“Jonghyun,” his mother calmly spoke to him, but her eyes blazed on their father, “Please take Kibum to your room and turn the TV on. I think Pororo is on.”

Jonghyun obeyed his mother, picking his bookbag off the floor and stood, holding a hand out to Kibum with a smile as the younger took his own tiny bookbag and reached for him, too.

  “Why do they have to go?” their father didn’t bother keeping a quiet tone, “It’s not like I’m antagonizing them—it’s always you doing that part. There you go again, always blaming me. . .”

  “Make sure to write on that erase board on your door, sweetie,” she still spoke to Jonghyun politely, “Let me know.”

He led Kibum out of the living room as their father growled at their mother about how that erase-board idea was just a waste of money.

On the contrary, Jonghyun found it a pretty good idea. Their mother could simply see what they were doing inside Jonghyun’s room or just their simple status by the writing on the board on his door. It was her way to keep track and she knew Jonghyun was responsible.

That was the side Jonghyun liked seeing from his mother. The side that wasn’t tired and angry, but had a rational thought in her mind about the occupants in the house.

It was good to know she was caring for Kibum and Jonghyun, but wasn’t doing a good job to make it better for them. But she’ll do better one day, both the kids were sure.

(Needless to say, they had no idea what their father thought.)

Kibum went inside his room as Jonghyun took the cap off the marker, writing on the board for his status.

Jonghyun and Kibum.

Door is locked.

He attached the marker back to the board and closed the door behind him, locking it just as he wrote.

  “Pororo doesn’t come on after school,” Kibum noted, dropping his bookbag on the floor and looking at Jonghyun, “Did Mom forget?”

Jonghyun shrugged, a light smile still on his face as he put his bookbag next to Kibum’s, “Moms get forgetful sometimes, you know that.”

  “I don’t want to watch TV anyway—”

CRASH.

Kibum screamed in fright and Jonghyun looked back at his door. His heart sped up and his palms got sweaty. He didn’t know who threw whatever that was, but it most certainly didn’t sound like just a vase falling over from being bumped into.

  “Jonghyun?” Kibum breathed, unable to raise his voice, fearing he was too loud.

With immediate concern, Jonghyun unlocked his door, rushing it open and setting foot into the hall. No, his parents wouldn’t hurt each other physically—only verbally!

  “Jonghyun, stay in there!” his mother warned loudly from the living room, “And don’t come out!”

Jonghyun froze, his body forbidding him to retreat or move forward. He wanted to know, and yet he didn’t want to at the same time. Curse his body for being so weak as his brain battled.

  “Jonghyun,” she threatened, “Go. Back. In.”

A stutter came out of his mouth and started backing up, falling to the floor when he saw a picture frame thrown at the wall at the end of the hall unceremoniously.

  “Stop throwing things, you scare him!”

  “Me?! Woman, you’re yelling at him!”

Jonghyun scrambled into his room, shutting his door again as the shouts arose and more things were being thrown. His Dad was throwing things, not his Mother.

Kibum stared at him, his two feet planted on the floor with his hands prying at his shirt, unable to find the voice to ask what was happening.

Jonghyun got up from the floor and picked Kibum up (he wasn’t a toddler, so he was sort of heavy), placing him on his bed, hands in his, “Don’t listen to it.”

  “But I can’t stop hearing something!”

Jonghyun cursed inside his head at the younger’s logical comment and let go, shuffling through his bookbag, “Here,” he put earbuds in the younger’s ears, “Listen to my music, you always liked doing that.”

Kibum stared at the elder, his hands clutching on to the music device with possessiveness. It wasn’t fair to Jonghyun—he couldn’t hear the fighting anymore, but surely Jonghyun could!

  “But, you’ll still hear them. That’s not okay.”

Jonghyun rubbed the boy’s arm and pecked him on the cheek, stiffly getting out his books from his bag and sitting beside him, “It’s fine. I’m good. I don’t want to listen to music anyway. Go on, turn it on, Kibum.”

It was slowly until Kibum had a song going and Jonghyun distracted himself with homework, but it happened. Jonghyun could still hear the flying objects and the shouts, but he knew he couldn’t do anything about it.

They laid on the bed together, Kibum’s head on his shoulder as he wrote something down.

No where was it near to becoming quiet in the house, and no matter how upset Jonghyun was getting just from thinking about it, he pressed harder on his pencil, denting the paper with the symbols.

It wasn’t long until Kibum was asleep and he was done his homework. It was disappointing how he could even finish difficult homework so quickly and his parents couldn’t even manage to quiet down by the time. He didn’t know why he expected it, so he told himself to lower his expectations.

He looked at Kibum as the younger breathed slowly out his pouted mouth, the music of a ballad playing in his ears and easing him to sleep.

Kibum was the only thing close to calm in the house, Jonghyun had thought. He didn’t mimic his parents and fight. Sure, he’d get feisty at points, but not to the point he could create some childish argument out of it.

Kibum didn’t want to be like their parents, and Jonghyun was glad he didn’t take after them. He loved Kibum and all, but Jonghyun wouldn’t be able to put up with Kibum if he turned sour.

When Jonghyun heard the loudest crash—it had to be the TV—he jumped as his mother screamed a long string of curse words, her voice shrill and high, not even taking a breath as she screamed as his father.

Now, that was way too violent and sounded way too close to the hallway.

Jonghyun’s heart sped up. If their Dad burst into their room while angry, he absolutely knew he could hit someone or throw something.

He wasn’t willing to risk that one bit.

He jumped up, waking up Kibum, but not looking back as he unlocked his door as quietly as he could, taking the marker and uncapping it, adding to the status.

Jonghyun and Kibum

Door is locked.

At Mr. and Mrs. Hwang’s house.

He put the marker back and locked his door again, seeing Kibum staring at Jonghyun with the earbuds out, listening to the havoc in the living room. He started hiccupping, squeezing the earbuds in his hands.

  “Come here, Kibum,” Jonghyun soothingly walking to him. Kibum held his arms out, letting Jonghyun pick him up and settled his legs around the elder’s waist, taking the music device with him.

Jonghyun went to his window and opened it with one hand, carefully helping Kibum out the window and followed after him.

Kibum’s hiccups were louder, upset with Jonghyun’s decision.

No, not upset that he made the decision, but the fact Jonghyun had to make this decision for their safety.

  “Don’t cry,” Jonghyun soothed again, picking him back up as he led them to the sidewalk, “Everything’s okay. Besides, you like the Hwangs. You love Tiffany playing with your hair.”

Kibum uneasily smiled at the thought of Tiffany’s hands running through his hair, placing his head on Jonghyun’s shoulder.

  “There you go,” Jonghyun breathed, relieved Kibum settled down a little, “Just down the street and Tiffany will be all over you.”

Jonghyun could only wish Tiffany’s family were his own.

Then Kibum would be a lot happier.

----Note~-----

Hi. c:

And before someone could make an assumption, no, I don't know what it's like to have parents so angry they throw things around, but I can only imagine. :|

So happy... Monday? 

Yup, 'nother chapter, but finally written from usual MW.

Next coming is the intro to Ontae. c:

Thank you to every comment, view, and sub. <3

Head over to Escape to Redemption for '2Min' if you'd like. I'm really proud of this story, so even if you don't like 2Min, tell me how you like the plot? No? Your choice. :P

Bye. c:

~FlaMinhoe

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