MVV | YG [✔]

06. Beomgyu/Yeonjun

Beomgyu

It was hard to forget your past when it was written all over your body...

In bruises...

In scars...

In tear-stained cheeks...

My childhood was a map of wounds, laid out across my skin. Some years were faded markers—others were more prominent. I felt a little like I was stained with the ink of my father's soul. The words on his tongue were tattoos on my heart. His deadly disposition was trapped beneath my skin, and I worried I'd never be free of it.

For most of my life, I'd thought freedom meant I needed to disappear. Turns out, all I really needed was to be found.

I wrapped my palms around Yeonjun's bathroom sink, chin low but eyes lifted. My hair was overgrown, sweeping my eyelids. There were ugly, gaunt-like splotches beneath my eyes that made me look a little more monster than human. My lips were devoid of color, and I felt them cracking as I opened and closed my mouth.

My chest did something funny beneath the shirt I wore, and my knuckles tightened on the rounded edges of his sink. Nostrils burning, I felt a familiar surge of emotion crash against my lungs, and I inhaled a sharp breath as tears crested the bottoms of my eyes.

The image the mirror projected was one I often avoided. Day after day, it was weakness that stared back at me, and it made me feel sorry for myself.

It made me angry.

Today—now—I only saw strength, and instead of walking away from my reflection, I wanted to step inside of it and give the broken boy I saw a hug.

I sniffed once, using the heel of my palm to dab at any wayward tears slipping down my cheeks. When I straightened, I felt my shoulders tighten and though I wasn't actually a bird; I wore wings, anyway.

Finally, I had a safe place to spread them.

My lungs expanded with my inhale, nostrils flexing as I released the breath. Stepping away from the sink, I brushed my hair out of my eyes and reached for the door handle. It was quiet when it unlatched, and I slipped out into the hallway. My toes curled against the soft fibers of the carpet, and I took a moment to take in my surroundings.

Daddy lived in a quiet house, built from stone and filled with plants. It was surrounded by trees and plains of plush grass, concealed from others but protected by life. His driveway was gravel, and the crunch I heard as his tires rolled down was my new favorite sound.

Home.

I hadn't had one before.

It was only a simple drive from Cheongdam's campus—a mere twenty minutes from those iron gates but I felt a universe away. Like I'd spun the globe and landed somewhere with brighter skies and warmer clouds.

There was oxygen here, and it was maybe the first time I'd been able to breathe without pain.

"Baby bird?"

I followed the sound of his voice, fingers trailing along the wall and the photos he had lining it. Most were landscapes, vivid and detailed enough that I thought I could take my daddy's wings and fly right into one.

There was a simple snapshot in the middle of the adventure. Yeonjun stood proud in military fatigues. A streak of dirt was smeared across his cheek but it didn't dim the smile that spread across his lips. His arm was slung over another man's shoulder, and there was laughter in a set of eyes that looked just like my daddy bird's.

Soobin.

He was taller than Yeonjun by a couple of inches or so, and he clenched the barrel of a rifle tight in his fist. Black smudges stained the skin beneath his eyes, and I sort of liked the idea that wherever Soobin was, Felix was there too.