Chapter 12 : The Vow

Jong Suk lowers himself on the bed, his hand guiding its way onto Woo Bin’s bruised cheek. It has turned darker now, the blood has long dried out and the scratches along the jawline have started to scab. It ruins his handsome face Jong Suk thinks, his fingers gently brushing over the bruise just below Woo Bin’s eye. He wonders how long it’ll take for them to heal completely.

Woo Bin winces involuntarily at the light pressure, he wanted to hold the pain in but his body seems to have given away to his wishes. Jong Suk immediately snatches his intruding fingers. He must have made the boy worry, Woo Bin thinks, groaning slightly at the sudden loss of that cold touch. It felt soothing on his bruised cheek, brushing softly like a spring breeze.

“Woobin-ah…” Jong Suk calls him, carefully shaking his uninjured shoulder.

“Five…more…minutes…” Woo Bin mumbles sleepily, shifting into a comfortable position. He wants to pull Jong Suk back to the bed, cradle him under his embrace and fall into a deep sleep like earlier this morning, but he holds his urge, slightly worried too much skin-ship might scare the boy off. After all it has been no more than few days since the boy started opening up to him.    

“No, no five more minutes. Last time it turned into five hours, and mom is already home,” Jong Suk murmurs, poking him on the arm. Woo Bin groans, swatting the poking finger off him. Jong Suk’s voice holds no fear or discomfort and it somehow gives him slight hope that the boy would not freak out if he touched. He takes the chance; scooting closer he pulls Jong Suk to him by the waist, burying his face in Jong Suk’s lap. He feels Jong Suk stiffen under his grasp and he stills immediately, waiting for the boy to relax a bit. Instead he is counteracted with a somewhat weak push, elbowing his casted arm accidently in the process. Woo Bin groans painfully though it doesn’t hurt much, and that does the trick. Jong Suk stops struggling and leans back against the headrest.

“Woobin-ah…” Jong Suk murmurs “your father is here, we should go d—”

“My head hurts,” Woo Bin interrupts him. He doesn’t want to go down yet. Because the moment he steps out of this room, his life will become a hell and he will most likely lose control if that is to happen. He’d rather relax on this beautiful boy’s lap, listening to his gently voice than been forced to hear his father’s ranting. He takes Jong Suk’s hand and places it on his head, tugging it gently to move. He hears Jong Suk sigh, and for a moment he doubts Jong Suk might just toss his head off the lap and walk out of the room, but to his relief he doesn’t. Instead Jong Suk’s fingers rakes through his dark locks and a smile finds its way onto Woo Bin’s cracked lips. He pulls Jong Suk tighter to him.

“I’m really hungry, I haven’t had anything since last evening, now it’s almost evening again,” Jong Suk complains after few minutes. His stomach rumbles loudly, evidencing his point.

Woo Bin gets up from the bed, eyeing at the clock. Two twenty five it marks. No wonder Jong Suk’s stomach grumbles, they haven’t had a single meal all day today. “Okay, let’s go,” he says and shuffles out of the room, Jong Suk following closely after him as if ready to catch him if he is to fall down.  

“Good lord!! What on earth happened to you?” Woo Bin’s father darts toward them the moment they step through the double doors into the living room. He grabs onto Woo Bin’s arm. He doesn’t protest when the man swirls him around, inspecting the damage-done carefully. “Did you get into a fight?” his husky voice has gone uncomfortably rigid now. Woo Bin knows by experience where this will go, but he doesn’t want to go there just yet, because he has no energy to start a fight with his old man. Woo Bin snatches his hand and steps into the kitchen, ignoring the angered glare his father is presenting him with.

“Your wounds seem to be healing fast,” Jong Suk’s aunt says studying his scabbed face while setting the dinner table. He smiles in return. It is something of an effort. He knows that just the thought of sitting down and eating lunch with this woman is more than enough to wear him out completely, because that stranger would be taking his mother’s seat and he can be sure that coming face-to-face with his mother’s replacement doesn’t have a nice impact on his raged heart.

