Chanyeol knocked on the wooden door. It was very late in the midnight and that was the first time he hoped his mother wasn’t asleep yet on this kind of hour.

“Mom…” he absent- mindedly called. His whole mind was a mess and he couldn’t think of another person besides his mother to come home to. All he wanted was to lay his head on his mother’s thigh and to sleep there until God knew when. Preferably forever.

Fishing out his phone from his pocket, he pressed the speed dial to call his mother. She answered after the third ring.

“Hello?”

“M—mom, I’m—I’m outside. Please open the door” he stuttered. Somehow hearing his mother’s voice made him emotional. He could feel a burning sensation in his eyes.

His mother hung up right away. He waited for a moment before hearing the sound of the door being unlocked. When it opened, he quickly threw his body towards his mother, hugging her tightly.

“Hey, hey, baby boy, what’s wrong?” his mother asked, surprised by his action. “You smell so bad! Did you drink?”

“Mom…” he whimpered, burying his face in her shoulder even though it was hard to do due to the height difference. He was trembling, and that was the moment Mrs. Park knew there was definitely something wrong with him.

“Let’s come inside first” she brought his son into the house and locked the door. Then she led him to the couch and sat him down. He didn’t let her go at all; his clenched fists were shaking around her body.

Mrs. Park knew his son too well; he wasn’t the type to cry easily. He might whine to her about his smallest problem, but he rarely cried in front of her. It was always her who caught him crying alone in his bedroom and offered him her thighs to lean on until the sun rose on the next day.

“It’s okay… It’s okay” she soothingly rubbed his back. “You’re gonna be okay, Channie- yah”

Chanyeol was really crying in her embrace, proven by the wet feeling on her shoulder. She continued to comfort him by slowly patting his back.

“I’m so confused with everything, mom” he managed to whisper some words between sobs. “I—I hate being the only one without any idea of whatever i—is happening”

From his sentences, Mrs. Park knew that his misery had something to do with his amnesia.

Chanyeol woke up with his head on his mother’s thighs. He could see the blinding sun rays peeking from the windows and therefore concluded that he was late to work. He sighed. Hopefully Baekhyun wasn’t tired of teaching the piano students that weren’t actually his.

He looked up to see his mother’s sleeping face. She was leaning towards the couch headrest, her lips slightly parted. The peaceful sight brought some nostalgias to Chanyeol’s mind. Of how his mother always ended up sleeping in that position whenever he borrowed her thighs to cry on.

For Chanyeol, his mother was the best angel sent from God. Every son would think so, but he felt it differently. Mrs. Park was always ready to scold him when he did something wrong, but never hesitated to praise him when he made her proud. She kept a good balance between spoiling and disciplining that only son of hers to the point Chanyeol didn’t have to ask to get a good night kiss and wasn’t even mad when she screamed at him when he made crucial mistakes.

Chanyeol admired his mother. He looked up to everything she did, which were mainly good deeds. The worst thing he’d witnessed she doing was when she dumped the stray cat Chanyeol brought home when he was 7 years old. It was reasonable, though. They’ve had enough pets at home; Mrs. Park didn’t need any more mouth to feed.

He was about to wake his mother up when he heard something. He sat up and sharpened his hearing. It was a sound of footsteps.

Carefully, he stood up. There was someone else in the house and he didn’t know who. Grabbing the nearest thing to him, which appeared to be a couch pillow, he used it as a weapon and began to search for the source of the sound. He looked to his left and his right, observing every movement in the room.

He didn’t have to wait long because the sound maker decided to show itself. Or maybe, herself.

The door of the guest room opened, startling the grown man to his stomach that he almost jumped. He twisted his neck towards the door and—

“Yeol?”

It was the voice of someone he missed the last 2 nights. The voice that haunted his sleepless dreams. The voice that belonged to someone he finally realized he fell too deeply in love with.

“Y—Yeol… What are you doing here?”

Seungwan’s voice was quivering, and Chanyeol hated that. He despised seeing her so close to crying. He felt so useless; being there so close to her but was also too far to wipe her tears off.

His heart had been aching for her even when it was only 2 nights that they didn’t see each other’s faces. He missed her—way too much—he thought his brain was going to explode.

But then, the memory of them quarreling hit him like a truck.

He remembered about their argument on her telling Jongin their relationship problem. He remembered her accusing him of cheating when he didn’t know anything. He remembered the way her venomous words stung his sense when she called him a liar.

And his face darkened.

“What are YOU doing here?” he asked back, emphasizing on the ‘you’ part. His tone was unfriendly, and it surprised the woman. She, of course, was mad at him, but wasn’t capable of showing it because her heart was yearning for him and the feeling was a lot larger than her anger.

“I—I—“

“Oh, I know” she didn’t get the chance to complete her sentence