Yura is all psychical and force – something he’s obviously forgotten but gets reminded of when she slams the door to her office behind them hard enough to rip it off its hinges. She steps around him, he hears he heels clicking on the floor as she pace – she walks past him and hastily stalks off to her desk in the center of the room.

Her office is neat – black and white is the only color his eyes see in the room. She’s never been on to be too showy. Her office is wide and has the same airy feel the art gallery downstairs has, the large windows bring good light in and looking past her shoulder he stares building outside – to avoid her eyes that are boring holes into his body.

He starts thinking coming to her is a bad idea, but his feet are rooted to the ground and he can’t bring himself to turn around and leave. He has to at least try – he needs to get an answer because he has to think of something else if this doesn’t work out.

“…two years – for two whole ing years you run off to who knows where and you don’t bother to give me a ing call!” Her screech almost startles him out of his wits because he’s so focused on getting what he wants – he’s forgotten he’s going to have to explain himself. And it’s the first time he’s heard her voice in two years – it hasn’t changed much at all from what he remembers.

The only thing he notices different about her is how boney she looks and how much older her face has aged. He swallows thickly – wondering what’s up with her but not having it in him to ask the question – he doesn’t think he’s in the position to start fussing over her.

He refuses respond to her short rant and stays on his spot by the door – his hands feel clammy and , he’s so nervous he doesn’t even know why. 

He had changed his number after cutting her and his parents off – too angry to even think of seeing them because they never listened to him. Never stopped to hear his side of things – as angry as he was back then, he finds it difficult understand the reason his past self even left in the first place.

He’s more lost than he’s angry now – it makes him regret a lot of things he won’t dare say.

“Aren’t you going to say anything?” She snaps irritably after a while, “Where have you been?” She bites out – and , she sounds just like him when he’s cross with someone – it’s a little bit frightening.

“Around,” He answers forcefully – and what a stupid answer it is stupid, he tells himself – he shrugs because it’s the only reply he can come up with. He’s shifting his weight onto his right foot and back to his left, his eyes trained on her – as if daring her to yell at him.

Chanyeol feels so exhausted and he regrets doing this right after work – he knows he wouldn’t have the balls to come here had he gone home to rest.

“Do you know how worried I was? How worried mum and dad are?” He hears it in her voice – the confusion, the relief and the anger – he hears how she’s trying not to yell at him. She standing behind her desk, scowl painted on her face and when she picks up her phone – his shoulders tense, eyes widening because he knows what she’s about to do and he’s not up for it.

“What are you doing?” He panics even though he knows exactly what – he sees her place the phone against her ear after she rapidly types on the screen– he knows who she’s calling and that’s all it takes for him to dash forward in alarm.

He yanks the phone from her hand and his hands shake when he sees the caller ID glaring up at him – Dad. He cancels the call and starts at the phone in a bit of a daze – when was the last time he heard his father’s voice? His mother’s? He fails to pinpoint the date – and he starts to feel ty because of it.

“What are you doing?” Yura barks, but doesn’t attempt to take her phone back – he sees how she’s gripping the edges off her desk and how her frame trembles. She’s always been the overly expressive one in the family, too. “Are you in trouble, Chanyeol?”

He blinks because by the tone of her voice he knows what kind of trouble she means and he’s quick to shake his head, “I’m not doing drugs.” He answers. They have a staring march for a few moments – her eyes are sharp and alert, like she’s trying to read if he’s being honest or not. He flexes his jaw and looks away from her. “I’m not doing drugs, Yura.” He repeats firmly.

“Then what is it?”

“I need a job.”

“Tell me why,”

“I need the money,”

“Tell me why!”

He stubbornly pretends not to hear her demand, “He can get me a job – you can talk –”

“A lot has happened in the two years you went on vacation,” She interrupts him, “We got divorced half a year ago. Mutual agreement,” She huffs and the news makes his stomach turn, it hits him like a ton of bricks.

“Oh,” He voices out. . . – her husband – ex-husband – was his one chance to – .

“Yes – oh,” Her tone is mocking, but her face is passive. She crosses her arms over her chest, leans back into her seat and her eyes are trained on him. “I can talk to him – but I can’t promise you anything and you have to tell what’s going on.” She points to the chair across from her before she takes her seat and stares at him pointedly.