His father drags the chair out and thumps on it. It is his way of releasing his anger, though Woo Bin thinks it is bit childish he doesn’t dare say it out loud.

“Why did you fight?” His father asks as he pours himself a glass of water. Jong Suk’s aunt bends over the table with a cardboard container of cold sesame noodles.

“Just defended myself,” Woo Bin says, watching her dump some of the noodles onto his plate before passing it to Jong Suk. He would have preferred Korean food or better some pizza, but none the less his hunger stops him from rejecting the Chinese food. He can feel his father’s disturbingly stiff glare burning on his face, but decides to ignore it. He knows that that answer isn’t good enough, that being the lawyer as he is, his father expects a complete report of the incident, but to hell with that. He is not a criminal and he doesn’t have the energy to make up a convincing lie either. Instead he focuses on twirling some noodle with the fork Jong Suk’s aunt had given him.

“Well, just defended doesn’t tell me who you fought or why you fought, now does it?” his father states, trying to hold in his anger. Woo Bin glances at him, stuffing his mouth with the cold noodles Jong Suk’s aunt had put on his plate. It tastes awful for some reason and he regrets wadding it in his mouth. He tries hard to swallow it down, and manages with a sip of water. He had enough to eat, he thinks, besides he no longer has any appetite. He puts the fork down, ready to walk out of there, but his father’s glare pins him down.

“Aren’t you going to answer?!” Woo Bin feels Jong Suk flinch at his father’s growling. He shifts his casted arm lying on his lap to capture Jong Suk’s left hand. The boy doesn’t reject it, probably because he is too scared. Woo Bin gently the back of Jong Suk’s hand with his thumb. It somehow sooths away the heavy feelings piling up in his-own heart. He just wants to walk out of this suffocating room and hurry back to their bedroom, away from his father’s hoarse voice.

“Honey…” the woman sitting in his mother’s place calls out softly, “You should calm down a bit. We can discuss about this matter later, okay?” Woo Bin watch her hand snakes around his father’s arm, just like his mother used to do. It was his mother’s way of calming his father whenever Woo Bin got into trouble. His chest hurts at the image before him, the fingers on Jong Suk’s hand tightens.

It shouldn’t be like this. This woman shouldn’t be there sitting next to his father. It is where his mother belongs. It should be his mother’s smile beaming at him from across the table, not this stranger’s. At times like this, he imagines that any time now his mother will be coming home, calling his name with that irritatingly childish ‘Binie-ah’ added at the end. But it isn’t that simple; he is old enough to know that.

His father never talked about his mother’s death. His conversations with Woo Bin are always limited to the minutiae of his daily life. Even when they are forced to discuss logistical things, like when his father has to attend the parent’s evenings which mainly mothers did, or even when he had decided to get remarried, he has successfully avoided any mentioning of his deceased mother. When he goes to such length to avoid mentioning her, Woo Bin can’t help but wonder if she is someone his father wants to erase from his memory. Perhaps he regrets ever loving her, or worse, has he even ever loved her?

Sometimes he tries to convince himself that things will return to normal between him and his father. After all, there have been times in past when they didn’t get along. His heart has been closed to everyone since his mother died eight years ago. He knows he should be happy that his father has finally decided to move on with his life, perhaps that’s what he should do too—that’s what logical people would do. But it is harder than he thought it would be. Sometimes he has this feeling that Jong Suk is a gift send by his mom, to help him move on with his life, to help him smile at old memories, to be able to reminisce the past without the longing to return to that past. Perhaps someday he will be able to do so, as long as this pretty boy is by his side everything will eventually return to normal. Perhaps he’ll be able to fall in love like his mother did, perhaps he’ll be able to return a smile at this woman when she snakes her arms around his father’s in that same manner his mother used to do. But not now, not today. He wants to get out of this place.

