pellucid. + jhs.

ershiba

SEOKJIN and jae's mother has not been letting her out of their sight ever since her confession.

she wonders where hoseok is now, and if he's doing alright. she hopes he understands why she's not speaking to him yet.

after hours of being inside her room, her throat became deathly dry, prompting her to travel to the kitchen for some cool liquid.

when she placed her two feet on the dining area, she saw her mother and—dr. choi?

"i don't know how this came about.. i... i don't know what to do mr. choi, i feel a failure of a mother. it's all my fault."

she heard her mother start to sniffle.
dr. choi pats her shoulder.

"it's okay... you're not a failure, you are doing the best you can... you don't have to tell me the whole story..."

"no! no.. no, i can. you see... these two men.."

she holds up two pictures, which jae can perfectly see from where she was standing. her eyebrows furrowed when seeing the portraits.

"they... ruined our life—they ruined jae's life! and they are the reason for my first daughter's d—"

dr. choi stares up at jae. she unconsciously moved closer to the table. he smiles lightly.

"j–jae, sweetheart, you're out of your room already?"

her mother immediately turns around, upon hearing her daughter's name. she put down the two pictures on the table, and caressed jae's arms.

"honey, do you need somet—"

"mother, you lied."

her mother's expression dropped to a puzzled one, "w–what do you mean?"

"you told me hoseok doesn't exist, but look here..."

she frees herself of her mother's grip, and picks up the portrait of a brown-haired boy, with a small, winning smile.

"you have a picture of him. you knew he existed, why did you tell me he didn't?"

her mother's face turned into the color of milk.