Almost blind | Haobin

68| night visit |68

The past few days had been nothing short of madness-truly, a whirlwind that left every corner of the house vibrating with tension.

Ever since Hanbin and Hao made their reckless decision to "run away" for the night, everything at home shifted into a strange silence. Ricky and Gyuvin greeted their return with cold stares and heavy quiet, the kind of silence that didnt just fill a room but weighed down the air until breathing itself felt uncomfortable.

As much as the two boys longed to remain hidden away in the treehouse...where it was fragile sanctuary built of creaking wood and the comfort of each other's presence...they both knew reality would catch up. They couldn't remain out there forever. Staying too long would only stir more suspicion and besides, sleeping on wooden planks night after night was no real way to live.

Not that they had been sleeping at all. That night had been a blur of tangled limbs and whispered confessions, soft kisses blooming into something hungrier, their laughter muffled under blankets, their voices breaking into moans that lasted until dawn crept between the boards of the treehouse. By the time they returned home, they carried with them a closeness so intense it felt impossible they could ever be more connected..yet somehow, they were.

But stepping back into the house snapped that dream in half. The air was sharp with awkwardness. The birthday party had collapsed into chaos in their absence and now Kuanjui and Gunwook were flooding their phones with messages, desperate to know if everything was fine. Hanbin and Hao hadn't bothered replying, hadn't even thought of it. At that moment, nothing beyond each other had mattered.

Matthew, unwilling to marinate in the heavy atmosphere, retreated to the hotel he had booked. Yujin, already half detached from the household, had quietly moved into an apartment he paid for monthly, no longer needing the house or the drama it contained. Which meant that when Hao and Hanbin finally stepped back through the door, only Ricky and Gyuvin remained here...and their anger was worse than before.

They weren't simply upset. They were furious. Furious because the two had vanished without a word, stolen Gyuvin's car after drinking, and worst of all.. because of what they had seen. The things that could no longer be denied, no matter how desperately Hao and Hanbin wanted it.

The worst part wasn't just the arguments themselves..it was the repetition. They had already fought multiple times since returning home, each clash ending the same way: Hao shut inside his room, Hanbin locked away in his. Not because they wanted distance but because Ricky and Gyuvin demanded it, as if separating them would somehow extinguish the fire burning between them.

It felt humiliating. Hao wasn't a child anymore in few days and neither was Hanbin. They were nearly grown men, yet they were being torn apart and disciplined as though they had snuck out like reckless teenagers. Hao's chest burned with anger at the absurdity of it all and yet, the longer the shouting continued, the more powerless he felt. He had argued until his voice trembled but Ricky and Gyuvin hadn't been listening. They hadn't wanted to listen. Every exchange had collapsed into nothing but raised voices, each word sharp as broken glass, leaving Hao feeling cut to pieces.

By the time the last door slammed, he was shaking. He had collapsed onto his bed, burying his face deep into the pillow as though he could hide from the world there. His tears had already soaked through the fabric, leaving dark patches that clung coldly to his skin. He hated himself for crying, hated how small and fragile he felt. Every tear seemed to remind him of his own helplessness.

He should have been stronger. He should have been able to stand tall. But instead, he lay curled on the mattress, chest heaving, his body drained of every last ounce of fight. He didnt even have the energy to reach for his phone, to distract himself, to pretend for a moment that things were normal. His hands only gripped tighter onto the pillow, holding it as though it might somehow become Hanbin.