt had him on the edge of his bed, groggily humming as he stood up on his own pair of two legs. His arms heavily swinging by his side as he slipped his feet against the carpet flooring, to downstairs in the tiled up kitchen and cold wooden floor. The house provocatively quiet and his head spinning. He felt detached from reality.

Nothing for him wrapped up to make sense, everything felt so surreal, like a realistic imagination or memory. His mouth was dry and tinglish, his skin didn't feel like his own, his feet hurted against the hard flooring, and his emotions were upset about the past argument.

No one was home. It was all quiet. And there was nothing. Nothing but him. There was no note, no form for information, no mom, no dad, he was alone, in a big house, filled with fears. He didn't know if he was happy that they still lived in the same old house as they did four years ago, after all that happened. Because coming back and being completely alone again, with no one to call if he needed anything, it was actually pretty fucking horrifying for him.

Not only that. But that his mother actually had the audacity to go that far. He understood she was upset, and he wasn't trying to change her mind at all. But leaving the home while obtaining his phone, and without leaving a note to even tell the slightest bit of where she could've been.

"I hate that woman" he mumbled, his voice coming out rather rough and inaudible, due to the cries of emotional destruction the whole night. He was tired, beyond tired.

He opened the fridge hoping atleast something could easily be prepared infront of his eyes, but he kept his expectations low. He wasn't going to get them Hugh after bring horribly denied any access to any form of regular social bonding via the media, and being left behind in a dark, cold almost empty house. But of course to his surprise he spotted a microwavable plastic container. And without thinking twice, he grabbed it, not giving less of a shit if it belonged to someone else. If someone were to get further upset with him, then he could handle it.

He saw a tiny sticky note on the bottom of the container, pulling it off as he read. He was almost excited to feel just the slightest bit if remorse from anyone in this household that wasn't his father. Which technically was just one person.

Though what the note read out loud did indeed surprise him. His eyes widened between the sleek keeping them relatively closed, as he read the three words on the note.

'Don't starve yourself'.

He bit the inner part of his cheeks, frowning heavily.

He knew he has been skipping meals and haven't been eating well. His body barely changed compared to what it looked like living with Chan and Seungmin. But he wasn't used to the availability of food, for such a long time. It almost felt foreign to him. Just the smell reminded him of the lucky times, but he quickly pushed it aside..keeping himself close to the promise of not thinking about two specific men.

He just proceeded to throw the note out in the trash, finding it rather useless to keep especially considering the fact that it wasn't anything sweet nor special. It was just a demand or a beg..two things he didn't need.

He grumpy placed the container into the microwave, setting the timer according to what it stated on the cardboard piece, before clicking the start button. He waiting, preparing a plate and a spoon, realizing he was having soup and not solid food. He didn't want feel like making anything new, so with a grumpy mindset, he started slurping on the soup, enjoying the rather unsettling meal.

The soup looked familiar, he couldn't put his finger on where he had this rather boring meal before, too tired to care he just continued eating, alone on the kitchen counter, gulping the food down his throat.

"I'm still mad" he pouted to himself picking up the soon too be empty container, a frown deeply displayed on his face as he finished up the last bit of the rather small meal. He didn't bother to clean it up, too tired and upset too even care at this point. All he wanted, was too shower.

So he stepped into the bathroom, preparing a towel to lay over the sink before he slipped himself off of the clothes he wore, letting it lay all depressingly on the cold tiled floor. He proceeded to turn on the faucet, setting the temperature to quite warm before stepping into the shower cabin. Closing his eyes as he felt the warm water collide with his body, the slightest stinging sensation of temperature he sat made him sigh out relaxed.

It was what he needed. A shower. Something to delete his thoughts once and for all, about everything from last night's argument to four years ago. He wanted it to run down the drain with the water. But he felt rather frustrated when his thoughts instead traveled along with the steam from the warmth of the bath.