At first Woo Bin thought it was just a matter of time. That his father would eventually confront him. He kept waiting for his father to yell, scream, cry his heart out, do anything but avoid even mentioning his deceased mother. But the months wore on, it became increasingly clear to him that he had no intension of ever talking about his mother’s death. It was clear that this man wanted to forget her.  His coldness toward his deceased wife upsets Woo Bin terribly; Woo Bin hated that. He hated how fast his father could smile like he used to even though his mother was no longer there, he hated how fast he was back in following his daily routines as if nothing ever changed.

Woo Bin lets Jong Suk’s hand slip away from his grip and stands up. Without sparing a glance he hurries out of the kitchen.

“Yah! Kim Woo Bin!! Where do you think you are going? I’m not done talking to you!!” he ignores his father’s scream echoing from the kitchen and creaks up to his room.

“Are you okay?” Jong Suk’s voice rings closer to him. He assumes the boy had followed right after he had left. He sure wouldn’t want to stay in that place when his father is screaming like a mad man.

“Nothing I’m not used to,” Woo Bin says, lowering on to the bed. He can’t climb up to his own bed and probably wouldn’t be able to for few more days. Most of his wounds have already started scabbing, but his twisted arm still pained a little, though he is thankful he no longer needed to keep it in a sling for all day long. Jong Suk steps close to him, ready to slump on the bed next to him, but before he could Woo Bin grips his wrist and pulls him to stand in front of him.

He peers into the pale orbs above him. “Were you scared?” he asks in a gentle voice, never letting go of the gaze he has captured in his. Jong Suk bites onto his lower lip and shakes his head. It somehow seems like a habit, Woo Bin assumes, since he has seen the way this boy always tend to bite his lips whenever he was nervous. He knows he won’t be accepting that woman as his mother, but when he realises this small boy staring down on him only walked into his life because that woman took his mother’s place, the anger subsides somewhat. After all if it weren’t for her, he might have never met this beautiful boy.

Woo Bin wraps his arms around Jong Suk’s waist, pulling him closer, and buries his face on his torso.

“W—What are you doing?” Jong Suk struggles to free himself, but the attempts dies out when he realises it isn’t going to work. Woo Bin breaths in Jong Suk’s flowery fragrance; he wonders if it is just his shower gel or if it is his skin fragrance—either way, he likes it.

“D..o…n’t g…o to…mo-rrow” Woo Bin’s words comes out muffled against Jong Suk’s shirt.

Jong Suk clamps his face in his palms and lifts to look into to his eyes. “I can’t hear you properly,” he says, smiling at Woo Bin. Woo Bin’s heart skips a beat when he sees that bright gleam so close to his—it is the first time seeing this genuine smile on his face, those red lips few centimetres away from his. He hates the fact that he can’t touch them even though they are so close to him. Breaking away from Jong Suk’s eyes, he groans in annoyance.

“I said stay home tomorrow,” he mumbles, staring at the floor as if it is the most interesting thing.

“Mom said she’ll treat your wounds. We don’t have to go to the hospital tomorrow,” he hears Jong Suk say, “She is a doctor after all,” he assures as that soft feeling of those slender fingers brushes through his hair. Woo Bin snuggles closer to that hand and leans his head completely onto Jong Suk’s torso.

A knock on the door jerks them both away from the comfortable embrace. Jong Suk awkwardly stares at his aunt peeking through the gap in the open door.

“Is it okay to come in?” she asks, smiling at them.

Why bother asking when you already have? Woo Bin thinks, but doesn’t word it out though. Instead he nods at her.

“I wanted to take a look at your wounds,” she says, crouching on the floor next to Woo Bin. She inspects the wounds on his arms carefully before turning to Jong Suk; “Jong Suk-ah…can you go take the first aid kit from the living room please?”

The boy nods and disappears off the room.

“Woo Bin-ah,” she says, catching those sharp eyes in hers, “I don’t mean to pry into your personal life, but you are hurt quite badly,” she leans the casted arm back on Woo Bin’s lap before crawling to sit on the bed next to him. “Do you mind if I ask what happened?”

