Taemin feels a familiar arm wrap around his shoulder as the once empty spot beside him on the bed dips, cushioning Minho's weight. For the life of him, he does not know if he wants to lean closer into the man or just push him off and away entirely, because he cannot sort his emotions out, his mind just too muddled, swarming in confusion with what had just happened.

His father (he knows that the man does not deserve to be given such a title, but what else is he supposed to call him? Bastard? The devil's spawn?) had shown up at his doorstep with the nerve to be sporting a wide grin and open arms. The man had the gall to call him by his name and tell him that he missed him and that he had been looking all over for his 'beloved son'. The man had the gall to call him by a name he had already thrown away the day he was accepted as one of the Lee's. But no matter how angry and offended Taemin had been by the man's behavior, seeing him once more made him feel afraid— terrified, even. The sight of Park Suho made him remember all of the bad things— all of the people who had abandoned him, all of the nights spent sleeping under snow-covered pick up trucks, all of the red-eyed men in the dark alleys, all of the tears his mother had wept when the rope hung tight around her neck.

His throat is still burning, and he winces when he breathes in through his nose, the scratchy feeling still present as the tears keep falling. He had screamed incessantly at his father, demanding for him to just get the away from him and never return again. The man didn't let up though, and he had moved towards Taemin to try and soothe him. With only inches serving as the proximity between them, Taemin had immediately jumped back and told the man not to get any closer. Minho must have felt just how much damage the intruder's presence is doing to the brunette, for he had stepped in, grimly telling the man to leave as Taemin both cowered and fumed behind him. MInho already had the nearest station's number dialled on his phone, and threatened the man that if he does not leave at that moment, he would have no regrets in calling for the cops.

"Baby," He hears Minho coo in his hear, "It's okay now. He's gone." The elder keeps whispering soothing words right againt his ear and the crook of his neck with his silky voice.

The gentle caresses to his side, his cheek, his back, his thigh— they all make Taemin want to fall into the elder's embrace, want to believe that what Minho is saying is true and that that bastard is never going to appear again; that seeing his of a father was all a dream.

But he is crying, and his throat is burning, and the threat of his father almost touching him are still all so vivid in his mind that he just cannot trick himself into believing that that was all just a nightmare.

He doesn't want his voice to, but it trembles as he hoarsely speaks, "Do you really expect me to believe that?"

Taemin looks into the elder's eyes, trying to figure out what is running through Minho's head. The man isn't saying anything, only looking; staring right back at the brunette, a sort of sadness lingering in his eyes. If the sadness is from pity or empathy, Taemin does not know.

But no matter where his boyfriend's despondency stems from, it worries Taemin. It fills him with dread. He remembers how horribly he had acted minutes ago, realizing as well how horrible he must look right now, with dried up tears staining his cheeks and his nose clogged up and red from all his crying.

Is he looking at me like that because he feels sorry for me?

Suddenly the trauma comes rushing back. All of the faces of the people who had left him as a child clutter his emotional wreck of a brain. Suddenly he remembers how he had felt when both his parents had willingly left him, making him feel as though he wasn't good enough for anyone to stick around long enough to teach him how to fend for himself. He remembers how it felt to be a burden to everyone around him. And now the feeling is coming back, and it is swallowing him whole.

"I'm sorry." He hiccups pitifully between the words.

Minho is still his cheek with his thumb, wiping away the traces of the salty tracks when he softly asks, "For what?"

Taemin doesn't answer his question, because how is he supposed to apologize for being yet another burden in someone's life? How is he supposed to voice out his regrets for being born and properly verbalize his apologies for his sad excuse of an existence? So instead of explaining himself, he weakly pushes himself off of Minho.

"You don't have to keep forcing yourself to stay. I... I can take care of myself."

"What?" The elder croaks out, and Taemin feels the arms coming back to wrap around him, "Taemin, I want to stay. I'll take care of you until you feel better, neh?"

"Stop lying." He musters up enough strength to weakly push himself off of the only man he would never want to let go.

"What?"

"Stop lying to yourself, and stop lying to me." Taemin's voice cracks as he distances himself from Minho, almost wavering when he sees the hurt in the man's eyes, "No one ever wants to stay with someone like me." He averts his orbs from the other's piercing gaze.

"What do you mean someone like you?" Minho sounds like he is annoyed and incredulous at the same time as he tries to get an answer out of Taemin. "What are you talking about?"

