iris . vkook

fifty

오십

Jeongguk's PoV;

"What are you doing here?" She snarled, personality remaining the same even as he was hooked up to multiple drips and machines, her face bruised black and blue and both hands in casts.

"Came to see you, of course." I muttered, sitting in one of the squeaky hospital chairs, mentally appreciating the way that the orange leather was clean.

"Why?" She scoffed, looking exactly like Jeong-ja as she did.

My mother: Jeon Eun-Kyung.

Originally stood at a short height of 5'2 but shrunk to around 5, 4'12.

Constantly grumpy. Always in a sour mood, grey eyes narrowed into thin slits and glared through long eyelashes.

Had a voice that was so sweet and melodic, that it was almost condescending when she spoke to you.

Long, ebony hair that had greyed at the roots as a result of age, though her face remained free of wrinkles (probably a result of the mass amounts of plastic surgery), and tiny hands that were decorated with pointy nails, painted navy.

"You're my mother, why else?" I replied, scratching below my eye in a subtle attempt to move the green contacts that were pissing me off.

"You're no son of mine." She frowned, looking at me directly in the eyes as she did so, "you're not Jung-hyun."

"I am also your son."

Mother shook her head, "it should've been you that died."

Rubbing my face, I sighed in exasperation.

For the sake of Jeong-ja, I had kept my cool with mother so that the family remained somehow together.

I wasn't trying to rekindle our mother-son bond that we had lost when I was younger, I was simply attempting to keep the peace and stay civil, but this hag was not fucking having it in the slightest.

Not at all.

"Thought you might've said that." I replied.

"With those disgusting eyes." She spoke cruelly, shaking, "god, they give me the creeps."

"Knew you would've said that." I said, essentially repeating myself.

Which happened constantly.

Our conversations were always the same, going something like along the lines of: she'd ask me why I spoke to her, I'd reply, she'd bring up Jung-hyun and how I should've died, brings up my eyes and then I'd try and make conversation with her.

"Jeong-ja and Jiwook broke up, you know." I said after a few seconds of silence, picking at the frays on my jeans, making the rips messier.

"I am aware." She replied bitterly, "I'm glad you broke up with Jisom. He might've knocked a bit of sense into you."

"Oh really?" I questioned, chin on my palm, "how so?"

Yes, the conversation was boring and repetitive.

But, Jeong-ja still had the bond with her mother, and who was I to make it awkward?

"All this homosexuality you speak of." She flailed her hands around, in some poor attempt to explain her reasoning, "he might've made you realise that it's a load of absolute baloney."

"Uh huh, and you think getting beaten up would do that?"

"Well, of course. It'd teach you a good lesson."

Fucking hell.

"I bet it would." I nodded.

Crossing her arms, her face stayed stoic and she remained as defiant as ever.