Of course I do! But he gulps down the thought. He shouldn’t be too rude to her; after all she is Jong Suk’s guardian. When he is quiet for a while, she awakens her voice again, “I’ll dress your wounds before you go to bed. We have to change the dressing tomorrow evening again, but looking at how fast they seems to heal, it’ll only take few more days for them to completely heal,” she says. But luckily, before she could interrogate him further, Jong Suk walks in. He hands her the first aid kit with a small smile. How wonderful it would be if he could smile everyday like that at Woo Bin too…he wishes.

“Jong Suk-ah,” his aunt says again, “While I dress the wounds, can you go down and do the dishes for me?”

What the hell! Why is she trying to send him away all the time? Woo Bin wants to stop him, but instead he stares at the door closing after him.

When he feels his bandages coming off he turns to look at the crouched woman. “Woo Bin-ah,” he hates the way she calls him, it reminds him that this voice is not his mother’s. “Thank you,” she says all of a sudden, catching him off guard.

“F—For w-what?” he shutters. He hadn’t expected that. He thought she had sent him off so she can freely interrogate him on behalf of his father. Does she perhaps know why I fought? The thought crosses him mind for a second, but he shakes it off, clearly it isn’t possible unless she is a psychic or has someone watching him twenty four seven.

“For being kind to Jong Suk,” she sighs, reaching up to sit on the bed, his left arm still in her grasp. With the bandage off, now Woo Bin can see the patch of skin missing on his forearm. It will surely leave a scar there.

“I thought you hated him,” she carries on, her hands busy disinfecting the wound, “I was really worried at first. You see, our Jong Suk…” she trails off for a moment, almost as if arguing with her inner self whether to say it or not. “Well…he has some bad memories from the past,” she says, “so…he doesn’t let people get close to him. He is scared of them,” she starts applying the ornaments on the wounds.

“What happened to him?” Woo Bin asks when she has gone quiet for a while. He kind of have already figured out about Jong Suk’s ‘human phobia’, but he never quite understood what could have caused him to behave in such a fearful way to another human’s touch.

“I’m afraid I can’t tell you that,” she mutters, “When he feels comfortable enough with you, he himself will tell you. He is like that, though he doesn’t trust anyone—or rather he is scared to trust anyone—when is does, he slowly opens upto them. You just have to wait until he opens his heart to you,” she smiles slightly, bandaging his arm with a clean one. “You know…over the past eight years, other than me, you are the first person he has ever let to touch him. He doesn’t seem to be afraid of you and I’m so happy for that.”

“Eight years..?” Woo Bin repeats, his voice holds clear surprise. How can a human last eight years without anyone by their side? He feels somewhat special knowing that he is the first person Jong Suk has opened upto.

“Yeah…it took him that long,” she secures the bandage with a safety pin before moving to disinfect the small cuts on Woo Bin’s  jawline; “that’s why, I want to ask you a favour,” she tucks away the disinfectant tube back to the green box and looks him square in the eye.

“A favour?”

“Yes…Please, don’t ever hurt him,” her voice breaks as she speak, eyes starting to redden. Her eyes cast on her lap, a cotton bud still in her hand rest on it. “If he is hurt again, I don’t think he’ll ever open his heart to anyone…so…” she sniffs, her hands reach to wipe off the tears rolling down her cheeks. Woo Bin’s chest stiffens for some reason. Sure he doesn’t like this woman, but right now, seeing how she shed tears for her sweet nephew seems to warm Woo Bin’s heart.

“I won’t,” Woo Bin says, his voice firm. The woman jerks her head, teary eyes fixing onto Woo Bin’s; they flickers as if searching for some hidden meaning behind Woo Bin’s words.

“I won’t hurt him,” Woo Bin vows. She seems satisfied with the answer, because that uncertain gaze disappears behind a small smile soon after.  

AN: Sorry for the late update; I've been having a writer's block lately. I don't know where to take the story from here....It's really troublesome when I can't see or hear my characters anymore. Hopefully I'll get back to my usual self.... so bear with me a little bit longer okay? ^_^

I really hope this chapter is to your liking!