The teeth-grinding tones of the alarm clock blare through the dark room. Son Hyunwoo rolls over on his side, groaning at the movement as he blindly reaches out to slam his hand down onto the clock. He sighs, lying still for a moment to get his bearings.

The man looks over to the other side of the bed, its emptiness a silent jab to his heart.

He forces himself up, a groan slipping from his lips as he throws his legs over the side of the bed and pushes himself off the all-too-comfortable mattress. Chilled autumn air flows through the room from he cracked-open window, but it doesn’t bother him much. He’s always been naturally warmer blooded than most people. He pads his way over on bare feet towards the bathroom, and starts up the shower.

He doesn’t take long in the shower or in getting dried off and dressed. That’s another thing he knows he has going for him, at least. He’s a human heater and he’s quick in the shower… It isn’t, much, granted, but at least it’s something.

He makes his way through the miniscule hallway to the kitchen, and opens the fridge with a frown. He isn’t too sure what he can make to signify the beginning of a bright day, but he has to think of something. Ever since the divorce, his son has suffered in more ways than one. With the absence of his mother, he hasn’t had a proper homecooked meal without his grandmother—Hyunwoo’s mother—present.

And, with everything that’s finally been settled, Hyunwoo just has to think of something to make his son. It’ll lift his spirits to no end if he does.

An hour-and-a-half later, Hyunwoo finishes setting the meal on the table. He’s managed to make something pretty decent, he’s gotta say. The egg roll is cooked perfectly, the rice is just fluffy enough, and the broth is quite tasty. He even managed to not burn the toast, and to roll the gimbap pretty well. He smiles proudly at his work, and goes to awaken his son.

He wanders back down the hall towards Jooheon’s room, and peeks his head through the crack in the doorway. The room is dark, as it’s still early morning. Toys and papers litter the floor, and a pile of blankets lie motionless on the bed. Hyunwoo chuckles under his breath, and moves further into the room. He sits down on the bed as slowly as he can so as not to scare the boy.

“Jooheonney?” he asks softly, setting a gentle hand atop the now-exposed shoulder of his son. There’s a low hum of acknowledgment from the boy, and Hyunwoo can’t help but laugh again as he pulls the covers back more. “Jooheonney, it’s time to wake up.”

“Appa,” the boy whines, his eyes peeking open ever so slightly. His hair is all mushed around from sleeping, and his lips are set in the most adorable pout Hyunwoo has ever seen. “Appa, I don’t wanna get up. Can’t I stay with you today?”

“You don’t want that, Heonney,” Hyunwoo replies. “I’m going to be at work all day. You’d be bored out of your mind if you came with me.” He pauses, grasping his son’s arm to gently pull him up as he adds, “Besides, you have soccer practice today. You don’t want to miss that.”

“Soccer ,” Jooheon grumbles, wiping at his face with his hands. “I’m gonna drop it soon.” Hyunwoo’s heart drops at this, memories of the first time he’d taken his son to soccer practice flashing to the forefront of his mind. Jooheon had been so happy then, so delighted to have such a fun outlet for his energy. But, now, it seems that’s changed… as well as many other things.

“Come on, Jooheonney,” he says, not wanting to talk about it now, “breakfast is ready. Come eat so you can get ready.” Jooheon groans in protest, does as he’s told, anyhow. Hyunwoo smiles at his compliancy, and pats his son on his head before following him out the room.

Jooheon shuffles through the apartment with his eyes only half-open, and sits down in a creaky chair at the cramped table. He stares at the food already set out, and has to stifle a sigh at the obvious overcompensation. Ever since the divorce, his father had been doing everything he could to make up for his mother running off with her personal trainer… At first, Jooheon had felt sorry for his father and had appreciated all this, but now it only reminds him of who isn’t with them anymore.

He leans forward and plucks up a bite of egg with his chopsticks, and pops it into his mouth. He ignores the bitter taste it leaves in his mouth after he swallows and takes a bite of rice. He knows it’s better to eat, not because he’s worried about being hungry later but because he knows his father will ask what’s wrong if he doesn’t.

The two quickly eat, and Jooheon drags his feet to go get ready. Twenty minutes later, father and son are in the car.

Jooheon plays on his phone the entire ride to school, only looking up when Hyunwoo finally pulls up to the dreaded building. Hyunwoo wants to speak with his son, wants to hear him laugh like he used to, but he doesn’t know how to get that without coming off as annoying. He knows that’ll only exacerbate Jooheon’s sour mood, so he lets the boy keep to himself for the time being.

As Jooheon pulls his bag up off of the floorboard, Hyunwoo finally thinks of something he could possibly say.

“Remember I’ve got that meeting with your teacher today, so come meet me after your practice here, and I can drive us home.”

He can’t help but wince at the tired sigh this brings from his son, and Jooheon merely opens the door and steps out.

“Okay,” is all he says, and Hyunwoo is just glad he’s managed to get that much out of his son.

Hyunwoo frowns on the entire way to work, almost scowling at every traffic light he passes. He knows it’ll take some time to… adjust to all these changes, but he can’t help but notice the personality changes Jooheon has gone through since the divorce. He tells himself it’s just a phase similar to what every middle schooler goes through, that he’ll soon have his sweet Jooheonney back.

But, he finds it hard to shake the fear that Jooheon won’t ever grow out of it.