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“I’m leaving!” Moonbi shouted from down the hall.

Namjoo sniffed in her bed, pulled the sheet over her shoulder. Didn’t bother turning around when Moonbi propped her door open, poked her head into the dark room.

“You’re really not going?” she asked.

“No.” Namjoo sniffed again.

“Jesus, Namjoo.” Caking the door open, Moonbi leaned a hip against the threshold. “It’s not like mom’s not talking to you. She even made you egg soup, because you’re sick. I know you’re going through something, but you can’t mope around in bed all day. It’s been…three days already. You need to do something.”

Namjoo ignored her. She didn’t need a lecture right now. Her head hurt and she felt like from crying so much. She wasn’t up to bartending or keeping men company for extra money.

She missed Sehun dearly.

She wanted to hear his voice. Feel his arms around her.

But she couldn’t. She didn’t deserve that. She couldn’t go back there.

She was just a nobody.

And that was embarrassing enough.

The tears rained again and her shoulders trembled.

Moonbi sighed the thousandth sigh. The light from the hallway thinned out before disappearing. Namjoo listened to the click of the door again and sobbed.

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Moon Club was still closed, so Sehun drove around the block wasting the minutes. Deciding at last to just park across the street, keep his eye on the sleek building. If needed he was willing to confer to the police officer about exceeding the parking time limit.

Had Namjoo been reporting to work? Sitting and chatting with aimless men? He worried. He hoped not.

He drew up images of her daily life now that he wasn’t in it.

She must miss him because he missed her like crazy. He would literally do anything just to hear her tell him I love you.

The more he thought about it, the more depressed he became.

Waiting out the hours felt like eight lifetimes. Then it darkened. White clouds ashy gray. The sleek black building lit up. He saw Namjoo’s petite mother reporting for work. On her way in stopping to chat with the bodyguard outside. Gigantic smiles splashed across their faces, heads nodding back chortling laughter.

He wished that was him. Laughing, too.

Sehun gave it a minute, two, then stepped out of his car. He sought the exterior of the club as the bodyguard pressed him for an ID, which he handed over impatiently. Once in, Sehun wove through the hallways, searching. The bars were surprisingly filling up faster than he expected.

Sehun spun around under the dim glowing lights. The bartender pinned him as suspicious when he asked for Namjoo’s mom, said he was her son-in-law. Shaking him off the man with a white apron around his waist passed him off, ignoring him totally as he shifted attention to a woman in a halter. Swiveling away from the woman’s prowling focus, Sehun left the bar.

A way past the VIP plush furniture he heard shrilly giggling, the noise familiar. Following the distinctive voice Sehun wound his way past a group of men making a toast. Beyond flashes of straight white teeth to missing front tooths, Sehun finally spotted a familiar person.

Moonbi.

Widely grinning relieved Sehun jogged toward her dismissing an apology to an older lady he bumped into.

“Hey.” He first greeted.

“Oh!” Pressing a palm to her chest, Moonbi wheeled away from the man she was giggling with. It took a moment for her eyes to bulge, a finger pointed at him. “It’s you!”

Never minding introductions, Sehun pushed for what he was here for. “Is Namjoo here?”

“You’re out of luck, buddy.” Moonbi shook her head.

“She’s not?” Disappointment inflated him.

“Yep, sorry.” Moonbi shrugged him off like he was an inconvenience. A giggle again when she turned away.

Touching her shoulder, he turned her toward him. “I’m in a hurry. It’s important.”

“Hey!” the man with her warned.

Moonbi blinked taken aback.

Releasing her, he had no choice. “I’m her husband. I’m just looking for her. Please.”

Shoulders drawing back, Moonbi inhaled a sharp gasp. Sehun waited, began tapping his foot restlessly. He about wanted to strangle an answer out of her.

“She’s home. She hasn’t been feeling well lately.”

“Where’s home?”

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The tunnel was foggy. The end in sight unclear from where Namjoo traveled. Feet sloshing through sewage and thick muck. The grainy concrete prickled her fingertips as she felt her way out. Nearly there she chanted. So close…so close…

She snapped awake. Her consciousness bleary as she blinked awake. It was the textured gray wall she’d been pressing a hand against. Sighing lethargically Namjoo flipped onto her back. Closed her eyes again. Unwilling to get up.

