"Mom?"
You descend down the stairs, a book curled up in your arms. Your eyes felt moist and before you even knew it, tears were running down your cheeks as you dropped the book and scrambled to your mother.
The warmth she radiated could not be compared with anything, and it was concerning how sickly thin she felt in your arms.
Her skin had lost its colour, remaining pale and dull. Even her eyes, that usually sparkled at the mere sight of you, were gloomy.
You don't part away from her, wanting to keep her as close as humanly possible. And yet she only smiles, caressing your scalp with shaky hands.
"I missed you so much."
And although Jungkook kept you occupied and happy, nothing could feel the vacancy of motherly warmth.
She only nods against your shoulder, rubbing your back. And when you lean away to look at her, a gasp of horror muffles in your throat.
"Mom, what happened to you?"
When your vague vision clears up and the tears finally fade, you were left to complete sorrow as you take her appearance in.
Your fingers tremble as they trace the evident purple bruise at the side of her temple, a fading cut below her chin and above her nose.
"Did father--"
"No, no Yn-ah. He's nice, he is out most of the time. I just tend to be clumsy sometimes."
You don't miss the way her voice wavers with fear, and you've never hated anyone with every ounce of your being before.
"Come, sit with me. I bought you presents."
You wish to push the topic, delve deeper and find out what was happening but that would only cost your mother's safety more.
So you sit by her side and never let go of her palm clasped in your's, looking through the countless gifts she had bought with love.
"Mom, please stay for dinner?" You discreetly ask, tearing the wrapping off a box and tossing it aside.
She hesitates for a moment but eventually nods, "but, I wish to cook."
You almost immediately shake your head in denial, "I can't make you cook mom, you're the guest today. Take a break sometimes please, you worry me."
She sighs, placing both of her palms against your knees. "At least I can help, that's the least I can do for you."
"You've done a whole lot for me." You pout under your breath, upset that she invalidated her efforts.
"Honey, is Jungkook treating you well?"
The crimson hue on your cheeks is immediate, a smile breaking out on your lips. "Very well."
Her mother laughs, and it sounds genuine for the first time in a long while. "I couldn't be happier, I was so scared for you."
"Mom," you start, noting the way she tenses at the serious call of name, "why won't you leave that man?"
"I can't, baby."
She simply speaks with a regretful glint in her eyes, her gaze averting trying to distract herself by collecting the pile of bags.
"I love him."
"You don't," she snaps her head to look at you, "you are trapped and not in love, you are in denial, not in love."
You don't wait for her to respond, walking into the kitchen with a stone of guilt and uneasiness heavy on your heart.
It can't be love, love isn't forced.
