Almost blind | Haobin

11| forced regret |11

"Where have you two been? Your match should've ended two hours ago!" Matthew's voice echoed through the house as he hurried to the hallway, drawn by the sound of the front door creaking open.

He expected to see his son and husband walk in together, perhaps tired but triumphant. Instead, only Hanbin stood there, drenched from head to toe. Rainwater dripped from his sodden clothes, forming small puddles on the floor, as he bent to wrestle with his soaked shoes.

Matthew's chest tightened. "Where's Gyuvin?" he asked, his tone sharp with concern. He stepped closer, helping Hanbin peel off his clammy hoodie, the fabric cold and heavy like a forgotten memory.

Hanbin didn't look up. His face was set in a scowl, water droplets clinging to his hair like misplaced tears. "I don't know," he muttered, his voice rough, as though the words had been dragged through gravel. He slung his damp backpack onto the ground with a thud.

"What do you mean you don't know?" Matthew's brow furrowed, worry gnawing at the edges of his patience.

Scooping up the wet hoodie, Matthew marched toward the living room, draping it over the radiator with a determined flick of his wrist. The heat from the radiator hissed softly, a stark contrast to the icy chill that hung around Hanbin.

"You're soaked to the bone! Are you trying to get sick?" Matthew chided, spinning around to find Hanbin lingering in the doorway like a shadow. "Don't you dare step in here like that. Strip off those wet clothes. Now."

Hanbin hesitated, but a sharp glance from Matthew sent him trudging off to his room to change. Moments later, clad in dry, warm clothes, he returned to find his father seated on the couch, his expression demanding answers.

Hanbin dropped onto the couch with a weary sigh, his movements sluggish, like a puppet weighed down by the rain. "He left me," he said bluntly, his words cutting through the silence like a knife.

Matthew's expression shifted from concern to disbelief. "He left you? Alone? Where did he go? Why didn't you call me?" His voice rose with every question, his hands gesturing wildly, betraying the storm brewing inside him.

"I don't know where he went!" Hanbin snapped back, his frustration spilling over. "I tried calling him, but he didn't pick up. He just... left. Disappeared. And by the time you'd have come to get me, I'd already be home, so I walked."

Matthew ran a hand through his hair, his worry deepening like a crack spreading through glass. "Where could he have gone?" he muttered, pulling out his phone. He dialed Gyuvin's number, his fingers trembling slightly.

"I dont know but he is acting like a total idio-"
"-Hanbin," Matthew's gaze and sharp tone stopped his harsh semtence.

The line rang and rang, each unanswered tone pounding against Matthew's nerves. "Maybe someone called him from work," he said suddenly, scrolling through his contacts.

Hanbin scoffed, crossing his arms. "Work? Seriously? He's a psychologist, dad, not a firefighter. He doesn't get emergency calls, especially not at night." His sarcasm only fanned the flames of Matthew's anxiety.

"You're not helping," Matthew shot back, dialing one of Gyuvin's colleagues. When they picked up, their answers only added to the mystery. Gyuvin wasn't at work, his office locked tight, it was clear he wasnt there.

Matthew hung up, his hand sliding down his face as dread pooled in his stomach. "This isn't like him. What if-what if something's happened? What if-"

"-what if he's with someone else?" Hanbin cut in, his tone biting.

"Hanbin!" Matthew snapped, his voice echoing like a whip crack. His eyes blazed with anger and hurt. "How dare you talk about your father like that?"

Hanbin shrugged, unbothered. "He's been acting weird lately. I wouldn't be surprised."