It was then she noticed the front doorbell was chiming. Groaning belatedly, Namjoo forced herself up. Probably Moonbi deciding to ditch work early to go see her man baby. Clicking her tongue irritated, she shuffled lazily. Unlatching the lock from its hook, she flung the door open meeting with a pair of unfamiliar slacks. Not what Moonbi had worn on her way out.

Confused Namjoo’s head rose, meeting with a face she had longed for. Her lips quivered and tears lubricated her face, but Sehun didn’t give her a moment. Yanking her into his arms he squeezed her tight. Readjusting his arms around her twice he inhaled her hair.

“I missed you.” He breathed. Running a hand over the back of her head, “I missed you.”

And she did nothing but sob into his shoulder wearily.

“Let’s not stand in the doorway.” He ushered her inside. Pressing an affectionate hand to her forehead feeling her temperature, he shared, “I heard you’re sick.”

Sniffing, Namjoo shook her head.

“Have you eaten?” he worried drawing a thumb across the slim of her cheek. “You’ve lost weight.”

The shake of her head again. Sehun led her over to the tiny kitchen table. Lifting the lid off the pot on the stove her mother had left, he offered, “I’ll warm up some soup for you. Eat something.”

Wiping her nose at the table, Namjoo quietly shook her head. Sehun helped himself to her embarrassingly tiny kitchen, reheating a bowl for her. Sitting down with her he handed her a spoon.

“How did you come here?” she croaked.

“Let’s talk later. Eat first.” He urged.

She was nauseous, head spun, her brain seemed to be throbbing as if it was performing an ensemble. Her stomach first cramped on the first spoonful. Namjoo forced another spoonful down. Another and one more until she drained the bowl. Taking it from her Sehun went to the sink to wash and stow it into the dishrack.

“Let’s lay you down.” He came back. “Get some rest.”

Gripping his arm, Namjoo shook her head. Her voice came out quiet. “It’s embarrassing.”

“What?”

She couldn’t bear to look at him. The vision of him in the small complex shared by three women. This was the standard of her life. Pale walls, unraveling wallpapers, tiny rooms, chipped linoleum flooring. It even smelled musky compared to the bright stucco home that was Sehun’s.

Her room was depressingly small. Clothes stashed into two plastic dressers. She lacked a closet. Her necessities were all over the place, thrown in a disorganized matter. It was damning to let him see it.

“I’m curious, is all.” Sehun gently soothed. “I don’t care how much you have. I don’t love you for the materials you own. I just want to lay in your bed with you until you feel better.”

She was about to cry again. He was so good. Why was he so accepting?

Tearful, Namjoo tightened her hand around his arm. Allowing him to lead her back to her gloomy bedroom not even six steps away.

At the doorway Namjoo faced him, gripping his arms to stop him. “I hate it. I don’t want you to.”

Taller than her Sehun peeked inside anyway. “It’s cute.”

“Just say you’re uncomfortable.” She mumbled partially burying her face into his shirt.

“So, that’s your bed?” he sounded excited. “I want to lay in it.”

There was a mischievous glimmer in his expression when she looked up. Saying no more Sehun led her straight in and onto her twin mattress. It was the worse thing she’d done in her life climbing onto the small bed with someone big as Sehun. Namjoo had to really press into the wall as Sehun lay on his side with her.

“You’re going to fall.” She ranted tightly sliding her arm around him.

“I won’t.” he kind of giggled, shimmying closer. The sturdiness of his warm body felt buried against her. Clinging onto her he peered intimately into her eyes. “I missed you.”

Staying quiet she glanced down at the width of his shoulder.

“Why did you leave?” Sehun asked. He prodded when she didn’t reply, “Answer me.”

“Because…” she let the word linger, “I can’t stand hurting your parents.” Her eyes welled with tears again. This time she couldn’t help crying, “I’m just a disappointment. I was so embarrassed and scared.” Hiccupping, “I’m not even good enough. I couldn’t bear to stay.”

