The Bangtan Boys ||| BTS and GOT7 Mafia AU

09

"Why did you take me to Namsan Park?" I was sitting on the edge of a water fountain next to Namjoon.

He was staring at his hands for a few seconds before he answered.  "When I was a child my parents were always working, doing something illegal. Your dad was my only parental figure. He used t-"

I hopped off fountain quickly. "I don't want to hear this. Take me home."

Namjoon looked at me, his eyes wide with surprise. "I'm sorry, I thought this would help somehow."

I scoffed. "Telling me about a childhood you experienced for me won't help with the fact I never got to enjoy one with my father. Take me home."

"For what? For you to mope in your room all day and for you to never come out?"

Hyun frowned at him. The last few weeks had been very overwhelming. "Don't yell at me," she barked at him, tears pooling in her eye.

"You can't build up all your emotions hopping they'll go away. Humans don't work like that. You don't work like that. Just cry, you don't have to be strong all the time." 

Hyun let the tears come. "At my fathers funeral, there were people who I had never met. I knew only my mother and fathers sister. I heard the stories of the time these people spent with my father, all more than I had ever. I know he tried to, but I got so angry that he put his work first that I didn't cry over his death. I was angry at him.

I feel guilty for being angry, as everyone told stories and the sides of my father I never knew. I was seventeen and I realized I knew hardly anything about him. I knew his favorite color, but I didn't know the song he would hum to when he was bored. I didn't know the way he ate his kit kats. I felt cheated out of a father when he died." A few seconds passed between them.

Namjoon handed Hyun a handkerchief. "Thank you."

"You've been holding that in for a long time?" He asked. Hyun nodded.

"Ever since his funeral. I remember you there. You're the boy was bunched over his coffin crying. You helped carried him. Your parents handed something to my mother - a envelope."

"It contained money. Their apology for his death." He looked and saw the growing anger in my eyes.

"I told you they weren't nice people," he clasped his hands together, "next time we come here, I will tell you about my parents. Your father took me her when I needed to let out things I didn't want to talk about."

He stood up, "Now let's go home. Desserts ready."