ʙᴇʜɪɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴜʀᴛᴀɪɴꜱ| ateez

✭𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐈𝐅𝐓𝐘 𝐎𝐍𝐄✭

✭ JIHOON✭

Even at this ungodly hour, when most of the world was lost in dreams, the weight of my actions felt almost tangible. Wooyoung, oblivious in his sleep, was an embodiment of serenity. How many nights had I watched him like this, pondering the intricacies of our relationship? His steady breaths almost seemed to whisper words of comfort, urging me to find solace amidst my own turmoil.

However, a subtle cry from the other room pulled me back into reality. The journey from the bedroom to the kitchen was a walk through the chronicles of our life together. Each piece of furniture, every photo hanging on the wall, they all told tales of moments shared and memories forged.

The cold tiles of the kitchen felt refreshing against my feet, grounding me in the present. Preparing the bottles became a slow dance of introspection. The trickling sound of the milk, the soft clinking of the bottles; it was a symphony of routine and care. Moonbeams painted the room in silver strokes, illuminating the space with an ethereal glow, making every shadow and reflection seem like whispered secrets.

Pushing the door to the twins' room, a gentle scent of baby lotion and fresh linen greeted me. The room, with its pastel shades and soft toys, was a sanctuary of innocence. The twins, with their soft tufts of hair and rosebud lips, were the beacons of hope in my life. The first twin's eyelashes fluttered open briefly, recognition and trust shining in those depths. As he fed, his tiny hand clasped my finger with such strength that it felt as if he was anchoring me to a brighter future.

As I switched to the second twin, his coos and wriggles reminded me of the simple joys of parenthood. The bond we shared, this unspoken language of love, was a powerful testament to the strength of family. Amidst this tender moment, memories played out like a movie reel - every shared adventure with Wooyoung, every whispered secret, every hurdle overcome.

The weight of my past actions and the depth of my remorse contrasted sharply with the promise of a new day dawning. As I looked around, bathed in the soft luminescence of the room, it became evident that love, when combined with determination, could heal even the deepest of wounds.

Gently laying the baby back into her cot, I couldn't help but get lost in my thoughts for a moment. "You two," I began, my voice quivering slightly with emotion, "are the purest, most beautiful things I've ever known. I'm so honored to be your father." The soft, rhythmic breathing of the twins seemed to echo back in agreement.

Lost in the moment, I was momentarily startled by the faint sound of movement behind me. Turning, I saw Wooyoung, still caught in the web of sleep, slowly making his way into the room. His tousled hair and sleepy eyes made him appear vulnerable, a side of him that always tugged at my heartstrings.

He blinked a few times, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep, and then cast a slightly puzzled gaze around the room. Meeting my eyes, he rasped, "Did I miss a feeding?"

"I already fed them," I whispered softly, turning towards Wooyoung, a subtle curiosity in my eyes. "Why aren't you sleeping?"

He stood there, in the soft glow of the nightlight, eyes still heavy with sleep but filled with a quiet, lingering worry. "Couldn't," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "Not without you beside me."

Our eyes met, and in the silence that followed, a thousand unspoken words seemed to linger, filling the room with a mix of melancholy and hope. There was a vulnerability in his gaze, a reflection of our shared heartaches and the silent promise of better days.