He hesitates because he doesn’t want to explain himself – he’s never liked explaining himself and why he’s doing a certain thing. His heart is pounding and Jesus, he’s ing scared more than anything – it awfully feels like he’s being interrogated – he shakes his head and drags his feet over to the offered seat. He slumps down on the chair and runs his fingers through his hair – he does this so often he’s surprised his hair isn’t falling off already.

“…Jongin,” He mumbles and nothing more because she knows who he is – if the realization on her face is anything to go by.

“What about him?” She asks, waving her wrist and blinking at him.

Chanyeol shifts uncomfortably – the awkwardness creeps into him and he wants to leave. “He’s pregnant – it’s mine,” He feels like he needs to add it’s mine because he doesn’t want to be questioned – he already feels as though he’s said enough for one day.

“How are you?”

“…I’m not here to –”

“But I want to know how you are,” She presses on.

“I’m fine,” He snaps and feels embarrassed because he shouldn’t be so angry – but he feels angry for some reason. Maybe because she isn’t yelling at him for ing up his life more like he expects – wants – her to and maybe because she’s talking to him like she just saw him yesterday.

It’s freaky – how she seems to be content and isn’t demanding more answers out of him – but he secretly appreciates it this way.

She stays quiet for a moment and it’s uncomfortable, “I’d like to see him.” She says like it’s nothing – and he guesses to her it’s nothing because she’s not him and she’s not in his situation, she isn’t in his shoes and , she doesn’t know much about what’s been going on in his life.

His fault more than anyone else’s – he thinks it’s too late to even apologize for not keeping in touch with her and their parents – part of him doesn’t regret doing so.

She just stares at him as though she’s trying to read him – he feels for a moment, “Where are you staying now?” She asks after what feels like a lifetime.

He shifts uncomfortably – an awkward feeling settles in the pits of his stomach as he thinks of what to say. He feels embarrassed to say the least – he stays silent where he sits and grips he snatched from her in his hand – and he’d much rather not have her know where he stays.

She’ll only invite herself whenever she feels the need – with their parents – and he doesn’t want that.

Chanyeol abruptly stands up, straightens his jeans and avoids her gaze, “I should leave now,” He announces and watches his sister stand up.

“Your number, please,” She slides a blank paper across the table and holds out a pen to him. He stares at it for what feels like forever before he hesitantly grabs it and scribbles it down sloppily. He slides it back to her and turns around, “Thank you,” She says and he ignores her, he steps out of her office and closes the door with a click.

He stands outside her door for a few moments – realizes he has reached at a point where he doesn’t even know what he wants anymore.

)(

The last person he expects to see waiting for him outside his apartment door is Jongdae – his co-worker sees him and waves at him eagerly. Chanyeol puffs out his cheeks as he reaches him and stares down at the packet on canned beers on Jongdae’s left hand. “Didn’t expect you here,” He says but he’s already unlocking his door and gestures for Jongdae to walk in.

“Nah,” He shrugs, “Figured you need someone around – you did say Jonginnie’s away visiting family, no?” Chanyeol knows should feel bad about lying to the poor guy but he doesn’t. He shuts the door after Jongdae walks in and they both kick their shoes off, stalking off to the sofa and slumping down on in.

He doesn’t practically like beer much – the taste feels weird on his tongue and burns his throat when it slides down – but he figures he needs it – for working up the nerve to go see his own sister and wishing he can be hangover the next morning so he can allow himself to sleep in.

Jongdae makes himself at home quick – turning on the TV, can of beer in hand and his legs thrown on the table. The program on TV is something Chanyeol pays no attention to as he sips his beer and listens to Jongdae talk about anything and everything.

He checks his phone from time to time – Jongdae’s voice fading into the background as he reads Jongin’s text message – he’s asking him if he’s gotten home safely and Chanyeol’s lips create the faintest of smiles before replying with a simple yes and nothing more. 

)(

this sat in my drafts for way too long and the more I stare at it, the more annoyed I get asdfghjkl so try to enjoy it D; next update should be up some day in July obvs so see ya then!  ・(￣∀￣)・:*: