Almost blind | Haobin

19| beauty of elegance |19

"Do you need anything else, Dad?" Hanbin asked, his voice hesitant as he placed a pack of tissues on the coffee table in front of Matthew. The man was slouched on the couch, his sanctuary and prison for the past few days since Gyuvin had left. The living room had become his refuge, though it felt more like a cage, the air thick with unspoken grief.

Hanbin had tried, again and again, to convince him to move to a proper bed but Matthew refused, unable to face the void in the bedroom where he and Gyuvin once lay side by side, where whispered promises had turned to silent betrayal. His refusal frustrated Hanbin but also filled him with worry. His father seemed like a shadow of himself, hunched over his laptop, drowning in work. The vibrant, hyperactive man who had once filled their home with light was gone, replaced by someone who barely ate, barely spoke, and never smiled.

Gyuvin had called Hanbin the day he left. The phone rang and rang, but Hanbin refused to pick it up. He couldn't. And he didn't tell Matthew about it either. Some secrets were better left buried.

"I'm fine," Matthew mumbled, eyes glued to his laptop screen. The dim glow of the device cast harsh shadows on his tired face, accentuating the hollows beneath his eyes.

Hanbin sighed heavily and sank onto the couch beside him. "I'm worried about you," he admitted softly, his gaze falling to Matthew's trembling hands as they moved mechanically over the keyboard, searching for purpose in the chaos of his mind.

"I swear," Hanbin began, his voice shaking with barely restrained anger, "when I see dad...or especially Ricky-"

"Hanbin," Matthew cut him off, his hand pressing gently but firmly on his son's thigh. "It's not Ricky's fault. Its not fair talk about him like this."

"It isn't?" Hanbin snapped, his eyes blazing. "He's the reason dad left. How can you defend him? It's his fault-more than anyone else's!" He ran a hand through his hair in frustration, his voice breaking. "And even though it's not fair... it makes me so damn mad. Especially when I see you like this, struggling because of that stupid man."

Matthew looked away, his lips tightening. Hanbin's words cut deeper than he intended, but they were rooted in love and fear. "Gyuvin isn't stupid," Matthew said quietly, his voice steady but hollow, like an empty house echoing with old memories. He reached for a tissue and wiped his nose, his hands trembling slightly.

Hanbin rolled his eyes, the frustration boiling over again. "Oh, yeah, poor guy. At least he told you about him and Ricky before he left. Maybe you should get on your knees and thank him for that!" The sarcasm in his voice was biting, but underneath it was a rawness that Matthew could feel in his bones.

Hanbin sighed, his breath heavy with concern, as he looked at his father. When he spoke, his voice was softer, stripped of the frustration from before. "I think... maybe you should try to think about something else," he said hesitantly, as if searching for the right words to breach the walls his father had built around himself. "What if we went for a walk? Just you and me. It might help you clear your head."

Hanbin's lips curled into a faint, hopeful smile, but the sadness in his eyes betrayed his attempt at optimism. Matthew mirrored his son's expression, his own smile barely holding its weight. "That sounds nice," he murmured, his voice low and fragile. He glanced at the clock on the wall, its ticking loud in the heavy silence. "But you've got your basketball match today. Remember? We can go after you come back home."

The mention of the game made Hanbin's weak smile vanish. He let out a long sigh and shook his head. "I'm not going," he said firmly. "I don't want to leave you here alone. It's just another game, like all the others."

Matthew's eyes shot up from the laptop he'd been pretending to work on, and for the first time in days, there was a spark of energy in his voice. "Don't you dare," he said sharply, closing the laptop and setting it aside. "You are not going to miss that game because of me." He straightened his posture, forcing an air of authority he hadn't displayed in what felt like an eternity. "I'm a grown man, Hanbin. I can handle myself."