The emotions were even more ravaging having to admit this to him, the most important one. She didn’t want him to know.

“I told you, that’s not important to me.” he reminded. “If you feel small, I can climb down to be small with you. What I want is you, Namjoo, not what you have on your back. You are good enough.” Combing a hand into her hair past her ear, he said, “I love you, so don’t think like that.”

Stifling her cry, she nodded. “I love you, too.”

He chuckled airily. Cupping her face, he said, “My dad misses you. Mom, too.”

“How are they? Are they mad at me?” Namjoo worried.

“About that…later,” he assured deciding now was not the best time to tell her about his dad’s condition, “but let’s do something else.”

“Do what?” Namjoo asked. Her eyes rounded and she half rose, “We’re not doing it here.”

On her bed?! They’d probably break it! Darn Sehun and his ideas!

Bursting with laughter, Sehun tossed his head back. “No, of course not.”

She didn’t trust him.

“We have to take the test, remember?” he asked. “There should be some at the convenience store.”

Sehun sat up, but his hand dangled through the air at his hip and toppled off her bed crashing onto her floor with a shout.

“Sehun!” she yelled leaning over the side of the bed to see him grunting in pain, a hand at his lower back.

“My spine…” he grumbled.

“You should have been careful!” Namjoo leapt down to help pull him up. “You’re already old as it is.”

Huffing dramatically, Sehun hissed pained. “It’s ok. I don’t think anything’s broken.”

Locking eyes, they shared a giggled.

“I love you.” He broke the mood.

“I love you, too.” Her heart raced giddily despite the bucket of wailing tears she’d shed just a minute ago. How fast the night changes when with someone you love. It was an amazing thing.

She leaned up to kiss her husband, feeling complete and whole when he secured her into his embrace.

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So that day they went from closed shop to closed shop until discovering one open 24 hours. Sehun waited half a night and a quarter of the morning for Namjoo’s mother to arrive home. It need be said, Kim Jina wasn’t not very pleased at seeing him in her home.

Opting for his first line of offense before Namjoo’s mom countered, Sehun knelt before her. Several steps into her home and some man was bombarding her absurdly. Moonbi, at the woman’s back, gasped noisily.

“Are you out of your mind?” Namjoo hissed from behind. For this tactic, he had not shared with her.

“Mother,” Sehun gripped his knees appearing the ever-polite man, “please let me take Namjoo with me. I love her. I promise I’ll always protect her. I’ll give her everything. Please.”

Grasping his shoulder Namjoo tugged him up to his feet. She snarled up at him. Lastly, facing her mother, she said, “Mom, I’m sorry. I know everything you’ve said to me is because you’re worried about me.” Lacing her fingers through his, she confessed, “I’m having a baby.”

The pregnancy test she’d taken at 6AM landed smack on the table. The duo shared a quick smitten grin before reverting to the elder, waiting for her reaction.

“Well, then…” Namjoo’s mother in a breath, “off you go.”

Sehun blinked, surprised. That easy?

“R…really?” stammered from his mouth.

“Since we’ve already met, I shall skip formalities,” Namjoo’s mother dismissed him. Next her eyes went steely, “If you make my daughter cry, I will beat you with a stick.”

“O…of course.” He promised. Uneasy, he shot Namjoo another look for assurance. To be honest, he thought she didn’t look so positive herself.

On the way out, he quietly asked, “How come I feel like your mom doesn’t like me?”

“Sure, she does.” Namjoo piped up crossing the street with him, but didn’t sound very certain again.

Sehun left it at that. Figuring someday in the future he could sort that out, but right now there was an important task needed completing.

“Dad’s in the hospital,” Sehun confessed in the car.

Snapping toward him, Namjoo screeched, “FATHER IS WHERE?!”

The days that followed were kind of hazy for Sehun. His mother was a blubbering mess when he brought Namjoo to the hospital. His dad, clingy as ever, kept Namjoo at his side chatting with her endlessly that the nurse had to shoo them away, yell at his father not to outdo himself. The old man retaliated, claiming he was energetic enough and wished to return home. When told no by his admitting doctor, he threatened to sue the hospital. None of which came to fruition, obviously.

