Almost blind | Haobin

66| and now everyone knows |66

"Why are they taking so long? Where the hell are they?" Hao's voice cracked with impatience as he pressed his forehead against the cold glass of the window. His breath fogged the pane, blurring the empty street outside. He scanned left, right...nothing. Not even Ricky's familiar car lights in the distance. Not Gyuvin. Not anyone.

His chest tightened. Hanbin would be home any minute and the silence outside gnawed at him like teeth. He dug his fingers into his scalp, clutching his head as though that pressure could push the panic away.

Yujin, sprawled in the corner with his phone useless in his hands, finally muttered, "What do we even do now? If his parents don't show up, if Ricky doesn't show up... this whole thing-" He broke off with a frustrated groan, tossing the phone onto the couch as though it was to blame.

Gunwook stood with his arms folded tight across his chest, silent but heavy with judgment, while Kuanjui rolled his eyes, the way he always did when adults messed up. "What did you expect? They're adults. And adults? They're late. Always late. Never count on them."

Hao exhaled sharply and dropped into the nearest chair, the weight of his body sinking deep as if the cushions could swallow his irritation. His eyes darted around the room: the cake, the streamers hanging like restless shadows against the ceiling, the neatly wrapped gifts lined like soldiers on the table. Everything was ready. Perfect. Prepared. And yet nothing was right, because the people who mattered most were nowhere to be found.

He had tried calling them but the phone only mocked him with silence. Not a single answer. Not even Ricky. The unanswered rings hung in his head like an echo of abandonment.

"What am I supposed to do now?" Hao muttered under his breath, more to himself than anyone else. The silence that followed was unbearable, heavy like a curtain drawn over their small gathering.

Suddenly faint at first but growing-came the low hum of an engine, a car approaching. Tires whispered against the road. The sound made Hao shoot to his feet. His pulse leapt, too fast. "They're here?" Hao's voice trembled, caught between relief and dread.

Gunwook hurried to the window, his broad shoulders blocking the light as he peered out. A second later, he spun around, eyes wide. "It's Hanbin!"

"Shit," Hao hissed under his breath. His stomach dropped as panic surged through him. Hanbin was home, walking right into the mess. Everything erupted at once. Chairs scraped the floor, footsteps stumbled in different directions. Yujin darted to shove stray wrappers under the couch, Gunwook started straightening the table, and Kuanjui muttered curses as he yanked down a streamer that had fallen crooked.

Hao, pulse hammering in his ears, moved to the center of the room and snapped off the lights. The house fell into darkness, only the faint glow of the streetlamps seeping through the curtains. "Quiet," Hao whispered fiercely, his voice carrying the sharp edge of command. His eyes burned in the darkness, locked on the door where footsteps were already drawing closer. After a few more seconds, the door creaked open and there was no one else but Hanbin himself.

"I'm home!" he called. His voice lifting into the stillness with forced brightness, as though the word itself could summon life into the space. But the sound did not bounce back the way it usually did. There was no echo of laughter from the living room, no hurried footsteps rushing to greet him, no muffled clatter of dishes from the kitchen.

Hanbin paused, his confident stride faltering into cautious steps. He frowned, the corners of his mouth tightening as unease prickled the back of his neck. The house was draped in darkness, shadows crouching in every corner. The only sound was the soft click of the door behind him and the faint hum of the refrigerator somewhere in the kitchen. No Ricky, no Hao, no Gyuvin... It was too quiet...unnaturally so.