By The Window | YeonBin

twenty six

Birds chirping and the sound of leaves rustling in the slight morning breeze filled the air.

These were the sounds that woke Yeonjun. His eyes fluttered open, registering the subtle light seeping through his window. The sun hadn't fully risen yet, its gentle rays just beginning to touch the horizon. As he lay there, staring at the ceiling, he wondered why he hadn't noticed these details before.

Have the birds always sounded this gentle in the morning? he thought. The leaves too... the way they brush against each other... it's soothing.

He pushed himself up, sitting on the edge of his bed. His chest felt lighter, as though the usual weight pressing down on him had lessened. There was still an ache—a lingering anxiety that gnawed at him, whispering doubts and questions. Was it real? he wondered.

Did Dad really leave?

The memory of last night played in his mind, his mother's voice steady as she told him what happened. The words were still sinking in, still wrapping themselves around his thoughts like a vine growing through a crack in the wall.

Yeonjun exhaled slowly, shaking off the remnants of sleep. His head didn't feel as heavy, his heart not as burdened. For the first time in a long while, he felt a glimmer of peace. It was fragile, but it was there.

He dressed quickly, pulling on his school uniform and threw his jacket on, slinging his backpack over one shoulder. As he descended the stairs, he braced himself, unsure of what to expect.

At the bottom of the stairs, he paused. The scent of freshly cooked rice and soup reached him, guiding him toward the kitchen. His mom stood at the stove, finishing up the last touches on a simple breakfast. When she heard his footsteps, she turned around, surprised.

"Oh, you're early," she said, her voice soft yet carrying a note of surprise.

Yeonjun blinked, taking in the scene. It was such a normal thing, a mother making breakfast for her child, yet it felt unfamiliar to him. There was still tension between them, an unspoken awkwardness that lingered in the air.

But beneath that, there was something new, something he hadn't felt in a long time—a sense of warmth, of home.

She hesitated, then offered, "I made some breakfast. Do you want to join me?"

In the past, Yeonjun might have refused, preferring to avoid the awkwardness that always seemed to hang between them. But today, something made him pause. Why not? he thought.

"Sure," he replied.

He walked over and sat down at the small table, putting his bag down, watching as she set down bowls of rice, soup, and some side dishes. It was simple, but the effort she put into it was clear.

He picked up his spoon, taking a bite of the rice. The warm food filled his stomach, grounding him.

They ate in silence for a while, the quiet only broken by the clinking of chopsticks against bowls. But it wasn't an uncomfortable silence—it was... peaceful, in a way.

As they continued eating, his mom glanced up at him, her expression thoughtful. She seemed to be searching for the right words, and after a moment, she spoke.

"So... that friend of yours, Soobin," she began, carefully, as if testing the waters. "You two seem close."

Yeonjun paused, mid-bite, looking up at her. There was no judgment in her tone, just curiosity and perhaps something else.

He nodded slowly. "Yeah... we are."

A small smile tugged at the corners of her lips. "He seems like a good person. Maybe... you could bring him over sometime? I'd like to make a meal for him, to thank him properly."

Yeonjun blinked, surprised by the suggestion. It was such a simple offer, but it meant so much more coming from her. She was trying—really trying to connect with him, to rebuild the relationship that had been frayed for so long.

He considered her words, feeling the sincerity behind them. A part of him wanted to say no, to retreat back into the walls he'd built around himself. But another part, a part that had grown since Soobin came into his life, urged him to take the chance.

"Okay," he said, his voice quiet but firm. "I'll bring him over."

His mom's smile widened slightly, and they continued eating, the silence between them now filled with a new sense of understanding. It was just the beginning, but for the first time in a long while, Yeonjun felt like maybe things could get better.