𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐬𝐤𝐲 ☾︎ binwoo

C H P - 33 | | E N D

"But, Moonbin, trust me when I say..."

----

"So go ahead and get your things together," Jihoon concluded kindly, his grin dripping with genuine satisfaction. He always managed to impress himself with how good he was at thinking on the fly; and this plan, well, it was impeccable.

While Jihoon may have been feeling content with the situation, however, Moonbin was feeling somewhat different. He sat back in his leather chair, absolutely stunned at the words that this kind man had said to him. He was shocked to the point that his body had frozen in place, that both his heart and his lungs had stopped functioning. "Huh...?" he managed to squeak out.

The only things he could register were two broken phrases: 'plane tomorrow' and 'back home.'

"Moonbin?" His mother, being the caring woman she always had been, placed a hand on his shoulder, yet she became just as frozen as he was when the male suddenly snapped out of his haze. He rushed out of his seat in a hurry, and it just about toppled over with how fast he moved. "Moonbin?" she tried again, her voice meek with a mix of worry and confusion. He had really given her a scare.

"Thank you...! Thank you so much!"

The pinkette raced over to the side of Jihoon's wooden desk, where he then got down on his knees and groveled. "Thank you!" Before he knew it, he was a sobbing wreck. His tears weren't sad this time, though. Instead, they were tears of genuine gratitude and excitement; they were tears that made his heart constrict the same way his lover back at home did. "Thank you!" He tried to say the words a dozen times more--as many times as his body would allow him to--but the welling emotions soon became too much.

"Hey..." Jihoon whispered, not sure whether he should try to comfort the male or simply allow him to cry. He wasn't skilled in this kind of thing; it wasn't often that people displayed their vulnerability in front of him. "Hey, don't thank me..." He slid out of his chair and carefully kneeled beside the other, figuring it would be better if they were on the same level. "Don't cry..." He knew he should have said something more than that, something that would keep Moonbin from crying as harshly as he was, but the words he was in the midst of preparing caught in his throat when the wailing pinkette threw himself into his arms.

"Thank you, thank you..."

Not having any idea if he should hug back or not, Jihoon hesitantly hovered his hands over the male's back. He shot a nervous glance up at Moonbin's mother, yet he groaned inwardly when she did nothing but smile at him. "Oh jeez," he found himself muttering, wrapping his arms around the pinkette's torso.

"Thank you, thank you..." The words continued on in a broken chorus of sobbing and "thank yous", and surely the soprano sobbing outshined the alto counter melody.

As the long minutes passed, Moonbin tried to stop crying, but because he was so overwhelmed by  the various emotions surging inside of him, he couldn't. The salty ebbs of his inner waterfall just kept coming.

Before this moment, he had had no idea that a human being was capable of feeling so many emotions: happy, sad, grateful, excited. He couldn't even begin to try to find a name to express every unique emotion he was feeling, so instead he dig his head into Jihoon's chest and cried, "I get to go home...!"

----

"This is nice..." Moonbin whispered to himself, his voice hoarse but calm--content even. He paused then, examining the night sky above, before he slowly spun in a circle, his arms wrapped lightly around his torso.

When his long sobbing session in the office came to an end, he immediately received the things that had been taken from him: his phone and his fairly light suitcase. His breakdown had been so long, however, that by the time he had collected himself and calmed completely, night had fallen and replaced the reds and oranges of the sunset with a comforting darkness. He figured that this would be the best time to take a stroll in the field behind the mansion. These past few days had been so exhausting, so eventful, that he craved for some sort of break, and the green stretch of land seemed to be the perfect place to put a hold on things.