Don't Blame Me || Jeongcheol

Chapter 54

The night stretched long and quiet, the kind of silence that settled deep into the bones. Streetlights flickered outside, casting pale shadows through the window, stretching across the worn furniture and scuffed floorboards.

Jeonghan sat on the couch, fingers absentmindedly combing through Haneul’s soft hair. The boy had fallen asleep curled into his side, his tiny breaths warm against Jeonghan’s ribs.

Across the room, Jeonghwa sat with the stuffed rabbit cradled in her lap, her thumb stroking its fabric in slow, thoughtful motions.

Seungcheol stood near the doorway, arms crossed, eyes dark with thought. He had been quiet for days now, retreating into a silence that felt heavier than usual. Not distant in anger or frustration.. no, this was something else.

Jeonghan knew that look.

A hesitance, a deliberation. Jeonghan had known Seungcheol long enough to recognize when he was weighing something carefully before deciding to say it out loud.

And then, at last, Seungcheol exhaled, voice softer than usual.

“We should move.”

Jeonghan’s fingers stilled against Haneul’s hair. He looked up, eyes narrowing slightly. “What?”

Seungcheol didn’t back down. “This place… It’s not where we should be raising him. Not just him.” He glanced toward Jeonghwa, whose fingers tightened slightly around the rabbit, she knew that were talking about her though she didn’t say anything. “We should leave the headquarters behind. Find somewhere quieter.”

Jeonghan let out a short, humorless laugh. “And go where, exactly?”

“A real home.” Seungcheol said simply. “Somewhere that doesn’t have bloodstains hidden under the floorboards. Somewhere Haneul can run outside without us worrying about who’s watching.”

Jeonghan’s jaw tightened.

It wasn’t the first time the thought had crossed his mind. There were nights too many of them where he stared at the ceiling, wondering if this was the life he really wanted for his son. For all of them. But leaving wasn’t as simple as just walking away.

“You’re serious.” Jeonghan muttered.

Seungcheol sighed, stepping further into the room. “Of course I’m serious. Look, I know what you’re thinking. I know what this place means to us. What it meant to me. But we’re not those people anymore, Jeonghan. Not really.”

Jeonghan’s grip tightened on the couch. “And the gang?”

Seungcheol tilted his head, studying him. “What about it?”

Jeonghan scoffed, shaking his head. “You really think we can just walk away? What about your members?"

Seungcheol’s jaw tightened, but his voice remained steady. “I don’t care about that anymore. They’ll understand.”

“That’s naive.”

“No." Seungcheol corrected, stepping closer. “It’s knowing what actually matters now.”

His voice was firm but not unkind.

Jeonghan clenched his jaw. He wanted to argue, wanted to push back but a part of him knew Seungcheol was right.

Seungcheol’s expression was steady. “We’ve done worse things and survived. They will understand.”

“That’s not the point.”

“Then what is?” Seungcheol challenged. “Because if you’re going to tell me it’s loyalty, we both know that’s bullshit. The only people that matter to us anymore are right here.”