"I mean someone who's not ing good enough to be with someone like you!" The younger has stood up by this point, desperate to stay away from Minho as much as possible, because if the man comes any closer, he will have no choice but to break down and jump right back into his arms— and he just can't afford to do that. "You're going to leave me eventually, so why don't you do it while you're ahead?!"

He is screaming again.

But he didn't mean to say it. He really didn't. It has just been one of his most prevalent fears about their relationship from back when they were still new to what they were, and the fears had all come hurtling back that he had let that one slip.

"You're going to leave me eventually, so why don't you do it while you're ahead?!"

At first, Taemin's words did not sink in. The words didn't— or rather, wouldn't make sense to Minho. He refuses to believe that the things that he had just heard had come from the love of his life's very lips. The lips that he had caressed with his own, the lips that he had practically marked as his just to show him and everyone else that the owner of those plush lips are his and his alone.

But then the words force themselves on him, shattering what was once his vision for him and Taemin. He had thought that things have been going perfectly for the both of them, that they are going to get their happily ever after sooner or later. But the very person that he wanted to share this future with had to ruin it for them.

He doesn't want to, but it is the only way to restrain himself from doing anything stupid, so he clenches his fists. He is furious.

"Do you really think that lowly of me?"

"I..."

Taemin's voice is quivering. His eyes are glazed with glassy tears. His bottom lip is caught between his teeth and that is what he always does when he just wants to break down and cry into his boyfriend's chest.

What the am I doing? He reminds himself that he had promised both to himself and to Mr. Lee that he will never let anyone, not even himself, hurt Lee Taemin. He fully intends to follow through with that promise, so when he cuts Taemin off, it is not to hurt him. It is to make him realize something that he should have already known a long time ago.

"Haven't we gone through enough for you to know that I'm never going to leave you?" He tries to soften his voice to a more reassuring tone, just so Taemin would stop shaking.

Seeing his lover look at him with such terrified eyes hurts him more than if a thousand needles were to pierce his skin. He wants to tell him that it's okay, that he would never do anything to hurt him; but when the brunette takes a step backward, it infuriates Minho.

His hand shoots up to grip Taemin's wrist, keeping the trembling boy from moving any further, "Didn't I ing admit to my own homophobic mother that I, Choi Minho, am in love you?"

When Taemin only stares up at him with wide, doe eyes, his voice easily reverts back to the calming, loving, tender tone that he always uses on the boy. "I love you, Lee Taemin. I love you, and I always will."

A deafening silence fills every space of the room until Minho breaks it with a heartbreaking question.

"So why the can't you just get that through that thick head of yours?" The last question only comes out as a frustrated whisper, because Minho still cannot believe that he has to do all of this just to make the only person he has ever loved realize something that he has been trying so hard to prove all this time.

Has he not done enough to show Taemin his dedication to him? Has he not proven his loyalty enough to completely erase Taemin's fears of attachment? Is he really not enough? 

"Maybe this was all a mistake, Minho."

The elder's head is mildly spinning, having raised his head so quickly to properly look Taemin in the eye. His grip on Taemin's thin wrist tightens, and he does not even realize that his own hands may be leaving bruises on his own lover's wrist. He sees Taemin's face contorting in restrained pain, but it does not register to Minho, because he is still trying to convince himself that he had not just heard what he thinks he heard.

The brunette isn't looking at him, so Minho lets go of his harsh grip on Taemin's wrist, desperately shaking him by the shoulders, asking him what the hell he means by that. But Taemin remains silent with a set jaw and flushed cheeks. The brunette is only looking at him with red eyes that are streaming with tears, and maybe no one is saying anything because they are both waiting for the other to say something; because they both don't know what they want anymore.

Minho storms out, muttering " this," because he wants to hit something, anything, until it breaks into tiny, shattered pieces, until he can hurt himself enough physically to numb the emotional hurt rapidly seizing him and his insides like fire on oil. He knows that he cannot stay there any longer than he already has because if he does, he will end up breaking everything in the apartment. He may end up breaking even Taemin himself. And god knows that he would never be able to forgive himself if he ever so much as laid a finger on the crying mess standing in the middle of that bedroom.

This chapter was supposed to be longer, but since I haven’t updated in the past days, I wanted to at least give you guys something. D: