Kissing the Demon (Seoksoo)

Seokmin

"Mom, which window did you say was sticking?"

She didn't answer, no doubt unable to hear me over the sound of the frying pan and Saturday Morning Kitchen on the TV. I was crammed into my childhood bedroom, my bulky frame making the space feel smaller than when I was a teenager. When I arrived in the valleys for my monthly visit late last night, Mom dropped into our conversation that she'd been unable to open one of the windows. I'd been shattered after the long drive, so I'd left it until this morning. After opening and closing each window with ease, I sighed before heading downstairs.

"The windows are fine, Mom," I said, brushing a kiss over her cheek. Her signature scent of talcum powder mixed with lavender gave me the expected hit of nostalgia.

"That's strange," she said absently, her attention on the breakfast. "Mind you, it's been a while since I've tried it."

I bit my tongue to stop myself from reminding her for the thousandth time that I was only a phone call away. The same thing happened during my last visit, but that time, it was some loose roofing tiles. Like with the windows, they'd all been fine when I'd climbed up there. After puzzling with her about what must've happened, I finally got her to admit she'd first noticed it three months before. As she had a mid-terraced house, it made sense that one of the neighbours would've fixed it when updating their own. I'd still read her the riot act about not telling me sooner. The ensuing guilt trip she delivered about me living so far away had me not wanting to do it again any time soon.

Dropping into a chair at the table, I bit back a groan at the overspilling plate of food Mom slid in front of me. Fried eggs, sausages, bacon, black pudding, beans, and hash browns...all my favourite things that I absolutely should not eat unless I wanted to add a few extra pounds. "Mom, I told you I'm trying to cut back on the greasy food."

"Psh. Less of that, Lee Seokmin." She slid a cup of tea in front of me before bustling back to the stove. "Breakfast doesn't count."

I stood and steered her towards the table. "Stop waiting on me and sit down, woman."

"I can't help it," she said, her eyes misty as I returned from the kitchen holding her plate of food. "I feel like I hardly see you these days. You can't blame me for wanting to spoil you a little when I do."

"I come home every month," I reminded gently. I should've known that even without nagging her about the window, the guilt would've worked its way in. "You know it's hard for me with work."

"I know," she said, her shoulders slumped. "You just live so far away, that's all."

Reaching across the table, I rubbed my fingers over the back of her hand until she looked up. At only five foot two, I'd towered over her since I hit fifteen. Her tight dark curls had more lines of silver than a year ago and her laugh lines were deeper at the corners of her eyes. There was no denying she was still a beauty though. While I'd inherited her love of Marvel and her caretaker personality, the only physical attribute she'd given me was her hazel eyes.

Everything else I'd inherited from a man I'd struck from my memories. I couldn't help but wonder if Mom ever found it painful, me looking so much like him. Some days I couldn't look at myself in the mirror without seeing him staring back. It was rough enough for me, but for Mom? To look at someone you loved and see reflections of someone you hated?

I couldn't imagine how hard that must be for her.

"Maybe you could move down closer to me?" I suggested, already knowing how this conversation would go. I'd been trying to persuade her to relocate since I landed the job at Redbridge. It wasn't like working at the school was my dream job, but I couldn't deny that I loved being in a city. There wasn't a single part of me that wanted to move back to the valleys. Especially not when my brain was still fixated on a certain man I hadn't seen in over six months...