stable love

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Hobi guided Bogum to his room, his touch gentle as he seated him on the bed. He took Bogum's hands in his, his eyes filled with love and concern, and sat beside him, his voice soft.

"I won't ask what happened. I can see it in your eyes, something's wrong. And I know you won't tell me... yet." Bogum's gaze dropped, tears welling up, but Hobi's words were a balm to his soul.

"But know this, I'm here for you, always. We'll face everything together, as one." Hobi's thumbs caressed Bogum's hands, his touch reassuring.

Bogum's tears spilled over, but Hobi's gentle wipes soothed his cheeks. "Stop crying love. Give me your beautiful smile." Bogum's lips curved, a small, tremulous smile.

Hobi's heart swelled with love. "Now, freshen up, and change out of those office clothes. I'll cook something for us." He kissed Bogum's forehead, his lips lingering, before heading to the kitchen, leaving Bogum feeling cherished and protected.

As the scalding water cascaded down Bogum's body, he shuddered, his skin erupting in goosebumps. Tears burst forth from his eyes, and he surrendered to anguish, his cries echoing through the bathroom. Memories of Young-jae's violation flooded his mind, the sensation of his(young -jae's) nose grinding against his neck making his skin crawl.

Bogum's gaze fell upon his reflection, and he fixated on his neck, as if the trauma was etched onto his skin. Self-loathing consumed him, and he frantically scrubbed the area with a scrubber, tears streaming down his face. The physical pain was nothing compared to the emotional torment that ravaged his soul.

His neck reddened, and the scrubber slipped from his grasp as he collapsed onto the floor, his body wracked with sobs. The anguish was suffocating, a crushing weight that threatened to consume him whole.

The bathroom, once a sanctuary, had become a torture chamber, where the memories of his violation haunted him, and his own reflection served as a painful reminder of his trauma.

Bogum composed himself after the emotional breakdown, emerging from the shower with a renewed sense of calm. He slipped into a comfortable pair of long pajamas and a matching t-shirt, the soft fabric a gentle caress on his skin.

At the dressing table, he attempted to conceal the evidence of his tears, carefully applying a hint of makeup to mask his swollen eyes and sagging face. A gentle pat of body lotion later, he gazed at his reflection, a blank expression on his face as he laughed at himself, a quiet, mirthless sound.

As he entered the dining room, he spotted Hobi setting the table, his movements efficient and graceful. Bogum approached him, his footsteps quiet, and Hobi sensed his presence, turning to offer a warm smile.

With a gentle gesture, Hobi pulled out a chair for Bogum, who settled into it with a soft smile, his eyes meeting Hobi's in a moment of tender connection.

The atmosphere was filled with a sense of warmth and comfort, a feeling of being enveloped in a safe haven, where love and care could heal the deepest wounds.

Hobi sat beside Bogum, serving food onto both their plates. With tender gestures, Hobi began feeding Bogum by hand, their eyes locked in a loving gaze. Bogum's emotions threatened to surface, but he struggled to maintain control. In a gentle reversal, Bogum took chopsticks and started feeding Hobi, their hands touching as they shared a silent, intimate moment.

The only sounds in the dining room were the soft clinking of utensils against plates. After finishing their meal, Hobi instructed Bogum to rest, offering to handle the dishes. Bogum protested, but Hobi insisted, revealing his plan to stay overnight.

Bogum expressed concern about Hobi's mother's potential disapproval, but Hobi's firm tone brooked no argument. "You're done speaking, now go and rest. I'll come after finishing this work." Bogum, sensing Hobi's unwavering resolve, reluctantly retreated from the room.