He was a patient man.
He wouldn't mind to wait for the right time to reap what he thought he deserved.
He had lived in the dark for far too long, that happiness was such a foreign notion for him.
Until you crossed his path and awakened something dee...
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"Why don't you leave him?"
His mother paused from chopping the garlic, shooting him a confuse look, furrowing her thick defined brows. Taehyung had always admired his mother's elegant features that she was born naturally with. Kim Binna was very beautiful, and she bequeathed her traits to her only son.
"Who?"
"Abeoji. Who else?"
She slipped the chopped garlic onto the saucepan, before continued with the beef. It was silence before she spoke amidst the sound of knife hitting the wooden board.
"It wasn't a good life in Seoul. I want something more. Something that only he could give it to you. You need a father figure for your future."
"I don't need him. When he doesn't teach me how to use guns or blades, he's gone with one of the many women he has. We are not even a normal family here. When was the last time he took you out for a holiday? Or buying a gift for you? Granted, he gives you all the money we need, but is this really the life that you want?"
It was quiet again, only the soft whirring of the refrigerator filling up the room while she sliced the meat, before she put down the santoku knife, and looking at him with inscrutable look.
"We can have fun by ourself if that's what you want. How about fly to Seoul instead? We can go for ice skating and skiing. It's been a long time."
"Eom-ma, that's not the point here. And no, I can't go. Abeoji wants to take me to Norway sometime in next week. Something about work and a bit of pleasure he said. I'm talking about, ... divorce -actually. You don't look happy with him."
Moving to the wash basin, she started to rinse the bellpepper while spoke in a weak tone.
"You are fifteen. You don't understand now, but you will, someday. Love is not something easy to comprehend." She avoided his gaze on her, busying herself with washing the vegetables that already looked squeaky clean for him.
"He doesn't deserve your love."
"Everyone deserves to be loved and to feel love. No one has the right to judge, sometimes you only look at one side of the story."
"Even a blind man can see what kind of man he is. We can do better than this. Let's go back to Seoul. I'll work hard so I can provide for both of us." It was such a wishful thinking, even he knew that. And she knew that too. But sometimes having hope to live another life than the one he had right now was addictively beguiling.
The loud skirl of stainless bowl dragged on the sink was the thing that silenced him. Her mother's eyes nailed upon him dejectedly.
"Seoul was hell for me, Tae. You remember how we always struggled to pay for your school? How you asked for chicken when I could only buy tofu and veggies for us? Halmeoni died because we couldn't afford treatment for her. I was juggling between work at the bar and the garment factory, barely able to take care of you. We were alone back then, and it wasn't any better than in here."
He knew his mother's obstinacy, it was fruitless if he insisted while she thought she already made her point. She was drowning in her own mind while cooking, didn't say anything further. Taehyung tried to distract himself with his phone for fifteen minutes, before a plate of japchae was put in front of him. His mother was quick to turn around and continue with dishwashing.
"This tastes different. Did you change the recipe?"
"I omitted the mirin. The latest batch of ingredients I ordered hasn't arrived. Is it not good?"
He picked up another forkful of the noodle, the fragrant sweet smell of brown sugar combined with garlic, honey and soysauce reminded him of their old life in Seoul. They were poor, and everyday was a struggle for both of them, but back then happiness wasn't too complicated to perceive like now. Back then it was simple. He was happy when he got to eat the food that he liked, he was sad when he saw his mother came home at dawn extremely exhausted from her work at the club. While now, even looking at his mother wrapped in Marni or Loro Piana didn't make him too happy, although somehow there was some kind of relief to know she didn't have to work her fingers to the bone.
"It's still good, just ... different."
She looked at him with a small smile on her pink lips, the first one for the past hour he sat in the kitchen with her.
"You can learn to love like that too. Looking at things in different way, but still savor whatever value it could offer."
"Even when your love is one-sided?" It was a petty innuendo from his side to her. In all honesty, he couldn't blame her, but sometimes he also thought it was unfortunate for his mother to be born in the conventional asian culture. Career and family heritage were always became the utmost importance to define a person's life.
Her smile next was tinged with sorrow that she always tried to mask in front of her son, just like all the time she spent living with her imposing husband.
"Even the unrequited one. It will still be better than to feel nothing."
