Kpop boyxboy/mpreg one shots

I'm Not That Cruel Pt.8 *Showki

I'm Not That Cruel Pt. 8

A familiarity sense of nostalgia plagues Shownu's entire conscious. He hadn't been back here in so long. The last time he was here he was still his old self, and had no clue of his future.

Uncertainty hover on top of his cloud that weighted like ton of bricks, threatening to spill and drag him with it. Shownu, before knocking, contemplated whether she would open or not. They weren't on a fight, neither did she despise him. That would never occur inside her mind. Shownu was sure of it.

Lately, though, he had ignored her calls so he wondered if she would ignore him which she tends to do when she's upset with him.

And it's clearly she's not since he's sitting down on her old, blue worn out couch that he remembers he used to sit in forever when they were younger.

After the incident with his father, he wanted to go see Kihyun. Maybe his hug would help him clear his head, and assure him that he wouldn't turn out like his father.

Shownu knew that wasn't an option for him, despite him wanting it so bad, so instead he went to the person who would understand him, and help him clear his head. Not only that. He really, really missed his best friend.

An Imposing smile carved itself onto his mouth. His eyebrows arched, impression on his mind. She still kept the picture of them, unconsciously throwing their head back while abundance of warm colors stretched behind them.

Gosh. They were so young, his immature self still not developed. He almost wanted to cry. Despite the the events that led after that, ripping their worlds apart, he still wanted to go back and live the life where he didn't have things to worry about, and the only thing on his mind was what kind of future his life would be.

Not wanting to look anymore, he cocks his head to the left, his eyes landing on a picture frame of her 11 month old daughter, her little hands playing on some toys on the ground. There's nostalgia creeping in. Suddenly, Shownu wishes she's back here to keep him away from his thoughts.

Not having been back in less than five minutes, his friend, Leticia, has been taking a long time in the kitchen.

He was almost about to call her when she emerges from the door, two glasses of coke in her hand. Shownu takes one once she's right next to him.

"You haven't been answering my calls," she comments, placing her drink on the small, rectangle table.

"I know. There's been a lot going on," he says, chugging his drink, afraid of cracking his voice

"Is it your father?" Shownu nods, Leticia mimicking his gesture.

Leticia knew all about his father, of what type of person he was, the things that have scarred Shownu mentally. She had been there the night of the accident, the night his mother and sister died, her hands on his cheeks while he cried, drowning his emotions into a poodle of pain and loss.

"He, uh, wants me to do the same thing he told me to do a few years ago," he lets himself say out loud, weighing the causes of his words. He hears Leticia hold in a breath, a gasp following after, echoing into his fragile, whimpering heart.

"You're having kids?"

"Three actually," Shownu adds, a smile hidden behind the sadness of his voice.

"Triplets," she whispers back, this time picking up her drink and slowly taking a sip from the glass.

Memory lane is swirling to his conscious, that night present on their minds. This conversation was held seven years, suggestions they did not want to have, yet it was a must that they did.