𝒐𝒐𝒐. "I didn't write this to forget who I am as a person nor did I write it for money out of desperation. I wrote this because I know, one day, someone will find this story in the corner of a library, squeezed between forgotten stories with a dus...
Kim Hongjoong. November 26th, 1980. | Wednesday, 7:25 AM.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
With a quiet click of the front door, Hongjoong toes off his sneakers with a slight cringe from his sweaty socks. "Hongjoong," Jihye peeks her head from the entrance of the kitchen, waving her hand to motion for her son to come closer. "Hongjoong!"
"Why are you whispering, Mom?" Hongjoong asks, pulling off his socks as he walks towards his mom before stumbling into the kitchen from her tug.
She looks around, checking behind the blonde then smiles at him, taking his empty hand into hers. "Today is Wooyoung-ah's seventeenth birthday," She says excitedly, her smile growing wider.
A sudden wave of remembrance hit Hongjoong, causing him to smack his forehead. How could he completely forget about Wooyoung's birthday?
"I want you to keep Wooyoung-ah out of the house for a couple of hours after school. Your father and I want to decorate the house before he gets home," Jihye places money into the palm of Hongjoong's empty hands, making sure there was enough for both of them. "Can you do that for me, Joong?"
Hongjoong nods, "Sure, but he may not listen to me. If he comes home, just know he was being difficult."
The smile on her wrinkled face never flattened, slowly closing Hongjoong's fingers over the money with a soft exhale from her nose. "Don't worry, he'll listen to you."
Hongjoong clutches the cash in his hand, giving her a simple nod and a strained smile, hoping he could manage to keep Wooyoung around him for a solid hour. Jihye steps to the side, allowing her son to leave from the second exit of the kitchen to take a quick shower before school, placing a hand on her hip with a thoughtful look on her face, planning the decorations in her head.
Hongjoong wasn't surprised to find Wooyoung still asleep, cuddled up against one of Hongjoong's pillows with his head tucked under the other. Tossing his filthy socks to the piling clothes at the corner of his room, the floorboards creak under his weight as he approaches the sleeping boy.
Hongjoong didn't dare to coo loudly at the sight, knowing the black-haired male would only wake up from the noise and glared at him, though he couldn't help but smile, quietly sitting on the space beside the clutched pillow.
Messy black hair covered the younger's sleeping face, delicately caressing every flawless feature that Hongjoong wished he could trace with his finger. A gentle graze to Wooyoung's rosy nose seemed to tickle him, the black-haired male shifting ever so slightly but remained asleep, something that Hongjoong knew wouldn't wake him.