Sehun took several days off work, chauffeuring Namjoo to the hospital. Couldn’t bear to be apart from her after so many days without her. Everyday in his father’s VIP ward there was always some gathering. They’d sit together while sharing tangerines and slices of apple, talking.

It was his father who cried when they shared the news of their pregnancy. In contrast, his mother manically giggled overjoyed as if induced by some drug. Later in the day he found her in the hallway, phoning friend after friend spreading the news like wildfire.

After the first doctor visit and the first ever official ultrasound, they went to Namjoo’s mother. She gleamed over the picture of a tiny seed, a high-pitched voice claiming its features were already taking after her. Strong Kim family genes she told him. No threat this time, but instead Sehun received, “Because you’re weak.” Whatever that meant. When he asked Namjoo she just shrugged.

Due to his father’s health, they waited several months to hold another wedding; the proposal by Namjoo’s mother, because the real family had been absent the first round. How unfair and displeasing. Disrespectful he was sure Namjoo’s mother had snickered at his back. On the day of Kim Jina cackled boisterously with his mother as if they’d been long time friends. Sehun stared appalled.

His father, a weak man, slowly regaining his strength was seated at the first row dressed in his best suit. An orchestra hired for the beautiful sunny afternoon. What was taking place at his house consisted of his family and Namjoo’s, including Moonbi and her man baby currently hogging the snack table. Every snack a favorite of Namjoo’s Sehun had been very careful to order until the store ran out of stock. If they devoured everything he was seriously done for. He should already start plotting his grave somewhere on the property.

These days, Namjoo snapped at the speed of light. He couldn’t even shower with her anymore and that injured his feelings.

Ensuring that all was in control he returned indoors in search of his wife in the case she needed aid. The chaotic sounds of the outside faded the deeper he went into the manor. Passing the kitchen, he finally arrived at his destination, a pastel white bathroom door. Closed.

“It’s me.” he knocked. Pushing the door open he peeked inside. Namjoo was in front of the mirror dabbing the last of her makeup on.

“I’m almost done.” She peeked at his reflection in the giant mirror.

She’d gotten bigger the previous months. Currently at 22 weeks Namjoo was more than halfway through pregnancy. The roundness of her belly cutely popped out from the purple dress she was wearing. No wedding dress. Namjoo didn’t want to go out searching, so this was what she’d decided on for the special occasion. Beautiful nonetheless.

Approaching from behind he fixed the collar of her dress, greedily inhaling the perfume she was wearing. Pecking her neck, he said close to her ear, “Don’t doll up too much. You’re breaking my heart.”

“Stop it.” Namjoo shrugged him away, scolding, “See! I messed up my eyeliner!”

Groaning frustrated, she swiped at the toilet paper roll. Taking the tissue from her he dabbed the corner of her eye apologetically, feeling their bodies brush.

He let out a yelp stepping back. “The baby just kicked me.”

“Because you’re a nuisance.” Namjoo scowled.

“Hey, come on.” Sehun crooned. “Our Angel does not.”

They were having a girl. A daughter. His very dreams were coming true. In four months, he’d be able to hold his little girl in his arms, cradle her to sleep every night, shower her with everything possible. One day he looked forward to making a mess in the kitchen with his Angel while Namjoo shook her head in disapproval.

Some random luck that Namjoo was blessing him with everything. Through an encounter that changed his world entirely he must have been born under some lucky star. For that, too, he should also thank his parents.

Gripping Namjoo’s hand he led her down the hallway. One step, two step, together and soon to be three pairs of feet sharing the same path.

***LOL was that rushed? I honestly don't know. I realized I forgot about Hwayi a quarter of the way through, but he was just an annoying character and that was all his purpose was: to incite confusion and jealousy. 

***This has got to be the lightest story I've written if you know me /coughs/ all my other angsty stories. Much like Hwayi, the story served no real purpose. I was simply inspired by Oh! My Sweet Liar for this storyline, so I just wanted to create something fun I could laugh through, which I did at the beginning. I had fun writing considering for the last quarter of the way I was mentally dying inside. But thank you for reading and commenting. I enjoyed talking to you all and appreciate it a lot! I will see you around next time!