"I rather wish that you were having a rougher time
I want you to think of me
Because it's hard"
-SEVENTEEN, HABITUAL WORDS

“Seokhwee, you didn’t need to invite him over for your birthday. Your father’s going to be there too.” Wonwoo scolds his eldest son softly as they drove back home, deciding on dropping Seokhwee back in their house before he goes to fetch Jungmin and Haru from Mingyu’s.

He was still a bit disappointed that Seokhwee didn’t seem to care much when he subtly gave hints that he and Yifan are in a ‘rough patch’, nearing breakup and that it was just formality to introduce each other. However, his earlier suspicions of Yifan being a sly fox were proven to be true when he seemed to just put more wood on the flame to make it bigger. Apparently, the senior urged Seokhwee to indulge himself more into their ‘fake relationship’ probably to spite Wonwoo. He would need to talk to the elder someday soon for that.

“Why not?” Seokhwee asks his mother back, a frown on his face to show confusion. “I just want to know him better. Besides, he seems like a good person.” He starts to pout. “Appa, would need to accept it anyway… that you’ve finally found someone.”

“I don’t think he will take it lightly.”

“Why do you suddenly care about Appa right now?” Seokhwee bit back, although in a soft tone. “These past few days, you’ve been calm and collected, not once showing any signs of past hatred towards him. After all those years now you suddenly care and then someone pops up in your life? What’s happening, Umma?”

Wonwoo suddenly felt tense. He didn’t know the answer to that question. Or is it that he knows, but he doesn’t want to accuse his son? It was plausible, how Seokhwee put the words together. He didn’t raise his voice nor put a stress, but the soft voice stabbed Wonwoo in the chest making him unable to breathe for a moment. He was lucky there was a stoplight upfront.

He turns to his son and runs a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry this is all so confusing for you.” He sighs before taking a left for their house.

There was a five minute silence before they reached home and Wonwoo leaned close to undo his son’s seatbelt with a sullen look of his face.

“Umma?”

“Listen, I need to ask you an important question…” Wonwoo starts, biting down on his lower lip, unsure if it was something good or not. “…Are you really certain your father didn’t go to the hospital four years ago when Haru was born?”

Seokhwee looked taken aback from the question and he frowns when it sinks in. “You think I’m lying?”

“It’s a yes or no question, Seokhwee.” Wonwoo says firmly, intrigued at his son’s expression.

“Who even told you this? Only after four years you’re doubting me!?” Seokhwee raised his voice and that had Wonwoo leaning back to his seat, eyes darting to the steering wheel.

“Seokhwee darling, it’s just a question.”

“Yes! I am certain he didn’t come, okay!?” the teenager seethes and exits the car, slamming the door too strong and loud for Wonwoo’s liking.

He watches as his sons stomps his feet as he walks towards their house, only leaving when Seokhwee manages to unlock the door. He massages the frown on his head with a free hand as he drove towards Mingyu’s apartment complex. He didn’t know that his eldest would be so aggravated to answer such a question nor did he know that such question would trigger the younger. He doesn’t want to believe what’s conjuring in his head, but his son’s tone tells him otherwise.

Seokhwee is lying.

---

It was a December’s winter when Wonwoo and Mingyu heard the commotion upstairs, making both parents leave their eggnogs on the kitchen counter and rush up to their sons’ aids.

Wonwoo was shocked to see his nine year old, sporting a reddened patch of skin on his forehead. Snot and tears are evident on his crying face, looking at his mother hopelessly. “What happened here?” he asks as soon as he collects Jungmin in his arms, wiping away his youngest son’s tears.

Jungmin wraps his arms around Wonwoo’s neck and points to Seokhwee’s room. “Hyung hit me when he saw me wearing his sweater.” He says through his sobs.

True enough, Wonwoo and Mingyu looked at the sweater Jungmin was wearing which was ripped on the sleeves and hem. It was the sweater Mingyu bought Seokhwee for his birthday two years ago and they know that the eldest had outgrown it so they folded the sweater in Jungmin’s closet.

A bit enraged, Wonwoo gave Jungmin to Mingyu and stormed off to Seokhwee’s room. “What just happened?” was the first thing he asked the ten year old, curled up in his fluffy bed. “Why did you hit your brother?”

Seokhwee sat up on his bed and rubbed his eyes, looking at Wonwoo. “I didn’t hit him.” He shakes his head. “He fell down on his bed! I didn’t hit him.” Then he starts crying. Wonwoo couldn’t possibly let his frown remain at this when his eldest runs to him and buries his face on his stomach to cry. “I swear I didn’t hit him, Umma!”